“Sure. I know these mountains like the back of me hand. I’ve been walking them since I was a boy.”
Peter felt very uneasy about handing the map and his compass to Stephen, but could not see any other option.
“We could make a copy of the map,” Joy suggested.
“Take all bloody day!” Stephen objected.
But Graham nodded. “Just the main features,” he said. “Come on, give it to me. I’ll do it.”
He took the map and a sheet of paper from the bundle of captured documents. Using his pencil he quickly traced the main features and the key grid intersectors.
While he worked Peter heard a vehicle engine. It sounded a long way off and died down. Then it came again, louder.
“Someone coming.”
They crouched in the grass and peered out. The vehicle came from the North West along the track. Peter got only a quick glimpse of it through the trees. It was dark green. From the sound it turned left at the main road and headed towards the yards.
“The fat will be in the fire now! We’d better get moving,” he said. “Grab your gear and let’s move.”
Graham jerked his thumb at the four prisoners. “What about them? They will see which way we go.”
“Deception plan then. Do a fishhook and head the way you want to go after we are out of sight. Let’s get them gagged fast so we can move,” Peter replied.
The four prisoners objected but this was ignored. Their legs were tied as well as their hands, using strong nylon cord the cadets all carried. Gags were inserted. Peter looked around to check they were ready. He saw that Joy had swung the radio on and was adjusting the headset. She had her notebook in hand.
“Turn the volume down on that radio if you can,” he said.
Joy nodded. “I already have.”
“Good girl. Let’s go.”
Peter led the way east back towards the road. When he was sure they were no longer visible to the three men he stopped and pointed south. “Here’s the sketch map. Off you go Steve. We will circle back the other way.”
“What time do you expect to get to the Old Dam area?” Stephen asked.
“About four or five this afternoon,” Peter replied. “Good luck.”
Stephen sniffed. “Oh I don’t know. I prefer to depend on skill,” he replied.
The old joke raised a smile. The two groups separated. Within a few minutes they were out of sight of each other. Peter angled left until he came to the vehicle track near the junction with the main forest road. He crossed the track and circled back through the open bush till he was well past the place where they had left the track, then stopped.
“OK, we should have broken any trail for a while. Which way… er… Ned?”
Ned looked around at the forest. It was fairly open there, large trees with waist high grass and clumps of lantana. He shook his head. “Not sure.”
“But you said you knew these mountains like the back of your hand!” Peter said.
“Well, I do, but only when I know what road or creek I’m on,” Old Ned replied.
Peter suppressed his annoyance. “It will be dangerous walking along the roads,” he said. Already he was regretting not having the map.
Graham stepped forward. “Can’t be helped. I will go on ahead as scout, as long as Ned here can point me the right way.”
That was the best they could do. Peter did not like it but equally did not want to still be blundering about the forest when it got dark. He nodded and Graham set off at a brisk walk, M16 at the ready. As soon as he was fifty paces ahead Peter followed. Graham walked through the long grass and, with an instinct for direction and ground that Peter always marvelled at, led them back to the track after half a kilometre.
That was on a down slope into a wooded valley. They walked quickly, only stopping when Graham did. He stayed well out in front, often out of sight. Joy followed Peter, then Old Ned and Sir Miles. It was easy walking, the track being two well worn wheel ruts.
At 1130 they came to a fair sized stream which was flowing with clear water over rocks. It was only ten paces wide and ankle deep. Graham was waiting for them. He was busy filling his water bottles. “Fill your water bottles,” he said.
Peter nodded and told Joy to act as sentry watching the rear while they took turns to do this. Graham replaced his water bottles, drank deep and washed his face, then grinned and hefted his rifle to the ready and set off up the slope beyond.
Joy watched him. “Like a pig in mud,” she muttered.
“What?” Peter asked as he knelt to fill a water bottle.
“Graham. He thinks this is just the bee’s knees. He is enjoying every minute of it,” Joy commented.
Peter nodded. “He is a great guy to have around at a time like this,” he replied.
“I hope Stephen and Megan are alright,” Joy said.
“They will be. They will probably arrive at the Old Dam before we do,” Peter replied. He rinsed his mouth and splashed water over his head and arms. It was delightful relief. He then took over watching the rear while Joy filled her water bottles.
After a couple of minutes they continued on. The track wound on up the hill, curving right to head northwards up a long ridge. This was fairly open: large trees and grass without much undergrowth. It was easy to walk through but did not offer much cover when moving. Peter estimated he could see for up to two hundred metres at a time, which was a worry.
The ridge went slowly up for half a kilometre. The group stopped several times to get their breath back. All began to perspire and pant. Old Ned in particular looked quite puffed.
That’s a worry, Peter thought. I hope he doesn’t break down in the mountains.
They saw no sign of Graham until near the top of the ridge. He suddenly appeared from behind a tree, finger to his lips. “There is a road junction up ahead. I can’t see anyone but I think it is the place nicknamed ‘Jericho’ so we need to be careful.”
Graham led them forward to the road junction. It was at a sharp right angled bend in a graded gravel road, one part going west and the other north. Beyond the road the ridge sloped slowly on upwards but the vegetation changed to larger trees and a thicker undergrowth of bushes and ferns among the grass.
“Which way?” Peter asked, as Old Ned puffed up to join him.
Ned looked around and hen nodded. “Oh, I know where I am now,” he said happily. “If we go that way we come out at Wondecla.” He pointed west.
“Which way to the Old Dam?” Graham asked.
“Oh, the other way,” Old Ned replied. He screwed up his eyes and squinted up into the tree. “Some real good orchids around here.”
“Isn’t it a State Forest?” Joy asked.
“Er.. yes,” Old Ned replied, clearly embarrassed.
Graham made a face. “Thou shalt not steal eh?” he said. With a chuckle he turned and loped off along the road to the north. Peter let him get out of sight before following.
The road went up and down over small ridges along the side of a forested slope for over a kilometre. It was easy walking most of the time. The main concern Peter had was the openness of the road compared to the bush on either side. On their right the undergrowth and forest thickened up to a real tangle, and then to rainforest. There was a creek there but he could not see it.
Graham was waiting for them at the edge of a clearing. “The road ends here,” he said. He pointed to where an overgrown road vanished into a thick wall of rain forest. A rough vehicle track went off to the right, running steeply down to the creek and up the hill on the other side.
“Which way Ned?” Peter asked.
“That way,” Ned replied, pointing along the vehicle track.
“But that is heading back towards the east,” Graham objected. “This overgrown road is the one shown on the map as going to the Old Dam area.”
“It is all overgrown,” Old Ned replied. “Hasn’t been used for donkey’s years.
This track cuts across to link up with the other road what comes up the mo
untain from East Barron.”
“You sure?” Graham asked. He studied his rough tracing. “It will add a few kilometres to our walk.”
“’Course I’m sure,” Old Ned replied indignantly. “We was up here only a month ago, come up that other road we did, followin’ them red arrows. They are the pony club riding trail.”
Graham did not look happy but led the way down to the creek. Carefully they stepped across from stone to stone just upstream of the vehicle crossing point.
Peter studied the ground. “Been a vehicle across here not long ago,” he said, indicating muddy wheel tracks going up the slope.
“Going our way too,” Graham agreed. He shrugged, then strode on ahead. Peter followed at a slower pace, dictated as much by Old Ned’s wheezing as by patrolling tactics.
The vehicle track, just two wheel tracks in waist high grass, wound uphill through open forest. This had plenty of trees but no undergrowth to speak f so he could see for hundreds of metres. The track wound to the left around the side of a steep, grassy hill, undulating over several small dips. These were steep enough to get them puffing and to raise a sweat.
A wall of dark jungle rose ahead of them. The track turned abruptly right beside it and went uphill, running close beside the trees. An open hill on the right offered no cover and no escape. Peter felt quite uneasy.
Good spot for an ambush! he thought.
At that moment Graham was just visible slogging up a steep grassy slope ahead of them. Suddenly he stopped and turned. His arm waved. Peter felt as though he had been doused in cold water. “Take cover,” he said, indicating the jungle beside them. He saw Graham vanish into some bushes at the top of the slope.T hey pushed into the edge of the jungle as quickly as they could. No sooner were they in among the trees than Peter heard a vehicle engine. He crouched behind a tree and peered through the leaves. At the top of the slope a white 4WD appeared. It roared down, going much too fast for safety. As it got closer Peter saw it had four armed men in it. Two wore Confederate caps.
That was close! he thought as he watched the vehicle drive past back the way they had come. I hope they don’t see our tracks.
As soon as the vehicle was out of hearing Peter called on the others to move out. Old Ned was plainly worried and kept muttering to himself. They plodded up the grassy slope, which was both steeper and longer than it looked. By the time they reached the top Peter’s heart was hammering hard and he had to stop to let it slow down. The others did likewise. There was a clump of jungle there which gave them some cover. Graham had moved on ahead again.
As soon as he thought they were ready Peter resumed walking. The track wound to the left side of the patch of jungle, then to the right and up an open, grassy slope. It was a long, uphill plod for Old Ned and they stopped twice to let him get his breath back.
Near the top Graham waited, crouched behind a tree. He signalled them to halt and came back to them.
“Enemy ahead. Four of them. On top of the next hill.”
Chapter 29
JUNGLE TREK
Enemy!
Peter’s heart pounded and he swallowed. He began to feel hunted and stressed. Crouching in the long grass he whispered to Graham. “What should we do?”
“Detour around them,” Graham replied.
So saying he stood up and waved to the others to follow. He went downhill to the left through the long grass, keeping just below the crest of the hill. Peter understood and waved the others to follow and set off. After a hundred paces they came out onto a flat spur, still among the grass and large trees. The hill occupied by the enemy was right beside them. Peter kept glancing at it, hoping Graham’s sense of ‘Ground’ was right.
For perhaps a dozen paces they were exposed to any observer on the opposite slope but after that they were on the lower slopes of the same hill as the enemy and hidden by the convexity of the ground. Graham led them on for another hundred metres then stopped.
“The vehicle track is just here. Lie down in the grass and wait,” he said.
“Why? What are you going to do?” Peter asked. He was feeling very worn and wiped sweat from his eyes.
“Just going to check if we are where I think we are,” Graham replied.
“Don’t get seen,” Peter cautioned.
Graham gave him a reproachful look. “I won’t. You just keep everyone under cover,” he replied. He rose and strode on across the track and vanished around the other side of the hill among a thicket of small bushes and trees. As the others arrived Peter waved them down. He explained briefly, then settled to having a drink and flicking off more leeches.
Joy sat beside him checking herself for leeches. She looked dirty and exhausted. “I hate this! I’ll be glad when it is over.”
Peter nodded. “So will I. I wish I’d never heard of this bloody Scroll. It had better be good! What misery it has caused! One mob want it because they think it is the truth and reinforces their religion and the others want it to destroy it because it might prove their wrong! What a load of crap!”
“Pretty weak religions if they can’t stand a bit of testing,” Joy commented.
“What religion are you?” Peter asked. It had been a question he had wanted to ask for some time but had not known how to go about it.
“Uniting Church, why?” Joy replied, her face dimpling into a mischievous grin. Peter did not answer, just went red.
He was too tongue tied to talk after that. Ten minutes went by and he began to worry that something had gone wrong. But it hadn’t. Graham came silently back the way he had gone. He signalled them to move and led them on down the hill northwards beside the vehicle track. At a clump of trees and bushes he halted and they crowded in.
“It is their signal detachment,” Graham explained, ignoring Peter’s accusatory glance. “Four blokes with a Land Cruiser, a radio mast and a satellite communication dish. They are right on top of the range and have a great view right out over the Tablelands. I reckon I know where we are so let’s press on.”
Old Ned nodded. “I know the place,” he said. “A bit of a lookout it is.”
They went on down the ridge. Ahead of them jungle covered ridges loomed ever closer, giving Peter a sense of impending trial and dread. Graham increased his pace and soon vanished from sight again. The track was easy going, winding gently down through the long grass and bushes. It then levelled out and went gently uphill towards the jungle. Peter marvelled at how one type of vegetation could change to another within a few metres.
Just before reaching the jungle the track turned sharply right and went down around the edge of it on top of a steep slope. The track then went left into the jungle, curving along the side of the mountain. Now they had to walk on the track to avoid the jungle.
After ten minutes walking they caught up with Graham again. He had his fingers to his lips.
“More Confederates,” he whispered. “There is a small creek, then a road junction. They are there with a blue truck.”
“How many? What are they doing?” Peter asked. He had a terrible sense that whichever way they twisted they would run into the searching men.
“I saw three. They are cooking and telling jokes,” Graham replied. “I think they are probably some sort of roadblock to keep people out of the area.”
Old Ned nodded. “That will be the other road down the mountain. The one I told you about.”
“What do we do then?” Joy asked. She was still jotting down coded messages. These were almost non-stop but she had not had an opportunity to decode any.
Graham gestured to their left. “Just detour around through the jungle,” he replied, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What if they hear us and come looking?” Joy asked.
Graham grinned and tapped his M16. “They might regret that.”
He stood, took out secateurs, then led the group off the track on the left into really thick jungle. This was some of the worst Peter had ever met, a real tangle of vines, logs and ‘wait-a-while’ te
ndrils. Several times the vicious curved barbs snagged him, tearing his shirt and drawing blood. Joy also got snagged several times, once on the neck, causing a line of tiny blood droplets to well up, then trickle. In the process of wiping these she discovered a huge fat leech, which added to the blood flow when pulled off.
It took them nearly half an hour to detour around the road block. Graham led them uphill beside a creek, which he insisted they use to refill their water bottles from. Scratches were washed and faces rinsed as well, before they cut their way up a very steep slope through a wall of wait-a-while.
The last part was so steep they all slipped several times. They emerged on an old road. Graham crawled up and peered along it both ways from on his belly among the lantana, then waved them up. Peter had to scrabble to make it and Joy slipped. Peter managed to grab her sleeve and hauled her up. They stood on the old road sweating and chests heaving. Peter was so aggravated by the dirt and leaves down the back of his shirt, by the sweat and scratches that he was ready to lose his temper. Instead he met Joy’s eyes and felt a wave of calm come over him. For at least half a minute they just stood looking at each other and holding hands. Peter very gently removed a leaf which was stuck to her cheek, then used the back of his fingers to wipe some blood from a scratch on her neck.
The others crawled up to join them, Old Ned labouring hard. Peter smiled and returned to reality. He looked at the old road. It had clearly had very little use recently except for a single set of wheel tracks each way.
Graham, who had been under cover facing back down the road turned to Old Ned. “Is this your road over the mountain?” he asked.
Old Ned stared around, then nodded. “Yep, this is it.”
Peter made a face. “Doesn’t look like it gets much use,” he commented.
Graham gestured impatiently. “Let’s not stand here magging,” he said. “Those Confederates are just back around that bend.”
He turned left and led them northwards along the old road. It went along the side of a spur on a bench cut. Jungle covered ridges showed out to the left through gaps in the trees.
The Word of God Page 35