When the shadow of the roof stood squarely beneath it, the others joined Tilly in the shade, mopping sweaty faces and drinking hugely from the water canister. The silence after the racket of the petrol motors was bliss. The twittering of small birds fell busily into the stillness and the sudden caw of crows overhead was as loud as a shout. Matt returned silently out of the bush, a shovel on one shoulder and his boots caked with mud. The Nutt was perhaps a long stone’s throw from the camp site and the pump floated on a raft tethered to the bank which, just there, was too steep and scrubby to access with a vehicle. The wet season saw the pump’s removal to a shed at the homestead and its annual reinstallation, Tilly had gathered, was a difficult task. Matt sat down with a whoof of relief and Tilly passed him his lunch.

Sophie’s head tilted as she listened to the rush of water hitting the tank bottom. ‘Seems it’s still working then?’

‘Yep. Took a while to prime. Doesn’t help there’s a croc slide right beside where we put her in. Let’s hope the noise scares the bugger off.’

Tilly gasped and looked quickly at the mud on his boots. ‘You will be careful, Matt!’

He ducked his head, smiling his brief smile at her. ‘Course.’ He glanced at the painted signs propped against the tin wall. ‘You’ve got a few done then.’ It was like Matt to shift the conversation away from himself.

‘Uh-huh. Connor dropped me off a couple of hours back. He seems very keen on the place, doesn’t he?’ She looked at Sophie. ‘Are there really tree orchids here? I’ve never seen any.’

‘There are.’ Her cousin nodded. ‘Not that you’d notice them unless they were flowering. I’ve seen some at the springs up near the caves. Very ordinary-looking plants, hard to spot too, in that they grow high up in the fork of trees. When they flower you smell them long before you notice them. Their flowers are mostly small too.’

Tilly sighed. ‘I’d love to see one. Are they rare?’

‘Well, not common anyway. Connor’ll have to cover a fair bit of country and he’ll need good eyesight to find ’em.’

‘He has binoculars.’ Tilly folded her lunchwrap and stowed it away. ‘And a very fancy-looking camera in his vehicle. Maybe he’ll get some photos.’

‘Yeah, of weeds,’ Luke teased. ‘The new invasion from the north creeping south to strangle the native born. Look out, Mitchell grass! You and your mates better head for the hills.’

She gave him a withering look. ‘You wouldn’t laugh if your precious birds were threatened by something from overseas.’