Homeland Defense

Chapter 2 - Sundown - Prospector's Hideaway

Chapter 2 - Sundown - Prospector's HideawayBy the time Riley made his way back to the bushman's hut his wife was asleep. Roo and Bongo were wide awake. Even though both were sorely wounded they were the only ones who could entertain Elle, all of four years, and two year old Harry. Katie was up all night tending to the two wounded men. She had collapsed with welcome relief when Bongo said he and Roo would look after the kids while she grabbed some sleep.

Katie knew plenty about nursing from helping her father tend his livestock and a multitude of sick neighbours. It seemed everyone preferred to drop in to see her father rather than go to the 'quack' in town. Her father had been an army medic during the Vietnam war. He had returned there after the war to do voluntary work in hospitals up and down the country. His skill with wounds, broken bones and simple aches and pains was legendary.

Riley chuckled when he saw his wife asleep and the two young men groaning as little Harry climbed all over them, he was like a hyperactive caterpillar. Roo in particular struggled to keep his broken arm free of little Harry's squirming arms and legs. Elle, ever the responsible eldest child, fretted when she couldn't slow Harry's enthusiastic play. The two men could only grunt in pain at the infant's every twist and turn.

“Hey, fella's, how're you feeling?” Riley asked as he collapsed exhausted onto the low bed next to his sleeping wife.

“Hi, Riley,” answered Bongo as he dragged Harry away from Roo again. He then pushed one of the dogs off his own leg which was swollen and felt like it was on fire. “As you can see we're doing fine but poor Katie's bushed. Sorry we kept you both awake last night.”

“No worries, Bongo, you pair were prepared to give your lives to save my family's, we owe you.” As an afterthought he added, “Oh yeah, you killed the lot of them. Brad and Ferrie and even some of my old mates from school, the traitorous bastards.” He now sat up, his face clearly showing the strain of his nights toil. “I hid the Rovers and I've found another safe place to shack us up. It's a bit of a trek but we can use the horses to take us there.”

Roo was sitting with his back to one of the old tree posts supporting the bark roof. He looked at Bongo and nodded.

“Roo says we should get the hell out of here. At least you, Katie, and the kids should. Maybe take your truck and head off to Birdsville and hook up with our lot.” He looked back to Roo who nodded again.

“Bongo, you're both pretty badly wounded. Any travel is going to make you worse, just look at you.” He waved his hand at them. “Neither of you can stand up and Roo can't even hold a knife and fork. Nah, we stay here until we're all fit enough to travel. It will take a few days before you two will be well enough to move from here.”

“Riley, they'll hunt you down. They'll do bad things to Katie and the kids. Those Wilson's are bad, real bad.” Riley now noticed Bongo's bruised and swollen face as his new friend pushed one of the dogs off his injured leg.

Riley shook his head in resolve, he would stay and look after his injured mates. The two commandos brightened a little when he told them of the weapons he'd collected from the dead Wilson's and then of his plans to move them deeper into the Arkaroola wilderness. He knew of an old prospectors hut that lay among the wild gully's several kilometres away.

“That sounds fine but you're handicapped, Riley. Neither Roo nor I can do much more than hold a rifle. We can't go out on patrol, we're useless. Please, just leave us, we can hide then in a few days we'll be strong enough to fight back,” argued Bongo who was starting to fret, worrying about Katie and the kids again.

“No way, Bongo. Roo's my cousin and you're his mate, that makes you family too. We don't leave family behind,” said Riley, his face firm. Bongo could see that the conversation was over.

Katie was up by lunch time and took the kids with Riley as they transported their gear over to the new hiding place. This gave Bongo and Roo time to settle down on the rough ground-sheets and sleep. They'd eaten a meal of porridge and that was all. Katie said she'll do better once they moved to 'grander lodgings'.

By evening Riley and Katie had moved everything to the old prospector's hut. Bongo suggested they should leave he and Roo there to get some sleep, then pick them up the next morning. Riley looked carefully at both men, then nodded. He wished them a good night sleep as he climbed on the back of one of the horses and headed off to be with his wife and kids.

The prospector's hut was hidden deep at the end of a gully, heavily overgrown with bushes. It once housed a lone gold prospector many years ago. Riley said he and his brothers brought food and a few bottles of beer to his camp on weekends. The boys listened to his stories of the early days of prospecting when the local aboriginals lived there in much larger numbers. He told of the violent clashes between the aboriginals and the farmers who had settled the region. Those were bad times when farmers would shoot and poison any aborigines on their land.

The old prospector said there were many times he would swap tobacco, flour and sugar for a leg of kangaroo meat from the surviving tribesmen. Both of Riley's parents had a soft spot for the quiet old man and looked after him as best they could. The old prospector eventually passed away when Riley was still a kid, he said.

The hut was big enough for the family to sleep at one end and it had a fireplace and table at the other. The dogs and the two wounded men would sleep outside under a bark lean-to. By lunch time the next day, the cattleman had finished building the lean-to and added two bench seats and sleeping mats, making it quite cosy. The dogs loved it.

When they arrived at their new lodgings, Katie asked the men to be careful with their rifles around the children. Both Bongo and Roo refused to leave their weapons beyond their reach. Having lived as warriors for so long now they felt uncomfortable without them.

Roo eventually asked Riley with 'mmm's' and gestures to oil his Gewehr and place it in a bag for him. It was useless now that he'd run out of ammunition for it. Instead he lay next to his artistically decorated AK47 with its replica Mrs. Sow and her piglets carved into its wooden stock.

Riley displayed his collection of captured kangaroo rifles. Roo carefully examined then picked one, a hard-hitting Ruger fitted with an expensive scope.

Although both men were wounded and needed plenty of rest and recuperation they insisted on doing their part. Each took turns to keep watch while Riley and Katie set up camp.

The next morning Riley was up before dawn taking his dogs to patrol the surrounding bush and to set rabbit traps on the approaches to the hut. That first day he kept watch from a hilltop that overlooked their hiding place. His traps were well hidden and he made sure the dogs stayed well away from them.

The following morning at their new camp, Bongo woke with a heavy head. His leg was so swollen that he couldn't move it. From the skills she'd learned from her father, Katie recognised what the problem was immediately.

“I'm sorry, Bongo, but that's blood poisoning. I've got no medicines for it so I'll have to use an old aboriginal remedy for it. My dad learned this from working on the aboriginal missions. There's a special bark that can penetrate the skin and counteract the poison. Then there is some clay in the creeks nearby that will draw the pus out.” She looked for Roo who was now able to walk around without feeling dizzy.

“Roo, can you and Bongo look after Elle and Harry for me again? I'll take the horse to gather what I need and be back in about two hours. There's plenty of tucker for the kids, just don't let Harry out of your sight for a minute.”

Roo nodded but Bongo was just too sick to care. Katie rounded up the mare left behind by Riley and set out into the desert scrub with a machete, shovel and some leather saddle bags.

By the time Katie returned, Riley was back at camp. He was talking with Roo and Bongo.

“I looked all over the place but saw no signs of them. I even went part way back to my farm, nothing there either. I don't like it one bit. Those Wilson's are up to something.”

“Riley, darling, I need your help,” Katie called. “I've got a sick fellow here and I need you to roast these bark pieces. Don't let them burn, just dry them out until they're brittle. I'll mix this clay up and then we can spread it over Bongo's leg.”

Katie had been trying to hide just how serious Bongo's injury really was. She had seen grown men and women die from injuries as small as a pimple that had turned septic. Bongo's blood poisoning was one that could easily kill him if not treated immediately. At her feet she could clearly see that Bongo was in severe pain. The commando scout's face was bathed in sweat and he was becoming delirious.

Katie pounded the dried bark and the clay into a fine powder. She added the ingredients to warm water then mixed it into a muddy paste.

“Bongo, this is going to feel nice and soothing so don't rub it off. I'll need to change it every hour so lie back and try to get some sleep.” The bullet had gone through his lower calf which was black and blue all the way down to his toes. A red line now travelled from his wound to the swollen gland in his groin. Katie gently applied the clay and wattle bark mixture to his hot and angry leg. She let it dry then eased his leg onto the blanket.

“Now just lie back and let it do it's job. I'll keep changing it until the swelling's gone.” Her eyes looked carefully at Bongo's bruised, fevered face then unconsciously leaned across to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. By evening the swelling was down and Bongo was asleep.

“Riles?” called Katie, brushing a wisp of stray hair from her face. “I'll need to stay up tonight to change Bongo's mud pack. Will you be OK tomorrow to let me sleep in?” She tried to sound pleasant but she was so tired that it sounded more like a demand.

“Sure, just don't wake me.” Riley smiled warmly at his wife. It wasn't the first time she'd done this for some poor stockman and his family. Many injured and sick visitors stayed overnight at their home while Katie treated them.

Although he'd never met her father, he'd sadly passed away when Katie was in her late teens, he accepted her healer role as part and parcel of who she was.

“Besides, Roo here is well enough to take on tomorrows patrol for me.”

Roo nodded, “Mm, yeah,” he said clearly, causing both Katie and Riley to stop and stare at him.

“Blimey, Roo, we're not used to you talking,” Riley said. He slapped him on the back as Katie left to put the children to bed. “Roo, do you want to sleep in here with me tonight? Katie is going to be busy and she'll wake you every time she puts mud on Bongo's leg. She'll want to sleep in the lean-to next to Bongo and the dogs anyway.”

Roo grabbed his sleeping gear in his one good hand and dragged it into the hut itself. He nodded to Katie, “Ta,” he grunted and smiled his thanks.

Katie looked at Riley and they raised their eyebrows in shared surprise. After twenty years without uttering a word of speech what on earth had changed in Roo to make him want to start now?

Both men were up at dawn. It was cold, mist lay across the hills and they could hear Katie talking softly to Bongo.

“How's he going, Katie? How's the swelling?” asked Riley rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“The swellings gone down nicely,” replied Katie. She noticed that Bongo was stirring so asked, “How does it feel, Bongo? Is it still on fire?”

Bongo was clearly tired but he replied in the positive. “I feel a lot better, Katie, and I'm hungry. That lump in my groin's better but my leg's still a bit stiff and sore. I think I can do the mud packs myself now too, thank you.”

“I'll put the mud bowl within reach,” Katie said, the relief obvious in her voice. “Riles, when the kids wake up don't let them jump all over me or Bongo, we both need our sleep now,” she said as she went straight to the warm bed Riley and Roo had just vacated.

Over breakfast Roo indicated he would do the first watch. He had his pistol in it's holster at his waist and his AK slung over his good arm. There was a set of binoculars slung around his neck and food in a small back pack which he had awkwardly dragged onto his back.

“Roo, I'll come out and relieve you at exact midday. Take Black Dog, he knows the way and he's the most reliable,” said Riley. “And stay off the path when you come to the big rock. I've hidden some rabbit traps in the grass there. Black Dog knows where they are, but just be careful.”

Roo grunted a primitive reply then clicked his fingers at Black Dog. Together they set off at a slow walk. It was a cool morning and Roo was excited to get back to the solitude of the bush once again.

“That Roo surprises me, Bongo. He hasn't spoken a word in twenty years and now he's chattering like a monkey. I wonder what it means?” Riley scratched his head as he began to prepare breakfast for his children, who were just starting to wake up.