A Dangerous Land, page 12
“Sir, are you alright?” Daniel asked, taking the few steps up so he was at the same height as Mr McKenzie. “Your leg doesn’t look too good.”
“Och,” Mr McKenzie replied. “It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t encountered on this hellish trek before. Why do you think I started the airlines? So I’d never have to climb these mountains again!”
Daniel knew Mr McKenzie’s moods well enough not to reply. A mosquito swarmed in his ear and he swatted it away, not wanting to succumb a fate every bit as dire as Mr McKenzie’s, a bout of malaria being the last thing he needed. He rubbed at the stubbly beard that’d grown over the past week, wondering how they were going to get the man off the side of this mountain. They weren’t far from the top; the trees were clearing only a few hundred feet above them. They’d made it this far, and Daniel sure as hell wasn’t going to go back now.
“If you give me a push, I should be right with Silas pulling me from above,” Mr McKenzie said. “Silas! Pull me up while Daniel pushes.”
Silas nodded, but Daniel saw him look to the ground, not out of shame but as if he was assessing the situation. “I don’t know, boss,” he said. “You could slip.”
“I won’t slip if you do your job!” Mr McKenzie yelled. “Now hurry up! I’m desperate for a cup of tea.” Silas shook his head but did as he was told, bending down to grab Mr McKenzie’s hand. “Right, lad,” Mr McKenzie said to Daniel. “You ready?”
Daniel looked down. The wall of dirt extended several hundred feet below until it opened into a deep ravine that was covered in a web of vines and trees. Silas was right. One of them could easily slip and fall to their death before they’d even have time to comprehend what was happening. Daniel refused to let Mr McKenzie’s prediction come true, and yet couldn’t help but think that it’d be an easy way to rid himself of the burden of him once and for all. Daniel bit the inside of his cheek and said, “If you say so.”
Mr McKenzie shifted his rifle across his back and extended his good leg into one of the foot holes while Silas grabbed his hand. Daniel pushed up against Mr McKenzie’s buttocks, muscles straining against the weight of a man, who easily weighed over fifteen stone. He gritted his teeth and held on tightly, even though his feet were slipping, the ground like banana peels beneath him. He could let go and watch as Mr McKenzie plummeted to his death, except his arms wouldn’t allow it, wouldn’t take a life so easily. Not yet, at least. He shoved his shoulder into Mr McKenzie’s arse instead, throwing all his weight into it, just as a loud whooshing sounded from above. A plane was flying overhead. Turning his head to search through the canopy of trees, heart accelerating at the thought of the Japanese finding them, he lost his grip, his feet slipped from beneath him and his body hurled down the mountain, with no end in sight.
* * *
Daniel opened his eyes, a vision of Amelia dancing before him, glimmers of emerald green fading away as the canopy of rainforest came back into focus. The rain had eased into a light pitter-patter, everything else quiet except the usual sounds of the jungle. No plane. No voices. No one but him. He sat up – every muscle aching as he moved – and looked around. The jungle was as quiet as Daniel had feared. A snake slithered past, its cold skin brushing his arm. He flinched, and the creature slunk away, as if it hadn’t even noticed Daniel was there. It was a death adder, with a flattened, triangular head and a thick body with bands of red, brown and black. Daniel shot to standing and scurried away. Taking a minute to calm his racing heart, he looked around to discover he was at the bottom of the ravine, the one he’d been sure would kill him. He’d fallen, terrified by the sound of the Japanese plane overhead.
He pieced together the last moments before it happened – how, ironically, he had ended up taking the fall for Mr McKenzie. Was that his plan all along? And now that Daniel had fallen, would he at least send the locals to help, or would he leave Daniel here to rot, finally getting his wish? Would anyone else come? Silas would, but would be forced to do as his “masta” said. Would the others even notice he was missing? Probably not – to them he was just another black man.
I’m more than that. Aren’t I?
He spat out the mud that’d gathered in his mouth, eyeing the wall of dirt in front of him, the mountain he’d already climbed once that day. He squeezed his fists, ready to prove Mr McKenzie wrong. His body took control, stepping forward to start again. Mr McKenzie wouldn’t be getting his wish – at least, not today.
* * *
Daniel hobbled into Skindiwai village, the roar of the men’s laughter and smell of bully beef leading the way. He was desperate for a good feed and smoke after conquering that mountain again, and couldn’t wait to see the look on Mr McKenzie’s face when he strode into camp in one piece. But his reaction fell short. Mr McKenzie barely batted an eyelid.
“About time,” Mr McKenzie said, extending a cup of tea out to Daniel.
“No thanks to you,” he replied, taking the cup and throwing its contents into the fire. A few of the other men eyed him curiously, but said nothing.
Mr McKenzie sipped at his own cup. His thigh was propped up on a log, freshly bandaged though still the colour of cooked lobsters. A sheen of sweat glistened from his forehead. “Aye, well … you couldn’t have predicted the Japs flying overhead at that exact moment, but should expect that sort of thing when you’re at war. Those bastards will come out of nowhere, so you’d better get a thicker skin about you, lad, or you won’t even make it to Wau.”
“That’s what you’d prefer, isn’t it? That I die out here? Then you’ll be rid of me for good! That’s why you didn’t send anyone to help!”
Mr McKenzie shifted his leg slightly and winced. “I didn’t send anyone to help because I knew you’d be alright on your own.”
“How could you have known that?”
“Because your father survived the same fall when we were lads. Nearly same circumstances, in fact. Trying to help my fat arse up the range. These mountains are in your blood.”
Daniel’s mouth fell open. “You did this climb with my father?”
“Of course. You know that. Harry had been up and down the Black Cat at least a hundred times until we built the aerodrome in Wau. He was searching for gold, after all.”
Daniel huffed, taking a seat next to Mr McKenzie as he warmed his hands above the fire. The talk of his father had settled his anger; Mr McKenzie always knew how to defuse a situation. Maybe the old man didn’t want him to die after all. He eyed the men around him, who were sitting in nothing but their underdaks; their clothes were strewn over a rail that’d been erected near the blaze, washed of all mud and nearly ready to be worn again. A light mist lingered, the rain gone for now. Daniel noticed how the men were sitting in pairs, huddled close as they talked, the occasional laugh surfacing, while empty plates that’d been licked clean lay by their sides. There was a satisfied and sleepy look across each of their faces.
Daniel’s stomach grumbled. “Is there any more food?”
Mr McKenzie hissed, and a local Daniel didn’t recognise came scurrying up. “Givim dispela boi sompela kaikai,” Mr McKenzie said, nodding towards Daniel. The local quickly returned with a plate of what looked like roast pig, but it had the rankest of smells. As hungry as he was, Daniel knew he’d be sick if he ate it.
Mr McKenzie grumbled. “Yu no ken ting?” he said to the local. “Givim sampela pawpaw, sampela suga cane.” He shook his head and tsked, before saying to Daniel, “We’re out of rations. Cooked up the last of the bully beef before you arrived. That cup of tea you threw into the fire was it until we get to Wau. The natives from this village went out and killed a boar for us, but as you can see the beast is as rank as my arse.”
Daniel’s shoulders slumped at the thought of nothing but fruit to satisfy his aching hunger, but was too tired to ask for anything else. He tucked into the plate of pawpaw the local man brought back for him, slurping up the slippery flesh that sailed down his throat until he couldn’t eat anymore. All he needed now was a smoke, and he felt around in his pockets until he remembered he was all out. He looked around at the other men, but Mr McKenzie said, “We’re all out of tobacco too.”
Daniel’s heart sank until Mr McKenzie added, “But I traded with the Kanakas in the village for some brus. Not as good, but it’ll do the job.” He handed Daniel a cigarette rolled out of banana leaves and lit it for him.
Daniel toyed with the taste of the first inhalation; it was incredibly strong compared to tobacco. It’s something at least. He leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes, knowing this would be the first of many changes he’d have to endure.
* * *
Daniel shivered; the early morning air was bitterly cold. Mr McKenzie was lying next to him, face glistening with sweat as his body convulsed in chills. There was no doubt that he was suffering from infection, but there wasn’t much they could do until they made it to Wau. He sat up briefly to stoke the fire, hoping the flames would help to warm them both, when he noticed that the other men were huddled close together, sucking the warmth from one another. Daniel inched closer to Mr McKenzie so his stomach was pressed against the old man’s back.
“You trying to coorie me, boy?” Mr McKenzie asked, the tremors of his body vibrating through Daniel’s.
Daniel stiffened but didn’t move. “I’m trying to keep you warm.”
Mr McKenzie grunted but allowed himself to be held. “Hope you’re not thinking of my daughter.”
Daniel scoffed. “Trust me. That’s the last thing I’m thinking about.” He relaxed and closed his eyes, though it was hard not to think of Amelia now, not to wonder whether she was travelling alright. New Guinea was a harsh place, a dangerous land. Her journey would be different to what Daniel was experiencing, but that didn’t make it any less difficult. And with all those sick men to care for, Amelia had an extra challenge. At least she had Evelyn by her side, the company of a loved sibling. And Tom too, of course, but he pushed that thought aside, thinking instead of his friendship with her over the years, the close bond they shared and the ease that came with falling in love with your best friend. She was likely too consumed to think of anything except what was in front of her, but Daniel hoped that in those quiet moments before the day dawned and unveiled its gruesome self, in those occasional breaths of respite where she was able to sit, to think, to reflect, that she thought of him too.
17
Amelia
The only thing Amelia could think about right now was getting Clarke and the other sick men safely to shore. Managing to reach their pinnace at the same time as two of the canoes, she climbed on board to discover the wounded were none the wiser about their situation. Clarke was gazing up at the sky – now fading into the blue hour – with a vacant stare. The Aussie man who was captaining this boat was trying to keep his cool, giving Amelia a stern look to warn her to keep quiet. She helped him tie the pinnace to the back of the canoes, then tended to Clarke as they were pulled towards shore.
She helped Clarke onto land, then lay him under a coconut tree before going to assess the damage to the pinnace. Evelyn was up on her feet, a touch of colour returned to her cheeks, and she helped to unload what they could salvage of the stores. All of the sugar, tea, biscuits and most of their rice was gone, sodden with sea water. Amelia sank to her knees.
“We might be able to dry it out,” Evelyn said in that encouraging way she was known for.
“What will we do?” Amelia asked, a desperate tinge to her voice.
Evelyn sighed and sat next to her. “What we always do. Get on it with it.”
Amelia nodded, but didn’t know how much more they could get on with without the appropriate supplies. The sick men needed nourishment, the able-bodied ones hope. The kind of hope that comes at the bottom of a cup of tea. They still had weeks left of their journey, being only halfway to Buna, from where they’d trek inland until they reached Kokoda. From there, they’d hopefully be evacuated by air – but weren’t certain Kokoda’s airfield was even operable. She loved Evelyn, but her sister’s overly positive nature was hard to stomach when they were faced with truly difficult circumstances. Sometimes she wanted to wallow in their misery. The rest of the trek would be near impossible without their stores; their reliance on the locals and their generosity would increase tenfold. And even though Amelia knew it was selfish, the idea of facing long days at sea and even longer nights without a cup of tea to look forward to was heartbreaking. She swallowed, throat burning as she held back the tears that threatened to spill out, the little hope she had left for the remainder of their journey sitting soaked on a beach in the middle of nowhere.
* * *
The huts that housed the sick were stifling, the smell of decaying flesh mixing with the pungent aroma of ammonia and sweat. Amelia held her breath as long as she could, but soon got used to the misery that swallowed these men, the hope for their survival diminishing each day. Their moans rattled in her ears. She and Evelyn had barely stopped since they’d arrived that afternoon, for the men who looked as if they had fared okay on the pinnace had taken a turn for the worse. Thankfully, Evelyn was well enough to help, having fully recovered from her bout of seasickness. But two nurses could do little to alleviate the trouble these men were in. Whenever she had finished tending to one man, she was summoned by the agonising groans of the next. The rain had started again too, a thunderous storm rolling in from the mountains, with bolts of lightning illuminating the hut and the worrying state they were in.
Clarke was by far the worst, with his wound slowly eating away at his flesh. He thrashed in his cot as he dozed in and out of delirium. Evelyn had changed his bandages and administered the only painkillers they had. Amelia remained by Clarke’s side for the rest of the night, feeding him sips of water whenever she was able to get him to hold still for long enough. He knocked the spoon out of her hand on several occasions and spat the liquid in her face whenever she did manage to get a small amount inside. He lunged at her twice, but she was able to thwart his swoops, his body too weakened to put up much of a fight. She patted his forehead with a wet cloth; the air was so sticky with heat she knew it wouldn’t do anything to cool his temperature, but she refused to give up.
When he finally settled, she stepped outside to catch her breath. She sat on the steps and listened as the rain splattered against the thatched roof. She pressed her face into her hands and cried, the release of emotion finally coming in her solitude. The salty tears stung her blistered cheeks, a reminder that she was, in fact, still alive. She thought of everything they’d been through this past week and what was still to come. There was no guarantee she’d make it out alive; the wilds of New Guinea unleashed themselves at every bend, this country she loved so dearly finally showing its true self. She could see now what a sheltered life she’d lived, gallivanting between Lae and Salamaua in her father’s planes, her biggest worry being whether her mother would reprimand her for wearing pants or not. She’d never had to experience the true hardships of life up here, not the way Niuginians had, and certainly not the way Daniel did.
Her chest hiccupped. The realisation of what her life had been up until that point made her laugh. And laugh she did, until all the feelings had released themselves from her body, and Amelia was finally ready to get on with it.
18
Daniel
“Sir, we’d better get going,” Daniel said as he shook Mr McKenzie’s shoulder to wake him. “We’ll fall behind if we don’t.”
Mr McKenzie opened one eye; the whites were clouded over in a yellowy sickness. “Och. We’ll be right. I know these mountains better than any of those men. I’ll get us to Wau when I’m ready.”
Daniel sat back and watched as the rest of the men marched out of camp, jealous that they were on their way. In normal circumstances, Daniel would’ve been pleased to remain in the village for the day, getting to know this particular tribe and the customs that shaped their lives, but with the threat of the Japanese beating down their backs, Daniel wanted to put as much distance between the coast and himself as possible. Having heard several planes over the past few days, he was worried the enemy was back for more. While the rainforest offered a canopy of protection, Daniel couldn’t help but pray those planes were the Aussies finally coming to help. Wau was the last airfield between here and Port Moresby, so getting there was more imperative than ever.
Daniel rubbed his feet. The sores were bubbling and oozing pus like little volcanos erupting. Even though he wanted to get to Wau, the thought of putting his boots back on was nearly enough to make him thankful of Mr McKenzie’s condition. This was the longest time he’d spent with the man since he was a kid, since his father had brought him to Salamaua. Born in Rabaul to his Tolai mother who’d died in childbirth, he’d spent his early years in the village with her family until his father came for him when he was nine. As a pioneering gold miner, Harry Carmichael had lived all over New Guinea, first in Rabaul in the early twenties, where he’d enjoyed the spoils of his labour and gallivanted with local women while his family remained in Australia. When he heard of the Royal brothers striking it big in Edie Creek, he headed to the Highlands to make his mark, and had only taken claim of Daniel when he was wealthy enough to get away with his previous indiscretions.
