Chapter 6
The tense alarm in Millie’s tone makes me turn. The big white dog is moving towards me.
“Angel! Stay!” It’s Mitch this time. Millie’s voice has alerted them. “Don’t move, Robbie. Stay perfectly still. Like I said, she don’t like strangers.”
I’ve never owned a dog and don’t know anything about them. But I have no sense that this animal poses a threat to me. Everyone seems tense, except me. I find myself crouching and holding out my open hand. At once the animal’s demeanour changes. The dog sits. I stand and walk slowly towards it.
“Robbie!” It’s dad. “Don’t be stupid!”
I ignore him. The beautiful animal lets me stroke her head.
“Struth! Never seen nothin’ like that. You got some sort of a gift, mate?” asks Wally. “You one of those dog whisperers or somethin’?”
“I don’t know,” I reply.
“Thought you said you were no good with animals,” says Millie.
“Better put the leash on him now, Millie. No tellin’ if he might change his mind and turn nasty.”
Millie disappears around the corner of the house. Angel stays put, eyes fixed on me.
“OK, Robbie, we’d better head off if we’re going to get to the camping spot before dark.”
“Wally has drawn you a bit of a mud map to get you there,” says Mitch helpfully.
We walk to the front of the ute and Wally spreads his map on the bonnet.
“It’s all pretty straight forward,” he explains. “The only tricky bit is this fork in the track.” He jabs a big finger at a point on the paper where the road forms a Y-shape. He’s drawn a thick X on one part of the Y. “You’ll know when you’re there,” he explains. “There’s a fairly big tree.”
“A red gum?” interrupts dad.
Yeah, a red gum. How’d you know that?”
“Lucky guess. Plenty of them around these parts,” says dad.
Millie returns with a leather leash and slips it over Angel’s head. Angel doesn’t resist.
“Anyway,” Wally continues, “it’s probably in flower right now so you won’t miss it. The two roads go either side of it. Take the track to the right. You’ll get to the camping spot. It’s about two kilometres from there. Don’t take the left track – it goes higher up the mountain, almost to the peak of Flashing Ridge.”
“Why can’t we go up there?” I ask. “Is the road dangerous?”
“No,” answers Wally. “The road’s fine, it’s just that folks don’t seem to enjoy it up there. Flashing Ridge is what the white fellas call that mountain. My mob calls it Yilkgawu-mirrin’s Place.”
“Who’s that?”
“Yilkgawu-mirrin, the storm spirit. She’s angry, she is. Her voice is thunder and her weapon is lightning. It’s a bad place for people. She doesn’t like visitors that one. A bit like our Angel here – well, ‘til you come along, anyway.”
We all laugh and look at Angel. The white dog is looking at us intently as if following the conversation.
“Weather can turn bad pretty quick up there,” adds Mitch. “Only been up once myself, and I’ve lived on this property for five or so years. You won’t see me going back. Lightning storm freaked me out something bad. Wally’s mob and I don’t agree on a lot of stuff regarding this land, but that’s one area they won’t get an argument from me. Stay away from Flashing Ridge.”
Wally gives Mitch a knowing nod of agreement.
“Too bad, though,” Mitch continues, “it’s one heck of a beautiful spot. I didn’t hang around long enough to wet a line but I could tell the fishing would be something special. The lake is clear and there’s a view to the other side of the country. And a tree, almost the size of the mountain itself. Well, I’m exaggerating a bit, but yep, a beautiful spot.”
“You wonder how these stories start, don’t you?” muses dad.
“Well, there’s a bit of truth in every story,” replies Wally, “but this one isn’t as old as most. Hundred, maybe hundred and fifty years ago an old lady lost someone on that mountain. When she died her spirit entered a storm cloud and now she just floats around up there watchin’ out for him, or something like that. There are a few stories, all of them a bit different. And like I said,” he adds ominously, “she doesn’t like strangers.”
Dad and I raise our eyebrows and give each other a quizzical look.
“Hah,” laughs Mitch. “You two could be twins!”
“Get in, Robbie,” says dad as Millie reappears. “We’d better go.”
Half expecting another big Mitch bear hug dad quickly hops in the ute.
“See you on your way back,” says Mitch.
“Have a good time, Mr Chess Captain,” says Millie cheekily. I don’t even mind being teased by her. Wow! Oh, there I go again.
“Good luck chasing those barrels,” I call back. “Don’t get run over.” And we drive off towards the mountain.
“You OK, son?” dad asks after a few minutes. “What was that with the dog?”
“Yeah, I’m alright. I don’t know. I just had the feeling that there was no danger. Sorry if I frightened you.”
“Don’t worry about me, mate,” he smiles, reaching over and slapping me on the leg. “I’m really impressed. We all were.”
I know it’s coming, but half a minute goes by before he says it.
“Even Millie.”
“Dad!”
He laughs and I try not to by changing the subject.
“So Mitch doesn’t own this place?”
“No,” dad replies. He looks thoughtful. “The owners live in the city. Mitch is the manager. I do all the accounting and Mitch works through me if he needs anything. In fact, Mitch doesn’t even know who the owners are.”
The property is amazing, huge and thick with green grass. As the road gradually rises we talk about fishing and possum spotting and other things we’ll be doing over the coming days. Then, looking ahead I see a single, almost-black cloud floating in an otherwise perfect blue sky. Suddenly the cloud and sky beneath it are split by a flash of lightning quickly followed by a sound like an explosion.
“It’s just over the next rise,” says dad excitedly. “I wonder if it hit something.”
He slows down but keeps driving. “According to Wally’s map the road should divide just up ahead.”
Then we see it. A huge red gum has fallen across the track leading to the campsite. To the right of the felled tree is a twenty metre drop and to the left we have the choice of impenetrable bush or the track to Flashing Ridge.
We look at the path ahead and consider our options.
“Let’s get a closer look then,” suggests dad. We get out of the ute and walk towards the tree. Dad lights another cigarette. “We’ll need a tractor with a lot of horse power to move that out of the way,” he says.
He checks his phone and frowns. “No reception. We can’t call Mitch. If we turn around and go back it’ll be too dark to do anything. We’d have to spend the night at the farm.”
“No, Dad”, I protest quickly. “We only have three nights here. I don’t want to spend one of them in a house full of strangers…” then I think of Millie, “…unless we really have to, that is.”
“Me neither,” he agrees.
After a while dad asks with a cynical smile, “What do you make of all that talk about lightning gods?”
“What did Wally call him?” I ask. “Yilk something?”
“Yilkgawu-mirrin,” dad answers, “And it’s her, not him.” I’m quietly impressed that he could so quickly recall the strange word.
“Well, remember what you’d tell me when I was a kid and I would hide under my bed during storms. You’d say, Don’t be scared, Robbie – it’s only noise.”
Dad laughs. “Yeah I did say that.” But then we both look at the fallen gum that blocks our way. I’m sure dad has the same thought as I do – It was more than noise that dropped this big piece of timber.
Putting my fears to the side, I swallow hard. “Let’s pay a little
visit to Yilkgawu-mirrin.”
“That’s the spirit,” dad nods approvingly, laughing at the wit of his own pun. But although he is smiling his eyes are fixed unblinkingly on the big tree that has been split perfectly down the centre.