He hoped to find a cattle trough at a windmill but all he discovered were a few more cattle that trotted away as he got closer. Then there was more bush before he suddenly stumbled onto a graded road. For a few seconds, he stood in the middle of it looking both ways in a state of near stupefaction. Then the truth dawned on him and he hurried on across and slumped under cover in the grass.
For a couple of minutes, he tried to place the road on his mental map and finally decided that it must lead east out of the homestead.
So the river must be somewhere ahead of me, he reasoned.
He struggled painfully to his feet, the pain so bad he had to bite his lip so as not to gasp out aloud. Then he stumbled on. Only after he had gone about fifty paces did the thought occur to him that he should have wiped out his tracks where he had crossed the road.
“You bloody drongo!” he muttered.
Angry at himself for making such an elementary mistake he turned and began walking back. But when he came to the road again he was unsure if he was at the same place. Hurting and annoyed he stood and stared at the grey of the road surface. But in the starlight he could not make out either boot prints or crushed grass.
Finally, he gave it up and shrugged. I will just have to hope that they don’t notice, he decided. But the decision left a niggling swill of gut-churning fear in his stomach. Reluctantly he turned north and started walking towards the river.
After a few minutes of walking a light suddenly appeared ahead to his right front. Willy stopped behind a tree and stared at it. After determining that it was not moving he continued slowly on. After another hundred paces, he saw two more lights appear next to the first, square ones that looked like the windows of a building. That gave him pause as he had felt sure he was now well to the east of the homestead area.
But it was definitely a house. Willy crept forward again, aiming to the northwest to angle away from the house. But in doing so he saw more lights almost dead ahead. Once again, he crouched and worried. It was another building.
In fact several buildings, he noted, seeing another cluster of lights off to the left of the second building.
Through his mind played an image of the station from the air; of buildings being scattered along the river bank and he decided that this must be some of them. His problem now was that he had walked in between two of them. They were each at least two hundred metres from him but it still did not seem like a good place to be. Once again, he stopped to consider the situation and his options.
The most sensible option was to backtrack and then to circle even further to the east. But he was now very dry in the throat and knew he was starting to have blurred vision. A savage headache was starting to hammer in his skull and he was dimly aware that his reasoning might be affected.
But I need water. Besides, they won’t come looking for me in among their base, he tried to reassure himself. So he pressed on northwards, aiming between the two groups of buildings.
After another fifty paces, he came to a dirt road that obviously led to the buildings off to his right. This time Willy was alert and he crept across backwards, brushing out his tracks with a handful of grass. On the other side he resumed his search.
Suddenly a dog barked at the buildings over to Willy’s right and a stab of pure terror coursed through him. He froze in fright and crouched in the long grass. The dog barked again but it was not a frenzied yapping that indicated that he had been detected.
More of a warning bark to another animal, he thought hopefully. But the fact that there was a dog there made him even more anxious to avoid the buildings.
Almost gasping now with thirst, he resumed walking. Ahead of him a line of darker vegetation appeared and it turned out to be what he hoped—the trees lining the river bank. At that point he was directly between the two groups of buildings and the ground began to slope away. He continued on into the trees. There were clumps of rubber vine and lantana among them but he soon found an animal pad and was able to slowly grope and slither his way down to where a line of huge paperbarks overhung the river bed.
The last couple of metres were steep but he slithered safely down and found himself standing on the edge of a wide strip of sand. This was not unexpected as most rivers in that part of the world had dry, sandy beds, especially at that time of year. So Willy plodded a few paces out onto the flat sand, his head swivelling to look both ways in the starlight.
He saw that the river bed was at least a hundred metres wide and that it was about a hundred metres to the dark line of big trees lining the far bank. A few small islands of sand, rocks and trees stood in the dry bed near the far bank. But there was no sign of water. He was about to walk across to the other bank when the thought came to him that he would leave an obvious trail of footprints in the sand.
Better not risk it, he thought.
Remembering that he had seen water near the main homestead buildings he turned left and began walking in that direction. He stayed on the sand but in under the overhanging trees.
It was hard trudging on the dry sand and Willy stopped several times to get his breath back. In the starlight, his vision seemed blurred and he had several giddy spells that brought him to a panting standstill. His tongue felt swollen and he knew he was on the edge of heat exhaustion.
Or heat stroke. I’ve got heat exhaustion now, he decided. I must find water fast.
After another hundred metres his boots began to crackle on small plates of dry mud. Then he saw that the sand had changed colour and in the distance he saw the sparkle of starlight reflected on water.
Good! Nearly there, he thought.
But in the next twenty paces he ran into soft mud and began to sink to his ankles. The mud clung to his boots and they became so heavy he had trouble lifting them.
Bugger! he swore. The water looked tantalizingly close but he saw that there was still about fifty metres of mud. It will be easier if I go along the bank, he reasoned.
He found what looked like a cattle pad that led up under the trees and went up that. The cattle pad then led on along the bank and was easy to follow so he continued along it. But then a light came into view on top of the bank to his left and he stopped behind a tree, heart beating with fright. Then he relaxed as his vision focused. It was the first of the buildings.
Damn! I’m getting a bit close here, he thought.
But a quick search of the river bed beside him still showed dry sand and mud instead of water so he knew he had to take the risk. He was now too exhausted and thirsty to be able to detour back and across to the other bank.
Very slowly he moved from tree to tree. As he did he stared carefully in all directions. The night was very still with no breeze and apart from the hum of insects and the occasional night bird’s call it was very quiet. Then, as he crept along the bank below the building he heard the faint sound of music.
Classical—Beethoven, Willy thought. Very classy for this bit of bush.
He was about seventy-five metres from the building and as he moved more of it became visible until he saw that it was a long, low structure with a covered patio and glass doors facing the river. He also noted that there were only a few trees between him and the building and that there were no bushes. The grass appeared to be very short and he presumed that the owner had mowed it to make a back lawn.
Willy edged on along the bank, keeping in among the trees but this became harder as they thinned out to a single line with wide gaps between them. Then he saw a path leading down to what looked like a small beach. His gaze moved across it and he sighed with relief. There was water there. He could see it reflecting the starlight as ripples moved its surface.
Trembling with relief and exhaustion Willy made his was down the gentle grassy bank and crept across to the water, moving on hands and knees to try to hide his tracks. That