Arthur Upfield - Man of Two Tribes

“Ahoy!” Jenks cried, and darted forward to the hole, now big enough to permit even Riddell to pass with comfort.

“Wait,” shouted Bony, and Jenks looked back when on hands and knees he was about to crawl through the opening -backward and upward into the muzzle of an automatic. “Stand up, Jenks. If you don’t obey, I’ll certainly shoot. That’s better. There will be no breaking out until dark tonight.”

“Ruddy gun! Yougotta a ruddy gun? Caw! I wasn’tgoin ’ to do no harm, Inspector.”

“I thought you might, Jenks. In your excitement of course. Bring the gang.”

They stood just within the entrance, to see Bony squatted on his heels before the ragged opening, the pistol in full view. He could see the elation in their eyes, their quivering mouths, their hands which trembled as though they held freedom, for now, at once. Before they could speak, he called Maddoch to him.

“Iam trusting you, Maddoch,” he said. “And if you fail me I’ll shoot you like a rabbit. Go through the hole, follow the passage beyond, see where it leads. Go as far as possible, and stop before you reach the open, if there is an opening to the ground above. Clear?”

“Yes. You can trust me, Inspector.”

The little man slid by into the hole. They heard the clink of rocks being moved to permit passage, and then only silence. Bony said:

“Brennan, come here.” Brennan came forward and was told to stop at five feet from Bony. “Iam trusting you, too, Mark. Remember what we spoke of about discipline?”

“Of course. What do I do?”

“I don’t want to shoot anyone, Mark, but I am determined that our break-out shall be at the right time, in an orderly manner. I trust you to back me. The same applies to the rest of you. You have been warned repeatedly, and now I expect you to behave with reason and for the benefit of us all.”

The initial surge of excitement threatening the bounds of control was subsiding, and resentment which had flamed in Jenks was dying. Silently they waited for the return of Maddoch.

Maddoch came to the broken wall, came through the opening fast. He was beaming with joy, his face transfigured. He reported to Bony:

“The passage goes on up and then slightly left. There’s a long crack in the roof about two inches wide which provides the light. When I saw the end of the passage I thought I could go no further. But I could. There’s a narrow slit on one side, and I could just squeeze through it into a sort of tunnel. It’s just big enough for me to negotiate, but the sides and roof are all rubble so it can be made big enough for Joe. The other end of the tunnel comes out into a kind of shallow hole covered with saltbush.”

Triumphantly he produced sprays of this miniature shrub, and they surrounded him, to touch the velvety succulent leaves. The girl held a leaf against hercheek, and to Bony came the thought that this was the woman, natural for once.

Maddoch clutched his arm, and he turned to look into appealing eyes and see the faintly trembling lips.

“I want to go, too, Inspector. I could smell the sunshine out there. I felt it on my hand when I slipped it outside, just for a moment. I must go with you. I couldn’t stay now.”

The Plain Waited

ATbreakfast Bony felt that his fellow prisoners were less edgy than he had known them, and this he believed due to sound sleep and realisation that discipline was essential. Following the meal, he had slept in the hole enlarged by the explosion, so that none could pass him and break out to the Plain. Brennan had elected to stay in the hall with Havant to allay suspicion should the aborigines chance to come again, and Myra, saying that she had some rough sewing to do, had retired to her ‘room’.

On waking, Bony found both the doctor and Brennan asleep, and from the angle of the sun-shaft judged the time to be about three o’clock. He proceeded to explore in Maddoch’s steps, and checked the little man’s report with satisfaction. An hour’s work at one place only would clear the way for the massive Riddell.

He was brewing coffee when Myra appeared in the kitchen where the stove had been returned. She asked two questions.

“Would you make me a cigarette with your tobacco? Do we start tonight?”

She had evidently slept well. Her manner was cheerful and she was eager to co-operate. He told her they would leave early this coming night, completed a cigarette for her and poured the coffee.

“There is a deal of preparation to be done, Myra, and I want you to bake as much bread as possible between now and, say, seven o’clock. Give us a solid stew for dinner. What possessions do you want to take?”

“Possessions! I haven’t any excepting a broken comb, my nail scissors and a small mirror. Is it going to be as hard as you’ve made out?”

“Every bit-especially on our feet. I’ll make shoes for you which will help a little. I still urge you to remain.”

“I am going, Inspector,” she said, with sudden tightening of her mouth. “I’ll get through, for you won’t find me weaker than the men. I’ve too much to live for.”

“Smelling headlines already?”

“It’s like attar of roses.”

“Then permit me the homely smell of lunch while I wake the others.”

They were gathered about the canvas cloth when Bony outlined the preparations to be made, and now the only rebel was Lucy, who sulked at being tethered to the camel saddle. After the meal, he ordered all the lamps to be lit and taken to the main cavern, where they could work unseen by chance visitors above.

Having set aside a blanket for each traveller, he put Jenks to work at tearing several blankets in strips, and Brennan to fetch supplies of tinned meat, coffee and sugar, a bag of flour and oddments, including matches and tobacco. One of the water drums was filled by Riddell at the stream in the Jeweller’s Shop.

“Maddoch! Are you still determined to go?” Bony asked, and Maddoch nodded, after glancing at Dr. Havant. The doctor said he would wait with what patience he could muster, and was not by any means dismayed by a period of solitude.

Distributing the weight as evenly as possible, the five blankets were rolled about the foodstuffs and oddments, tied with strips of blanket and fitted with slings to carry the roll from the shoulder, a la sundowner’s swag. In readiness, they were placed in the kitchen, and with them was put the water-drum and the rough harness Riddell was to wear to carry it. Bony did consider taking old Patsy’s one-man tent, but decided against it.

“We are almost finished with our preparations. Nothing superfluous,” he told them. “The last thing to be done is to fashion shoes with pieces of blankets. You see…”

“My feet are tough enough,” Jenks interjected, and was supported by Riddell.

Tersely Bony told them of the precaution taken by an aborigine to prevent his tracks being followed-the gluing of masses of feathers to the feet with blood.

“The next best material is wool from the sheep’s back. As we have neither feathers nor wool, we must use the blanket. And we have to be quite sure that our blanket shoes won’t come off; they will be a little ungainly at first.”

They made pads to fit the soles of their feet, and the pads were bound with strips of blanket which were wound up to the knees like puttees, Bony warning them that the low bush was tough.

“Looks like we’re off to the South Pole,” remarked Myra. “If only we had a camera! What sights for sore eyes we’d be on television. How do I look?”

Placing one hand on a hip, she danced across the uneven floor; Brennan chuckled, and Bony had to smile.

“On television, Myra, you’d knock ’emfor sure. That patch on your bottom looks terrific.” Brennan chortled, and Bony suddenly realised this Brennan was new to him. As was the girl. Even Maddoch had changed. His eyes were alive.