Forest Shadows (11 page)

‘Yeah, go back to sleep,' Snook said coming awake. His voice was heavy with sleep. ‘It was only a couple of Tasssie devils fightin' over somethin'. I heard 'em too. And Quigley …'

‘Yes?'

‘Do us all a favour; don't sleep on your back. You've been snorin' all night.'

Snook was the first to crawl out of bed in the morning. The rain hadn't stopped. Disappointed, he walked over to the window and looked at the sky. There were a few breaks in the clouds. ‘Looks like it might clear soon,' he called out. Hoping it would, he set about coaxing the fire back to life. Satisfied that it would burn, he crossed over to the food cupboard where he took out a loaf of bread. He found the billycan, filled it with water from the bucket and set it on the woodheater. Using a pair of tongs, he began to make toast.

The slight, burning smell woke Jars for the second time that morning. She struggled out of her sleeping bag. After letting Shadow out for a run, she joined Snook.

‘Shall I wake Reg?' she asked as she fetched some plates, mugs and cutlery from the cupboard – as well as some butter, milk and a jar of raspberry jam. ‘He's fast asleep.'

‘I'll give him a shake,' Snook offered. ‘You can butter the toast if you want.'

After doing as Snook asked, she decided it was time to rouse Quenton. ‘Breakfast is ready. You'd better get up.'

Quenton groaned as he sat up. ‘I'd rather have it over here. My mother always gives me breakfast in bed.'

Snook laughed. ‘You've gotta be jokin'. It's get up or starve in this place, so you'd better make up your mind, and fast. The water for the tea's on the boil.' He threw some tea-leaves into the billycan. ‘Jars has buttered the toast, too. It's time to eat'

Grumbling to himself, Quenton joined them. So did Reg, who was wiping sleep from his eyes. ‘Sorry I slept in,' he said, ‘but I see you guys have been busy.'

Snook glanced out the window again. ‘It hasn't stopped rainin'. We still goin' to Mr Wu's?'

Reg strode over and opened the door, looking outside. ‘It looks like it might clear soon. When it does, we'll head off.'

‘We might even run into those
hoozmagoog
things Jars was tellin' us about,' Snook joked.

‘You'd better hope not,' Jars said. ‘Mr Wu looked really worried when he told me about them.'

‘Bring 'em on. That what I say.'

Reg put an end to the chit chat. ‘Bring on the dishes; that's what I say. What do you say?'

I
t was early Sunday morning when Hector and Evelyn, still with sleep in their eyes and not totally convinced about Quigley's get rich scheme, staggered into the back yard of their Timber Creek house to hitch their fifteen foot runabout to the station wagon. They both wore rain jackets. ‘Be quick about it,' Madeline said, not wanting to get wet.

After a quick coffee and a slice of toast, Quigley joined them. With Evelyn slipping into the driver's seat, Quigley into the passenger side and Hector in the back, they drove off. An hour later, after winding their way through the Gog Range, they filled the station wagon with petrol, and the boat with two-stroke at Stevens BP just outside Sheffield.

The Strahan village lay further to the south-west, about a four-hours' drive over the mountains. Struggling to see through the rain that had persisted during the night and most of the morning, Evelyn turned the wipers up to full.

They'd barely gone ten kilometres when Hector poked his head over the front seat. ‘So, how about coughin' up, Quigley? What's this map about that you're keepin' so quiet?'

‘I've already told you, you'll find out when the time is right – perhaps when we get to Strahan.'

Quigley saw Hector slouch back, arms folded, his face twisted as if he'd just smelled gas. He smiled.
Depends how I feel, Hector; depends whether your griping stops.
He smiled again. He liked being in a position of power.

Keeping her eyes on the road, Evelyn asked Quigley, ‘So, if that's the case, would it be too much to ask what your grand plans are for today?'

‘We'll check in at the motel and then have some lunch. After that we'll launch the boat at a place I know on the edge of the town. All we have to do then is to head for the forest across the bay, find the landing spot past Teepookana; then we'll follow the map that'll lead us to the treasure. It's as simple as that.'

It was lunchtime when they pulled into the West Coast Motel. ‘You go in and register,' Quigley said to Evelyn. ‘The rooms are in your name.'

She slid out of the car and then walked into reception. A short, dumpy man with glasses handed over keys to three separate rooms and at Evelyn's request, booked them in for a late dinner that evening.

Thanking him, Evelyn returned to the car. ‘Here's your room keys,' she said, passing them through the open car window. ‘Go and find your rooms while I park the car. I'll see you both shortly in the restaurant.' She climbed back into the station wagon and turned over the motor.

When they were seated in the motel dining area waiting to be served, Hector wasted no time. ‘Okay, Quigley, you said you'd tell us your so-called secret when we got to Strahan. Well, here we are, so let's have it.'

Quigley glanced around the restaurant. There were only a few other tables occupied. He reached into his top pocket and extracted the single sheet of A4 paper.

At that moment a waitress appeared. ‘Would you like to order?' she asked, notebook and pencil poised in the air. ‘Perhaps drinks while you wait?'

‘Get lost,' Hector barked. ‘We're busy.' Flustered, she moved on to the next table.

‘Hector!' Evelyn scolded, as she glanced around, furtively gauging the reaction of other diners. ‘Stop drawing attention to us.' Satisfied that they were safe from the eyes and ears of the other guests, she turned to Quigley. ‘Now, what have you got?'

‘If you remember, my words were that I would
perhaps
show the map to you in Strahan. Not that I would.'

Hector picked up one of the table knives. He twirled it in his fingers. ‘Stop foolin' around, Quigley, and just get on with it.'

Whether it was the sight of Hector playing menacingly with the knife or not, Quigley made a decision. He placed the sheet of paper on the table; taking his time with showman-like flair, he flattened it out with the back of his hand. ‘I hadn't noticed it when I first saw the map, but I've since discovered something that I think you'll find most interesting.'

‘Explain,' Evelyn said in a demanding voice.

‘On the front of this piece of paper is the riddle, of which you are well aware. Now, I agree with you that on its own, the riddle, or brainteaser if you like, doesn't make much sense. It's quite puzzling in fact.' He paused, then turned the paper over. ‘On the back of the sheet, all but invisible, I discovered a faint indentation. As you would expect my discovery was quite unexpected, but there it was – an indentation of a map. Someone, probably the now-deceased Chinese person, had drawn the map on another piece of paper with this sheet underneath. He must have had a heavy hand, because he left a depression – the indentation that I have now traced over and brought to life.'

Still in their seats, Evelyn and Hector leaned forward to verify what he'd been telling them. Hector tried to pick the map up. Quigley snatched it from the table out of Hector's reach. ‘No! I don't think you can be trusted with it just yet. You'll just have to trust me and believe that the map does indeed reveal a route through the forest – to a treasure.'

Hector pushed back his chair and got to his feet. He leaned forward, both hands on the table, his face inches from Quigley's. He was smiling but it was an ugly smile. ‘Whatcha think you're doin', Quigley? I hardly saw your lousy map. What're you playing at?'

‘Do sit down, Hector; people are staring,' Evelyn said, although her eyes were on Quigley. ‘I must say, despite my hotheaded brother's outburst, I do agree with him; so, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate a decent look at it.'

Looking smug, Quigley folded the paper and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘It stays with me. I'll be the one to follow it. I'll be showing the way. Now, what say we try to attract the attention of that waitress? That is if your brother hasn't scared her off.'

S
oon after midday and on the advice of Mr Quigley, who knew the town well, the three headed for the small, relatively obscure jetty on the eastern shores of the town to launch the boat. The main wharf, which was in the town's centre, was too public Quigley told them and thankfully, because the rain had eased to a misty drizzle now, they were set to go.

Quigley, sitting in the passenger's seat and dressed in his new clothes purchased in Rosebery – hiking boots, corduroy trousers, flannel shirt and denim jacket – took out the map and pointed to the route they'd take. ‘We follow this through the forest as far as a river. We then turn off on a path that follows the river to the treasure. We return to the motel later tonight. Richer! It'll be simple.' They didn't know what lay ahead. They hadn't allowed for Quigley's so-called
unforeseen incidents
.

They launched the fifteen-footer, after which they motored across the bay, leaving Macquarie Harbour and Strahan behind. They stuck to the coast, passing Regatta Point Railway on their left and further on, Teepookana Landing. After searching up and down the coast for a while, they spotted their landing area, a rickety-looking jetty.

After securing the boat to one of the posts, they collected their gear; then they set off along the narrow path into the forest. ‘The rain's stopped at last,' Evelyn said, shaking water drops from her newly acquired hiking boots, also bought from the Rosebery second-hand shop.

‘Not before time,' Hector said, glancing at his watch. It was 1.15pm.

After a short walk through the forest, its trees still dripping from the rain, they came to the first landmark, the ranger's shack.

‘Is that supposed to be there?' Hector asked.

‘Quiet!' Evelyn hissed. ‘There's a girl. And there's a dog with her.'

‘What? What's she doing?' Quigley asked, his voice suddenly developing a squeak.

‘Collecting water from a river.'

‘Where?' Hector said, pushing himself forward.

‘Keep your head down!' Quigley said, shoving him behind a large tree. A fallen limb caught Hector's leg, causing him to stumble and fall.

‘Whatcha think you're doin', Quigley? Keep your hands to yourself.'

The girl looked up. They were only a stone's throw away and it looked as if she'd heard them.

‘Keep out of sight and stay absolutely quiet,' Evelyn shushed. ‘We can't afford to be seen.' They all froze, watching, as the girl, clutching a water bucket, looked their way.

‘Keep down!' Evelyn urged. ‘She may have heard us.'

After a few seconds, but what seemed like minutes, Quigley was the first to speak. ‘It's okay,' he mouthed. ‘She's gone back to filling her bucket. She couldn't have seen us.' He turned towards Evelyn. ‘I didn't expect the shack to be occupied, especially at this time of the year. The holiday season is all but over and it's coming on winter. There shouldn't have been anyone in it. Most peculiar.'

Evelyn wasn't listening; she was staring at the girl who was retracing her steps to the shack. ‘It's her,' she whispered. ‘I've seen her before. ‘It's the Aboriginal girl who spoiled our plans last year. The girl with the German Shepherd dog.'

‘Wh-what?' Quigley said his voice shaking slightly. ‘A-are you sure?'

Evelyn sneaked a look around the fern. ‘Yes, I'm positive. I'll never forget her or that dog of hers. They were the main cause of our misfortune a year ago.'

‘Can you see anyone else?' Quigley asked, his voice rising a notch. ‘Has she got any of her friends with her?'

‘It doesn't matter,' Hector said, shoving himself forward and brandishing the .22 rifle that he'd brought. ‘I've got this.'

‘Forget that,' Evelyn snapped. ‘What we have to do now is sit tight and watch. We need to find out who else is in there and what they're up to, so settle down and keep your eyes peeled.'

She looked across at Quigley, who was looking particularly worried. ‘What's the matter? Is there something else wrong that we don't know about? Something you're not telling us?'

He didn't say anything. He was watching the girl as she crossed to the shack, a bucket of water dangling by her side and the dog at her heels, watching as the door opened to reveal someone else, the last person he expected to see.

'W
ell, madam's back,' Snook said with a huge grin on his face when Jars came through the door. ‘See any hoozmagoogs out there?'

‘No,' she said, staring into space as though deep in thought.

‘What's the matter?' Snook asked, his grin disappearing. ‘Why so serious?'

‘Oh, nothing much. It's just that I heard something by the river when I was getting the water.'

‘Yeah? What was it? Did you see anythin'?'

‘No, I didn't see anything. I only heard a noise, a rustling sound coming from the scrub. It was probably an animal, a wallaby most likely.'

‘Yeah? Probably was an animal. Maybe it was one of them Tassie devils still recoverin' from Quigley's snorin'.'

‘There's one other thing though.'

‘What's that?'

‘All the time I was there, it was watching me. I could feel eyes boring into my back. It felt kind of creepy.'

‘That's it!' Quenton, said butting in. ‘I'm not going anywhere today, not when there's something out there just waiting to get us. You can all go and visit that Chinese man without me. I'm staying put!'