SOMEDAY SOON (13 page)

They were all surviving at the settlement
thanks to Sunday and Monday. The twin bothers had taught them how
to catch fish, using an age old Aboriginal method. By stripping
toxic bark from a certain reddish tree among the mangroves, then
chopping it up and tossing it into tidal pools near the mouth of
the river that had been left brimming with mullet by the outgoing
tide, they were always assured of a feed. After about half an hour,
the toxic bark fragments paralyzed the mullet and they floated up
to the surface to the eager hands of the fishermen.

‘We’re going to have to decide on some kind
of a plan,’ Faith said trying to hold back tears as once again she
and Koko walked back from the beach one morning after scanning the
horizon for Joe. ‘We have to face up to the possibility that
something’s happened to Joe and that he won’t be coming back. I
have the feeling we’re on our own now. Sooner or later we must try
and get the children out of here. And there’s no point trying to
get to the mouth of the Roper River, the missionaries that were
waiting for us will have left by now.’

‘But what can we do?’ Koko asked.

‘Joe said that the Army probably took the
Aborigines from the settlement in trucks. He said he thought there
was a dirt track leading south-west from here, to a place called
Ngukurr. It’s about forty miles upstream from the mouth of the
Roper. He said the track crosses the Phelp River about thirty miles
from here, then runs just south of the Collera mountains to
Ngukurr. We should be able to follow it all right. Even if it was
washed away in the wet, there should be fresh tracks now from the
Army vehicles. It won’t be easy but I think we have to try and make
it on foot.’

‘Ngukurr must be seventy miles from here. And
twisting and turning through rough, hilly country it could turn out
to be more like over a hundred.’ Koko shook his head. ‘I think
that’s asking too much of the children. And what if we made it to
Ngukurr and find it’s been evacuated like this place?’

‘Joe said it’s only a few more miles upstream
from Ngukurr to the police station at the settlement of Roper
Bar.’

‘Police?’ Koko stopped and turned to face
Faith, ‘You know what will happen if the police see me. It will be
straight to an internment camp. I don’t think I want to go to
Ngukurr, Roper Bar or anywhere else. I think I’d sooner take my
chances here. Besides, what if we wander off the track and lose our
way?’

‘I doubt we’ll lose it with Sunday and Monday
with us and even if we did, you and Joe never had any problem
getting your bearings at sea from the sun and the stars. The Roper
River is due south. If the worst comes to the worst we just keep
going south until we reach the river, then follow it inland.’

Koko admired Faith’s determination but
remained skeptical. ‘Look, I’ll go with you if that’s what you
want, Faith.’ He turned away and carried on walking up the beach.
‘But I won’t give myself up to the Army or the police if we do make
it to Ngukurr or Roper Bar. And from what Joe said about
uncontrolled blacks being herded into camps, I don’t think Sunday
and Monday will want to get into the clutches of the authorities
either. Perhaps it’s best just to stay here. We’re getting plenty
of fish, we caught a couple of turtles the other day and I can try
to shoot a croc again tonight. We can hold on here indefinitely if
we want to. At least we have food and shelter.’

‘Sunday told me there’s still plenty of
traditional ways to live off the land if we leave the coast. The
Aborigines have ways of surviving we know nothing about.’

Koko shrugged ‘We’re not Aboriginal
tribesmen, Faith. Neither are the girls. If we head off overland
there are other things to consider. To start with, the bloody
mosquitoes and sand flies will eat us alive sleeping outdoors. We
don’t have immunity like the blacks.’

‘
A small price to pay for saving the
children, Koko. Even if we had enough proper food and basic medical
supplies, we could be stuck here forever, perhaps in the middle of
the Japanese Army. We’ve got to go, Koko, while we’ve got the
chance. If Joe did go down in that storm and there’s no help
coming, we’ve got to get out of here while we’re still strong
enough to make it. We’ve got to think of the children. I’ve already
spoken to Sunday and Monday. They’re going to find the track this
morning. I think we’d better spend the day getting ready to pull up
stakes.’

*

The settlement was abandoned just after
dawn two days later, after Faith had scanned the ocean one more
time for a sign of
Faraway.
Sunday and Monday had spent the two days catching mullet, as
well as a few goannas, snakes and even a small wallaby. Any kind of
small container found around the village had been filled with water
from the well and Faith had used a sack of salt found in one of the
huts to salt the food, hoping to preserve it for at least two, or
three days.

The party headed off with Sunday and Koko
leading the way and Monday and Faith bringing up the rear. Everyone
but the smallest of the girls carried something Those not carrying
food or water carried a cooking utensil, a pot or something that
Faith thought might come in handy along the way. Koko had Joe’s
.303 rifle slung over his shoulder with a full clip of five rounds.
Sunday and Monday had fishing nets strung around their waists that
had been left behind on the beach when the Army took the Aborigines
away.

The track ran westerly along the northern
bank of the Rose River. In places close to the water, deep-treaded
wheel tracks of Army vehicles were clearly visible, making the way
ahead easy to follow. But robbed of sea-breezes, the further inland
the party travelled, the hotter it became. After a couple of hours,
some of the younger girls were dawdling and constantly asking for
water.

By mid-morning the very youngest children
were riding on the shoulders of the bigger girls and the adults.
Faith knew they must reach a river crossing in order to head south
and hoped it would be far enough away from the sea that the water
would be fresh so they could top up their containers. Once they
left the river, she knew the water would have to be strictly
rationed. Just before midday the party stopped in the shade of a
clump of tall gums on the riverbank. It had been decided the night
before that they would stop for two hours or so during the hottest
time of the day to give the children a chance to rest before
starting a shorter afternoon walk.

Just before sunset, tired and footsore, they
made camp near some rocky, fast-flowing shallows where, from deep
wheel ruts leading into the water, they could tell the Army had
crossed the river. Faith reckoned they had covered about ten miles
during the course of the day. Everyone was tired and many of the
children fell asleep the moment they lay down. Faith lay awake a
long time, plagued by mosquitoes and uneasily listening to the
chorus of the insects of the night. She was staring up into the
stars, wondering what had become of Joe, when sleep finally
came.

She was woken at dawn by the chatter of wild
turkeys and a host of other birds in the trees. Koko told her he
had topped up the water containers half an hour earlier with fresh
water from the river and that Sunday and Monday had already been
over to the other side and back to test the crossing. It seemed the
shallows was just a short strip of firm shale which formed a
natural ford. Sunday and Monday said it would be safe for the
bigger girls to walk across in spite of heavy run-off from the wet
still gushing over it, but the smaller children would have to be
carried over. After eating salted-mullet and wallaby, which had no
taste at all except salt, they broke camp and crossed the
river.

The second day passed much the same as the
first and the children’s demand for water was just as great.
Faith’s plan to ration water wasn’t helped by their breakfast of
salted meat. The rough track wound through scorching scrub country.
Each dusty, sweltering mile was identical to the one before it.
When they stopped at midday, Faith’s feet were aching and swollen.
When Koko eased off his shoes, Faith could tell from the watery
blisters on his feet that the long hours of walking were just as
hard on him. Only Sunday, Monday and the children who wore no shoes
at all were untroubled by their feet.

That night they made camp beside the track.
Away from the river the mosquitoes were not as bad as the night
before and after forcing down more salted fish, everyone slept long
and well. In the morning, Faith found what was left of the food was
rancid, the extreme daytime temperatures having overcome her
attempt at preservation of the meat and it had to be thrown away.
Koko said they should remain where they were while he and Sunday
and Monday went hunting for food. Sunday and Monday seemed less
concerned and said they should continue on and assured Faith they
would find something to eat along the way.

Just before midday they were crossing a dried
up claypan with small scattered patches of long grass. Sunday told
Koko it was a good place to catch wild-turkeys and told Faith to
get everyone to hide in the bushes while he and Monday set up a
trap. As soon as everyone was hidden out of sight the Aborigines
joined several lengths of fish netting together and spread it out
over the ground at the end of one of the grass patches. When it was
in place, Sunday and Monday cut sticks and made pegs which they
drove into the ground to hold down one side of the big net. Then
they took two lengths of string, tied one end of each to the loose
corners of the net, then tied a small stone to each loose end of
the string. Then they walked onto the grass patch and set it on
fire.

Dense smoke swirled up into the air and,
fanned by a light breeze, the fire raced through the grass. Almost
immediately birds of all kinds appeared from every direction and
swooped down to feed on the swarms of grasshoppers and other
insects which scrambled helter-skelter out of the grass ahead the
approaching fire. The first arrivals were smaller birds. They
gorged themselves frantically before being driven off by a large
gaggle of wild turkeys which moved in for the lion’s share of the
unexpected feed.

Sunday and Monday, who had been upwind when
they set the fire, now gradually moved downwind behind the flames
but still close enough to the fire to be hidden from view by the
thick billowing smoke. When they neared the end of the patch of
grass, the exodus of insects was at its height. As fast as the
hordes of insects emerged from the grass onto the claypan, a sea of
cackling turkeys gobbled them down. Then, at the very last moment,
Sunday and Monday hurled their stone weighted lengths of string as
far and as high as they could, lifting the fishnet up over the
feeding frenzy.

Most of the big birds sensed the danger
immediately and escaped. But when Sunday and Monday burst out of
the smoke, there were more than a dozen turkeys tangled up and
struggling to escape from the netting. Koko and Faith led the
charge from the bushes to pounce on the big birds and wring their
necks while Sunday and Monday, grinning from ear to ear and howling
in delight, raced across the claypan in pursuit of two big snakes
which had also fled the inferno.

They walked no further that day and made camp
at the edge of the claypan and lit fires. It was mid-afternoon
before all the turkeys had been plucked, cleaned and cooked along
with the snakes. After everyone had eaten their fill, there was
food left over. Faith urged everyone to try and eat more because
the fresh meat would be spoiled by morning. When darkness came,
everyone was sound asleep.

They broke camp early the next morning. Faith
was determined to try to make up some of the miles they had lost
the day before. Because the wildlife that could provide fresh food
might be disturbed by the main party, she sent Koko and Sunday on
ahead to hunt, telling them to stop at midday for the usual rest
break. In the late morning, Faith heard a single gunshot and later
they found Koko and Sunday cooking kangaroo meat over a fire beside
the track.

They made around fourteen miles that day.
Faith was glad her feet didn’t seem to be swelling anymore and she
was amazed at how well the girls were coping. Even at such young
ages it was plain they had a natural affinity with the harsh
environment. Everything seemed to be going well. No-one was going
hungry, and according to Faith’s calculations, with any luck they
would reach the Phelp River sometime the next day where they could
top up on water.

They followed the same procedure the next
day. Sunday and Monday went on ahead to scout for food and hoping
to reach the Phelp River by the midday rest break. Sunday knew the
closer they got to the river the more wildlife there would be.
Around mid-morning they saw hundreds of geese flying low in the
distance. Then they saw them suddenly drop down out of sight.
Sunday knew the river or a patch of wetland was close.

A little further on they saw kangaroo heading
for the same area where the geese had gone down. It was off to the
right of the track through a patch of dense brush. Koko and Sunday
left the track and began to move cautiously through it. Gradually
the vegetation became even thicker and they could barely see more
than a few yards ahead. Koko raised the rifle defensively and crept
forward, treading softly and intermittently stopping to look and
listen. With only four rounds remaining in the clip and with the
rifle almost useless against ducks, Koko’s mind was set on
kangaroo. Any moment he expected to have one in his sights.

Sunday heard a movement in the scrub ahead of
them. He tapped on Koko’s shoulder and raised a finger to his lips.
Both men stood still and listened. After a moment, Koko too, could
hear the sound of something moving through the foliage directly in
front of them. The sounds grew louder and louder. Still they saw
nothing. But it was plain either a mob of kangaroo or something
very large was approaching.