Chapter Eighteen
“STROLL normally to the kitchen and tell them to stop work on the rock. Ask Brennan to come to meâwithout haste.”
Havant rose and crossed to the annexe. The girl went on with her cooking. Bony yawned deliberately, lit a cigarette and avoided glancing up at the opening in the roof.
“Sit down, Mark, I want to talk to you,” he said when Brennan appeared. “I shall rely on you to assist me in maintaining some kind of discipline from now on. I have been telling the doctor that our greatest hurdle is the aborigines. If you look up casually you may see one, or his shadow. The shadow of a man will move faster than that of a cloud.”
“Abo, all right, Inspector. One's looking down at us now.”
“Be natural. Make a cigarette.” On looking upward, there was then nothing to be seen other than the fading blue of the early evening sky. “Are you convinced, Mark?”
“Yes, of course. Why?”
Bony reiterated what he had told Dr. Havant.
“And so we break out of here precisely as though we were in Goulburn jail. Those aborigines are the warders, Mark. But we haven't a night watch to contend with, and therefore all our work must be done at night. I'm glad that fellow's appearance convinced you; you could help me to convince the others.”
“Sure thing, I'll do that. I understand, too, that we could make a muck of things, and toss away a hell of a good chance. The others'll have to be drilled and bashed if they won't fall in. You'll find me on your side all the way. As I said, I'm going to get there, and I'm not standing for any back chat.”
“Good! How's the boring going?”
“In about two inches. Think those abos heard the tapping?”
“They could have done, but if we don't persist they'll be baffled. Tell the others to come out here and relax, pretend they are bored, fed up, and all that. I may persuade Myra to brew a billy of tea.”
As Brennan was leaving, Myra left her stove and stood before Bony. He stood also, inviting her to be seated with him on the pack-saddle.
“What's the conference about?” she asked, coolly.
“Aborigines. They're up top.”
“How d'you know that?”
“I saw their shadows. Mark saw one fellow looking down at us.”
“Oh! I thought you were plotting to leave me behind.”
“I ought to have been doing just that, but I wasn't. You have a pair of walking shoes?”
“Don't be silly. All I had on was a gown over pyjamas and a pair of slippers, when I found a man waiting outside the lavatory on the train. He hit me instead of inviting me to dress. A lady doesn't expect that kind of treatment, you know.”
“Two hundred miles is a long walk in bare feet.”
“The men haven't any boots or shoes, Inspector. You're lucky.”
“The men's feet are hardened. Yours are not. I am warning you that, should we escape, and should you refuse to wait with Havant and Maddoch, you may be abandoned.”
“I would prefer even that to staying here a second longer than necessary. You don't know what it's like being a woman without a thing to wear.”
“But I do know that you have much for which to be grateful to the doctor.”
“Him!” she exclaimed, witheringly. “I wouldn't be left alone with him for a million pounds, even though he could get me out of what he'd get me into. Still, I don't know. A million...”
“What about making us all a cup of tea?”
“Tea! We're talking about falling in and out of sin and you ask for tea. I could adore a man with a sense of humour.”
She spoke quietly, looking at Bony with unconcealed admiration, her eyes candid and open to her mind. And still Bony was unable to decide whether she was being herself or Mae West.
She made the tea, and presented each of them with a small cake she took from the oven. The doctor had schooled the men, and when he proposed a game of draughts, Riddell agreed. Bony invited Jenks to sit with him.
“Hard rock?” he asked.
“Worked harder ... and softer. Went in about two inches so far with only one of the pegs. How far you think she oughta go?”
“Eleven or twelve inches,” replied Bony. “What is your guess?”
“'Bout that. Take a long time.”
“That can't be avoided. Anyway, we dare not fire the charge till after midnight, to be on the safe side.”
“You sure them blacks is up above?”
“Brennan saw one looking down. I saw their shadows. So did the doctor. They are up there, unquestionably, Jenks.”
“Like to get me hands on one of them.”
“A pleasure which would be short-lived.”
“We takin' that tart with us, if we get out?”
“Should she wish to accompany us.”
“Gonna to be a drag.”
“Better for us all that she goes. If she remains she might do something foolish which would give away our escape to the abos.”
“Then better dong her and chuck her into Fiddler's Leap.” The suggestion was serious. It startled Bony, and he glanced sharply at the ex-sailor. A grin appeared to widen the greyish stubble on his chin. “I keep forgettin' you're a detective, Inspector.”
“That could be dangerous, Jenks. We shall get through if we pull together, and if we don't panic.”
Bony detailed to Jenks the kind of opposition they would meet, and, as with Brennan, he urged extreme caution. An hour later he seized the opportunity to talk with Riddell.
“Joe, you are the strongest man here,” he concluded. “Much depends on you. We shall have to take water, most of which you will be called upon to carry. After the first two or three days' travel, speed won't be so urgent, but food and drink will be essential right to the last yard. If we were in a real jail and planning a breakout, you would do your part, and see to it that the rest did theirs. Now, wouldn't you?”
“You're tellin' me, Inspector. What you says goes, and I'll crash the bloke wot argues about that.”
The colour faded from the faraway patch of sky and, eating dinner by lamp-light, they waited for the first star to appear above them. And when the star swung into the ragged patch, Bony permitted them to continue with the boring.
Instantly they became again like boys setting out on adventure, working in relays, hammering the tent peg into the deepening hole having a diameter of little more than an inch. Dawn was promising another day when the hole was drilled sufficiently.
They packed cordite into the hole. The caps were packed in, and, grinning joyfully, the keeper of kerosene liberally drenched torn up cartons and rags to serve as the fuse. It was Riddell who suggested that Bony take the honour of applying the match.
In the hall they waited, Bony hoping that the dawn wind would blow the fumes of kerosene and burning material out over the Plain. The blast snapped against their ears, produced a cheer and a rush to the kitchen. The boulder lay split into three sections.
They dragged the slabs away. They fought each other to lie prone, and look into the small hole, but a little larger than that Lucy would need. The scrimmage thus early made Bony
despair. When it was over, and they all had looked into the hole, he said coldly:
“May I now examine the result of the work on the boulder?”
“Yair, of course,” responded Riddell, and Brennan had sufficient grace to be ashamed. He said: “You can see daylight, Inspector. But our chances don't look so good.”
Through a funnel Bony could see a larger space beyond it. The funnel sloped upwards sharply, and was less than two feet long. The space beyond the funnel appeared to be a narrow passage rising but a fraction less sharply than did the funnel.
He ordered a lamp to be brought, and pushed it into the funnel to examine the rock surround. Then he saw faint lines of close cracks, and hope blossomed again.
“Jenks!” he called. “See those cracks?”
“Cracks, all right,” agreed Jenks. “Could try 'em out and might break through. Or another charge might shift some thing. Any cordite left?”
“A little.”
“It's on again. Reach me that hammer and iron.”
“Not now,” Bony said. “No hammering until tonight. Here's the peg. Try levering here and there.”
The peg was blunt, and Bony called for a fresh one, rolling aside to permit Jenks the room he required. He could hear the point of the peg feeling rock, and now and then Jenks grunted.
“Might shift something with about two taps of the hammer,” Jenks said, and again was told to wait.
Bony sat up, to encounter the gaze of the circle of spectators.
“Go to the hall. Sing. Sing anything, but sing, and keep on singing. Beat time, mark time, to make a row. But keep it going.”
With âparty' enthusiasm, tin plates were beaten and Myra Thomas began singing âLong, Long Trail'. Bony was astonished by the quality of her voice, and soon other voices joined in.
“Go to it, Jenks,” he said, presenting the sailor with the hammer.
Even thus close to the impact of the hammer, the sound was negligible. Bony could do nothing to help Jenks and the waiting gave him opportunity to plan the next move, could the opening be enlarged.
âLong Trail' became the âBells of St. Mary' and the âBells' changed to the chant of âThree Blind Mice'.
“A bit's givin',” gasped Jenks. A move of position, the passing of a naked forearm across a bristly face, further effort. Then came a sound not of the hammer, a significant sound, and Jenks withdrew to examine the funnel by the light held by Bony.
“Might bring down a ton or two of the ruddy wall. I know. Get us a line I can fix to the peg and then we'll haul when standin' well away.”
The released Murderers' Institute Singers were back on the âTrail' when Bony crossed the hall to his gear. With hands and head he encouraged them to continue, and with greater vigour. Jenks found slight difficulty in attaching the line to the peg to give a degree of leverage. He grunted and swore, and grinned when they edged back towards the entrance of the hall. He spat on his hands, gripped the line, nodded to Bony who pressed behind him, and slowly they hauled.
They could feel the peg moving. Against the distant light they saw the shape of the funnel altering ... to become static again. They tried again with a fresh peg, the first bent and useless. And then there came a low grinding sound, and abruptly the shape of the funnel altered again. The funnel had become a tunnel.
“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 openingâbackward 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! You gotta a ruddy gun? Caw! I wasn't goin' 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.
“I am 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. “I am 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 her cheek, 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.”
Chapter Nineteen
AT breakfast 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 âroom'.
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 bitâespecially 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,
à 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 followedâthe 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 'em for 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.
The sun-shaft gleamed redly on the wall of the circular hall, when Bony asked Havant to accompany him that he might do certain work after the party had left. Taking Havant to the exit, he spoke softly.
“There, beyond that mask of bush, is what might give you rebirth. Can you deny yourself that chance?”
“Quite, Inspector.”
“Then I must accept your decision. After we leave, will you block this exit tightly with rubble for several feet inward, to prevent its chance discovery.”
“It will provide a task. I will do that.”
“Record the days with a mark on rock,” advised Bony. “Shall I insist that Maddoch remain with you?”
“No. But I think Maddoch should stay for his own good, if the conditions are as you have pictured them.”
“I haven't exaggerated. With luck all should endure the physical strain. It is the mental angle which gives me no little concern. I believe that Maddoch will stand up to the mental stress as well as Jenks or Brennan, even the woman. However, I'll talk to Maddoch again.”
They were silent for a space, when Bony said:
“What do you intend doing when you return to normal life?”
“Oh!” softly exclaimed Havant, as though the question surprised him. “I have a small grazing property in the southern Riverina. It's been managed for me during my absence, and I was to go there following my release. The authorities will, I assume, insist that I comply with the conditions set down by them.”
“Perhaps the authorities will not insist,” Bony said. “I shall leave nothing undone to convince them of your services to the unfortunates imprisoned here with you. Those conditions could be lifted.”
“Could they? Then, I would settle somewhere in North Australia, under another name. I ... er ... am a little nervous of the publicity this affair will create. The abduction of Myra, especially, was too dramatic for her return not to arouse world interest. She is beginning to realise it, too.”
“Every picket in a fence she'll make a winning post, Doctor. I shall see you again within three weeks, and I want you to regard me as a friend on whom you can call for all assistance you may need. That is, if you did not murder Igor Mitski. Did you?”
“No. I'll tell you why I did not. Excepting Maddoch, Mitski was the only cultured man here. Also I am no longer attracted to women physically, and the murder of Mitski was prompted by jealousy. Murder was inevitable. If Mitski hadn't
been killed, another man would have been. If you hadn't come, others would have followed Mitski down Fiddler's Leap. The one thing which saved that woman from her own folly was the number of the lions in the den. Mitski's killer intended to reduce the number to oneâhimself.”
“You could be correct, Doctor. Well, I must return to our final preparations for departure. The sun has set.”
On entering the kitchen, they could hear laughter in the hall. Riddell had commandeered the hair clippers and was close-cropping his whiskers. Jenks was shaving, frowning with concentration, and Maddoch said that they were dressing for the theatre. But all were wearing the blanket boots, and there wasn't an aborigine in Australia who would fail to deduce the purpose of that footwear. Inwardly Bony groaned, for he had told them not to appear in the hall.
“You wouldn't have noticed an aborigine looking down at you?” he asked acidly. “Having been here yesterday, they might well be somewhere else today. We could be lucky. That bread smells good, Myra. And that stew! How is it coming along?”
“Ready when the lads have finished making themselves into film stars.”
Dinner was almost gay, and Bony was glad, and hoped the mood would continue for forty-eight hours, although he knew it would not. Afterwards, Maddoch helped the girl to clear away the utensils, and Riddell carried the empty meat tins and refuse to the dump off the main cavern.
“There are two things I forgot,” Bony said. “A tomahawk and a tin-opener. If we lose the tin-opener, we still have the tomahawk.”
They thought it a great joke, and presently he felt he must hard pedal.
“You know the extent of these caverns,” he said to calm them. “There are other systems adjoining these, making a very large area. Here and there on the Plain are other such areas which are avoided by stock, and at night are dangerous.
You can imagine how easy it would be, in the dark, to step into that opening above us. There are countless crevices and small holes as well, waiting to break a leg, to break a neck.
“We have to walk ten miles before day-break, and it isn't possible to see if the ground underfoot is solid or cavernous. Therefore, we must proceed in single file. I will take the lead, with the dog as additional eyes. I want you to come last, Mark, and constantly check the five walking ahead of you. There is to be no talking once we stand up beyond the exit, because sound carries a long way at night when there's no wind. Repeat, please, Mark.”
Brennan did so.
“If anyone has to speak, it must be as softly as possible. And, most important, if anything is dropped, or if the binding of a blanket shoe comes undone, we must all stop. I've shown you how to carry your blanket roll like the expert. I've shown you, Riddell, how to carry that water drum. So.... No talking. No sound for this first night. No striking of matches.”
Daylight departed never so slowly as on this long long evening.
“There should be a moon until one o'clock,” Bony remarked, and the sky was clear and beckoning. Finally it was now, that Bony said:
“We'll go. Jenks, you follow me; Doctor, bring the hammer and the peg with it.
They wormed through the hole in the kitchen wall, and when they came to the pinch, Jenks was told to widen it. It proved to be even less arduous than Bony had anticipated. He turned to Havant.
“Well, Doctor, this is where we part for a few days. Hold the fort. Move around. Light the lamps as usual. If those jailers come one night with supplies or another prisoner, you will need your wits. Stall if possible. If we're not tracked and brought back within four or five days, you may be sure of eventual rescue.
Au revoir!”
They shook hands. Maddoch did so, then Brennan. The girl said:
“Be seeing you, Doctorâunprofessionally.” She pressed Havant's hesitant hand, and Riddell mumbled something about having a drink together. Jenks grinned, nodded.
The cool, star-studded night illumined by the moon accepted them one by one, and it was like the return to Mother Earth from a distant dead planet. The Plain was filled with scents especially for them.
Bony, who had been quick to take Lucy into his arms that her tracks would not give a clue, counted them. He moved back and they formed into a line, tall Brennan at the end. By their shapes he knew they were burdened as he had so carefully equipped them.
When they set out, the moon was nearing the zenith and the shadows were short. Lucy wanted to be put down, and he had to cuff her because her struggling body prevented him from seeing where to place his feet.
His mind was thus fully occupied. Those following had not to watch where to walk, save close behind the figure ahead. This world was outside their experience, even beyond their imagination. This world had no limits, no landmarks, no features to attract the eye, nothing save the moon high above, distant and cold.
At first all was fairyland, enchantment, but soon it palled by its immobility, for nothing seemed to move, even themselves, who lifted one foot and thrust it forward, and then the other to thrust it farther still. Presently the effort to walk seemed pointless, save only to keep up with the figure ahead, and why that should be necessary became pointless, too.
Bony carried the dog for the first two miles before putting her down and trusting to chance that the aborigines would not cut her tracks. For him the going was much easier, and the dog on the leash added confidence to his feet.
There is nothing worse than walking without mental distraction, and this the old timers knew when they invented the treadmill.
Twice they rested for fifteen minutes before the moon went down. After that, muscular effort, without result, was still worse. With the moon above, they had seen the shadowing shrubs sliding past their feet.
They did not approach the great wall: it rose before them to tower above and blot out half the stars. It ruled each man's mind.
No! To climb that cliff now ... no, no.
Bony said, reassuringly:
“Made only of straw. We have to plough through to the far side, and there we can dare to make a fire and brew tea, and afterwards to rest for a few hours. The dawn will come soon, and we have walked at least nine miles.”