by Lucy Walker
Judging by Mrs. Weston’s conversation in the morning she had measured up better than Mrs. Weston had anticipated. Still, Hal wasn’t going to be let off the shoestring; Appleton wasn’t going to support another family. That was clearly stated. If she came, she came as another member of the unpaid labouring class, with the distinction of being able to dine and wine with the family and sleep with the eldest son. And wear one plain gold band on her finger!
And how much did Hal want to be off the shoe-string?
Ah, that was the rub!
It was Hal’s defection that mattered!
Kate dozed off. Ennui laved her very limbs. In her half sleep the scent of the burning trees, the cultivated garden, the pine needles in the grove beside the house filled the air with such enchantment that even in her sleep she was filled with a nostalgic sadness that she must leave it all. The forest … its scents and solemn, still beauty was not for her. No matter how she thought around the situation, deep inside her she knew that what Hal himself had to offer was not good enough.
She heard someone walk along the veranda. Uncle Harry? Hal?
A brigade of soldiers?
Then the heavy boots stopped beside her. Then they went on and out of the wired door. They crunched up the gravel path of the garden.
She wanted the boots to stop, turn round. To come back. But her sleep was too heavy. She had grown to the shovel-backed cane chair and her hand was too heavy to lift.
The brigade of soldiers passed. It marched away into the forest.
It would not wait.
‘Why, Kate!’
This was Annabel.
‘Why, Kate! What were you dreaming? There are tears on your cheeks!’
Kate shook her head. Her cheeks felt funny. She put up her hand and wiped her eyes.
‘I dreamed someone went away without me.’
‘Someone?’
‘I don’t know who, Annabel. It just seemed to be someone I wanted. Someone who mattered very much I couldn’t see who it was.’
Annabel sat down beside Kate.
‘Oh, poor Kate. It’s those beastly men going off to play tennis and leaving you all the afternoon. That and Hal going up to Kattanup in the week-end. I do think it is too bad of him. I really do think Mother should speak to him.’
Kate looked at Annabel curiously.
‘Do you think that if he stayed because his mother made him stay that would make me happy, Annabel? No, I’m not worrying about that at all. The dream was just a silly one. It was meaningless. Goodness only knows what it meant or what caused it.’
‘I hope we haven’t made you sad, Kate. I feel as if we’re all so busy. There doesn’t seem time to sit down and get to know you. There’s always too much to do.’
‘Why do you do so much Annabel? Surely there are enough people around to help with the children?’
‘They worry Mother so. She has such fixed ideas about how they should behave. And she can’t stand noise. Her head aches for hours if she hears the children crying.’
Kate was at a loss. She didn’t like to say that not only Annabel but the two little girls seemed to force their lives into a rigid framework of behaviour, all on account of Mrs. Weston’s headaches.
‘Kate, you offered to help with the children this morning and I rather abruptly refused you. But I’ve been thinking all day … Kate, I feel dreadfully mean asking you to help me … but next week-end, could you … would you?’
‘Help mind the children? Of course I will, Annabel. I would love to help you.’
‘It’s not just that. I would like to go to Albany. For the week-end …’
Annabel broke off lamely.
Next week-end? Hal and Beatrix would be away too. They were going to Kattanup!
‘If only they were poor … or something,’ Kate thought. ‘I’d get so much pleasure in helping Annabel. But they’ve a house full of servants. Like Beatrix, I feel it is an imposition when they plot this sort of thing. This is what they do to Peg Castillon. It is Mrs. Weston’s tyranny, of course.’
‘Quite apart from minding the children, Annabel, I shall miss you awfully next week-end. Beatrix is going away too.’
‘She’s just doing it on purpose,’ Annabel said petulantly. ‘I know she wants to see John, but she knew I wanted to go to Albany. She knew someone would have to stay with the children … for Mother’s sake.’
Kate held her breath for a moment.
So it wasn’t only to herself they were cruel. They were cruel to one another. Hal’s determination to go to Kattanup was not only in contempt of her own presence at Appleton but also of Annabel and Beatrix. He and Beatrix had known all along that Annabel wanted to go to Albany.
Kate showed none of these feelings in her face.
‘You know, Annabel, I was wondering if I ought to go home. And I didn’t want to go. You see, this gives me an excuse to stay longer, after all.’
‘But Kate, why ought you to go home? Aren’t you enjoying yourself? We expected you to stay three weeks at least. Four if you could get the time off from your work.’
Kate remained silent. She stared out through the mesh fly-wire across the garden.
‘Hal was dreadfully tactless about that ring of Mother’s. I’m afraid he’s like that, Kate. I love Hal. He’s my dear brother, but somehow he’s got a tactless and inconsiderate streak…’
Kate laughed and put her hand on Annabel’s arm.
‘Annabel dear, I didn’t even like the ring very much. Please don’t tell your mother. I wouldn’t hurt her feelings. Do you know, I think the general reluctance on everyone’s part to take an irrevocable step about the ring was a general reluctance to take an irrevocable step about Hal and myself. I was as reluctant as anyone else. Shall we leave it at that, Annabel?’
‘Well if you would rather …’
‘In the meantime the fact of your going to Albany gives me a beautiful excuse to stay longer.’
‘I suppose you want to know why I want to go to Albany next week-end?’
‘Not if it is your own affair, Annabel.’
‘Tom does his dental practice on a circuit. He is in Albany next week-end. I must see him … about all sorts of things. The children are legally his to begin with … if I miss him next week-end he may be two months out on the circuit.’
Kate knew by the strained quality in Annabel’s voice that it mattered very much to her that she should see Tom.
‘If the whole homestead moves out I’ll be here to mind the children, Annabel. Don’t worry about it any more.’
Annabel stood up and smoothed down the fold in her floral pinafore.
‘You’re one in a million, Kate. Hal will never pick another one as good.’
Kate wished, rather wryly, that they wouldn’t constantly refer to Hal’s propensity for ‘picking them’. She could not avoid the feeling of being one of a bunch.
Beatrix expressed her indignation of the arrangement when she came into Kate’s room later.
‘Kate, I wouldn’t do it. Why should you? Of course, I want Annabel to go to Albany. She could stay a month if she wanted, but not if it’s dependent on you minding the kids. She actually toyed with the idea of asking Peg Castillon to come out. Peg would have loved it. Peg’s the sort of silly goat who would thankfully mind Annabel’s children for the privilege of being at Appleton a day or two. With or without Hal.’
‘I hope you don’t think of me that way.’
‘Of course I don’t. You’re doing it for Annabel’s sake. Can’t you see that Annabel makes a prison of Appleton herself by that “consideration for Mother” attitude of hers. Mother will exploit it to the last dregs. Sugar and Baby can manage quite well with Judity for two days. Mother needn’t even see them. But she would see them, of course. She’d do it just to make a martyr of herself.’
Kate said nothing.
There was a long silence.
‘I suppose you think we’re all mad,’ Beatrix said petulantly.
‘No, I don’t,’ Kate said gent
ly. ‘I think it is such a pity none of you feels free to do what you want to do. I’m just sorry I can’t do something about helping you all.’
Beatrix sat in the easy chair and kicked the floor with the heel of her boot.
‘Trouble here, trouble there. Nothing but trouble on Appleton. I wish to heaven I knew what Hal and Alan Castillon were up to. Seems like Alan will be in Kattanup for the week-end too.’
Everything in Australia stands still at the hour of sunset.
The branches and leaves of the jarrahs might have been painted against the sky. The pines were like brushwork. Even the long yellow stalks of the oats stood motionless.
The world held its breath when the sun went down. An epilogue in prayer to a departing day.
Kate was trying very hard not to be unhappy.
She was walking slowly along the wire fence of a stubble paddock. Vaguely she was taking an evening walk towards the jam house. She was startled out of her reverie by a sudden commotion on the far side of the paddock.
She recognised the ensuing hullabaloo as the awe-inspiring bellowing of the enraged bull. Across the stubble, clouded in black sand and flying dust, the bull was careering towards the track.
Kate felt slightly sick. There was a five-wired fence between herself and the bull. Did five wires stand up to this kind of onslaught?
A thunder of hooves came through the pine grove. A great bay horse pounded on to the track and pulled up sideways against the fence. Bellew simultaneously leapt into the stubble paddocks brandishing his stockwhip. The lash whipped across the evening air with resounding cracks. Again and again the whip cracked.
The bull pulled up. He was less than twenty yards away. Almost as fast as the crack of his whip Bellew had retreated the few yards to the fence and vaulted it, one hand on the fence post.
It was all so quick Kate still didn’t know whether she had been in danger or not.
The bull came on now. He was still angry and his head was down. He pulled up at the wire fence and began pawing at the ground and bellowing as if hell itself was let loose. Clearly, however, he had no intention of rushing the fence.
Bellew was on his horse again and looked as if he would move off without a word. This time it was Kate who was quick. She caught hold of the bridle near the bit.
‘Thank you, Bellew. Was I in danger, or was I just frightened?’
He looked across the paddock through half-closed eyes. Then he looked down at Kate. He took off his wide-brimmed hat.
‘I think you were just frightened. However, the bull might have injured himself. Certainly the fence …’
For the first time Kate had heard Bellew speak clearly. She thought she guessed why he preferred to remain silent. His voice was deep, ponderous, and would have out-blimped Colonel Blimp in accent. No! Bellew’s voice would not have gone down in Australia. Not with the Micks and Bills and Burnses of the out-back. Quite definitely it didn’t belong to a boundary rider’s calling.
He smiled down at her. Almost as if he guessed her thoughts his hands began to tremble. Kate kept her hold on the bridle.
‘How often do you come into the homestead?’ she asked. ‘I thought boundary riders were always obscurely over the hills and far away.’
‘The colt’s got away, ma’am. The fences are down, which means a brumby mob came in close and helped the horse to break through. The colt cost Mr. Weston a lot of money. He’s for the stud. I’ve tracked the wild horses into the gully the other side of Blackwood. If we can get a good team out before dawn we’ve a good chance of getting the colt back. I came in with the news. I’m going over to the school hall now to hurry the men back.’
‘Will they all go out, Bellew?’
‘I’m over to Allandale after I’ve been to the school hall. Mr. Benallen went through two hours ago and if I’m lucky I’ll catch him before he turns his horse out. That was Hill-Billy he rode in with you last night. That’s his best horse for the ranges.’
‘He’ll go with you?’
‘He’ll lead the team, ma’am. He always does.’
Kate dropped the bridle.
So Rick Benallen had gone through two hours ago. The brigade of soldiers walking along Appleton veranda while she had been asleep?
She stood back as Bellew turned his horse’s head.
‘Thank you, Bellew,’ she said gravely. He touched the brim of his hat and rode on down the track.
Kate turned back towards the homestead.
How still and quiet everything was now! Even the bull stood still. She wondered if women were allowed in the hunt for the colt. She would ask Beatrix.
Chapter Three
A terrific thump on her bedroom door!
‘Okay, Kate!’
It was Hal and she heard his boots retreating down the passage. It was pitch dark and the luminous hands of her clock read four-thirty. Hal and Beatrix had agreed to let Kate join some part of the hunt for the colt. If Bellew’s report was correct the brumby mob was somewhere down the bed of the Blackwood River. It was not hard to find them in midsummer. They went where there was water and feed. They were in a good place to be driven straight up the valley into a narrow gorge running into broken country north of the main stream of the river.
The gorge, faulted granite country, ran into the extreme western end of the Benallens’ property.
The capture should be simple. However, as the country was partly forest and partly broken stone, only those expert in riding such territory could be allowed to take part. Clearly Kate would be of no use. Beatrix agreed to ride with her to the Benallens, where Rick was to join the party with two men, and from there Kate and Beatrix would go, by slow route, to the head of the gorge. If the men were successful in driving the horses into that trap Beatrix and Kate would see the cutting out of the colt from the mob, and his capture.
Kate dressed quickly. It was cold, and she tucked a muffler inside her riding jacket. In the kitchen there was tea and hot scones. Riley and the cook had been up betimes.
There was a sense of excitement in the group in the kitchen. Hal, Mick, Bill and another man were spurred. A servant named Sixpence and a full-blooded aboriginal Kate had not seen before wore ordinary moleskin trousers but had bare feet. They all wore tight kangaroo-skin jackets.
Beatrix wore slacks with high tight leggings. But no spurs.
‘You never can tell,’ she said. ‘We might have a run for our money. It’s one’s legs that can suffer more than anything else when racing through forest.’
‘Don’t I know?’ said Kate ruefully. ‘I haven’t forgotten Hal’s initiation into riding with him. Was it only a week ago?’
‘You’ll have to stay out of it Kate,’ Beatrix said firmly. ‘Nobody will have time to pick up fallen bodies. When the men get on the hunt after a horse nothing matters but the horse. Those that fall out stay out.’
‘I’ll be good,’ Kate said over her scalding cup of tea.
‘And you’ll ride Darkie …’ Hal ordered. ‘He can’t or won’t hurdle. So that will curb your ambition, my girl.’
‘Quite content,’ Kate said meekly. ‘At least Darkie is obedient … and fast.’
They clumped outside. The night was velvet black with every star a brilliant light. Nowhere in all the world was there a night sky so brilliant.
A farm-hand was holding the horses for Kate and Beatrix. They mounted, but already the men were away down the track past the jam house and up through the stubble paddock. The girls rode along quietly behind them.
‘Hal will leave the gates open,’ Beatrix said. ‘We’ll take it in turns to close them.’
‘Who was the black man?’ Kate asked.
‘That’s Gummy Ray. He’s the best tracker in the district. He can pick up the tracks without dismounting. And he’s the world’s wonder on a horse.’
‘As good as Rick Benallen and Hal?’
‘You can’t compare them. When a black man is a rider he is not a man … he’s a horse too. He does nothing right, by our standards. But the hor
se will do astonishing things with him. He’s a crazy rider … yet careful of his horse. No, you just can’t compare the riding of a black man and a white. One is civilised and one is not. That’s all there is to it.’
They rode through several paddocks, each with a gate to be closed. At last they were cantering along the forest track that Kate had first met with on her previous ride to the turn-off at Benallens’.
As they cantered down the valley to Allandale homestead the team of men moved off from the yards. Rick and his men must have been ready waiting for the Appleton team. He had two of his own men with him and a grey-haired, lean, wiry man called Strong. This was the overseer from Arundel.
The introductions in the dark were perfunctory and by the light of a hurricane lamp. Rick swung it across to Beatrix.
‘Mother will give you girls some more tea,’ he said. ‘If you don’t hear from us we’ll see you at the top of the gorge. Don’t forget to keep out of sight, Beatrix. And don’t let Kate get off Darkie. There’ll be mares as well as a fighting stallion in that mob.’
‘Okay, Rick.’
‘All right fellers … let’s away.’
They rode up the orchard towards the fence on which Kate had sat and talked to Rick. She could not see them in the dark but she knew that all of them had cleared the fence.
‘I suppose they know the district so well … they don’t have to see to go over the fence.’
‘Not on the horses they’re riding. Every one of them’s got the best he could muster.’
The girls hitched their horses outside the kitchen door. Mrs. Benallen was waiting for them.
‘You needn’t go till daybreak,’ she said. ‘Even then there’s plenty of time.’
They sat around the kitchen fire, their toes in the oven, drank large quantities of tea and talked about the day’s hunting.
‘It doesn’t often happen,’ Beatrix said.
‘Not often enough,’ Mrs. Benallen said with a smile. ‘If there’s anything the men really like it’s a brumby hunt. They like the danger of it.’
‘How real is the danger?’
‘A broken leg at full gallop in the gullies could mean anything …’ Mrs. Benallen said cheerfully.
