Kipp The Kid (4 page)

The next morning was Saturday and he convinced his
gran and grumps that they should let him go for two nights camping.
They rarely said no. But he had some trouble. Of course they had a
list of things he had to do before he left and another one for when
he came back. Great, he thought, this is going to take at least two
hours. But he rushed through them like his dog Nip at training,
eagerly anticipating a reward at the end, for doing everything he
was asked.

The previous night, before he went to bed, he typed
up a contract he would read to Jane when they arrived at camp. He
packed it with extra supplies, enough for two or three days. Then,
later in the morning, still early, but much later than Kipp had
wanted, he went next door and called out in a loud whisper to Jane.
At first she did not appear. But after some groaning she was at her
window.

She took so long coming down, Kipp was worried she
had either changed her mind, or her father had caught up with her.
He wondered whether Jane’s father would even miss her, or would
worry. He needn’t have. When Jane met him at the back door, she
told him she had spent half the night making meals for her dad and
had left a note, saying she was going to her friend’s house for a
stay over.

Then they were off. The bruise on Jane’s face had
grown darker and larger, but the swelling had gone down and the red
in her bloodshot eye had gone. They wasted no time. Kipp didn’t
even take the time to ask her what she was bringing, but noticed
the small bag she had with her, which wasn’t much larger than a
hand bag. They went to the garage and opened the door and Kipp
grabbed the swag and a deck chair.

Kipp always almost ran the entire way to the camp
site and he was usually there within an hour at the slowest. But
with Jane, they could only walk and it took much longer. Nip wasn’t
happy about it. Being a cattle dog, he loved to run. Kipp had to
call him back a couple of times, telling him off and then
commanding him to walk, something Nip did not like to do. Nip shot
a glance up at Jane and she thought she read an expression on his
face that made her feel unwelcome. Kipp didn’t notice.

“Why did you name him Nip?” she asked, trying to make
the dog feel more at ease.

“When he was little he had a habit of biting
everything. The cat, the sheep, the pigs, even the horses. It
didn’t matter the size or how dangerous another animal, he always
had a go at it. Once,” he explained, “there was a brown snake in
the yard and Nip went right up to it and grabbed it around the
neck. I had to hit the snake hard with a pole to kill it before it
bit him. After that, Nip sat proudly panting next to the dead
snake, as if he had killed it all by himself. So we called him Nip
from then on.”

At the camp site, everything was as it was the last
time they were there. Kipp checked the site, almost expecting
things to have been moved. He was glad they weren’t. “Have you
eaten yet?”

“No. No time.”

He cracked open a can of baked beans and tinned fruit
and served it up on tin plates. He opened a can of spam for Nip. He
didn’t know whether Jane ate beans and he didn’t think to ask. When
she ate it all without complaining, he was pleased.

When they had finished breakfast, Kipp got out his
contract.

“What’s that?” Jane asked.

“It’s a contract.”

“What for?”

“For you of course.”

Jane was about to ask another question when Kipp
interrupted, reading from the contract.

Camping Contract between Kipp and Jane

When at camp, obey all of Kipp’s rules. Don’t ask
stupid questions or complain.

When at camp, eat what Kipp eats. Don’t complain or
you will miss out on eating at all.

When hiking, wear sensible shoes.

He stopped to check to see what shoes Jane had
brought. She held up a pair of boots and grinned.

“They’ll have to do,” he said, rolling his eyes.

When exploring, always wait for Kipp first. It’s
dangerous in the mines and usually not a place for girls or anyone
inexperienced at exploring.

“You really like your lists, don’t you,” she
interrupted. Kipp ignored her.

Never interrupt Kipp when he is reading from one of
his lists.

“It doesn’t say that. You made that up.”

Kipp got out a pen and wrote it down on the bottom of
the page. Now it does.

“So now you’re making up rules as you go along?”

“My camp, my space, my spot, my rules, got it?” he
said, frowning. This is going to be more difficult than I imagined,
he thought.

When at camp you have to do your fair share of
collecting sticks and wood, cleaning up and cooking.

“What about washing and ironing and shopping, are
they there too?” she added, teasing him. Kipp was going to tell her
off but realized it was actually quite funny.

“Funny!” he said and then checked his list.

Kipp decided not to read the rest. He gave his pen to
Jane and stared at her blankly. She took the pen.

“You’re kidding right?”

At the bottom of the page, there was a dotted line,
right below her name, Jane.

“It’s Janine Prescott. Janine, Andrea Prescott. The
only people who call me Jane are my dad and relatives,” she
explained in a much more serious tone than she had intended. Kipp
chuckled. “Why are you laughing?”

“Well, it’s funny. I mean, I’ve only ever heard you
be called Jane. I didn’t even know your middle name. I knew you
were a Prescott, everyone does.”

She didn’t let him finish. She took the pen and wrote
her full name next to Jane and then signed it in beautiful
handwriting.

“Wow!” said Kipp. “I’ve only ever seen writing like
that in a book.” He was smiling when he said this but stopped
smiling when he saw a tear in her eye.

“Andrea was my mother’s name.”

Kipp carefully folded the contract and put it away.
Then he started packing up the empty tin cans and plates. “We can’t
leave these lying around. The foxes will sniff them out and we
don’t want one of those things hanging around at night.”

She helped him eagerly and then he got out his map he
had spent many days drawing. It was a remarkably accurate map of
all the mines, including shafts, tunnels, crevices, open cuts, with
all the old buildings and ruins marked and labeled. Jane was
impressed. Then he rolled up his swag and put everything into an
alcove tucked neatly into the base of the chasm wall. Jane rolled
hers up too, but it wasn’t as neat as his. “Hmmmm.” He said. “Well,
come on,” he added impatiently, strapping on his hiking boots.
We’ve got a lot of exploring to do. I’ll show you around.”

Nip anticipated this and was already a way off in
front, seemingly knowing exactly where they were heading first. He
barked and then ran a few paces, stopping and barking again as if
to say, “Well come on then, we haven’t got all day.” When Jane
barked back at him he cocked his head to the side, pricking up his
ears. Then he bounded off into the shadows at the narrow part of
the chasm and disappeared.

Kipp followed him, with Jane not far behind. In the
distance there was the sound of something like motorbikes. But it
was so far off, Kipp did not think anything of it. It didn’t enter
either of their heads that the bikes were heading their way.

interlogue

The old man paused briefly to check to see if the two
children were listening. The girl beamed up at him, her lollipop
almost finished. She had stopped licking it when he stopped telling
his story. The boy too had stopped. His eyes were glazed over as he
looked out across the paddocks. Out in the distance you could just
see the chimney stack pocking up above the Aleppo Pines.

It was now midday. There was the sound of cattle,
goats, chickens and horses around them. But way off in the distance
there was another sound. A much less natural sound. An incessant
buzzing, like a swarm of angry bees. Hearing the motorbikes brought
troubling thoughts to the old man’s heart and he wasn’t sure how to
continue his story.

“Was someone coming?” asked the girl suddenly.

“Someone,” he answered absentmindedly.

“Yes, you mentioned motorbikes. Who were they and why
were they coming?” added the lad, eagerly.

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. This part of the story is
where the excitement and the real adventure begins. You see, Kipp
was not tall, was not physically strong, but he was fit and he
could climb like a monkey and swing like one too. What he lacked in
strength, he more than made up for in wits and intelligence…”

chapter 5: the out-of-towners

Jane had never been inside a mine. In fact, she had
never even been inside a cave. She had read The Adventures of
Huckleberry Fin once and recalled the Indian that almost killed
Becky in that story. If not for the wits and cunning of Fin, Becky
would surely have been hurt or even killed. Jane wondered if ghosts
or criminals hid in the dark, deep in the mines and shivered when
she thought about the possibility.

But for all her reservations, she trusted Kipp. He
had led her through a wire grate and down a rope ladder to an
opening to an old tunnel lined at the top and both sides with very
old timbers, that creaked and groaned under the weight of the earth
above them. He had with him a torch light with a shiny metal
casing.

“How is it powered?” she asked.

“What the torch? Have you not seen one before?”

“No, well yes, but only at the movies.”

“Well, this is a brand new one and the batteries last
about two hours.”

“Only two?” she said rather nervously.

“Don’t worry. I have a backup.”

“What, you mean back up bat—”

“Sshhhh!” Kipp interrupted her, holding up a finger
to his lips. “It echoes in here. You only need to whisper.”

Jane followed Kipp down the tunnel, which zigzagged a
few times before they came to two tunnels one heading left and the
other diverting off to the right. Kipp then pulled a red
handkerchief from his pocket and stuck it under a small stone so
that most of it was still visible. Then with a piece of chalk, he
marked an arrow back in the direction they came from. “I normally
don’t need to do this, because I know the way, but if you ever find
yourself in tunnels, always mark the way back out.” Jane suddenly
felt more at ease, trusting that Kipp knew exactly what he was
doing. Her fear from earlier was now replaced with a thirst for
adventure.

“How far?” She whispered. Her voice was returned to
her, but met her ears as a soft imitation. Again she felt a shiver.
She imagined there might well be another person in the tunnel, such
was the clarity of the voice, her voice, whispered back to her as
perfectly as the vision of her own reflection in a mirror.

“Not long.” Kipp whispered back. He was not lying.
After only a few hundred feet they were at a large opening. Then,
Kipp turned to Jane and placed a gentle hand on one shoulder, as if
to reassure her. “Watch this.” Without warning, he turned off his
torch and Jane’s first instinct was to squeal. She held a hand to
her mouth. Then she pulled it back again and realized she could not
even see the hand in front of her face. Kipp grabbed her free hand
and held it tight. “Wait for it.”

Jane was about to ask him to turn it back on when
something strange happened. The tunnel, which had been completely
dark, started to glow an incandescent green. Jane looked up to see
hundreds, maybe thousands of little grubs glowing on the roof of
the chamber. In that moment she forgot they were deep underground,
she forgot her fear and her desire to leave.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Glow worms.”

“I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t. This is the only spot they can be
found. The rest of the mine doesn’t have the conditions for them.
Not enough air and moisture. Come on, let me show you something
else.” He pulled her along, by the hand and led her to the far side
of the chamber. He had switched the torch back on and was looking
for something in the dirt. He brushed the dust away a bit and
grabbed hold of a plank of wood. He lifted it up and revealed a
ladder leading down a very narrow opening. She followed him
down.

At the bottom was a freshly cut area. Kipp put the
lantern he’d been carrying in his other hand down, got out a box of
matches and lit it. The whole space was lit by a warm yellow glow.
He turned off the torch. In the space was a rough table, with two
crates as chairs. There was a shelf against one wall and some tin
buckets and other implements underneath. Kipp put the lantern on
the table and took off his ruck sack. Jane took hers off as well,
thinking they would be here a while.

“What is this place?”

“Kipp’s Chamber,” came the proud response.

“Do you sleep here?”

“Can’t, it’s too…it’s not as safe as the camp site.”
He was about to say dangerous, but he didn’t want to scare her off.
He shouldn’t have been so concerned. Jane, despite her prudish
demeanor plus the fact that she was a girl, appeared not so easily
scared. Uncertain, maybe, inexperienced, definitely, but not timid.
Not like other girls.