by Tony Parsons
‘I know what you mean,’ I said. ‘If I could do anything I wanted I’d buy a property with a long, meandering tree-lined creek running through it where cattle could lie in the shade and chew their cuds while they stack on the beef. I sometimes dream about living in a homestead with big wide verandahs like the one I grew up in, though I didn’t think I’d ever be able to afford anything as lavish as it. I loved growing up on a property and I want any kids I might have to enjoy the same sort of upbringing, with lots of open spaces to explore and ponies to ride, and a feel for the changing seasons.’
‘How will you get on if your wife doesn’t want to live in the bush?’ she asked.
‘Now that I’m older and wiser I think it’s important for husbands and wives to share dreams so I probably wouldn’t have a relationship with someone who wasn’t interested in ever moving to the country. I don’t know if your Uncle Dick told you, but my ex-wife, Fiona, turned out to be a real city girl with no interest in moving back to the country. She loved being a doctor but she had no desire to have a practice in a country town,’ I said.
‘If I loved a man enough to marry him I’d like it to be a lifetime commitment,’ she said. ‘I think a marriage break-up is very unfair on children.’
‘Very unfair,’ I agreed. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
She shook her head. ‘Not at the moment.’
‘Where did you grow up?’ I asked.
‘We had a place in the Monaro. Mum was mad about horses and we spent hours riding together. She had a freak accident while she was riding one day and died instantly. Dad started to drink too much after that and was DUI when he was killed in a car accident,’ she said. ‘Uncle Dick became my guardian after Dad’s death and he and Aunty Gaye were great to me. Despite the way Mum died, Uncle Dick encouraged me to keep riding because he thought it was important. They used to take me back to the Monaro for my holidays and I still love it there.’
We talked for a while about the different country areas we both liked and then Gaye said she was tired. I suggested she have the first sleep while I kept a lookout for any visitors. She agreed but insisted I wake her at 2 so I could get some sleep too. She then helped me to rig up a fishing line with some tins so we could yank it to wake each other up if anyone appeared. The whole contraption was virtually invisible by torchlight and we could roll it up in the morning. It wasn’t full moonlight, maybe three parts full, so if anyone came in off the road I could get behind them quite easily from the hide.
CHAPTER 18
Apart from the koalas and the mopoke, it was a very quiet night, the only sound from beyond the ridge the soft putt-putt of a generator. Clearly, bulk electricity hadn’t been laid on to this section of the scrub so all the farms here would be dependent on generators.
At 2 a.m. Gaye took over the hide and I lay down and got to sleep very quickly.
I woke early and Gaye and I carted all the gear back to the vehicle, then rolled up the fishing line and hid it and the empty tins under a shrub. There was plenty of firewood close by and I soon had a fire going and the billy bubbling. We were just finishing our breakfast when a pair of Red-tailed Black Cockatoos alighted on the top of one of the scribbly gums.
Rushing to the hide, I adjusted the tripod and focused on the two cockies. They were a pair because the female cockie had orange-yellow tail feathers rather than the red of the male. I got out one of my bird books and did a bit of study on the various cockatoos and on some of the other birds of the Pilliga area.
‘What’s the plan for the day?’ Gaye asked.
‘If the blokes over that ridge respond to our smoke we’ll have visitors down here this morning. They’ll give us the once over and decide whether we’re genuine campers or not. Judging by the ashes, there’ve been other campers here quite recently so we shouldn’t come across as suspicious,’ I said.
‘What then?’ Gaye asked.
‘If I sight them peeking at us from the ridge I’ll ask you to change into your bikini outfit and have a splash in the pool. I’ll take a couple of pictures of you and then I’ll pick you up and take you across to the tent. That ought to convince them we’re genuine partners. When they’ve gone and after we’ve had a quick lunch, I’ll head out for the top of the ridge and see if I can sight Caroline. You’ll have to mind the camp while I’m gone. That’s what I’ve got in mind if everything falls into place. Does that all sound alright to you?’ I asked.
‘I’d prefer to go with you to the ridge. Two people are better than one in an emergency,’ Gaye said.
‘It wouldn’t be a good idea to leave this camp unattended and I couldn’t risk sending you alone into uncharted waters, so to speak. Ballinger would have my guts for garters. If Caroline Clemenger is over that ridge you’ll get your chance tomorrow,’ I said.
I threw a couple more leafy green branches on the fire and watched as the dark smoke climbed skyward in the still air. It was time we smoked out the blokes over the ridge.
We sat at the table and talked for a few minutes and then Gaye washed some clothes and hung them on the makeshift clothesline to add a touch of domesticity.
‘Got your weapon in place?’ I asked Gaye.
‘Yes, hon,’ she said with a grin on her face.
‘It might be an idea for you to sit at the table and look at some of those magazines you bought and I’ll keep a watch from the hide. I might be able to sneak in a bird pic or two while I’m there.’
While Gaye sat and pretended to read magazines, I continued to watch the ridge through the state-of-the-art binoculars Eunice Kendall had provided. Sure enough, shortly after 10 a.m. two men appeared on the ridge, one carrying a rifle, the other binoculars.
My heart thumped. This was it. I walked over and hugged Gaye, whispering to her about the two blokes and said, ‘Can you please go to the tent and get your towel, then take it across to the hide, wrap my binoculars in it, take them back to the tent and then bring yourself and the towel back here. Saunter, Gaye, saunter. Just do it naturally. Don’t hurry.’
I went to the vehicle and got out my oldest Nikon with standard lens and hung it around my neck. Then I put on a green, peaked cap and strolled back to the table. Gaye walked back to me carrying her towel and looking tense but resolved. The next few minutes would be critical. If the watchers on the ridge could be convinced that Gaye and me were a dinky di pair of lovers and were content to leave us alone, I could scout off and look for Caroline Clemenger.
‘What now, Lachie?’ she asked.
‘I want you to change into your bikini and then run out into the pool and have a good old splash. I’ll take a couple of pics of you before you walk out of the pool. I’ll throw you your towel so you can dry yourself. Then I’ll pick you up and carry you across to the tent. Act naturally, Gaye,’ I said as calmly as I could manage.
A vision in a yellow bikini ran past me and plunged into the rock pool then swam around for several minutes before she emerged and posed for me.
‘You’ve done well, Gaye,’ I whispered in her ear before lifting her up in a very boyfriend-like way and carrying her across to the tent and going in with her as if to have some nooky.
‘You know what they’ll be thinking, don’t you?’ she asked.
‘That’s what I want them to think. Sorry, but it’s an integral part of the plan. Quick, hand me the binoculars,’ I said.
I focused the binoculars on the ridge while behind me Gaye divested herself of her bikini and changed back into her shorts and halter top. Only the bloke with the binoculars was there now.
‘We’ll have to wait here a while to make it thoroughly convincing,’ I told her.
When I next looked up at the ridge the skyline was bare. ‘I think we’ve fooled them,’ I said. ‘I wonder how long we’ll have to wait for our first visitors,’ I said and glanced down at my wrist watch. ‘I reckon about an hour.’
When we emerged from the tent a few minutes later the day seemed suddenly brighter. ‘Let’s get this set up. I’ll go and get the billy bo
iling. You put on your sunglasses and hat and sit at the table again. When you talk to me don’t forget to lay it on a bit. And move your chair so it and you are facing the road. I’ll be in the hide pretending to take pictures when they come so call me,’ I told her.
She nodded and then proceeded to do all the things I’d asked of her.
Within half an hour we heard a vehicle coming down the road from over the ridge and I disappeared into the hide. Gaye sat at the table leafing through a magazine, looking up nonchalantly when the old cream Holden utility pulled up close to my four-wheel drive. Two blokes got out of the ute and I reckoned they were the same two I’d watched on the ridge. They were very alike and they were both wearing rough bush clothes and old, wide-brimmed hats.
‘Hello there,’ Gaye greeted them. ‘Darling, we’ve got visitors. Imagine that, all the way out here.’
I crawled out of the hide with a big friendly smile on my face, my old Nikon slung about my neck.
‘G’day,’ I greeted them. ‘Amazing place for taking pics of the local wildlife. You live around here?’
‘Yep,’ said one of them. ‘I’m Ted Challis and this is me brother, Jack. Our family live in a place over that ridge.’
I shook hands with them. ‘Laurie Rivers, and this is my partner, Gaye. Got a place, eh? What do you run, Ted?’ I asked.
‘Cattle mostly. We tried sheep but they didn’t do well here,’ Ted answered.
The brothers Challis were men of medium height with mid-brown hair
‘We’re not on your land, are we? The tourist people in Coonabarabran told us this was a national parks reserve,’ I said.
‘It is until you come to a gate and fence up the road a bit,’ Jack Challis said.
‘If you’re locals, maybe you can help me. I’m looking for black cockatoos, the ones with the red tails . . . these fellows,’ I said and shoved my bird book across the table towards him. ‘You see any of these around here?’
‘Nah. You’d want to try the river country for them. I’ve never seen any here,’ he said.
‘That’s a shame. The tourist people told me they thought I’d have a good chance of seeing some along this creek,’ I said.
‘Nup, don’t think so,’ said Jack. ‘How long are ya stayin’.’
‘We might give it another day. Probably pull up stakes tomorrow. There’s koalas here and plenty of other birds. Koala pics are always good value so it won’t be a wasted trip. We’ll move on then and try a couple of other spots,’ I said.
‘What’s that?’ Ted asked and pointed to the hide.
‘It’s a hide. Nearly all wildlife photographers use a hide. It allows you to get much closer to both birds and animals. Most birds are small and even with a big telephoto lens, you shouldn’t be too far away to get good pictures,’ I explained. ‘Want a cuppa?’ I asked.
‘Nah, we better be gettin’ back. Got things to do. You’ve got to watch out for fires around here. Some campers are bloody careless and these pines explode like bombs,’ said Ted.
‘Nice job. Take you anywhere,’ said Ted gesturing towards my four-wheel drive as he and his brother walked back to their ute.
‘Yeah, it’s a real beauty’, I said.
Gaye and I waved them a goodbye as Ted turned the vehicle and drove back up the hill.
Once they’d disappeared completely Gaye bent over the table in hysterics. ‘Oh, Lachie, that was priceless. You’re a real bullshit artist,’ she gasped between bursts of laughter.
I laughed too and then turned serious.
‘That’s the first lot of callers out of the way. The next lot will be tougher,’ I said. ‘The Challis brothers are only the Indians. They were sent down on a preliminary scouting mission. We may have allayed their suspicions but the real crooks’ll look us over anyway. They’ll probably leave it until tomorrow morning so they don’t look too suspicious but I bet they’ll come over and check out if we’ve headed off. Meanwhile, if you’re agreeable I’ll head off and see how the land lies over that ridge. Those fellows won’t be expecting anyone so soon after their visit.’
Gaye clearly wasn’t happy about staying in the camp. Both her personality and police training meant she’d want to be where the action was – and not only that but she’d already said that two people were better than one if something arose.
‘Look, I understand that you want to come with me and I’d like to take you but it makes better sense for you to stay here so we don’t leave the camp unattended,’ I said. ‘Sling my old camera round your neck and plant yourself in the scrub by the creek. If anyone stops and starts nosing about, walk out of the scrub and ask them what they want. You can say you were photographing koalas.’
‘Okay. Good luck, Lachie,’ she said as I set off.
I didn’t like leaving her because although she was a police officer and armed, it was a potentially dangerous place. But I had to try and work out exactly where Caroline Clemenger was being held. I didn’t want Gaye with me until I was familiar with the set-up over the ridge.
The creek wasn’t much more than knee-deep beside our camp. But after leaving it I plunged into a belt of thick pine forest. It was very quiet in amongst the pines and for a little while there was no vision at all. I cast well out into the pines so that I wouldn’t hit the ridge head-on because my aim was to come out as far as possible from our side of the ridge.
The ridge tapered away at both ends and was really more of a low hill than part of a continuous ridge. The actual area of elevated ridge was only about half a kilometre long.
After I’d been walking for about twenty minutes I hit the creek again, soon after it forked and became two creeks at my end of the ridge. The other end of the ridge finished near the track up to the Brewster and Challis properties. One arm of the creek turned sharply and was running at almost a right angle to me. For about fifty metres on both sides of this arm, the trees had been almost completely cleared. It was like a great open gash against the darkness and the thickness of the pines. The creek was cleared for a distance of about two kilometres and there were black and red cattle grazing along this stretch of cleared country. It would be a great place to dump stolen stock. No doubt there was a set of cattle yards somewhere in there amongst the pines. Any hint of a police raid and someone would slip away and drive the cattle off the cleared creek country and into either the security of the forest or a well hidden set of yards.
The pines thinned out a little near the end of the ridge and I came to a fence that led back into the pines and it was anchored by a massive post that was bolted to the rock wall of the ridge. Then, drilled out of the ridge was a big opening that was supported by steel trusses and blocked by a steel gate disguised by green pine branches. These were probably replaced as they wilted but there was an endless supply of them so that wouldn’t present a problem. On the other side of it was another fence and it was anchored in the same way as the fence on my side. Stolen cattle could easily be trucked up to this disguised gate and liberated into the cleared creek paddock. The left hand fork of the creek turned sharply left and veered away from me in the general direction of where I thought the Challis dwelling would be.
I became ultra cautious now, climbing up the ridge and lying down when I reached the top. When I peeked over I could see our camp and the road that traversed it. The road meandered through the pines like a pinky-yellow snake. There were two houses that I could see. The bottom house, which was the first one you’d pass via the road, was a freshly painted white weatherboard bungalow with a blue galvanised-iron roof. The scrub had been cleared for quite a distance around it. A rather dilapidated timber house was closer to where I was lying, with some ramshackle outbuildings adjacent to it along with the remains of what appeared to have been an old slab hut. There were windmills at both houses, suggesting there wasn’t a big supply of underground water. Cattle grazed across the cleared country, though I doubted these would be stolen. Instead they’d be used as decoys in case of police visits, while they kept any stolen stock back behind
the ridge.
I backed down the ridge and re-entered the scrub on the far side of the old house, proceeding very slowly and carefully now that I was getting closer to what I assumed to be the Challis house. Fortunately, a light breeze was blowing in my face which would be an advantage if the Challises had any dogs. Slipping through the trees, I crouched down when I reached a spot that gave me a good view of the backyard of the house.
My heart thumped when, on using my binoculars, I saw three men standing about a naked and rake-thin Caroline Clemenger. She was alive, which was a relief, but she was clearly not being well treated. She had a kind of manacle and chain attached to her left leg. The end of the chain was being held by Jack Challis while a hose was being directed at her by what looked like old man Challis.
I snapped some photos and retreated into the trees, but kept my eye on what was going on. After a few minutes, Ted Challis threw a towel at Caroline, who was hunched over with cold. She dried herself while the three men kept watch. Then one of the men threw her a dress which she put on quickly. Old man Challis then unclipped the short chain and escorted her to a small timber hut where, from what I could see, a longer chain was attached to the manacle on her leg. I slithered out of the trees briefly and took some shots before the door was closed. I’d located Caroline Clemenger and she was most definitely alive. I determined then and there to rescue her as quickly as possible.
After a while I crept back towards the cover of trees. I didn’t relax my vigilance as I retraced my route through the timber, careful to keep the trunks of the biggest pines between me and the house. It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that someone, maybe even Brewster or Reid, could be on the far end of the ridge keeping an eye on our campsite.
When I drew closer to our camp I walked out in a big loop and crossed the creek a couple of hundred metres below it. If there was anything amiss I wanted plenty of elbow room to deal with it.