“Good heavens, Charles, it’s you.”
Charles turned, alarmed by Johanna Prosser’s arrival.
“I thought Swan or one of the men must have come back early,” she said.
He glanced back at his cart, where the barrels hid the bottle he had stowed first. “You surprised me, Mrs Prosser. I didn’t know you were home or I would have come to speak with you first.” He waved a hand towards the barrels then stepped away from the cart to the post he’d hung his jacket over, drawing her attention with him. “I’ve borrowed some barrels and filled them with water. My man at the claim is complaining about the water quality there. The level is getting low and he must share it with Baker’s cattle.”
“Stock need water, Charles, or they die.”
Charles was taken aback by her directness. “Yes … well … I have my mining claim there so … I’ll replace your barrels next time I come this way.” He stopped. Johanna was studying him closely, her gaze so direct he was squirming inside. “I thought you would be in Hawker already.” He changed the subject. “You usually have several days in town when you go.”
“I’ve been needed here.” She looked away towards the south. “The men have been shifting the remaining cattle, trying to find them food and water. We don’t have a lot of stock left. The conditions since summer have been the worst we’ve experienced.”
She turned back to him and he noticed the wisps of hair that had drifted from under her hat were grey. Her face had also aged since he’d seen her last.
“All the more reason to come to town for a party.”
Johanna turned back to him. Her gaze a mixture of sadness and something else — annoyance perhaps.
“Not this time, Charles. I hope young Leonard is doing well.”
“He is. Edith is a wonderful mother.”
“Of course.” She adjusted the brim of her broad hat. “It’s very warm again today. The heat is relentless. Can I offer you some refreshment before you leave?”
“No, thank you, Mrs Prosser. I have to get this water to my man and then return to Hawker. Still things to prepare for the christening.”
“Very well. Please give my best to your father.”
“I will.” Charles returned to his cart and climbed onto the seat, waved and set off.
He felt a prickle down his neck and glanced back over his shoulder to see that, in spite of the warm day, Johanna was still standing in the full sun where he’d left her, watching him drive away.
Forty-five
Two wagons, several horses and a crowd of people gathered outside the homestead at Smith’s Ridge in the fresh air of early morning. The sun was spreading a pink light across the cloudy sky and a splash of screeching colour wheeled overhead as a flock of galahs took flight from the trees along the dry creek bed. There was an almost festive air to the group, but the occasion wasn’t exactly a happy one.
All of the Bakers were present except for Thomas, who had stayed back at Wildu Creek, and Robert, who was away carting. Ruth and Matthew played with Clem’s boy, Haji, and Beth held his daughter, Sally. The women had loaded Hegarty’s spare horse with so much food he threatened to take offence, saying they must think he did nothing but eat.
Joseph stood back as Clem and William took a turn at shaking Hegarty’s hand. Finally, the big man was standing in front of him. Instead of offering his hand Joseph wrapped his arms around his giant of a friend.
“I’m sorry you have to leave, Hegarty.” Joseph let him go and looked into the laughing eyes of the man who had helped him so many times since their meeting on the goldfields at Teetulpa, and through their years as friends at Wildu Creek and Smith’s Ridge. “You’ve become part of the family.”
“This is the longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere. It’s time for me to move on.” Hegarty gripped his shoulder. “You’ve got plenty of helpers and there’s another goldfield calling.”
Joseph was going to miss his friend. Even though Hegarty had shifted to Smith’s Ridge and for the last year he’d been on the road carting goods with their wagon, they still caught up from time to time. If only the seasons weren’t so bad he might have stayed instead of following the lure of another gold mine. But he was right. There were plenty of people on both properties and little work for them to do. The drought had sucked the life out of almost everything.
“Travel well, my friend,” Joseph said.
“And you.” Hegarty swung up into the saddle. He waved to them all then moved his horse closer to where William stood with his arm around Georgina. “You look after my share of that stallion, lass.”
“I will.” Georgina laughed and Hegarty urged his horse away, towing the heavily loaded packhorse behind.
“Now, I suppose we have to load another horse,” Millie said as Hegarty disappeared among the trees. She looked at Joseph and frowned. “Are you still going with William to see this waterhole?”
“Yes. Imagine how terrible it will be for you to have two days of uninterrupted talking with Georgina and Jessie.”
Matthew and Haji ran past screeching like galahs. Millie’s hands went to her hips. “Does that mean you are taking the children with you?”
Joseph grinned, pleased to see some spark back in her look. “Not this time.” He glanced towards the store his son had built against the side of a low hill. William was there, adding some final supplies to the cart they’d already loaded. Joseph was going to accompany him to take the supplies to his shepherd, Albie, who camped near the waterhole. “I’d better help.”
She raised her eyebrows but a smile played on her lips as he turned away.
Joseph had brought his family to Smith’s Ridge to break the monotony. It had also been a chance to farewell Hegarty and spend some time with William and Georgina. Millie had been more relaxed in the last few days than he’d seen her in a long time. She had never been able to shake the terror of having her children stolen, and always stayed close to home. It had been years since she’d made the trip to Hawker. She was still the happy woman he had married but not as carefree as she had once been. Of course the drought had eroded the optimism of everyone, except for Thomas, who still greeted each day with a spring in his not-so-quick step.
William was rolling a barrel towards the cart and Joseph reached him just in time to help trundle it up the planks.
“Why are you taking barrelled water from your precious supply?” Joseph asked. “Is the waterhole so bad he can’t use it?”
“We’re careful. Our tanks aren’t too low yet. I’ve always supplied Albie’s water so he can keep a watch but not have to actually use the waterhole. And now we’ve shifted the cattle back and the waterhole is getting low, it’s better I take him his own supply.”
William went into the shed and came out with a bag of flour.
“Stockpiling your own supplies was a good idea.” Joseph peered inside the structure and waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom after the bright sunshine outside. It was a good solid shed with lined sides and a ceiling stuffed with hay. Shelves covered every wall except for a space in the back, where a door opened into the cellar. It was small but serviceable and had kept William, Clem and sometimes Robert busy during the winter digging into the hillside. “At least Millie can come to a shop, albeit a basic one.”
“She still won’t go into Hawker?”
Joseph shook his head.
“Neither will Jessie.”
“I can’t even take the children. People must think I’m ashamed of my own flesh and blood. They’re never seen with me beyond Smith’s Ridge.”
“Perhaps once they’re older …”
“Town will be a foreign land to them.” Joseph looked back to where the women were chatting at William’s back fence, the children playing happily nearby. Georgina was holding baby Sally. “No sign of a child for you yet, son.”
William gave his father a wry grin. “It seems creating children is not as easy for us as it has been for you, Father.”
Joseph clapped him on the back and laughed. �
�Patience! Your time will come, I am sure.”
The last of the supplies were loaded and the pies and cakes from the women carefully stowed, and the two men were soon waving goodbye. The children ran behind the cart for a short distance until the horses picked up speed. The homestead was lost from view behind the trees, along with the sound of the rabble of children.
Joseph and William rode in companionable silence, each deep in his own thoughts. They made good time. Joseph stared up at the ridges stretching above them, where the trees and foliage formed jagged dark green lines in the russet rocks. The two men and horses skirted the bottom of the barren hills until they reached a track winding along a gully. William came to a halt. They were still some distance from the waterhole.
“I take the cart up around the back way to where Albie is camped,” William said. “That way the track’s not obvious.” He left the horse and cart a little way up the track then rode on with Joseph towards the waterhole.
As they crested the bank Joseph was both dismayed at the fence that crossed the waterhole securing the deepest section on the side of the claim, and astonished to see how extensive the fossicking camp was. There were three tents, one quite a bit bigger than the others. Two barrels and a table and chairs sat in the shade of a giant gum. There was also a small yard with two horses.
Joseph gave a low whistle. “This is much more substantial than my little home when I mined at Teetulpa. We only had—”
“What the devil?” William’s curse cut him off.
Joseph glanced at his son and then in the direction he was looking, along the dry creek bed below the waterhole.
William urged his horse down the bank and Joseph followed to where a man was crouched over a dead cow. Beyond him was a young bull, also dead. The sound of horses brought the man to his feet.
“What are you doing?” William’s horse had barely stopped before he was sliding from the saddle. “You can’t butcher my cattle.”
Joseph dismounted right behind him.
“The cow was already dead,” the fellow said. He held a large knife and there were signs he’d been attempting to cut off the hindquarters of the animal.
“Who are you?” Joseph asked as his son bent to inspect the cow.
“Barnes. I work the claim over there.” He jerked his head over his shoulder.
“Look at this, Father.”
Joseph moved around the man to where his son leaned over the head of the cow. The animal’s eyes were bulging, and some kind of frothy liquid coated its swollen lips. Joseph turned to study the rest of the beast then he turned back to Barnes. “I don’t think you’d be wise to eat this animal.”
“I told you I didn’t kill it,” Barnes growled. “Just noticed it this morning. Wasn’t going to waste fresh meat.”
“Not so fresh.” Joseph gripped William’s shoulder. “I’d say this cow has been poisoned.”
Barnes staggered back. He brushed his spare hand down his trouser leg and stared at the cow. “Poisoned?”
William stood. “That’s what I thought, but how?” He strode to the other animal. “Looks like it died in the same way.”
“Perhaps some kind of vegetation it discovered.”
“You can see there’s not much around and what there is has always fed my cattle.”
There was a bellow behind them and the black bull with a cow following lumbered slowly along towards the waterhole.
Joseph looked at the animal at his feet then back at the waterhole. “It’s the water, William!”
William set off running to his horse before Joseph could say any more. He leaped onto Big Red and shouted at the animals as the bull lowered its head to the water. The cow skittered away from the man and horse but the bull lifted his gaze only a moment and then began to drink.
Joseph watched, helpless, as his son’s last remaining bull quenched his thirst then finally gave in to William’s urging and moved away, slowly following the cow back up the creek. Once the animals were out of sight William turned his horse and came back to where Joseph waited with Barnes.
Joseph could see the despair on his son’s face as he climbed down from his horse. “He might be all right. Whatever it was may have been limited to one patch. Or perhaps it’s not the water at all.”
William marched up to Barnes. “Has anyone else been here?”
The man shook his head but Joseph could tell by the way he wouldn’t meet William’s look that he was lying.
“Do you drink this water?” Joseph asked.
Barnes glanced warily from William to Joseph. “Not since the cattle have come back. I get fresh water in barrels with my supplies.”
“I’ve never seen barrels here before,” William said.
Barnes looked at him directly this time. “The supply has never been this low before.”
“We’ll have to fence off that waterhole,” Joseph said.
“There’s no water anywhere else.” William rounded on him. “At least none that’s accessible to cattle.”
Joseph saw Barnes shift his head slightly and give William a searching look.
“What’s to be done?” Joseph said.
“I’ve got work to do.” Barnes turned on his heel and set off back across the creek and over the fence to the claim.
“I’m going to follow that bull,” William said. “See if he drops like these poor creatures.”
“Let me do that,” Joseph said. He glanced to where Barnes was already climbing up the bank on the other side. “You go back for the cart. Take the supplies to Albie. He might have some ideas about the poison. Then we’d better meet back here and drag these two to higher ground.”
“Just in case it rains?” William said.
Father and son laughed, but it was a hollow sound.
William urged Big Red along the bank, skirting the edge of the creek. Anger burned within him. When he’d told Albie about the poisoned cattle, the shepherd had been quick to tell him he’d seen Wiltshire at the waterhole just the day before. William had climbed straight back on his horse. Now he urged Big Red down the bank and directly to where Barnes was shovelling rocks into his bucket. William slid from the saddle, leaving his horse untethered, and stormed at Barnes.
“What did Wiltshire put in the water?”
Barnes inched backwards a little. “I haven’t seen Wiltshire.”
“Liar. He was here yesterday.” William pushed his face closer. “What did he put in the water?”
“How would I know what Wiltshire does? I’m employed to work this claim, not be his mate.”
“Tell me what he did when he was here.”
“He brought me some supplies.”
“Did he go near the waterhole?” William saw the sideways look Barnes gave. “What did he put in it?”
“I didn’t see anything.”
William growled in frustration. He glanced around the camp and his gaze stopped at the mug on top of the water barrel. He marched over, snatched it up and made his way to the waterhole where he scooped in some water.
Barnes frowned as William stepped back up to him and pushed the mug at him.
“Take a drink.”
“No.”
“This water’s fresh from a spring.” William lifted the mug to the man’s lips. “Take a drink.”
Barnes turned his head away. “No. Wiltshire said not to.”
William splashed some water at Barnes. The man gave a yelp and recoiled.
“William, what are you doing?” Joseph was striding towards them from the other side of the fence.
“Barnes is showing me this water is safe to drink.” William glared at the prospector, who took another step back.
He lowered his gaze as both Baker men stared at him. “Look, I don’t know anything.” He pulled a dirty handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his face. “Wiltshire did go to the waterhole over the fence when he came back, but I didn’t see him do anything. I was too busy unloading the barrels of water he gave me. All he said was I was to use them for drinking from
now on because the cattle would foul the water.”
“Came back from where?” William asked.
“I don’t know. He brought me some supplies, then, when he saw you’d shifted the fence, he was gone for half the day. When he came back he had two barrels of water. He told me to unload them. I did it on my own while he went off. When I was done he told me to only drink from the barrels and he left.”
William wanted to shake the man. “You must have seen him do something.”
Barnes shook his head. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Let him be, son,” Joseph said. “He’s not the one responsible.”
Barnes hurried back to his tent. William shook his head and dropped the mug. He watched the last of the water soak into the sandy soil.
“The bull’s all right.” Joseph spoke calmly. “Whatever it was hasn’t affected him.”
William shot one last glance in Barnes’s direction, then he turned and walked with his father to where Big Red waited.
“It had to be poison,” William said. “Either it wasn’t very much and those two were unlucky enough to drink the affected water soon after, or perhaps the size of the waterhole and the fresh water entering from the spring has dissipated it.”
“Thank the Lord the natives don’t come here.”
“And that Albie has his own supply.” William surveyed the camp. “Barnes said Wiltshire came with supplies but when he saw the cattle he went off somewhere and brought back water in barrels. I can’t believe he would have a sudden concern for his employee’s health. It’s only a few cattle and over here the waterhole is deeper where the spring feeds it.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Wiltshire was gone for about half a day. Then he came back with the barrels. The only place he could get to and back from here would be Prosser’s Run.”
“You think that’s where he went?”
“It’s possible. Swan told Hegarty they made poisoned water traps for rabbits. It was back when we all still had grass.”
“I’m glad we didn’t do that.”
William remembered the discussion they’d had. Joseph had been so against poisoning the fenced artificial waterholes they’d had to resort to other methods of depleting the rabbits.
Jewel In the North Page 38
