“I’d better get on and find some water,” he muttered.
He went to get up and cried out in pain. All his muscles seemed to have tightened up and pains felt like they were shooting out of very joint and from muscles he did not even know he owned. It took him several minutes of effort before he was standing on shaky legs leaning against a tree.
That crash must have taken more out of me than I realized, he thought, not wanting to acknowledge the role that fear might have played.
On legs that still felt like they were made of rubber he pushed off and began walking. Or rather he began tottering. Shocked by his weakness and lack of balance he stopped at the next tree to steady himself. He was dismayed to find his vision blurring and spinning.
Only when it had stopped and his balance felt steadier did he resume his attempt. I can’t stay here. They might come tracking me with dogs or something, he thought. So he staggered off through the bush, keeping direction by the constellation of Orion.
Then, as he walked stiffly along, Willy saw a sudden point of distant light. He stopped behind a tree to look but it was what he had been expecting.
The cattle station homestead, he decided, noting that it was about where he had hoped it would be. So I am not lost. Cheered by that thought and the obvious progress he was making.
As he walked Willy saw other lights show through the intervening trees and they helped him keep direction. Ten minutes of stumbling over logs and anthills brought him to a change of vegetation. The trees ended and open ground began, the homestead lights showing much more clearly.
I am on the perimeter of the airfield, he thought, calculating that the closest lights were only about three hundred metres away.
Satisfied no-one there could see or hear him he continued on, looking frequently to his left to check his progress. It was because of that and because he was trying to see if there were any people visible that he didn’t see the fence.
But he felt it!
Zap!
“Yah! Ouch! Bloody hell!” Willy cried, jumping back and waving his stung left hand in pain.
He swore under his breath and cursed himself for being a forgetful idiot. He had noticed the electrified fence earlier but had forgotten. Now it was obvious. And it had hurt. The bite had quite shocked him and his hand and arm were still tingling minutes afterwards.
That is much more powerful than the average electric fence, he thought, remembering other times he’d accidentally been nipped.
Then another horrifying thought came to him: had he triggered an alarm of some sort? Driven by that frightening thought he immediately turned his back on the homestead lights and walked quickly away. Only after he was a hundred metres or so inside the trees did he slow and look back.
To his relief there was no sound of any pursuit; no raised voices or alarm bells; no vehicles driving in his direction.
Maybe there isn’t an alarm, he thought hopefully.
He decided that if there was it would be continually set off by cattle and kangaroos. But he had no desire to suffer another electric shock so when he turned left and continued walking parallel to the airstrip he stayed well back among the trees and kept his eyes peeled for any fences.
It was as well he did because when he was level with the far end of the airstrip he came to one. But this one just looked like an ordinary three strand barbed wire fence. On the other side was a vehicle track running beside it. Not wanting to take any risks Willy got down on his back and crawled carefully under the bottom strand. He used his rolled-up shirt to hold the barbs away from him, ignoring the grit and sticks that dug into his bare back as he did. Then he knelt and brushed out his tracks, moving backwards across the two wheel tracks on his knees so as not to leave any boot prints. As he did he grinned wryly as the memory of a cadet exercise two years earlier where a patrol of army cadets had been tracked by just such carelessness.
He then started walking as near as he could calculate to northeast. To do this he used Orion’s stars again. The lesson on Navigation by the Stars kept flitting through his mind.
Work out which way is Orion’s head by locating the three stars of his belt and the three stars of his sword. Then face your head to match his and line your shoulders up with his. You are then standing so that your right hand is roughly east and your left west, he reminded himself.
It wasn’t nearly as reliable as using the stars of the Southern Cross but Willy knew that at this time of the year the Southern Cross did not come up at night.
It’s good enough, he told himself.
He continued walking until the lights of the homestead were only visible as an occasional distant twinkle. Then he turned half left and began making his way north.
I should strike the river a few hundred metres east of the last building, he thought.
Then he stopped, his ears pricked and every nerve taut. There was something moving in the bush ahead of him!
Chapter 7
WHO IS THAT?
Willy froze, every muscle tensed and his heart hammering in fear. Movement! Only fifty metres ahead! His panicked eyes tried to focus and then his ears took over as a drumming, rustling sound came to his ears. Large whitish objects bobbled among the trees, moving as a pattern which suddenly stilled except for a few peripheral movements.
Then Willy recognized what he was seeing and hearing. Cattle, he thought with relief. Brahmins. He stopped and sighed, then leaned on a tree. “It is a cattle station,” he told himself, adding in his mind, At least as a cover.
But what were the men so desperate to hide that they would shoot almost on sight? That nagged at Willy and he guessed that whatever it was, it was something big.
For a few minutes, he stood until thirst and dizziness urged him to move. Cautiously he tried to detour around the cattle, not wanting to cause a stampede. He was also afraid of them attacking him and was ashamed of such emotions.
We eat cattle. They don’t eat us, he told himself. But it didn’t help much. The thought of being trampled or gored by a large bull was enough to make his stomach turn to water.
And as soon as he moved the cattle also moved. Some began to run and then the infection of fear cause others to follow until the whole herd was racing off through the bush. All Willy could do was stand against a big tree and curse.
At least they aren’t running towards me, he thought. Or towards the homestead.
The noise of the stampeding cattle sounded very loud to him in the stillness of the evening but the sound soon faded, the cattle vanishing off to his right into the bush. Even after all the trampling and crashing noises had died away Willy remained listening. His eyes scanned the bush in the direction of the homestead, watching for any headlights or movement that might indicate that someone had heard and was coming to investigate.
But nothing unusual happened so he took heart and resumed walking. Once again, the stars were his guide and he was able to keep a relatively straight course. Out of fear he moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to disturb any more cattle or stumble into a trap. So he moved slowly from tree to tree and frequently crouched behind logs, anthills or bushes and scanned the dark bush.
All the while his whole being seemed to be in pain. His right shoulder throbbed, his left was numb, the gunshot wound stung, his legs and knees had sharp twinges and he felt very thirsty. His skin felt hot and dry and he was aware he had long since stopped sweating, even though the night air