Once back at the homestead, the day continued without incident. Luke was a little down in the mouth after Jane’s departure, but a discussion started by Tilly about the bats diverted his thoughts from his missing sweetheart. He calculated how long the photos would take to be developed and returned, and had recourse again to the reference books to pore over and re-examine the information it contained.

‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ Sophie said placidly. ‘This is the north, mate. It’s pointless wishing for speed in anything.’

‘I know. I just want—’ The ring of the phone cut off the rest of his words as he bounced to his feet. ‘That’ll be Jane. She said she’d ring after seven.’

He returned shortly, beaming. ‘She got the film in to the chemist. It’ll be on its way on tomorrow’s plane.’

‘That’s great,’ Tilly said. She calculated flights. ‘So you should have the pics back by the mail after next. My mum’ll be here next week. Maybe we could take her to see the bats, Luke? Just in case they’re a major find that’ll make you famous.

Then she could tell all her friends that she knew you when you were just a humble ranger.’

‘You’ll keep.’ He wagged a finger at her. ‘There’s lots of old fence wire still to roll.’

‘I see your botanist has finally cleared out,’ Matt interjected curtly. ‘Run outta weeds, has he?’

‘Gone?’ Sophie looked up. ‘Did you collect his camping fees? We are charging him, you know.’

‘You better send a bill then,’ Matt sneered. ‘He never stopped, just roared through.’

‘He hasn’t gone,’ Tilly defended the absent Connor. ‘At least only for a few days. He said he was heading down to Spadgers Creek, on an orchid hunt I think. I noticed his camp’s still there.’ Better to keep it vague, she thought; it might prevent further questions. The idea seemed to work, for Matt simply grunted and, to her relief, let the subject drop.

The following night was a Thursday. Tilly again found herself running the slide show for the campers. The bird names she now mostly knew by heart, needing to call upon Luke only to differentiate between such species as the greater and lesser egrets. When she had run through them, he slipped another loaded holder into the projector and clicked the first slide into place to display an emu-apple tree.

‘Okay,’ Luke addressed the audience in his easy way. ‘Anyone recognise this?’

A man in the audience gruffly sang out the name. ‘Very good,’ Luke said. ‘Now, some facts about it – anybody? And this includes you, Ranger Tilly. What do you know about its uses, timber strength, seeds?’

‘Um,’ Tilly hesitated, hoping she’d got the scrap of lore right. ‘Its name comes from the fact that its fruit has to pass through an emu’s digestive system before the seed will germinate?’