by Margaret Way
She gave a soft, breathy laugh. "How extraordinary! Praise be there weren't any crocs in our beautiful lagoon. We could have been death rolled."
His voice was dry. "I hate to tell you this, my beautiful Samantha, but saltwater crocs can and do live in fresh water."
"You're joking!" She spun around to face him, meeting his gleaming, teasing eyes.
"Never! It's a myth saltwater crocs are only at home in salt water. There have been many many sightings in fresh water. A lone croc will stake out a lagoon or a billabong for himself at the end of the wet season especially if it has a good supply of barramundi and God help any young male croc who tries to come into the marked territory."
"You're not telling me there could have been a croc at the falls?"
"Would I put the woman I'm crazy about in danger?" He slid his hands around her waist, drawing her back against him.
"Ross..." she murmured.
"It's like a fever isn't it?" he said, his chin resting on her hair. "I want you so badly I'd take on six crocs. I have to find a time we can be together, even if it's only to kiss you. But first we have to lose your boyfriend," he tacked on sardonically.
"It'll be a challenge!" Her eyes moved to the front of the boat. Everyone else was preoccupied, but Matt, was staring their way, his expression masked by the deep brim of his hat.
A trickle like an icicle slid down Samantha's back. This was getting to be ridiculous. Anyone would think Matt was a rejected long time lover instead of a friend she had shared casual outings with. Why hadn't she taken note of this infatuation sooner? Like a blind fool she had drifted thoughtlessly into the path of trouble. She had no wish to hurt him.
Ross, his back to the other man, missed Matt's concentrated stare entirely. It might have made him call something challenging back. Samantha was all for avoiding confrontations.
In the heat of midafternoon, when the crocodiles indulged their love of a snooze on the banks, the skipper of their charter boat, a wiry little man nicknamed "Goldy" because he had once mined a fair sized nugget on the Queensland goldfields, pulled alongside a timber jetty that looked like it would collapse as soon as the next strong breeze hit it. Ross sprang out of the boat with the rope to tie the motor launch up. Large patches of spiked rushes grew around the bleached grey-white of the splayed jetty legs, the golden tips waving with the motion of the wavelets caused by the wake of the boat.
"All right, ladies and gentleman," Goldy announced, standing on the salt stained deck, feet apart, hands behind his back. "I'll be here, drinkin' until around five-thirty at which time I'd like to depart. Which reminds me, Rossie, darlin'. Didn't yah tell me you'd have a bottle of whiskey for me next time you saw me?"
"A promise is a promise, Goldy," Ross called from the jetty. "I'll give it to you before we leave. No use looking for it either."
"Spoil sport!" Goldy grinned. "Watch where yah put your feet now. See yah all later."
The picturesque pandanus leaned at extraordinary angles the cause of which was the prevailing winds. They stood out black in silhouette against the dazzle of light from the sun and the white sandy beach which was ringed heavily with dark green vegetation overhung by the lacy canopy of trees.
On their trek through the trees the women were flanked by Ross and David, while Joe and Matt brought up the rear. Joe's trained eyes moved everywhere. Along the ground and through the foliage checking out the possible presence of snakes not that they weren't more frightened of humans than humans were of them. But here beside the river, the vegetation was more markedly tropical. The eucalypts that were dominant in the woodlands gave way to cottonwoods and myrtles that soared a hundred feet and more. Great buttress roots impeded their progress, the whole area covered with lichen, mosses, ferns and vines.
They had travelled some distance before they came on a welcome clearing where great banyan trees whose massive bulk could withstand the fiercest monsoon spread their giant arms over a wide area offering shade and a good camp site.
Samantha gave a little exclamation of pleasure. "Aren't they magnificent?"
"According to my people, the Gunwinggu, our `mother' Waramurungundji created the banyan tree at the very beginning of Creation." Joe supporting himself with a stout branch spoke up. "Our legendary ancestors came from across the sea by canoe from maybe the direction of Indonesia," Joe continued, knowing how eagerly this young white woman received and soaked up the legends and oral traditions of his tribe.
"Hasn't science arrived at similar conclusions," David asked.
Joe grunted wryly. "When Moses led his people out of Egypt, my people had been occupying this region of the Alligator Rivers for more than twenty thousand continuous years. We are the first Australians."
"No argument there, Joe." Ross turned his head over his shoulder. "Tell Samantha about the adventures of Waramurungundji's husband."
"How I like the way you roll that off your tongue." Samantha was impressed. Some aboriginal names were very difficult. "She had a husband?"
"Wuragag." Joe nodded. "But she wasn't his only wife. He had many wives, wicked old man. Many adventures. At the end of his earthly life he was turned into a high rocky hill which you will see sometime soon. It dominates the plains north of Oenpelli. A lot of white people call it Tor Rock. We call it Wuragag. There's a smaller rock beside it that's his favourite young wife, Goringal: '
"And the Oenpelli region is where we'll find much of your great aboriginal artistic heritage, Joe?" Samantha asked.
"Our major heritage," Joe answered. "Arnhem Land is very rich in our culture. It houses outstanding rock galleries of great antiquity."
"And we have you to interpret them for us, Joe," Samantha smiled back at him, receiving a beaming acknowledgment in return.
Many hundreds of feet of film had already been shot and packed up ready for processing in Darwin. Almost as many more shots on the digital camera had been printed off allowing them all to see work in progress; David's powerful and often moving evocations of a unique region. The rain forests, wetlands and woodlands, its remarkable flora and fauna, the magnificent bird life, the innumerable species of water birds alighting on lily covered lagoons, the brilliantly coloured parrots and parakeets with their long green and blue tail feathers, the honey eaters, the colourful Gouldian finches, the blue winged kookaburras and the sacred kingfishers, as well as the birds of prey, the eagles, falcons and the osprey.
Today was the crocodile's turn. Ross carried the rifle as a necessary precaution, Joe had a lethal looking hunting knife thrust through his belt. Even Isabelle in safari gear like Samantha had some sort of knife in a sheaf strapped to the tan leather belt around her waist Samantha noted without surprise. Isabelle who was as elegant as any top fashion model was equally at home in this wild bush setting. But then she had been born to it.
"So what's the plan? Where are we going?" Samantha asked, her face vivid with excitement.
Ross shook his head gently. "Not you, Samantha. Not this time."
She came back to earth with a great thud. "What do you mean? Isabelle's going."
"Belle has offered to stay." Ross turned his head briefly to where Isabelle was passing some piece of equipment to David. "She's made countless forays into the bush in the past. Dad and often Joe used to take us from when we were children. She's had a lifetime of experience. You haven't."
"So I'm disqualified on that count?" She looked at him, temper ignited by deep disappointment.
"Don't take it like that." He gave her the sudden smile that so illuminated his face. "The very last thing I want is to put you in any danger. It's obvious the crocs freak you out and David wants to film their nests."
"He must be mad," she said, fuming at being excluded. "I might have a word with him."
Ross shook his head. "It would do no good. We've discussed it. Neither of us wants to risk taking you. You're very precious."
"Precious be damned!" She stared up at him, more affected than she should have been. "You're fobbing me off. You never wanted me h
ere in the first place."
"Ah, Sam," he groaned.
"Don't `Sam' me," she said, flushed and hurt. "It is your name. I don't think I've heard David call you Samantha once."
"David's my brother. You've had this whole thing planned. You knew on the boat, yet you never told me."
"Hang on," he said firmly. "I should have known you'd have quite a temper." Her hair in fact was a fiery corona in the sunlight. "You've been in on just about everything. This particular trip has been ruled out for a very good reason. For one thing we'll be moving with the utmost caution. Crocs take great exception to anyone approaching the nest. A goanna frightened the living daylights out of you. I can't risk your letting out a scream if you spotted a python, a feral pig or even another perentie. There are plenty of them about. You just don't see them for much of the time. It would be risky to even make a peep where we're going."
"You're making out I'm an absolute idiot."
She went from fire to ice very quickly. "No such thing. All I'm saying is, you're inexperienced in the bush especially in this kind of situation. Think about it, Samantha."
"But I want to go," she insisted, not yet able to control her disappointment.
"You're not going and that's the end of it," he said firmly. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. If it's any comfort, we won't be gone long. You can be sure of that. David will have to work very quickly in a dangerous situation but he's well used to that."
She blinked back hot tears, embarrassed they were there. "And just what am I supposed to do while the rest of you have gone adventuring? Sit under the banyan tree and sing calypso songs."
"Why not?" he asked with humour. "I've heard you sing. In fact I'll never forget it. You have the sweetest voice."
"I'll stay right back." She tried a last time, fixing her eyes on his face.
"No. You're too used to getting your own way. This one expedition has been judged too dangerous. Please don't take it personally."
It was hard to realise this was the man she loved! "Well I am taking it personally," she announced, the knot in her stomach working its way up into her throat. "You're such a hero you could carry me on your shoulders."
He studied her with his startling eyes. "You'll have to get your weight down by at least twenty kilos."
She was shocked into incoherence. "Whh-aa-t?"
A smile curved his lips. "A joke, Samantha."
"Well it hasn't cheered me up." Her shoulders slumped. "All right go off and leave me."
"Don't sulk. I only want the best for you."
"Now isn't that fine and dandy. For your information I am not sulking. I am hurt and disappointed. Some days, Ross Sunderland, you remind me of a really big bully."
"When I'm trying to look after you? Have a heart!"
Isabelle who had been watching this mild confrontation and knowing what it was all about, crossed the clearing to join them. "You're disappointed, Sam?"
Samantha tried to rally but found she couldn't. "Well I'd planned on coming, Belle."
Isabelle touched her hand consolingly. "I've been on these trips before. They can get scary, I promise you. No one is doubting you're game for anything but something might cross our path to give you a fright. No one could blame you if you cried out."
"You wouldn't react?" Samantha asked, trying to see it through Isabelle's eyes.
Ross cut her short. "No she wouldn't Samantha. Accept that."
"Anyway I'm staying with you." Isabelle made the swift decision.
Matt who had been eavesdropping all the while saw his golden opportunity. Oh my, oh my, to get Sam on her own! Wasn't this what he'd been waiting for? He straightened his shoulders, put a winning smile on his face and wandered up to join them. "Did I hear you offer to stay with Sam, Isabelle?" he asked, refinding his old charm.
"Really I'll be quite all right on my own," Samantha protested, knowing Isabelle was only being kind. She really wanted to go.
"You don't have to be," Matt was the picture of supportiveness. "David doesn't need me right now I'm relieved to say, so I'm free to keep you company."
A slight frown crossed Ross's face. "That's nice of you, Matt, but Belle doesn't mind."
To pique him Samantha succeeded in hiding her true feelings. "I don't want Isabelle to miss out on account of me," she said.
"I'm not that keen to go, Sam," Isabelle assured her, wary of the way Matt could change his persona in the blink of an eye. Hadn't she seen it all before?
"What's the problem?" Matt turned up his palms, looking innocently around the group. "Sam and I have shared many a pleasant hour. We're used to being together. We can settle back and relax while the rest of you go in search of where the crocodile makes his nest. As far as I'm concerned it's healthier here."
"So that's settled," Samantha said, making a great effort to appear bright and accepting and actually achieving that end. "Matt and I will remain here until you get back."
David who had finished assembling his equipment came their way. "I know it's not what you want, Sam, but I'd feel much happier if you stayed in camp. Isabelle has agreed to keep you company."
"There's been a change of plan," Samantha gave him an easy smile. "Belle's going. I know she wants to. Matt has kindly offered to stay with me."
Something flickered in David's golden eyes. "Who decided this?"
"I did," Samantha lied smoothly before Ross was allowed to break. "You'll only be gone an hour or two. Matt and I can do our own exploring."
"I'd rather you didn't," Ross clipped off.
"It would be best, Samantha," Isabelle offered, more gently.
"We'll be quite happy here," Matt intervened, his expression suggesting he thoroughly agreed with Ross and Isabelle. "A couple of hours will pass in no time at all."
"Better them than us," Matt said. The hunting party had long gone and they had finished exploring their immediate environment without venturing too far. "Crocodiles are too gruesome for words."
"I just hope one of them doesn't decide to go walkabout while their mates are asleep," Samantha said, moving over to the shade of a mighty banyan. It had a great central section of some hundred of trunks and scores of small trunks slender as saplings ringing the perimeter of the trees' branches where the birds had dropped the seeds and the sprouting seeds had taken root.
"Isn't this a fantastic tree," she said, not much liking being stuck with Matt but determined to make the best of it. These days he seemed to be two people. The old Matt she thought she knew and the other Matt, a far less pleasant character.
Matt looked up just as the fig like fruit of the banyan dropped to the ground. "Indian, aren't they? I remember a photograph Dave took of one in Sri Lanka. I wouldn't worry too much about crocs going walkabout around here. At least Macho Man knows what he's about. He's bound to have picked the right time and the place to find a nest or two." Matt lowered himself to the sand beside her, thrilled they were on their own at last with no one to disturb them. "I can't imagine why you wanted to go, Sam or Isabelle for that matter although Dave's the big attraction, not the crocs. For some reason she's trying to get her hooks into him."
"And it only took you a half a second to figure it out?" she said in a voice that should have warned him.
"Pretty much." He chewed on the side of his thumb. "I saw how she was with him that first night at the showing. People pressing in on all sides wanting to talk to him but she managed to find his ear."
"I'm not surprised. Isabelle is a very beautiful woman. Men tend to seek out beautiful women. Bachelor that he is, my brother is very susceptible to beauty."
"Well he's bending double to please her." Matt grunted, not bothering to hide his disapproval.
"Why don't you like her, Matt? You're so ready to condemn her when she's so charming and understanding."
"She has a history, Sam, remember?" He unsheafed his expensive sunglasses and shoved them
on his nose. "Consider the events of her life. The lead up-the broken home. Mother going off. Inevitably that
sort of thing has its effect. Hence, the bad marriage. You know the old saying there's no smoke without fire. I don't want to bring this up again, but I think you should be concerned. I know how much you love Dave. You wouldn't want to see him hooked by a woman like that. Women who chew a man up and spit him out."
"That, actually, is your very jaundiced opinion. Are you sure you're not referring to something in your past?"
"My past was quite ordinary," he lied. His parents had been too busy battling each other to bother about him. But he had survived them both.