‘Now and then,’ Sophie said. ‘Last year some idiot was up-country after we’d closed the camp down. Wasn’t supposed to be anyone on the place and we got this radio message to say he was crook and needed help.’ She shook her head disgustedly. ‘Other side of the river of course, and we’d had early storms so the crossings were flooded. The boys had to winch him across and use the wet-weather tracks to get him out. Took eighteen hours all up.’

‘Most of ’em up to our knees in mud, being eating alive by mozzies,’ Luke added feelingly. ‘The ground was too soft for the grader and his mate was a bloody useless driver. Damn near overturned the vehicle in the river, then stalled it just as it reached the bank. It sank like a stone. Had to leave it and bring ’em out in our vehicle.’

‘I don’t remember that,’ Tilly interrupted. ‘You’re sure it was last year? I didn’t hear a word about it.’

‘You were in Darwin,’ Sophie said. ‘And by the time you got back the cyclone was coming in, remember? So we had more to think about.’

‘Of course. What was wrong with the sick man?’

‘Dunno.’ Luke shrugged. ‘Bellyache. The doc thought it might’ve been a bleeding ulcer. We never heard because he never came back or contacted us.’

‘Yeah?’ Connor sounded surprised. ‘Not even to collect his vehicle?’

‘The river got that,’ Sophie said. ‘I daresay it’s somewhere at the bottom of the Arafura Sea now. You can tell people until you’re blue in the face, but they see the country in the dry and they won’t believe what a metre or more of rain’ll do to it. Ulcer or not, we saved his life and his mate’s, because no way would they have made it out without the boys’ efforts.’

Connor grunted. ‘And no thanks?’

‘Not a word.’ Sophie shook her head. ‘Course, they shouldn’t have been here in the first place. Everyone who visits is supposed to check in. We’re not a charity. There’s no free camping allowed.’

‘So how did they get across the river?’

She shrugged. ‘Came in from the east on a station road, I expect. Probably shooters. There’s hundreds of miles of old tracks on Binboona, put in for mining exploration back in the fifties. Hunters can sneak in and use ’em and be gone again before we know they’re here. They come after pigs, buffalo – even crocs although they’re protected. Of course we don’t allow firearms,’ Sophie said angrily, ‘but it happens. We can’t be everywhere.’

‘No, of course not,’ Connor touched a line on the map. ‘This track here will get me across the river? I might poke down to the coast tomorrow. It’s mangroves, I suppose – any beach at all?’