by Paula Boer
The thought of Ben having to break up his breeding stock dulled the day for Louise. “I wish there was a way you could keep them all. When do they go?”
“The agent is organising an auction for autumn. He says there’s no point doing one when everyone’s working hard through summer. Between seasons is the best time to sell the farm and machinery. Some of the stock will go to market soon. Dad’s best stud bulls will wait until the sale. The whole thing stinks. Dad goes around cursing everything and even Mum doesn’t say much these days.” Ben swigged on his water bottle and offered Louise a homemade oatmeal biscuit.
After finishing their break the friends mounted up and headed back towards the Dalrymple River. Trotting side by side, Louise thought back over the years since she had first started riding with Ben. She knew her ability had improved. She had also learnt more about the terrain, plants, and animals around her. Seeing a fallen log ahead she urged Honey into a canter, clearing the obstacle in a smooth jump.
Ben followed, whooping with glee. “Honey has really come on. She cleared that like a real showjumper. I think Snip thought it was going to eat him. Maybe I should get jumping lessons from you.”
Even though Ben was only joking Louise warmed to the praise. She suggested a race along the riverbank. At Ben’s agreement she gave Honey her head. Although Snip’s long legs made him faster over flat ground, Honey was more agile on the twisting track between the rocks. Louise pulled up, panting for breath. “I think that was a tie.”
“You always say that.” Ben rode Snip into the water and let him drink. The horse stretched his head down and splashed his muzzle in the cool stream.
Louise watched as the gelding swallowed with big gulps. “Honey doesn’t seem interested even though Snip seems really thirsty. I’m surprised he’s so relaxed. Isn’t this near where that snake spooked him ages ago?”
Ben looked around. “Yeh, we’re almost at Wombat Rock. Let’s find the way in to Harry’s hut.”
After turning up the track near the message tree where they left notes for the old hermit, Ben zigzagged his horse at the walk, peering into the shrubs. “Here’s a track. It’s not hidden at all. That’s unusual.”
Riding up next to Ben, Louise could clearly see the path through the trees. “I wonder if Harry forgot to cover his way? I don’t remember ever seeing this track before.”
“I hope he’s okay. He didn’t seem well when he visited Eve.”
Louise raised her eyebrows. “That was ages ago. Surely he’d be over the flu or whatever by now, especially with his knowledge of herbal medicines?”
“I’m sure the track’s going in the right direction. Let’s follow it.” Ben urged Snip into a trot, ducking branches as they wove between the trees.
The path remained clear as it rose over the ridge. Descending to the next valley Louise admired the view through the branches, glimpsing the highway in the far distance. A flock of crows flew overhead, cawing to each other as they skimmed the treetops.
Ben pivoted in the saddle to talk to Louise. “This is definitely the right track. I remember Harry leading me here after the pig gouged my leg. Snip knows it too from the way he’s walking. I can’t believe we’ve never seen such an obvious trail before.”
As they entered the deserted clearing where Harry had built his home, Louise thought he must be away foraging. There was never any telling where or when he could be found. “Maybe that’s why the trail was open. He’ll be back soon. Shall we wait or leave him a note?”
A huge mound of earth had been piled up on the other side of the clearing. As Ben walked across to inspect it a cloud of flies rose in a buzz. “Louise! Come and help!”
Wondering what had happened, Louise jumped off Honey and ran over to where Ben had dropped Snip’s reins and descended into the hole. Before she reached the diggings Ben’s head appeared and he waved her away. “Tie the horses up over at Jenny’s rail.”
Confused, Louise continued walking. “What’s up?”
Ben shielded Louise from looking into the hole. “Jenny’s dead. Harry’s collapsed. Get some water, quick.”
“What?” Not understanding what Ben was saying Louise couldn’t help peering into the pit. Jenny lay at the base of an enormous trench, her legs stiff and neck twisted at an odd angle. Her rump had been partially covered with soil. Harry’s body slumped over her, a shovel lying beneath him.
Ben descended back into the hole and rolled Harry over. After feeling his neck for a pulse Ben choked back a sob. “We’re too late. He must have died trying to bury Jenny.”
Chapter 14
Ben grabbed Snip’s reins and led him across to the railing where Harry usually tied Jenny. Although he had seen many dead animals he had never seen a dead person. The image of Harry’s lifeless eyes staring at the sky remained imprinted on his brain. The old hermit must have recently died as the crows had yet to find him. Ben remembered the flock they saw on their way in. “We need to find something to cover him and get help.”
Louise tied Honey alongside the gelding and joined Ben at the closed door to the hut. “It doesn’t feel right walking in without knocking. I wonder if it’s locked?”
“I’ve never been inside. Let’s see what we can find.” Ben turned the handle, which must have at one time been a knob from an old brass bedstead. The heavy timber door swung open with ease. Expecting a gloomy interior Ben was surprised that the single room had plenty of light from clear sheeting in the roof as well as several windows. The place was clean and tidy.
Louise snuck in behind him. “Look at all these books! There must be thousands.”
Bookshelves lined all four walls wherever there wasn’t other furniture, with hardbacks and paperbacks three or four deep in places. Tomes reached to the ceiling and stacked in piles around a hand-carved chair covered in thick cushions. The small open fireplace had a neat stack of kindling on one side and a large basket of firewood on the other. Wrought iron fire tongs and a poker hung from a nail at the side of the whitewashed chimney breast.
Pivoting where he stood, Ben took in the cosy room, a small metal-framed bed covered in quilts in one corner. “I’ll grab a couple of these.”
Leaving Louise standing in the hut, Ben returned to the grave and covered the old man and his mule’s head. “That’s all I can do for now. We’ll be back with the State Emergency Service.” It didn’t matter to Ben that Harry could no longer hear him; he felt he had to say something to reassure his old friend.
When he returned to the hut he summoned Louise from where she perched on the edge of Harry’s chair flicking through one of his books. “These are mainly poetry. There are notebooks too. I didn’t know he was a writer.”
“Never mind that. We need to ride to the information centre. That’s the nearest place. Hopefully Mr Cartwright will be there, else one of the volunteers can telephone the SES.” Without waiting for an answer he went outside.
Seeing Lucky snuffling in the bushes, the tame wombat that Harry had rescued from a trap, Ben realised there might be other animals that Harry was helping; the powerful owl for one. Crossing the clearing he found the bird in a cage at the edge of the forest. Knowing he couldn’t carry the owl with him, and that the ranger would probably have to destroy the bird as there was nowhere else for it to be cared for, Ben opened the cage. The bird no longer wore the splint on its leg, though it didn’t seem to want to put any weight on the injury. “I hope you’ve recovered enough to fend for yourself.”
Louise came out of the hut nestling a small bundle in her arms. “This little possum was next to Harry’s bed in a basket. What are we going to do with it?”
Ben couldn’t think about saving the tiny creature at the moment. “Put it back for now. Maybe one of the park volunteers can take it. We need to get going.”
“We can’t just abandon the animals that Harry was caring for. It would be different if he was still alive, but he’d
not thank us for putting his body before these animals which need help.” Ben guessed that Louise’s anger helped her deal with the tragedy. “Okay, let’s see what we can find. I’ll look around and see where Harry kept any food. I know he always cooked outside so there’s no kitchen.”
Around the back of the hut Ben found a lean-to shed containing a couple of forty-four-gallon drums. He lifted their lids, which had been weighed down with rocks. In one he found packets of flour, sugar, and other dried goods. The other held a selection of vegetables including a large sack of potatoes and a string bag of carrots. A wooden box held an assortment of tinned food.
Not finding any meat, Ben searched around the clearing. Encountering a narrow well-worn track he followed it into the trees. A gurgling came to his ears. Amongst a tumble of rocks a tiny creek burbled out of the ground. “Louise, come and look at this.”
Ferns of all types grew around the rocks. Crystal clear water trickled over a small contraption. Louise looked at the odd machinery in confusion. “What is it?”
“It’s a hydro generator. Like your dad is going to build, but much smaller. Harry must have used it for lighting or something. And this spring would be great drinking water.” Ben was amazed at how sophisticated the setup appeared. The old hermit seemed to have everything he needed on his doorstep.
Louise reminded him that they were searching for food. “Is there any meat anywhere?”
Following the stream a short way down the hill Ben wasn’t surprised to find an enamel tub anchored in a deep hole. Opening up the tight lid he peered inside. “Nature’s own cooling system. Here’s a bit of mince. We can use this for the owl. There was milk powder in one of the barrels. We can make some up for the possum.”
After feeding and freeing the animals, Ben and Louise mounted up and headed back along the track to the Dalrymple River. Once there they made good time cantering along the riverbank. Although the summer grass had browned on the hillsides, along the watercourse it remained green and springy. The horses kicked up their heels and hooned along as their riders gave them their heads.
As they cut across to the track leading to the information centre a droning overhead caused Ben to look up. A small helicopter banked and swept out of sight behind a rise. “That must be what they’re shooting the brumbies from. It would need to be something like a mustering chopper to get down among the trees.”
Louise trotted alongside. “Don’t remind me. Did your mum ever speak to Mr Cartwright about it?”
“Yeh, and some of the other farmers in the area. No-one wants the cull except Mr Smythe-Waters.” Ben’s temper flared at the thought of the landholder.
“What about Eve? She won’t be going to Harry’s now.” Louise gulped to swallow a sob.
Ben hadn’t had time to think about all the implications of Harry’s death. “I’ve no idea. I can’t keep her. Dad is furious with me for not selling Brandy to Jake Flemington. He threatened to call him up today and sell him without my permission.”
“Ben! You didn’t tell me that. That’s awful. Can he do that?”
“I suppose so. There’s no paperwork for Brandy and I’m under eighteen. Don’t worry, I don’t think Mum will let him.” Ben didn’t feel as sure as he hoped he sounded.
When the friends rode into the car park Snip shied at the purple and white helicopter whose blades still rotated as they wound down. The black gelding danced sideways as Ben steered him to the tree where they usually tied the horses. “How come Honey is so calm around that thing? She might not be if she knew the destruction it’s causing.”
After she dismounted Louise stroked her mare on the nose. “Don’t listen to him. You’re not a brumby any more. You’re my special lady.”
Leading the way Ben ran up the steps and inside. A few tourists peered over maps on the far side of the room. A young man chatted with the ranger at the counter. Clearing his throat to interrupt, Ben waited for the men to look his way.
“Young Naylor. What can I do for you? I’m glad you’ve come in, actually, as I’ve some news for you.” Adam Cartwright introduced the person he was talking to as the pilot of the helicopter.
Ben wasn’t interested in polite conversation. “Harry’s dead. We’ve found his body. We came straight here for help.”
The ranger’s demeanour changed from casual to official. “Where is he? Has he had an accident? Are you sure he’s dead?”
Louise butted in. “It looks as if he had a heart attack or something trying to bury his mule. He’s in a big hole at his hut.”
Taken aback, the ranger ran his hand through his hair. “How did you find him? I didn’t think you knew where he lived?”
Ben didn’t think this was the time for questions. “We didn’t, but recently he told us how to find him. Can you help or do we need to ride home for my dad?”
A hush came over the other people in the room. Someone screwed the lid on a thermos. Another stooped to tighten his bootlaces. Adam scratched his head. “Of course. I’ll ring Maggie at the Goldriver store. She’ll know how to contact his family. Meanwhile, we need to retrieve his body.”
Ben had a sudden thought. “I don’t think you’ll be able to get a vehicle in. The track is only wide enough for a horse. Or a mule.”
The pilot pointed outside. “I can get him in that if there’s a clearing close by.”
Seeing that this was the obvious solution, Ben tried not to think of this man as the murderer of the brumbies. “Yeh, the hut is in a big enough clearing to land in, I think. How will you find it?”
The pilot nodded towards Ben. “There’re two seats. If you show me where he is, I’ll transport him to Crowhurst airport where the funeral director can meet me. I’ll come back for you, or your friend here can bring your horse, whichever you like.”
Louise grabbed Ben’s arm. “I’d rather not go back there. If you fly back I can take the horses back to your place. I can ride Honey back to Patti’s tomorrow.”
The ranger thumbed through a phone book and made a few calls. When he hung up from the last one he joined Ben who sat on the steps outside with the pilot. Louise had already ridden on her way. “While we wait for the funeral directors to get back to us, there was something I wanted to share with you.”
Ben wondered if the news was about the brumbies. He looked across at the pilot. The man didn’t show any emotion.
Adam squatted down next to them on the steps. “You were right about that logging. I had it checked out. Not only is it in the park, it’s a special reserve. There’s apparently a breeding pair of powerful owls there, as well as the rare yellow-bellied gliders.”
Hoping that the owl he rescued hadn’t lost his mate, he told the ranger about finding the bird. “I let it go. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“That’s alright. If it’s still there we can catch it again. If it isn’t, I guess it can cope for itself.” Before he could say more a volunteer came out of the centre and handed him a message. “You’re all set to go. There’ll be an ambulance waiting for you at Crowhurst. The body will have to go to the hospital first. Maggie is going to contact the old guy’s brother.”
Taken aback, Ben rose to his feet. “I didn’t know he had a brother.”
The ranger nodded. “Nor did I. I rarely spoke to him. I think he was worried I’d try to kick him out of the park, but I never minded him being there. He helped a lot of animals.”
“So who was trying to get him out?” Ben knew the answer before he even finished asking the question. “Don’t tell me, Mr Smythe-Waters.”
Chapter 15
The sunny morning of the funeral contrasted to Louise’s mood. She still couldn’t believe that Harry was dead. Riding in the mountains wouldn’t be the same without the chance of encountering his bearded smile above Jenny’s wobbling grey ears. The thought of no-one caring for the sick and injured wildlife added to her depression. Although she knew that n
ature had to follow its own path her spirits always lifted to see the creatures that Harry rescued.
She thought of the baby magpie, Fred, which she had saved. The chick would certainly have died without her intervention. Now he had grown up and left to find a flock. When Ben had returned to Harry’s hut with the helicopter he had collected the baby possum and handed it over to Adam. The ranger had promised to find a carer.
Across the other side of the churchyard Mrs Naylor chatted to Maggie from the store. Patti stood in another small group. More people kept arriving. Louise hadn’t thought that anyone other than her and Ben would attend yet she counted over a hundred people. Some wore smart country clothes, while others looked as if they came from a city. Battered old utes parked next to luxury cars.
A squat man in a smart black suit came across to where she stood with Ben. “Excuse me, I believe you’re Ben and Louise.”
Surprised to be approached by a stranger, Louise only nodded.
“I want to thank you for being such good friends with my brother. He often wrote of his times with you. I’m Julian McDonald.” The man shook their hands with a firm grip.
To Louise, Harry’s brother seemed self-assured, the sort of person who is used to being listened to. “Sorry, we didn’t know until recently that Harry had a brother. He never talked about himself. Do you live far away?”
Julian directed the friends to a bench against the wall in the churchyard. Far from being a dreary place, flowers grew in abundance in neat beds and the grass sprung underfoot. “Let’s sit down and talk while we can. I’m sure there’s a lot you’d probably like to know. Our family is from Ballarat in Victoria.”
Louise folded her hands in her lap as she seated herself, self-conscious in a summer dress. She couldn’t help thinking how white her legs looked. They were normally covered in jeans or jodhpurs.
Ben also looked awkward in his smart outfit of pressed shirt and moleskin trousers. “I’ve always wondered why Harry chose to live in the park. I know he survived well living as he did, but it must have been very cold in the mountains through winter.”
