Chapter 7

When the trio returned I noticed Lois carrying something.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t want to collect actual birds. I take pictures.”

“With that? What is it?”

“It’s a digital camera. A Casio QV-10. It came out in ‘95. The screen measures 46mm from corner to corner. It has a pivoting lens. No film. Photos are stored in an electronic memory, which holds up to 96 color images and it cost over a kilobuck. I got a dozen good shots!” Lois responded. “You were right, Gordy. There’s a group of fairy wrens. At least two males and half a dozen females and some young.” She ran down.

“You look a lot better, Aggie,” Reg added.

“Thanks. I feel better.”

“I took a spray from each shrub,” Al contributed.

“Boy! I could’ve stayed in the Alice!”

“And in the AC much of the time.”

“Not much, but some. This desert really sucks it out of you.”

“Yes,” said Al. “I’d bet it’s 40. And it’s only a bit past noon. By the way, I think there’s a bunch of bilbies under that bush. I saw three holes that looked likely. Lois took shots. They don’t look like snake...”

“I’ll vouch for that!”

“ ... and they’re too big for dunnarts.”

“There’s a lump towards the top of these acacias,” Lois said. “I took a shot of it. It looks like a boobook, but we’re outside their territory.”

“I think we need better map training,” Al said. “These beasts just don’t know where they’re supposed to be! Something must be done! I’d write my MPP, but she can’t read.”

“That’s not funny!”

“Oops.”

“Anyway,” Reg noted, “We need to get Aggie back to base; and we need to get back, too.”

“I’ve got a suggestion.”

“You’re on.”

“First, we see how much water we’ve got. We split the total in five. Then, you three start out, with me and Aggie following...”

“Why you?” Lois interjected. “I could stay with her!”

“OK. You pick her up. If you can, you can do it. But if Aggie has another bad spell, I can lift and carry her.”

“You win.”

“It’s not a contest. Anyway, when you get back to camp, whoever feels best grabs another bottle of water and doubles back. That’s my plan.”

“It’s a good one,” said Al. “I’ve about a third of my water.”

“About the same here,” said Reg.

“I’ve a bit more, nearly half. And I’m sorry, Gordy, you were right.”

“No big deal. OK. Al, you and Reg give me a little water, Lois a bit more. I’ll split with Aggie.”

They started out. I waited and then got Aggie vertical. “Light-headed?”

“No. A little thirsty.”

“That’s OK. If you begin feeling flushed, though, tell me immediately.”

“Right.”

We began walking. It seemed a very slow pace, but I knew trying to accelerate would be bad for her.

“It was nice of Al to get clippings for you. Really thoughtful.”

“Yes it was. He’s smart and thoughtful. Lois should marry him off.”

“What?”

“Lois screens all the females at Black Mountain, didn’t you know?”

“What?”

“Too old, too married, engaged, hunting, available. I think those are the categories.”

“And the men?”

“Available and unavailable. She may have had a bad experience with Al.”

“I doubt it. He knows that she’s bi, but he didn’t seem negative about her.”

The chatting seemed to help, but I brought us to a halt. “Just two swallows,” I said, proffering the bottle.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Are you OK?”

“Not dizzy. Not nauseous. Still quite hot.”

“True. Over 40; and that’s about as high as one’s body can cope with.”

“Really?”

“Let’s move a bit, I’ll talk as we do so.” We moved a half-dozen paces and I said “I think the hottest body temp is a bit over 42, but I read that it’s been measured at over 57 in Death Valley in the US and at over 50 in Oodnadatta. If it’s 40 or more here, our bodies are working hard to keep our temps down. That’s what sweating does, we cool by evaporation.”

“I was flushed and giddy.”

“Not enough water. Too much heat.”

“Where are we?”

“I presume you mean in terms of our trek? I think we’re a bit over halfway. We’re following the others’ tracks. Oops ... pardon...” I flopped onto my knees, dropping my hat to the ground to my right. “Got her!”

“What?”

“Mama scorpion.”

“Mama?”

“Carrying some scorplings.”

“Please tell me what you’re talking about.”

“After scorpions are born, the mother carries the brood on her back until their first moulting, sometimes longer. Some people refer to these as scorpion larvae, but that’s not the case. Immature scorpions are like smaller adults, so they are called nymphs, colloquially, scorplings.”

“So...”

“So, I’ve a specimen with her brood. If I can get them into a specimen container.”

I did, using my largest vinyl jar. “Let’s move on a bit.”

“I hate this sand!”

There’s a Moroccan tale that explains the Sahara,” I said. “It seems that many years ago all the area was a garden. But, because every time a lie was told a grain of sand was created, nearly all of North Africa has been covered. The oases that spot the desert are the remnants of the original garden.”