would be simple, but the sun had already left the bottom of the cleft and the shadowy gloom beneath them seemed … unwelcoming somehow.
She watched Hamish disappear, and when he gave the signal helped Rex haul the reinforced rope back up. They hooked the two backpacks, one with medical gear and the other with the stretcher and stabilising equipment, onto the rope, then added another which, Rex explained, held emergency rations.
‘There’s a little gas stove so you’ll be able to have a hot cuppa later tonight,’ he said. ‘No fires, though, it’s a national park.’
Kate nodded, though she was certain park rangers would forgive a small fire should it be needed for warmth or survival.
She watched as Rex lowered the rope. Hamish would undo the gear, then send the rope back up, and it would be her turn.
Strong arms caught and steadied her as she found her feet, then Hamish unclipped her harness and signalled to Rex he could haul it back up. But the pilot was obviously anxious for he repeated all his warnings and instructions about contact before Hamish finally signed off.
He reached down and swung one of the backpacks onto his shoulders, then lifted the other one.
‘That’s mine,’ Kate told him. ‘If you want to be gallant, take the smaller bag.’
He grumbled to himself, but held the medical equipment pack up for her so she could slip her arms into the straps.
‘We’ve a way to walk,’ he warned, and Kate grinned at him.
‘My legs may not be as long as yours, but they’ll get me anywhere we need to go, so lead on.’
He muttered something that sounded like ‘damned independent women,’ then turned his attention to the GPS, marking their current position as Landmark One, then keying in the position of the injured man.
‘It’s about eight hundred yards in that direction,’ he said, showing Kate the route map that had come up on the small screen.
They set off, picking their way through the wide-leafed palms that gave the gorge its name, clambering over the rocks littering the banks of the narrow creek that had cut through the sandstone over millions of years to form the deep but narrow valley. The creek was dry now, at the end of winter, but, come the wet season in late October, and it would roar to life, marks on the cliffs showing how high it could rise.
Darkness was falling swiftly, but they’d left the creek-bank and were walking on more stable ground, the light from their torches picking out any traps for their feet.
‘It shouldn’t be far now,’ Hamish told her. ‘I’ll try a “coo-ee.”’
The thought of a Scot using the Australian bush call made Kate smile, but Hamish’s ‘coo-ee’ was loud and strong, echoing back to them off the cliffs. Then they heard it, faint but clear, definitely a reply.
‘Well, at least he’s conscious,’ Hamish said, reaching back to take Kate’s hand to guide her in the right direction—hurrying now they knew they were close to their patient.
The man was lying propped against the base of the cliffs, an overhang above him forming a shallow, open cave. A very young man, haggard with pain, trying hard to hold back tears he no doubt felt were unmanly.
‘Digger said he’d let someone know, but I thought he was just saying it to make himself feel better about leaving me,’ the lad whispered, his voice choking and breaking on the words.
‘Well, he did the job and here we are,’ Hamish told him. ‘One doctor and one nurse, all present and correct. I’m Hamishand this is Kate, who’d barely set foot in Crocodile Creek when we whisked her off on this adventure.’
‘Crocodile Creek? You’re from Crocodile Creek?’
He sounded panicky and Kate knelt beside him and took his hand, feeling heat beneath his dry skin.
‘We’re the Remote Rescue Service,’ she said gently. ‘And now you know us, who are you and what have you done to yourself?’
She brushed her free hand against his cheek, confirming her first impression of a fever, then