Flight of the Jabiru (33 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

That morning Rick began working on his boat's engine again at first light. By the time he had it working again, his nerves were frazzled so he decided to do some fishing which always relaxed him. He moved from one of his favorite fishing spots to another. As he motored past reeds about fifty yards from Sampan Creek, he caught the odor of rotting flesh. Searching for the source, he spotted a dead Ibis. Millions of flies were buzzing around the carcass of the old bird, but he knew it wouldn't be long before a crocodile discovered the easy meal. He decided he'd use the carcass as bait for a trap, but the Ibis was too far from the bank to be reached without foolishly wading into the water surrounding the reeds. Using a long pole with a hook on it, he retrieved the bird from the safety of the boat. The bird was rapidly decomposing in the heat. While the smell was tantalizing to a crocodile, it made his stomach retch.

Securing the boat to an overhanging tree branch, he climbed onto the billabong bank and set off to the area where he'd placed the smaller of his traps, dragging the rotting carcass on a piece of fishing line behind him to avoid the smell. When he came upon his trap, he was shocked to find it smashed to pieces and the buffalo bait-meat gone. His traps were sturdy, so he knew only one crocodile could've done such damage. It had rained the previous night, so the mud near the trap was soft. It didn't take him long to find the indentation of a large crocodile foot in the mud, with the toes clearly indicated. One was missing.

Rick was excited, but also afraid because the monster croc was in the area. A crocodile that big had an insatiable appetite and the smell of the dead Ibis was a temptation too good to pass up, so he discarded the bird and hurried back to the boat. Once aboard he went to start the engine, but movement in the water near the reeds caught his eye. One of the biggest crocodile heads he'd ever seen surfaced from the depths of the billabong. Everything that Lara had told him about the monster croc flashed through his mind. She hadn't been exaggerating about its size. If anything, she'd been conservative. He was at least eighteen feet long.

The croc slowly swam towards the boat, eyeing Rick, who half expected it to leap out of the water. As a precaution, he stepped back from the side of the boat in case it was overturned. The croc boldly swam alongside the boat. Rick couldn't resist looking over the side again. He gaped in awe at the magnificent creature and estimated it was at least eighty years old, possibly older, and probably close to two thousand pounds in weight. Then as suddenly as it had appeared, it disappeared below the surface of the billabong.

Mentally Rick was doing quick calculations in his mind and wondering whether his big trap was large enough and strong enough to hold the beast. It was, he concluded, and in a hurry set the trap. He was excited and exhilarated, but at the same time fearful the crocodile hunters would kill the crocodile before he could relocate it. He didn't want that to happen. It was too magnificent to lose its life so heartlessly.

Starting the boat engine, he couldn't wait to tell Lara that he'd seen the crocodile again. The first time had been some time ago, and he'd caught just a glimpse at dusk. He hadn't seen it since, and certainly not so close that he could almost touch it.

The girls had headed east, following the river. Much to Lara's relief, the hunting party had gone in a westerly direction. Lara, in particular, was grateful that the mornings were relatively cool, but she would've given her soul for a cool shower and a clean dress. After walking for just over half an hour while keeping the river within view, they caught the smell of wood smoke. The fisherman's camp was close by, and Lara was hoping he was cooking breakfast. She was dying for a mug of tea. She didn't even care if it didn't contain milk or sugar. If the fisherman happened to be frying eggs, then that was even better.

After walking for another five minutes, they came upon a campsite. Lara was surprised to see a half-naked Aboriginal woman sitting near the fire with a crudely built hut behind her, but Jiana didn't appear surprised at all. There were also several children of varying ages, mostly naked, playing around the untidy campsite. The youngest child was suckling at the woman's sagging breast. There wasn't any sign of a man.

“Hello,” Jiana said. The woman looked surprised to see two women, but she didn't respond to the greeting. Jiana then spoke to her in the Aboriginal language. The woman replied, but she was staring at Lara, who understood she too had a fascination for blond hair.

“The fisherman is this woman's husband,” Jiana explained to Lara. “She says he's down by the water.” They couldn't see the water because the campsite was amid a forest of Ironwood and Eucalypt.

“It's fortunate for us that you speak the local language,” Lara said, thinking the fisherman had to be fearless when it came to crocs if he was by the water's edge.

“This woman is from the Limilngan-Wulna clan, local to this area. Our language is a bit different, but we are still able to understand each other.”

“Do you think the fisherman is white?”

“Yeah, he's a white fella. Can't you tell from the creamy kids? They like me.”

“The kids are varying shades of color,” Lara said. They were all close in age, though, so she pitied the woman who appeared to have had them one after the other.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” a raspy, unwelcoming voice barked from behind them.

The girls turned to see an old man doing up his trousers. A shovel lay at his feet, so they could only guess what he'd been doing. He was extremely thin and possibly not as old as his hunched frame and graying hair suggested. His long, unkempt beard was also varied in color. His hair was pushed straight back and had probably been in urgent need of cutting five years earlier. His sleeveless shirt, stained with sweat and dirt, lacked even one button and his trousers, which had been crudely cut off just below the knees, were held up by a piece of rope. He wasn't wearing shoes. His legs and feet, along with his arms and face, were tanned as brown as shoe polish and his skin was as leathery as hide.

“We walkin' home,” Jiana said, noticing animal skulls and snakeskins around the campsite.

He frowned suspiciously. “Where's home?”

“Shady Camp billabong,” Jiana offered. The man's Aboriginal wife appeared nervous, which made her feel uneasy.

“We need to cross the river and we were hoping you had a boat,” Lara added.

“Is that right?” the man said, coming towards them. He looked as unfriendly as he sounded, which was disheartening.

“Do you have a boat, sir?” Lara asked politely.

“Yeah, don't use it much, though.”

“We should introduce ourselves. I'm Lara Penrose and this is Jiana Chinmurra. We're teachers in Shady Camp. We walked here from the Arnhem Highway and we need to cross the river. We'd be very grateful if you could help us.”

“How grateful?”

Lara was stunned. “What do you mean, Mr.?”

“Have you got any money?”

“A little, but surely you don't expect us to pay you to take us across the river. It's not that far,” Lara stated crossly. She might've offered, but she baulked at being extorted.

“Gas for the boat isn't cheap,” the man said. “And that's only going to get worse.”

Lara felt they didn't have much choice. She took the rucksack off Jiana's back and got her purse out. “I've only got a pound and some coins. We were in Darwin to pick up our pays when it was bombed.”

“Bombed!”

“Yes, didn't you see any planes or hear the bombs from here?”

“I have seen planes going over, but they were too high to tell whether they were theirs or ours. I also heard what I thought was distant thunder. It must've been the bombs.”

“Darwin came under heavy attack from the Japs at around ten o'clock yesterday morning. Jiana and I were on Stokes Hill when the first planes came over and started dropping bombs. We were witness to the burning and sinking of ships, to men being burned alive and blown to pieces. I have no doubt that those shocking memories will haunt us for the rest of our lives.” She felt emotional talking about it.

There must've been something in Lara's words that touched the fisherman's heart because his demeanor completely changed. “I moved out here to avoid being enlisted to fight in the war. You might think that is cowardly, but two of my older brothers were killed in France in 1915. Fortunately I was too young to be drafted them, but their deaths broke my mother's heart. She never recovered. In fact it killed her, and what did my brother's die for? Now there's another war going on and they're not getting my help to kill someone else's brothers or sons.”

“You're right. All these deaths are senseless,” Lara agreed.

“I'm Burt Watson and this is my wife, Dorrie. Would you girls like a cup of tea? We've got no sugar or milk, though. The nearest supply store on the river is Middle Point and I haven't been that way for ages because I don't have enough gas for the boat.”

“Then I insist you take what money I have,” Lara said, also having a change of heart. She foraged in her purse and produced all the money she had.

“No, I don't want it,” Burt said. “You don't know when you'll next get paid if Darwin has been bombed.”

“I insist. You have quite a few children to feed and life on the river can't be easy.”

“Dorrie taught me how to live off the land, so we get by, and the kids never go hungry. I should have enough fuel to get you across the river and get back.”

“Thank you. Right now, I'd give my left arm for a good cup of tea.”

“Well I can give you that,” Burt said. He spoke to Dorrie, instructing her to find two clean mugs. “We got some meat leftover from breakfast. Would you like some?”

“I'd eat anything right now,” Lara said gratefully. She thought he might've caught a duck by the river.

“That's good ‘cause we just about live on croc meat.”

“Croc meat!” Lara was stunned, but so hungry that she was open to trying it.

She and Jiana were handed a mug of black tea and a piece of meat from a pan over the fire, but no plate or cutlery. Jiana began eating the meat without hesitation. Lara closed her eyes and took a bite. Somehow she managed to get it down.

Lara's mouth dropped open when Burt took them down to his boat following a lengthy discussion on the war. Burt and Dorrie had been living at their camp for a year. Before that they'd lived at another campsite close to the Adelaide River. Because of the isolation they were completely unaware of the evacuation of Darwin, or even that Pearl Harbor had been bombed and Singapore had fallen to the Japs. It all came as quite a shock.

Burt's boat was moored under a big river gum. The harsh sun had long ago peeled the paint from the wood, so it was hard to see what color it had once been, but there were patches of blue and hints of green. It had a small canvas canopy, which had torn in places under the weight of so many gum leaves and branches that had fallen from the trees.

When the girls were aboard, Burt struggled to get the outboard motor to fire up. It coughed and smoked and he cussed and cursed. Lara looked at Jiana in dismay. She still couldn't consider crossing the river in a canoe, so the fishing boat was their only hope. Eventually, the engine spluttered to life. Lara prayed they made it to the other side, about one hundred yards away.

Jiana untied the rope securing the boat to a tree branch and Burt backed the boat away from the riverbank with Elsie, Dorrie, and the children looking on. Lara waved to the family, feeling an overwhelming measure of relief as they set off at a slow pace, with the engine still spluttering.

They were about twenty yards from the riverbank, when Lara's feet became wet. She looked down to see the boat was taking on water.

“Burt, we're sinking,” she cried in alarm.

Burt seemed unperturbed. “The old gal always takes on a bit of water, but we'll get to the other side,” he said unconcerned.

They were about half way across the river, and being followed by several large crocodiles, when the engine sputtering became worse, and then it died altogether.

“What's wrong?” Lara asked Burt, as he tried to restart it.

“If I knew that I'd fix the damn thing,” Burt cussed as he fiddled with it.

Lara and Jiana's feet were by now quite wet. The water seemed to be coming in at a faster rate with the boat not moving.

“I really think we're sinking, Burt,” Lara said, glancing at several pairs of eyes just visible above the surface of the water not far from the boat. She was sure they were about to be served up as breakfast for the hungry crocodiles. “Please do something!”

“What do you think I'm doing?” Burt bit back impatiently.

“Maybe you've run out of fuel,” Lara said, thinking he'd overestimated how much was left.

“No, we still have fuel, but maybe there's a blockage in the fuel line.”