Arthur Upfield - Wings above the Diamantina

“That Bill Sikes, he fine feller,” Illawalli said with conviction. “Hegrab me and he pull me out of the water. Then herunalonga sand range and in he go for you and Shuteye. Shuteye he not let you go till he pretty near dead drowned, and Bill Sikes he have to get Shuteye and you out together. No Bill Sikes, Bony, you dead now, allri ’!”

“I can believe that, Illawalli. How do you feel?”

The old man’s black eyes twinkled. The white stubble of beard and the fringe of scant white hair, to be seen below the flying helmet, emphasized the colour of his skin.

“We rode the emu that flies, the white captain and me,” he said. “We see the clouds of the beeg stormri ’ close. Then we go look over top of them. Cripes, I was cold, Bony! I shiver. I want little fires all round, but I don’ mind. The emu that flies couldn’t get over that storm. She thunder and she lightning. Funny, I want to puff and puff, and puffin’ no good. Then the white feller captain-him good feller allri ’-him send that emu down closer to ground and I stop puff puffing and don’t want little fires no more. Then we get closer to the storm and presently we fly over station homestead. But itain’tno plurry good. We’re too late for the emu to stop and have shuteye. We fly along above track. Then we see house. Then we come down, and the emu begins to runalonga ground. Woof! Bang! Som’it hit me wallop, and I go shuteye.

“I wake up with little white feller looking at me, and tall white fellerclost. He had beeg eyes and a devil in his mouth, and he say: ‘You Chief Illawalli?’ I say, yes, too right! Hesay: ‘You come see Bony?’ I say, yes, too right. Hesay: ‘I take you see ole Bony. This, white feller, hetake care of white feller captain.’

“So off we go inmotee car. She rain and she thunder and lightning, and the tall white feller he drivemotee like hell. Presently we stop at a pub like that one up in Burketown. Then white feller with devil in his mouth, hesay: ‘Yougotta stop here and wait for Bony. Bony come bimeby. Then hetake me down steps. Hego away and come back with pannikins and a little devil you take offshiney things from bottles. Him not too bad. We drink up goodo. I have a shuteye long time, wake up, and a drink up goodo, go shuteye some more. Bimeby little feller white feller he came down and he say: ‘How you do, Illawalli? You have good drink up. All yours. You no pay. So I drink up like an ole fool. Now ole Illawalli him pretty crook.”

“Did the devil in the white feller’s mouth go like this?” asked Bony, imitating John Kane’s peculiar mouth twitch.

“Toori ’!” assented Illawalli. “Nowwhaffor you want me, Bony?”

“You ’member long time ago I sent an emu that flies to bring you to a station called Windee, and there you met old Moongalliti and told me all that was in his mind?”

“’Course! I don’ forget. You ’member I wantum to be beeg feller blackfeller with ole Moongalliti and I gave him white feller dope and then when he plenty sick we go look-see him and I give him blackfeller dope make him well. Me, I beeg blackfeller after that. Too right!”

Bony told all he knew concerning the condition of Muriel Markham, and of his hopes that, by the aid of his remarkable powers, Illawalli would read the young woman’s mind and tell them many things.

“Goodo! I see what she thinks.” Then the ancient chief leaned towards Bony, his keen eyes studying the detective, in them a look of entreaty. “An’ you ’member me say one, two, three times me say, I give you the secrets my father give me and his father give him and so ’way back beforeAra waded through the sea to come and drop spirit babies in the bush to wait for blackfeller lubras to come by?”

“Yes, I ’member,” assented Bony wistfully. “But the price you ask I cannot pay. Do not tempt me again, Illawalli. I cannot pay it. I cannot give up my whitefeller life to rule your tribe after you dead.”Then, as though to put temptation behind him, he called to Shuteye.“Hi, you Shuteye! That tobacco dry yet?”

The two blacks had kindled the fire and were drying tobacco and cigarette papers. At Bony’s voice they turned about to grin delightedly athim, and Bill Sikes called out:

“You good, Bony! Youwanta smoke?”

Bony stood up.

“I do,” he replied. “How far are we from Coolibah?”

“’Bout ten mile,” replied Shuteye.

“Then, when that tobacco is dry, we will be getting along. I’m hungry. We all must be hungry.”

“Too right, we’re hungry,” agreed the fat Shuteye. And Bill Sikes asked:

“Hey! Wot are wegonna do with Mr Kane? He’sroostin ’ like a fowl in a tree out there.”

“Where?” demanded the astonished detective.

“Out there!” shouted Shuteye mirthfully. “We come along pass him, ’member, when I lug youalonga.”

They pointed to the nearest line of coolibah trees, fully a third of a mile across the brown flood, and, knowing the aborigines as he did, the detective was astounded by the casual manner in which John Kane’s dangerous position was made known to him. Illawalli had recited his adventures; the others had laboured at making a fire with primitive methods: all while a white man was in grave danger of drowning.

Faintly from the north the soft chug-chugging of a motor-cycle engine reached them, and above the relief that Kane had not reached Coolibah was now the satisfaction that Constable Lovitt was approaching. The aborigines-their philosophy in many respects was delightful-thought to do nothing until their leader Bony, should recover sufficiently to continue to give directions with regard to the rescue of a man whom they knew was to be arrested.

Lovitt came in sight, riding his machine with practised facility along the foot of thesandhills. His progress was necessarily slow, and it was some few minutes before he arrived.

“Glad to find that you got over all right, sir.”

“Yes,” admitted Bony. “We have had a long and arduous swim. I would have been drowned had it not been for Shuteye and Bill Sikes. I shall make it a point to see that they are suitably rewarded.”

“I did not meet John Kane, sir,” Lovitt explained. “When I came to the flood I knew that if either you or he did escape it that you would land far south of the road crossing. Have you seen anything of him?”

“Oh, yes. Like us, he was caught,” Bony replied. “Only a minute ago my attention was drawn to the fact that he is now roosting like a fowl in one of the nearest line of coolibah trees. How we are going to rescue him I do not rightly know. I am afraid I could never manage it.”

Lovitt gazed out to the trees and vainly tried to pick out John Kane, despite the eager assistance of the two blacks. They could see him, they asserted, but the constable could not make him out until he used the field-glasses he carried in his kit-bag.

“Yes, there he is,” he said. “He’s in that largest tree towards the end of the line. Well, sir, I think I’ll go out for him.”

“The current is very strong, Lovitt,” Bony pointed out “There is no possibility of obtaining a boat, I suppose?”

“’Fraidnot, sir. No, I’ll have to swim. Will you come with me, Sikes?”

“Too right!” replied the ugly but tough aboriginal.

“Me too,” chipped in Shuteye. “We go up river about a mile, swim down to Mr Kane, and then fetch him outalonga thatsandhill down there.”

“That’s sound,” agreed Lovitt. He eyed Illawalli and said: “You can come with us up river and take charge of our clothes. Bring them down to where we’ll get ashore.”

They all walked northward along the edge of the river for nearly a mile until Lovitt decided, after a searching study of the flotsam, on the place to take off. White man and blacks stripped, and with dawning comprehension Bony watched the constable strap his pair of handcuffs to his naked waist.