Brumby Plains (8 page)

‘They can't do that, can they?' asked Tess in disbelief.

‘That's why Mum and Dad had to go in and see the lawyer, to try and stop them.'

They sat around the table in silence. Finally George broke it. ‘Did you tell Dad about the netting up on the ridge?'

‘No,' replied Sam. ‘It was pouring in Darwin.
I could barely hear him. Besides, he's got more important things to worry about, I reckon.' He was silent for a bit longer, then said, ‘There's nothing we can do about the bank. But we'll have to go back up to the ridge and take that net down, before it catches any more birds.'

They headed off straight away, leaving Jock a note on the table. The sky was overcast and rain was drifting across the flood plains in long dark streamers, but it still looked dry up towards the ridge. Sam parked the Landcruiser at the foot of the Arm and they set off up the rocky hill. It was much hotter than it had been that morning, but no one noticed it now. They reached the top, passed by the banyan, and headed south along the ridge top back to the pool.

Maybe it was because they were all so preoccupied with the awful news from town. They trudged along with their heads down, not concentrating, and that was why they almost blundered straight into the two men beside the spring. Sam, his ears still keen even when his mind was somewhere else, heard strange voices and stopped the others just in time. They dropped silently behind some
bushes. They could hear two voices quite clearly now.

‘… there won't be any more pick-ups by boat till next season. Said it's too dangerous now, too many storms.'

‘So it's a plane tonight?'

‘Yeah. Same place – at least we don't have to clear the strip again. Bit risky, if y'ask me. Too many people could hear the plane, I reckon. Like them blackfellers next door, hear everythin'.'

Sam and Tess peered through the dry grass.

‘It's that sleazy guy from the markets,' Tess breathed, and Sam nodded.

‘And Stinkin' Jerry's son, Nigel,' he whispered back.

‘What are they doing?' George and Darcy lay on the ground behind Sam and couldn't see.

‘Looks like they're moving the net to a different spot. Shh!'

‘We'll check this one just on dark, and then pack the birds in the tubes before we go to the airstrip. Plane comes in about ten o'clock so we gotta get the lights for the strip ready, and then that's it,' they heard Nigel say.

‘Won't be too soon fer me. I've 'ad a gutful of the bush. I just wanna get me money, get back to town, and hit the pub.' The sleazy guy slapped at a mosquito and swore. ‘They better send some decent carvin's this time too. Them last ones were rubbish. Had a lotta trouble sellin' 'em at the markets.'

‘Yeah, well, I reckon I'll be glad to finish up. We're losin' too many birds now anyway, in this heat. B'sides, I reckon McAllister's getting a bit suss. Me old man's already covered up for us a coupl'a times, blamin' 'em for droppin' the fence and stuff. It's gettin' too risky, if y'ask me. Russell shoulda stopped at the last load.'

Darcy wasn't usually afraid of spiders, but this one was crawling along his broken arm, and when he shook it off, he banged his arm into a rock and gave a yelp. Immediately the two men stiffened and looked up.

‘Oi! Look out!' shouted Nigel.

Sam, Tess, George and Darcy jumped to their feet and ran. They ran as fast as they could, straight back down the ridge, dodging and weaving through the low scrub along the dried-up watercourse. They
could hear the shouts as the men pursued them, and they ran even faster.

As they came near the narrow section of the ridge, Sam yelled, ‘Quick, over the side!' and they plunged down the rockfall, sliding and tumbling, scrabbling furiously. They pressed into the opening they had been looking into that morning and stopped, chests heaving and eyes wide with shock. They stayed silent in the dark, not wanting to even think about what nasty creepy crawlies might be in the little cave. They could hear the men shouting to each other up above, casting back and forth trying to see where they had gone. Finally the voices receded, until all was silent for a while.

Sam shrugged off his pack and fished out his torch, and it was then they realised with horror that Darcy was not in the cave with them.

‘Oh my God!' gasped Tess. ‘We left him behind! I thought he was right behind me. He mustn't have been able to get down the rockfall with his broken arm.' She sagged to the floor and put her head on her knees. ‘What are we going to do?'

Sam dropped to the floor beside her. What a mess! If only he hadn't brought them up here this
morning, they wouldn't have returned and run into those men. If only they had stayed away from the cave like Vincent had warned him. He couldn't imagine what was happening to Darcy.

‘We have to get back to the house and call the police. But we can't climb up the rockfall, they'll be looking for us,' said George grimly.

Tess sniffed and said, ‘What do you think they'll do to Darcy?'

‘It's okay, Tess. We'll think of something. C'mon, let's have a look around here. Maybe there's another way out,' said Sam, sounding more hopeful than he felt.

He stood up and moved a little further inside the cave, shining his torch around. Past the fallen rock, it was quite large. All over the walls were paintings similar to those in the first cave. He was puzzled. He had never seen this cave in his life, but he had the strangest feeling he had been here before. There was something familiar about the shape of it …

Tess and George had their own torches out of their packs now, and lit up the interior of the cave more brightly.

‘Wow – look at these paintings. They're like those other ones, only …' Sam stopped and peered more closely at the wall. ‘What do you think that's supposed to be?'

Tess and George stopped at Sam's shoulder and stared.

‘Looks like men on horses. Must be white blokes, I guess … maybe it's a picture of a muster?' ventured George.

Tess shone her torch around the wall, lighting up a lot more paintings. ‘All those people falling down with their mouths open … and the people on horses are pointing sticks at them … hey, this is a picture of a war or something. Those white people are shooting the black ones!' She stared at the wall and shook her head.

They were all quiet for a moment, contemplating the awful scenes before them.

‘I didn't know anything like that happened around here,' said Sam. ‘Maybe that's why Old Vincent doesn't talk about the old days?'

He moved away from the wall towards the centre of the cave to scan the rest of the area for a possible way out. His foot crunched on something
and he shone the torch down. In the bright white beam, a human skull grinned up at him, and he gave an involuntary shriek and jumped backwards.

‘It – it's a skeleton!'

Tess and George were pressed close beside him, and he slowly shone the torch back down again, his heart hammering inside his chest so loudly he was sure it could be heard up on the ridge. A skeleton lay on the floor of the cave. It looked like it had been there a very long time, centuries maybe. The bones were picked clean, but otherwise not disturbed. It lay beside the remains of a fire, it seemed, and there was a tattered old piece of cloth near it.

‘What's that shiny thing, next to its arm?' whispered George, who was holding on to Sam's shirt tightly.

Sam shone his torch more directly at the object, and froze. His heart, which had started to slow again after the initial shock of finding the skeleton, now did a double backflip and almost stopped. Just past what must have been the finger bones of the skeleton lay the coloured stone which he had dreamt about. Suddenly he realised why the cave felt familiar. It was the cave in his dream, where the
old man was sitting by the fire singing, and where he had given Sam that same stone.

He stooped down and gently picked it up. It felt like the right thing to do. ‘I know how to get out of here,' he said.

Sam led them towards the back of the cave, climbed over a few boulders, and then disappeared. George and Tess heard a strange flapping noise that started off loud and close and gradually died away, and then Sam's voice called to them. They stooped to see his torch beam shining from the other side of a narrow opening. They had to wriggle and slide their way through, and crawl on their hands and knees until the ceiling rose enough for them to stand. The air was warm and thick with the pungent odour of bats.

Sam moved slowly ahead of them, and for many minutes they gingerly stepped into the blackness with only their torches to split the dark. Gradually they could see some light, and as they moved towards it, they felt the air grow fresher as the light grew stronger. After a few minutes, they stopped in disbelief. They were in the cave below the banyan tree!

‘Sam, how –?' Tess stared at him in amazement. Sam just shook his head. He wasn't sure if anyone would believe him, about his dream and an old Aboriginal man – but the stone in his pocket was real.

‘What's that?' George was shining his torch onto something that lay against the cave wall.

‘Hey, I saw that the first time we were in here, just before you dropped the torch when the bats flew out. I wonder what it is?' Sam squinted in the gloom and went to move towards the bulky shape.

‘No –
not now
– c'mon, we have to get help!' Tess said anxiously, and moved over to the bottom of the banyan root.

They climbed up carefully. There was no sign of anyone else, and they could hear nothing, so they quietly picked their way down the ridge to where the Landcruiser was parked under a tree. Sam stripped off his backpack as they ran towards it, tossed it in the open tray and jumped into the cabin. He pushed in the clutch, gripped the steering wheel with one hand and reached for the key with the other. The key was gone.

‘Where's the key? I left it right here! It –'

Suddenly the doors were flung open on both sides, and rough hands dragged the three of them from the vehicle.

Sam, George and Tess lay face down on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs.

‘
Now
what are we gunna do?' moaned a voice Sam recognised. It was Sleazy, the sullen young man from the markets.

‘Yeah, they seen me too.' Sam knew that voice as well. It belonged to Stinkin' Jerry's son, Nigel.

‘If youse had been a bit smarter and quicker this
wouldn't have happened.' The third voice was strange. It was hard edged and dangerous.

‘Get 'em up. We got work to do.'

They were hauled roughly to their feet, and Sam stared at the third man. He was big and solidly built, with a leathery, tanned face and small flinty eyes. He looked every bit as dangerous and mean as he sounded.

‘Just do as yer told and you won't get hurt,' he snarled at them.

‘What are you going to do with us?' demanded George suddenly. ‘Our father will be out looking for us by now, you know!'

Sam wanted to elbow him in the ribs but it was bit hard with his hands tied behind his back. ‘Shut up,' he hissed. There was no point getting these blokes angry.

‘And where's my brother?' added Tess. ‘What have you done with him?'

The older man regarded the three of them for a moment. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. ‘Your father's not lookin' for you, he's in town, isn't he? In fact, no one knows where you are right now, so you'd all better just keep yer mouths shut and try
not to annoy me, if you know what's good for you. Now get moving.'

Sam stared in shock at Tess and George. How could this man know where his parents were? He sounded like he meant every word he said, and Sam hoped George would keep quiet and not antagonise him further.

If it had been hard work climbing up the ridge before, it was nothing compared to climbing it with their hands tied behind their backs. Nigel led them up a different path, well to the right of the cave. Every time one of them stumbled, Sleazy or the other man would give them a shove and swear at them.

Eventually they reached the top of the ridge and made their way back to the little spring where they had first happened onto the men. Darcy was half lying in some shade, and Tess gave a strangled cry and darted over to him. He sat up, looking relieved and frightened at the same time to see the others appear. His hands were tied in front of him, because of his broken arm.

‘Get over there next to him and shut up!' snarled the older man.

Tess sat down awkwardly next to Darcy, and Sam and George followed.

‘What happened, Darce, are you all right?'

‘I couldn't get down the rockfall quick enough, and they grabbed me and tied me up while they went after you guys. I'm sorry – I got all of us caught.' A tear rolled down his dirt-stained face.

‘It's not your fault, Darce. I shouldn't have brought us here in the first place.'

Sam really felt bad now. ‘Don't worry, it'll be okay,' he whispered. But Sam didn't have any idea how or why it would be okay.

He could hear the men arguing. Nigel and Sleazy were complaining.

‘Well, I say we cut and run! The game's up now, Russell. These kids have seen us, and the cops'll be all over the place before long. How do we know someone's not out lookin' for 'em already?'

‘Yeah, and besides, what are we gunna do with 'em anyhow? Four kids!'

The older man turned on them fiercely. ‘I've never missed a pick-up yet, and I'm not about to start now. Use yer brains – no one knows where the kids are, or even that they're missing. Besides,
the river's up, so no one's coming through for a few days. All we have to do is load the plane tonight, and we're home free. We miss this plane, we miss the money. You got me?'

The other two nodded, but they didn't look happy.

‘What happens when the kids tell the cops?'

‘So what if they do? Where's the proof? You think the cops are gunna waste time chasing up a story some kids tell 'em, when there's nothing to prove any of it? Besides, as soon as we get out of here, we head south for a few months, till the heat's off.'

Nigel and Sleazy looked unconvinced, but there wasn't much they could do about it.

‘What about after the plane goes, tonight? What do we do with the kids then?'

Russell's mouth tightened into a hard line. ‘Let me worry about that. You just get on with yer job.'

Sam, George, Tess and Darcy huddled together in the shade while the men went about their business. They suspended more fine nets over the waterhole, and draped them across trees which birds might be likely to perch in as they came to drink. It was mid-afternoon, and the day was hot and sultry. The rain
which had threatened earlier had not come across, but the clouds were still ominous enough.

After about an hour, the men herded them down the eastern side of the ridge. At the foot of the ridge, half hidden under the low branches of a big spreading banyan tree, was a truck. It had a cabin, a tray with high sides, and a canvas top. Again they were told to sit in the shade, only this time they were given a drink of water. Just after sunset, the men set off back up the ridge with some lengths of PVC pipe about seventy-five millimetres in diameter, a small metal box and some lanterns.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally left alone. ‘Darcy, can you move your fingers much?'

‘Yeah, a bit.'

‘If I turn around like this, see if you can undo the rope.' Sam put his back to Darcy and leant forward so his wrists were close to Darcy's hands.

It took Darcy the best part of ten minutes. His hands kept cramping up, but he worked away at the knots until he had them loose.

‘Untie me too!' demanded George urgently, but Sam shook his head.

‘Just wait. If they come back and we're all untied we'll be worse off. I'll have a look in the truck – maybe we can drive away.'

But the keys were not in the ignition, or anywhere else that Sam could see. However, there was a two-way radio. Its aerial wire was slung over a branch on the other side of the truck, and it was still attached to the truck's battery. Quickly Sam flicked through the channels until he found the local station frequency. Nigel may have been using it to speak to his father back at the homestead, but more likely they had a private one on which they could more safely communicate. In any case, Stinkin' Jerry could be listening on this one.

‘Brumby Plains to Malarrimun, Brumby Plains to Malarrimun, are you there, Vincent?'

It took a couple of tries before there was a burst of static and Vincent's voice came through the speaker. ‘Malarrimun here. That you, my boy?'

‘Vincent? Vincent …' Sam tried to keep his voice calm because he knew Stinkin' Jerry might be able to hear every word he said. ‘Um, remember that old man you told me about? He's pretty angry right now, I reckon. Remember we were looking at the
stars that night? Same story tonight. Going to be just the same tonight, hey? And us kids are all going to be there too.' Sam was desperately trying to think of a way to tell Vincent they were in trouble.

He let go of the transmit button, and Vincent's voice crackled through the static. ‘You-ai, young feller.'

But Sam couldn't say any more. He could see lights coming down the ridge, and he quickly switched off the set and scrambled back to where the others were hunched on the ground.

‘Quick, Darce, just wrap the rope around my hands again like I'm still tied up!'

‘Do you think Vincent understood what you meant? Why didn't you just tell him what was happening?' asked Tess anxiously.

‘Stinkin' Jerry could have heard everything we said. If I'd said anything else he'd have come out here to tell these blokes. We just have to hope Vincent figures it out.'

Nigel, Sleazy and Russell appeared a little while later, torches lighting their way. They were carrying the pipes carefully now. The birds had been drugged and packed into the pipes. There were little air
holes drilled along the lengths of them, and caps screwed onto the ends. They lowered them gently to the ground, and then slid them into special shelves built into the tray of the truck.

‘Right. Now, you lot – into the back of the truck.' Russell jerked his head at Nigel and Sleazy, and they shoved their four captives into the truck beside the pipes. The canvas cover was tied over them, and the truck lurched off down the track away from the ridge towards the highway. In the back, Sam, George, Tess and Darcy bounced around against each other, trying hard not to bump Darcy's arm. Sam shook his hands free again, and managed to peer out from under the canvas flap. He couldn't see much in the dark. After a while the truck left the track and drove down the bitumen highway then, after a short spell, it left the highway again for another bush track, this time on the opposite side of the highway from where they'd come.

Sam was ready. As soon as he felt the truck slowing down and begin to change direction, he dropped his shoes and socks over the side of the tray as it left the highway and headed up a rough
track. He scrambled back to the others and Darcy wrapped the rope around his hands again.

They didn't go far before they stopped. They were left in the truck for some time while the men muttered and worked outside, presumably setting the airstrip up ready for the plane to land. After what seemed like hours, when their arms and legs were beginning to cramp up, the canvas top was pulled off the truck and they were ordered out.

‘Get over there and stay down,' Russell snarled at them.

There was a small campfire lit nearby, and they sat down to wait. They could see two parallel lines of lights stretching away between the trees, marking out the cleared airstrip. After about an hour, enduring mosquitoes, hunger pangs, and pins and needles in their hands, they could hear the drone of a light plane. Down, down it came, and its headlights flicked on, blazing up the rough little strip. The plane bumped to a stop, but the pilot kept the engine idling, and the men hurried over to it. After a brief conference with the pilot they began unloading boxes from the rear door of the plane.

While the men were busy at the plane, Sam
quietly untied the others, and watched the activity with mounting fear. They were going to get away with everything. Maybe Vincent hadn't been able to understand his coded message. He yelled out to the working men, ‘Hey! What about us? You can't just leave us here!'

George, Darcy and Tess stared at him like he'd gone crazy.

The men stopped what they were doing and the pilot looked over at the four figures he could now plainly see in the firelight. He started talking angrily to the others. ‘What's going on? Who are these kids? The boss isn't going to like this one bit. You got witnesses now!'

‘It don't matter, just get the birds on board and give us the money! We'll look after the kids!'

‘Oh no you don't! You messed it up bad now. I'm out of here,
with
the money. You keep your birds!' And he went to get back on the plane.

Russell grabbed him by the shoulder and the pilot swung a fist at him. They struggled with each other, cursing and punching, while Nigel and Sleazy hovered uncertainly around them. In the commotion, Sam shook his ropes off and leapt to his feet.

‘Quick! Into the truck!'

He started up the engine but, having no idea how to drive it, slammed it into reverse, and they found themselves careering backwards, across the campfire and right into the tail of the plane, snapping cables and tearing metal. Sam tried to change gears and go forward but he couldn't find them, and in his panic he stalled the truck. The door of the cabin was flung open and for the second time that day Sam was dragged out and thrown to the ground.

‘I'll kill you!' shouted Russell, frothing at the mouth.

He had Sam on the ground, his hands around his throat, when a stick suddenly smacked him hard right across the head, and he fell sideways with a grunt. Sam gasped to get his breath back and struggled to sit up, half under the weight of the big man.

Headlights blazed into the camp, and three men jumped out of the vehicle, each holding a rifle. Nigel, Sleazy and the pilot put their hands up in the air. A slight figure emerged out of the darkness into the headlights beside the armed men. With a sudden rush of relief, Sam recognised Vincent, who was carrying a heavy throwing stick in his hand.

‘I say, that was impressive, Vincent. Excellent aim!'

Sam squinted at the speaker. He couldn't believe it –
Charles Rowntree
? What on earth was
he
doing here?

‘And as for you, Sam, you might be more comfortable if we get this great lump off you, eh? Heavens, you might catch nits or something, from an unsavoury character like him.' Charles put a boot under Russell's bulky body and heaved it off Sam's legs.

 

It was after midnight when they finally got home again. The two men accompanying Charles had taken a handcuffed Russell, Nigel, Sleazy and the pilot into the Jabiru police station as the highway back to Darwin was still cut by the river.

Sam, George, Tess and Darcy sat round the dining room table as Old Jock placed mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. He handed Charles a mug of steaming tea and sat down with them, his own battered pannikin in his hand. He looked expectantly at Charles.

‘Well, where do I start? I work for the Federal Police,' said Charles. ‘When I first met you people I was undercover as a bonsai grower. Gave me lots of excuses to be out bush, fossicking around at odd times. We've been trying to crack a ring of wildlife smugglers for some time now. Your station was on our list of suspects, but we didn't know if your parents were involved or not. We knew they had financial troubles, so they were possible suspects for that reason –'

‘
Suspects!
You thought
we
might have been the smugglers?!' yelled Sam, turning red.

‘
Smugglers!
' yelled Jock at the same time, his tea slopping over the table as he set his pannikin down hard.