The Opal Desert (19 page)

The two worked quietly but steadily for the next few days, carefully digging through the layer where they'd found the nobbies. Shirley still cheerfully examined the tailings that were tipped from the bucket to the side of the windlass. Albert helped her look, making sure that they didn't miss a thing. They had a growing collection of potch with good colour, which they put to one side. Albert knew that this could indicate they were getting close to gem opal, but there was no guarantee. When they were not working on the mullock heap, it was always covered with a piece of tarpaulin, in case it attracted unwanted attention.

Sitting by their campfire one evening, Albert said quietly, ‘School holidays are nearly over and we'll have to make tracks back home. No more opal, but we've done well enough. I'll take the opal nobbies to a man I know in Sydney. We can be pleased with what we have. You've been a splendid assistant miner.'

‘I think tomorrow is our lucky day,' said Shirley firmly and her father smiled as he puffed on his pipe.

‘Well, keep that to yourself. Here comes a fellow from down the hill.'

Albert had heard that this man had been around the opal fields for several years, having first had a strike in South Australia at Coober Pedy before moving on to White Cliffs, then Opal Lake and now Lightning Ridge. He was holding an enamel mug and greeted them cheerily.

‘Hello, cobbers. I'm down on me rations and in need of a bit of sweeten' up. Would you have a bit of sugar to spare for me tea?'

‘I expect I can find some,' said Albert. ‘Shirley take Mr Gordon's cup and fill it up from the bag inside.'

‘I very much appreciate it. Many thanks. A man is starved for those special things that sweeten the palate after a simple supper.'

‘Well, sultana pudding in the camp oven, or damper and golden syrup is as fine a dessert as a man could wish for out here,' said Albert.

The man crouched, drew out his 'baccy tin and took out the makings of a roll-your-own. ‘Smoke?'

‘Thank you, no. I have my pipe,' said Albert affably.

Gordon lit up as Albert puffed on his pipe. ‘The best time of day, no matter what trouble and toil we've had.'

‘Indeed,' agreed Albert.

They smoked for a few more moments, until Shirley ducked out of the tent and handed the man his cup filled with sugar.

‘Many thanks. I shall return the favour.'

Albert drew on his pipe, slowly exhaling a thin blue plume of smoke into the crisp night air. ‘That's not necessary. It has been our pleasure.'

‘Weather's cooling down. The winter will be upon us before we know it,' said the miner.

Despite the casual exchange of trivialities, Albert knew that Gordon's eyes were darting about their camp, taking in details, looking for any clue that might suggest success. But there was no untoward sign of serious activity.

‘So, lass, you enjoy it out here? Bit of a lonely time for a little girl like yourself,' Gordon continued.

‘I like it,' said Shirley. ‘I like looking at the stars, and being here with my father.'

‘Well, that'd be right. He's a smart man. The Professor, that's what they call him.'

‘I'm sure your wealth of local knowledge is equal to mine,' said Albert. ‘You've been around the diggings for quite a while, I understand.'

‘Have you found lots of opals?' asked Shirley suddenly. If he was an old opal miner, he was sure to be rich.

Gordon straightened up. He couldn't resist a small boast. ‘In my time, lass. Yes, I've had a find or two.' But he quickly added, ‘It's hard out here when you're stuck in shincracker and the bloke beside you is knee deep in black opal.'

‘Luck of the draw, eh?' commented Albert. ‘I'm afraid we'll be heading east soon. School for both of us.'

‘It's been a lovely holiday,' sighed Shirley.

The man opposite nodded. ‘Not for the likes of some of us. No job waiting and an uncertain future. Well, I thank you for the sugar. I'll repay it in due course.'

‘As I said before, don't bother,' said Albert. ‘We have enough to see us through.'

Gordon finished his smoke and threw the end into the campfire. ‘Well, I'll be off. Good luck to you.'

‘And to you, Mr Gordon,' replied Albert. He watched the man wander back towards the other tents with his mug of sugar.

‘I don't like him,' said Shirley.

‘I should say that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, or a man for being down on his luck,' said Albert. ‘But, my girl, I have to agree with you. As your mother would say, he's got shifty eyes.'

Shirley lowered her voice. ‘Do you think he knows what we found?'

Albert shook his head. ‘No, he was just nosing around. Anyway, we'll be gone in a couple of days. But you were a good girl not to say anything. Best we keep our finds a secret.'

At mid morning the following day, Albert called Shirley to come down the shaft. There was something in the tone of her father's voice that made her hurry and she slid down the ladder, her feet barely touching the rungs. She stumbled towards the candlelight which was shining against the rock face at the end of the drive.

‘What is it, Daddy?'

‘There, look there. What do you see?'

Shirley squinted, her eyes adjusting from the bright sunlight outside. Then, in the wavering, pale candle beam, she caught the flash of colour. It was only a few inches wide, but it was the length of her hair ribbon, a shimmering, sparkling blue-green strip of opal. ‘Ooh, how pretty. How do you get it out, Daddy?'

‘It's a seam. I have no idea how much is there. We'll just have to follow it carefully. Can you hold the light for me?'

Time stopped for the father and daughter as Albert used the small gouging stick to gently chip along the dazzling rainbow of solid opal. Chunks came away, embedded in the flow of clay and they carefully lowered the pieces into the worn leather bucket.

‘We'll have to put the dirt at the far end of the tunnel in case there's opal in it. We don't want anyone scratching through it while our back is turned, do we?' said Albert.

‘I'll use the shovel, Daddy.'

‘I think you might be better with the trowel. Don't hurt yourself. I'll take a rest for a minute and then I'll give you a hand.' Albert was breathless from exertion and excitement.

But a sudden cry and squeal from Shirley had him dashing to the recess at the end of the shaft.

‘Shirley, what is it?'

The little girl was crying and Albert grabbed the candle and lifted it high to see what had happened. Shirley was pressed against the wall of the mine, cradling her ankle. She pointed to a ledge a few inches above the ground.

Albert's heart constricted when he saw the shape of a dark snake, its head lifted in anger.

‘Dear God! Did it bite you? Let me see.'

‘Daddy, kill it!'

Albert picked up the shovel and lunged towards the snake, severing its head from its body.

‘Did it bite you?'

‘I think so.'

‘Let me see.' He pulled the kerchief from his neck and swiftly bound it above the red mark on her leg. ‘Sit still. Take deep breaths. It will be all right.' He spoke as calmly as he could. Shirley tried to stop shaking and take breaths as her father directed, but they came out in short, strangled gasps. Albert pulled his shirt off, ripped off a sleeve and tied a tourniquet tightly at the top of her leg. Shirley cried out in pain.

‘Shirley, you'll be right. I know that the tourniquet hurts, but it's meant to. It's so the venom doesn't spread. I'll get you to the nurse as soon as I can. It won't take long. Just keep as still and quiet as you can. I'm going to pop you in the bucket and wind you up to the top.' Gently he lifted her and carried her back to the bottom of the shaft, tipped the dirt from the bucket and eased his daughter into it, folding her legs to one side. Then he scrambled to the top of the ladder and began winching up the bucket as swiftly as he could, praying that his daughter would be all right. He carried her over to the tent and gently laid her on the camp stretcher.

‘Sweetie, I'm going to have to get the venom out of your leg and it's going to hurt you, but as soon as I've done that, I'll drive you into Lightning Ridge.'

Albert took out the sharp kitchen knife from the storage box. He lit one of the spare candles and held the blade of the knife over its flame. When he thought that it had been there long enough, he took it out and held on to Shirley's ankle.

‘Be a very brave girl for me.' With that, he cut into her leg as quickly as he could. Shirley couldn't help but scream out, but her father held her steady. Then he lowered his head over the wound and sucked her blood, spitting the poisonous venom onto the ground.

‘My poor baby,' he said as Shirley sobbed in his arms. He lay her on the front seat of his old truck and drove as fast as he could past the trees and onto the dirt track that led into town.

‘I'll be all right, won't I, Daddy,' said Shirley, sounding weak. Albert hoped that this was from shock rather than anything else.

The drive into town seemed interminable, although it could not have been more than thirty minutes, but at last he came to a halt outside a small shack with a corrugated-iron roof and wooden walls, where the bush nurse was based. Carrying Shirley in his arms he dashed inside.

‘Nurse! Please help me.'

‘Here I am, now what's happened here? Hello, young lady,' she said as Albert brought his pale daughter into the room that served as a clinic.

‘Snake bite,' said Albert.

‘Here, on her ankle?'

‘Yes, it happened in a mine shaft. It was dark.'

‘Hmm.' The nurse unrolled the cloth bandage which was now soaked in blood. She swabbed the wound to reveal the angry red bite.

‘We'll give her what we've got and hope it's the right thing. We don't know for sure it was a poisonous snake, do we, dear?' she said cheerfully to Shirley.

Albert shook his head, smoothing Shirley's perspiring face. ‘I killed it. I should have brought it in. Then we'd know.'

Albert sat by Shirley's side as she slept fitfully. Hours passed. The nurse brought him a mug of tea and regularly checked Shirley's pulse and temperature.

‘Do you want some sleep?' she asked Albert, who just shook his head. There was no way he would leave his daughter's side.

In the early hours of the morning, Shirley seemed better. Her breathing seemed more normal, and her fever less. At last Albert closed his eyes and slept. With a jolt he awakened as the nurse bustled in. Bright light shone in the street outside the window. He leant across and touched Shirley's forehead, relieved to find it cool and normal.

‘She's come through it just fine,' said the nurse quietly. ‘Obviously she didn't get much venom or it wasn't a very poisonous snake. Go and get yourself some breakfast at the café. I'll watch her. Bring her back something to eat. She'll be hungry when she wakes up.'

When Albert returned with a sandwich and some milk for his daughter, he was overjoyed to see her sitting up in the bed, chatting to the nurse and a man with his arm in a sling.

‘Ah, Mr Mason,' smiled the nurse. ‘Shirley was just telling us all about what happened. I would say that she's had a lucky escape, thanks to your prompt action.'

‘How are you feeling?' Albert asked Shirley.

‘I'm fine, Daddy. But my ankle's sore. This is Mr Price. He's injured his wrist,' she told her father.

The nurse looked at Shirley. ‘Probably best that you stay until this afternoon. Just to keep an eye on you. But I'm confident that everything's fine.'

Albert looked relieved. ‘I don't know how to thank you, nurse. I was so worried. If anything happened to Shirley, I would never forgive myself.'

The nurse smiled. ‘Well, nothing did happen. Now you just give that food to Shirley. I bet she's very hungry.'

It was late afternoon when they drove back into the camp. They saw that several campfires had been lit as the miners started to prepare their evening meal. But others would work much later, until tiredness and cold drove them back to their camp. Everything looked normal and Albert breathed a sigh of relief as he patted Shirley's knee.

‘Now, where were we?'

She smiled. ‘Digging up opal, Daddy.'

‘You stay here in the tent and have a bit of a rest. I'll go back down the mine and tidy up.'

‘No. I want to come.'

‘All right,' said Albert, realising that the little girl didn't want to be left by herself. ‘Let's drive over to it and save ourselves the walk.'

So instead of walking the few hundred yards from their tent to their claim, Albert drove across the rough patch of ground, the truck bouncing over ruts and holes.

At the entrance to their shaft he stopped and put his hand on Shirley's shoulder. ‘You wait up here. I won't be long.' He pulled a new candle from his pocket, made sure he had his matches and climbed down the ladder.

Shirley waited and when Albert seemed to have been gone a long time, she called out, ‘I'm coming down, Daddy.'

‘No! Stay there, Shirley,' shouted her father. ‘I'm coming up.'

Shirley was shocked by the harsh-sounding command and stood back as she saw her father's hat and broad shoulders appear at the top of the shaft. He climbed out and immediately slumped to the ground.

‘Daddy! What's the matter? Another snake . . . ?'

Her father dropped his face in his hands and his shoulders shook. She flung herself at him. ‘Daddy? What's wrong?'

Finally Albert lifted his head and stared at her. ‘It's gone. They've taken the lot.'

‘What?' Then the little girl realised. ‘Our opals? All the opals? Are they gone?'

He nodded. ‘Ratters. I've told you about them, how men sneak into mines and steal other people's opal.

I suppose that it was an open invitation to them, leaving everything unsecured. We left in a bit of a rush.' He tried to smile and his expression squeezed Shirley's heart so tight she felt like she couldn't breathe.