The Silent Country (20 page)

The barmaid, a sharp-eyed, sun-weathered woman, began pulling beers when Topov announced that he was buying drinks for everyone. He introduced himself to the two stockmen and a truck driver delivering cattle to the town of Katherine and waved to the other men in the room.

Helen joined the others in the dining room and Marta asked, ‘Why is he so generous? How is it that he can buy drinks for strangers when we can’t buy food and petrol for us?’

‘I don’t believe it. He seems to be one of those people that get hit in the rear end by rainbows,’ muttered Helen. ‘He spent the afternoon fossicking for gold. You know that he fancies himself as an amateur geologist.’

‘Did he find something?’ asked Marta, her eyes wide.

‘Yes. A nugget of gold, which he says he sold to some fellow from the mine.’

‘Did you see it?’

‘No, but he showed me some money. The problem now is to stop him spending it all.’

‘Let’s get him out of the bar,’ said Marta firmly. ‘We’ll help you.’

By the time Colin went back to the bar, Topov had engaged another three strangers in conversation about finding a ‘good place to make film’. Marta signalled Johnny to come over and she quickly explained the situation. Johnny, who was enjoying one of Topov’s free drinks, understood at once what Marta was saying and he slapped Topov on the back.

‘Hey, what’s this? You struck gold?’

Everyone in the bar went quiet and all looked at Topov.

‘Topov know rocks. I look at river, I look at hill. Topov knows where to find gold. I find big piece.’

‘So where is it?’ asked Drago.

‘Topov sell! I make good money. We all drink to celebrate. Friends, you drink,’ he exclaimed, dropping his arm around one of the stockmen who pulled away in shock. Topov threw some more notes on the bar but before the barmaid could swoop Johnny and Colin had their hands on the money.

‘This is for petrol. Supplies. No more drinks,’ said Johnny.

‘This money belongs to Topov. I say we drink.’

‘You want to share some of that cash? You can share it with us,’ said Johnny, ‘We’re owed expenses.’

Topov’s face darkened as they led him from the bar. ‘Topov find gold. Topov get more gold. Plenty gold in rocks.’

‘We’re not here to mine for gold,’ said Helen.

‘Can you just pick it up off the ground?’ asked Johnny, suddenly interested.

‘If it was that easy we’d all be out there,’ called the barmaid after them. ‘I reckon he’s having you on. Did ya see the nugget?’

Topov was incensed by her insinuation. ‘She think I tell lies. You talk to mine manager. Topov great geologist.’

Outside the hotel, Helen insisted that Topov settle their bill right away.

‘We want to leave early in the morning.’ She held out her hand. ‘Give me the cash. I’m the business manager, I’ll look after it.’

Topov reluctantly handed over a wad of money.

‘How many ounces of gold was it?’ asked Johnny.

Topov shrugged. ‘Enough.’ And stomped towards his caravan.

Everyone was subdued at breakfast after the drama of the previous evening.

‘Where’s Topov?’ asked Colin.

‘He’s having a shower upstairs,’ said Helen. She pulled out some money and said to Johnny, ‘Let’s go to the store for food supplies, fill up the jerry cans with petrol and get some water. We’ve got to make this money last until Darwin.’

‘Those blokes in the bar suggested that we should stop in Katherine. See the gorge. Sounds pretty spectacular,’ said Colin.

Helen shrugged. ‘There’s scenery and there’re things that are more anthropological. We’ve yet to see any traditional Aborigines, any real wildlife or the jungle that Topov wants.’

‘I say we take a side trip to this gorge,’ said Drago. ‘I want to take photographs. Let’s vote.’

Everyone raised their hand.

‘So long as it doesn’t waste time, money or energy,’ said Helen.

‘Oh, it’s sure to do all of that.’ Marta smiled.

Topov was annoyed that a decision had been made without him. ‘We see big gorge, better place near Darwin,’ he said gruffly.

‘Maybe. But we have to drive right through Katherine and we don’t want to miss something magic,’ soothed Helen.

‘Well, Katherine ain’t any metropolis either,’ drawled Johnny as they came into the outback town past the meat-works and a couple of pubs, one of which had a glaring pseudo-Aboriginal mural of boomerangs and kangaroos on its walls.

‘I’m so tired of cattle country,’ said Marta. ‘It’s scruffy land and you hardly see a house or a cow. Where are the forests?’

‘These cattle stations here are half the size of European nations,’ said Drago.

‘I think we have to drive off this so-called road to get an idea of the scale,’ added Peter.

‘The stock feed isn’t lush like Europe, but the cattle are tough and spread widely,’ said Colin. ‘You need a lot of acres to feed one beast.’

‘It would be great to see it from the air,’ said Johnny. ‘You blokes need to get a plane to film it and get the real idea of the size.’

‘Where we get plane?’ asked Topov, his eyes alight.

‘You mean, where do we get the money to hire a plane?’ asked Helen, instantly pouring cold water on the idea.

They camped at the edge of the town for the night and Johnny turned out a respectable meal for them, as they all had turned up their noses at the local greasy spoon café in town.

‘We’re here to see this gorge,’ said Marta. ‘So how do we get there?’

Colin spoke up, pleased to be the one with the
information. ‘I had a chat to the garage man when we filled up. He’s got a small boat and he said he’d be willing to loan it to us to go down the gorge. Said it’s quite something to see.’

‘Johnny, why we no bring boat?’ demanded Topov.

Johnny threw up his hands and Drago stepped in.

‘You saw the land we’ve come through, the bleeding caravan is bad enough, can you imagine bringing a
boat
as well?’

‘Seems you have something arranged, Colin. Let’s talk to the man tomorrow,’ said Peter.

It was a small, old boat, but despite its heavy construction it had a broad beam and was sturdy. They could all fit into it and the engine sounded healthy. Peter took the tiller, Topov sat in the bow with the Bolex and Drago had a small stills camera ready. The others settled into the little open boat as it chugged away from the makeshift landing towards the giant red cliffs which towered over the stretch of turquoise water.

‘The colours! Magnificent, yes?’ said Topov. He lifted his arm in a gesture of approval as if he were personally responsible for the stunning palette.

The linked gorges were still and peaceful, the stretch of calm water protected by ancient gold and red walls. Trickles of wet-season waterfalls, ferns, and small rock outcrops and overhangs sheltering caves marked the jagged cliff face. In the sky above, large birds swooped and shrieked.

Peter steered the boat close to the cliffs of the gorge then out to the centre before taking a right-hand turn under another row of cliffs. Here they could see that further along the river narrowed and at the bottom of the sheer cliffs were low flat rocks and shallow pools.

‘We could go ashore and walk around there,’ suggested Colin.

‘We’ll have to be careful where we leave the boat,’ replied Drago. ‘We don’t want it to drift.’

‘There looks to be some caves up there,’ said Peter, shading his eyes.

‘It’s so hot and still in here, it’s like an oven,’ Marta exclaimed. ‘I want to jump in the water.’

‘Sounds like a great idea, but let’s wait till we’re ashore and we can check it out,’ said Colin.

Topov shaded his eyes and looked up at the cliffs. ‘Good view from top. How we get up there?’

‘You’re joking, mate,’ said Johnny.

They pulled in to a large flat rock in a scoop of water. A metal spike had been jammed into the rock as a mooring and they tied the boat up after scrambling ashore. The rocks were like scattered loose leaves of a large book that had been dropped from the sky, a story yet to be read by these travellers. The group stepped along them to the shallow end of the waterway where a trickle of a waterfall fell down the iron-red cliff face into a pool.

‘Let’s swim!’ cried Marta peeling off her shirt and shorts to reveal her red swimmers. Helen had also worn her swimsuit as had Colin, but the others swam in their shorts. Like children they frolicked under the gaze of their chaperone, Topov, who held the Bolex and refused to come in.

‘Take a shot of the wild natives,’ called Johnny, splashing the water. He was not a good swimmer, but the water was shallow so he paddled about contentedly.

‘Let’s swim out into the main channel, this water is too warm,’ said Colin, pulling Marta’s arm and they swam to find the narrow cool currents in the middle of the watercourse. Drago, however, decided to join Topov and take some photographs of this idyllic place. He stood on the rocks looking through the lens of the camera.

Suddenly he shouted. ‘There’s a crocodile!’

‘Oh my God!’ Marta started churning through the water.

Colin froze, so frightened he couldn’t move. He closed his eyes and waited for the crunch of jaws to grab him. Drago and Johnny, who had stayed close to shore, pulled Marta to safety and Peter quickly followed.

‘Colin, swim, hurry,’ screamed Marta.

Remembering that he had been told that sharks were attracted by thrashing in the water and thinking that the same might be true of crocodiles, Colin tried to creep through the water with as little noise as possible. Then he saw it. A brown shadow, about three feet long, that glided towards him, its horny snout nosing unconcernedly through the water. Colin stopped swimming as the reptile kept going on past him. He turned back to the stunned group on the rocks.

‘Look there’s another one! Up there on the ledge,’ shouted Johnny. ‘Blimey, the bastards are everywhere.’

‘But they’re not taking much notice of us,’ said Drago, taking photos of the reptiles that seemed to surround the party.

Colin got out of the water and looked to where Marta was pointing at one of the sunning crocodiles. ‘These crocs don’t look very big,’ he said. ‘You’d think that if they were dangerous, the bloke in the garage would have said something about them. Maybe they aren’t the man-eating variety.’

‘Well, I’m not going back in there,’ declared Marta.

Topov had clambered around the rocks and was heading back to the boat, when he called to Drago.

‘Look! Aborigine art!’ He was pointing up the cliff face where, in an open cave, they could see the ochre daubs of several figures and what looked to be the stick figure of a man with a crocodile head which had been painted onto the rocks.

‘How the hell did they get up there to do those paintings?’ asked Johnny.

‘I think they must have climbed down from the top,’ said Peter.

Drago took some still pictures and because he was able to see the paintings more clearly through the telephoto lens, he passed the camera around for them to all have a closer look. They were quiet, gazing up at this hidden gallery in the magnificent gorge.

‘This is more of what I hoped to see,’ whispered Marta to Colin.

He slipped his arm around her waist. ‘Me too.’ He spoke softly as if in a church.

Topov eyed them sternly but said nothing. Colin dropped his arm from Marta’s body.

Johnny whistled as he drove the Jeep. Colin was deep in thought, scribbling in his notebook.

‘Hope you can read your handwriting, even the good roads are pretty bad,’ said Johnny. ‘What’re you writing? Your diary?’

‘I’m supposed to be writing the script of our film, so I make as many notes as I can. I’ve no idea how it’s all going to come together.’

‘You really think we’re going to end up with a proper film? That people’ll want to see?’ said Johnny sarcastically.

‘Well, how many people would love to see a place like Katherine Gorge and never get out here?’ countered Colin. ‘So long as Drago backs up Topov I think we’ll get some sort of mileage out of the film. And we haven’t got to this Arnhem Land yet, either.’ He decided not to mention Peter’s doubts about Topov as in the bright light of day the Dutchman’s comments seemed the musings of a negative and dour man.

‘Yeah, matey, you might be right. I see a lot of opportunities out here. I think Topov does too,’ said Johnny.

‘For films?’

‘Ah, more than that. People are just beginning to scratch the surface of Australia.’

‘All the more reason then that a film about this unknown part of the country could be of interest,’ said Colin. ‘Maybe Topov is right about the interest and the Aborigines and whatever Arnhem Land has in it.’

‘Takes money to exploit a place,’ said Johnny. ‘More than what you and I have in our kick.’

‘Sometimes it also just takes a bit of luck too,’ added Colin.

Johnny glanced over at Colin and grinned. ‘You don’t sound like a bloke from the bank. But that’s what can happen to a fellow. A bit of luck can be the start of a whole new life. Or you can blow it in a night. That’s the gamble, ain’t it now?’