Ellie dipped her chin to hide her smile as Aurelia nearly bit the stem of her pipe in two. At least Alicia’s arrival had put a spark back into the old girl – maybe it would do the trick and get her back on an even keel.
‘The work’s a lot tougher here than in a factory,’ Aurelia said flatly as she eyed the long red finger nails. ‘You’ll have to learn to get your hands dirty.’
Alicia smiled brightly at Mickey. ‘I’m sure I’ll have to learn a great many things,’ she said. ‘But it won’t be so bad if we have visits from our neighbours.’
Mickey reddened and looked into his mug of tea as if he depended upon finding an answer to Alicia’s flirting in there. ‘Reckon there won’t be much time for visiting,’ he muttered. ‘I was in the Curry dropping off the last of me men. I’m down to me and the stock boys and a couple of old blokes who didn’t pass the army medical.’
‘Things are tough all round,’ said Ellie as she finished the last of her tea. ‘What with this drought, and the lack of station hands to keep the cattle from starving, we could all end up with nothing.’
‘Some of the hardest hit stations are closing down until the war’s over,’ Mickey said solemnly. ‘I can see their point, but Australia’s gunna need beef and mutton to see her through and I reckon we gotta do our best.’ He caught Alicia watching him and blushed. ‘I’d volunteer to fight if I didn’t have Jarrah to run,’ he added hastily. ‘Me son, Seamus, is already overseas, so I gotta stay.’
*
Ellie went to bed long before she heard Mickey’s plane take off for Jarrah. Yet she lay awake, her thoughts troubling her. Warratah was bereft of labour, and now her mother had turned up it would put a further strain on the supplies. For she would undoubtedly prove to be worse than useless, and time spent trying to find something she could do would be time wasted.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. If only Joe was here, she thought as she held his engagement ring to her lips. If only she could see him again, listen to his voice and snuggle into his arms. The warmth spread through her and she hugged the pillow. She was determined to remain strong, to stem the overwhelming sadness that seemed to catch her unawares. Tears were wasted energy. She fell asleep and dreamed of dappled moonlit shadows on the banks of a billabong and green eyes.
*
It was not yet light when she awoke. She climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen still half-asleep. Aurelia was busy stirring something in a pot and ordering a drowsy Sally about the kitchen. ‘Wake your mother up,’ she said briskly. ‘We’ve a busy few days ahead and we’re going to need all hands on deck.’
Ellie raised an eyebrow. ‘What can she do, exactly?’ she asked.
‘She can ride,’ said Aurelia shortly. ‘And I need everyone to help round up the cattle and take them south to number twelve bore.’
Ellie felt her spirits rise as she went into the bedroom Aurelia and Alicia had to share now there were three of them in the two-bedroomed house. Aurelia had emerged from her gloom, her indomitable forbearance too strong to be quenched for long. Warratah would survive.
The big double bed was rumpled, the covers dragged over to one side. Alicia was fast asleep, one pale, delicate arm thrown over the eiderdown, one slender leg peeking from beneath the sheet.
Ellie was about to rouse her when something made her still. She looked down at her mother, taking in the flawless skin, the blonde hair and painted nails. Alicia looked so fragile against the white sheets, so out of place in this little wooden house in the middle of nowhere, and for the first time in her life, Ellie realised how vulnerable Alicia was. She might be selfish and self-centred, a ‘flibberty-gibbet’ as Aunt Aurelia called her – but she’d come across the world in what could only have been a terrifying journey – so somewhere behind that delicate facade was a core of steel. Yet her vulnerability lay in her isolation – her failure to realise she alienated those who could have loved her without question.
Alicia opened her eyes. ‘Good morning darling,’ she murmured.
Ellie pushed back her thoughts. Alicia needed her sympathy as much as a cow needed ticks. ‘Time to get up,’ she said briskly. ‘Breakfast is ready.’
The elegant hand reached for the bed-side clock, and the sleepy eyes widened. ‘It’s the middle of the night,’ Alicia exclaimed. ‘Go away, Elspeth. Let me sleep.’
‘We always get up at four,’ said Ellie as she pulled spare moleskins, shirt, jacket and boots from Aurelia’s cupboard. ‘Better hurry. We’ve got a lot to do.’
Alicia sat up, one silken night-dress strap drifting from her shoulder. She eyed the clothes Ellie dumped on the bed. ‘You don’t expect me to wear these, do you?’ she said with a grimace. ‘I shall look an absolute fright.’
‘The cows won’t mind,’ said Ellie as she struggled to keep a straight face.
‘Cows?’ The blue eyes widened. ‘What on earth have cows to do with anything?’
Ellie stood in the doorway, she could smell the bacon cooking in the kitchen and it was making her hungry. ‘We’re moving them today,’ she said impatiently. ‘So you’d better get a move on or you’ll miss breakfast.’ She closed the door and left her mother to it. She’d learn.
They had finished breakfast by the time Alicia emerged from the bedroom and were busy packing up the tucker and water bags. The women turned and stared at the apparition before them, and Ellie had to bite hard on her lip to stop herself from laughing. Mum looked ridiculous.
Aurelia’s moleskins sagged around the neat bottom and thighs and had been viciously gathered at the waist by a broad, sparkling belt Alicia must have brought with her. The shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, the collar turned up, the sleeves neatly folded back up the slender arms which jangled with bracelets. A brightly coloured chiffon scarf adorned her neck, and the tweed jacket was nonchalantly slung over narrow shoulders. The make-up was immaculate, the perfume exotic.
‘You can take all that jewellery off for a start,’ boomed Aurelia. ‘You’ll frighten the cattle.’
‘Nonsense,’ retorted Alicia as she pulled out a chair and sat at the table. ‘One doesn’t have to look like a rag-bag just because one has to work. I like to take pride in my appearance even if you don’t.’ She gave the house lubra a withering glare which stifled her giggles immediately. ‘I want bacon and eggs and toast,’ she demanded. ‘And don’t over-cook the eggs like you did last time I was here.’
‘Too late for breakfast,’ rasped Aurelia. ‘Sally, get on with your chores.’ She pulled a protesting Alicia from the chair and almost dragged her out to the verandah. ‘Get those bracelets off and put your jacket on properly. There’s work to do and I can’t afford you going down with sunburn.’
Despite all intentions to the contrary, Ellie began to feel sorry for her mother as she took off the offending jewellery and shrugged into the over-sized jacket. ‘Come on,’ she said kindly. ‘Let’s find you a hat and a horse.’
‘Bombs away,’ yelled Kelly from his perch. He eyed Alicia and lifted his yellow comb in recognition of an enemy. ‘Zeig Heil!’ he shrieked as he flapped his wings.
‘What on earth…?’ Alicia stood stock still on the verandah. She turned to Aurelia. ‘I think that’s disgusting,’ she hissed. ‘How dare you let…’
‘Kelly has his own way of expressing himself,’ said Aurelia nonchalantly as she caught Ellie’s eye. ‘I shouldn’t let it bother you.’ She smoothed his ruffled feathers, let him nibble her chin and made sure he had enough food and water for the next few days. Sally wasn’t terribly reliable.
Alicia and Kelly glared at one another, but it was the bird that looked away first and concentrated on preening. ‘At least I’ve won one argument this morning,’ she said crossly. Grabbing the hat from Ellie, she glared down at her. ‘And you can take that silly grin off your face,’ she snapped. ‘It isn’t funny.’
Ellie ducked her head. Having mum around certainly livened things up, but she knew that any prolonged visit from Alicia was bound to get on their nerves,
and wondered just how long it would be before they had their first serious argument.
It was still chilly as they walked across the yard, the frost glittering in the trees where an ethereal mist entwined itself amongst the branches. The stock horses had already been gathered in the holding paddock for the muster and they milled around in expectation.
‘I’ll have that one,’ said Alicia pointing a scarlet nail at a particularly handsome chestnut.
‘He’s a bit fresh,’ warned Ellie. ‘How long since you’ve ridden?’
‘Just before I left England,’ Alicia said evenly. ‘I don’t need you to tell me what I can and can’t ride.’ She opened the gate and moved quietly amongst the horses until she came to the chestnut gelding.
Ellie stood anxiously by as Alicia fussed him, saddled him up and checked the girths before swinging neatly into the saddle.
‘Your mother was riding to hounds by the time she was six,’ muttered Aurelia as she handed Ellie her stock saddle and prepared Boomerang for herself. ‘Contrary to appearances, she can handle a horse – despite the length of her fingernails.’
Having coaxed Boomerang into letting her on his back, Aurelia let the horse prop and dance for a while, then firmly took control. ‘Too fresh for his own good,’ she muttered. ‘Silly bugger thinks I’m going to let him get away with showing off.’
Ellie watched her mother’s hands on the reins, and the easy way she sat in the saddle and realised Aurelia knew her mother better than she did. She heaved a sigh of relief. At least that was one thing less to worry about, she thought as she headed for her own black gelding and began to saddle him. Clipper was getting too old for this kind of caper, and was spending a well earned retirement with dad’s elderly grey in the horse paddock where the grass was still lush from the underground bore that flowed in to the long, narrow billabong. She still rode him now and then, and since Joe’s departure, had spent quite a bit of time in his company.
The stock boys had rounded up the spare horses and these were in a string behind their mounts. They had loaded up the supply horses with the food and tools they might need over the next few days, and each rider carried their own sleeping roll and rifle. The horses had been spelled long enough for them to be on their toes and not all of them appreciated being disturbed from their grazing.
‘As it’s the nearest, we’re mustering Gidgee Creek paddock first,’ shouted Aurelia. ‘We’ll water them at number four bore before we take them on to the yard at Sand Hill. We’ll change horses at lunch-time so our mounts are fresh for the yarding up.’ She gave a series of loud whistles and as Sally and Jacky Jack’s youngest daughter opened the gates, the dogs came racing from the kennel yard. They were a mixed bunch, but all with the distinctive markings of the Blue Heeler dog that led them. He was a good looking dog, with intelligent eyes and a coat that shone blue in the early morning light and he seemed to be delighted to be free.
Aurelia gave a sharp whistle and the dogs assembled obediently around her, tongues lolling, tails wagging, ears pricked. ‘Let’s get moving,’ she shouted.
Ellie felt the sadness creep over her again as they moved out of homestead yard and into the paddock. Jacky Jack and his five stock boys were all that was left of the thirty or forty men who usually came to work during the droving season, for unlike Jarrah, they had no old-timers. She stared off into the distance, wondering where Joe was and if he thought of her at all. It felt strange not to have him beside her, almost as if a part of her was missing.
‘Do stop day-dreaming, dear,’ said Aurelia with asperity. ‘You’ll hear from him soon.’
Ellie’s spirits rose as the nine of them rode on to the plains, the dogs keeping pace as the sun climbed higher and the horizon sweltered. The mob grew as they mustered the scrub, and the dogs and riders were fully occupied as they kept the three hundred or so head of cattle tightly bunched and pushed them along towards number four bore.
It was a mixed mob of breeders, yearlings, calves and bulls, and they’d had about three months of uninterrupted grazing since the last time they’d been handled and didn’t like it much. Accompanied by the sharp crack of the stock whips and the constant drum of hoofs, the bulls bellowed and the cows mooed for lost calves as red dust drifted skywards.
Aurelia and three of the stock boys flanked the mob near the front, and Ellie and Alicia had taken up position on either side further back, leaving the last two stock boys to keep the cattle bunched at the tail. The dogs were tireless, nipping legs and hides, rushing, bunching and gathering in the odd stray that tried to make a break for it.
Ellie kept an eye on her mother and realised she was holding up well despite the dust, the heat and the flies. Yet they were all relieved to see the bore on the horizon, for it had been a long morning and the sun’s glare was relentless.
The mob picked up their pace as the stock boys began to throw water on the ground, and Ellie kicked her horse into a gallop as they thundered over the scrub plains towards the long galvanised trough.
‘That’s it,’ yelled Aurelia as the mob reached the trough and drank thirstily. ‘Lunch time.’
Two of the stock boys remained with the herd as the rest dismounted. The horse tailer swapped their horses for fresher ones while Jacky Jack and Ellie organised a meal of billy tea, corned beef and damper. There were dried apricots for pudding.
‘I never realised how ghastly cows can be,’ said Alicia as she fanned herself with her hat. ‘Everywhere one turns there’s the stink of hide and manure. And as for the flies.’ She grimaced and fanned harder at the black swarm covering her lunch.
‘You get used to it,’ laughed Ellie. ‘I don’t even notice any more.’
They ate their meal quickly and got back into the saddle so the stock boys could leave the cattle and have their own tucker. Ellie could see Alicia was stiff from riding so long, but she grudgingly admired her for not complaining.
They pushed the mob ahead of them as the sun moved across the sky towards evening. The land was partially cleared, open country, with spinnifex and Mitchell grass already sadly depleted and offering little nourishment. As the sun began to dip they caught their first sight of the stockyard at Sand Hill. The boys rode ahead and opened the gate that led to a wide lane running parallel to the paddock fence. This lane was roughly four hundred yards wide, half a mile long and led directly into the stockyard.
‘Keep ‘em bunched,’ warned Aurelia. ‘Don’t let ‘em get away from you.’
The riders pushed the beasts forward at a fast pace with cracks of their whips and shrill whistles. The dogs barked and raced alongside, nipping and diving, twisting and turning, avoiding heavy hooves and sharp horns, and the cruel lash of the stock whips that whistled past their ears. The bulls had become wary, sniffing the air, bellowing with rage as they realised what was about to happen. Aurelia shouted directions, and as the dust rose in great choking clouds the men and women of Warratah kept the mob tight, flanking every side, watching the bulls in case they broke loose. They urged their fresh horses on, pushing the mob into a trot. The calves dropped back, exhausted from their journey as the cows mooed and some of the bulls tried to mount the heifers. They were now only three hundred yards from the stockyard gate.
One of the bulls spotted the gate and bellowed with rage. He stopped, wheeled around and broke into a fast gallop through the mob heading back down the lane for open country.
Ellie and Alicia were after him. Ellie’s fresh horse lengthened his stride, shortening the distance between him and the bull. She rode full pelt alongside him, then drove the gelding into his side. The bull staggered and came to a shuddering halt.
Ellie swiftly looked back at Aurelia and the stock boys. They’d stayed with the restless mob. No help there. Then she saw a streak of blue shooting up the lane and watched in relief as the heeler dog raced towards them.
The heeler was on the bull in seconds, his teeth fastened on the poor beast’s nose. With a bellow of rage the bull shook his head, but the heeler clung on, his teeth
turning red from the blood as he was swung helplessly in the air.
The bull’s eyes were tormented, his bloodied nose flaring. He raised his head, feet planted in the dirt, and shook the dog as if he was a rag. Then with one mighty thrust he freed himself and stood there bellowing.
The blue heeler hugged the dirt, hackles raised, sides heaving as the women cautiously moved their horses into position. He bared his teeth, growling deep in his throat, ears flattened, tense and waiting. The bull dipped his head and charged. The heeler side-stepped neatly and fixed his teeth in the bull’s ear.
Alicia turned her horse to help the dog but was stopped by a shout from Ellie. ‘Let the dog handle it. Keep away until we’re ready to move the bull towards the pens again.’
Blood oozed from the bull’s nose and ear, splashed on to the dog and the women who sat watching as he roared in frustration and rage. But the Heeler ignored it, holding on with his teeth, determined not to be tossed again.
As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The bull stopped roaring, his tongue hanging low as he gasped for breath. He appeared to be bewildered by the strangeness of events, but freedom was still on his mind as he turned and twisted and tried to escape the heeler. But the little dog was always there – always in confrontation – as stubborn as the bull.
Ellie settled her horse as she watched the bull turn and trot back down the lane towards the mob, the dog a short distance behind, heeling him all the way. She joined Alicia and they brought up the rear, their horses lathered in sweat from their mad dash.
‘Get them in the yards quickly,’ shouted Aurelia as she flicked the long stock whip and kept the bull moving.
Ellie and the boys forced the last of the cattle into the stockyards before the bull had time to make any further escape attempts. The game little dog kept behind, heeling the strays and watching closely as the gates were finally pulled shut.
Aurelia slid from the saddle and slapped her hat on her thigh. ‘Well done, Alicia,’ she boomed. ‘Knew you had to be useful at something.’
Windflowers Page 19
