The next morning, Bartholomew was buried in the tiny cemetery at the edge of the forest, where the cockatoos called and the koalas grunted. Alice washed his clothes, and hung them on the line to dry. Then Poppy helped her fold them neatly away.
IT was Saturday – chores day. And although everyone was still sad about Bartholomew, Mother Hangtree had said that life would go on as normal. Gus had been up since dawn milking the two Bird Creek cows. Blossom helped Alice with the breakfast dishes, while Daisy and Juniper collected eggs from the hen house. But Poppy had the best chore of all. It was her turn to dust Mother Hangtree’s residence.
The Matron appeared at the front door tucking wisps of hair inside her bonnet. She was heading to Echuca with Charley for the day, to buy supplies for the very important concert.
‘Make sure you dust the house thoroughly this time,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, Mother,’ Poppy replied and smiled as she closed the front door.
After dusting the parlour and the bedroom, Poppy walked down the hall to the library. She always kept the best room for last.
As she placed her fingers around the shiny brass doorknob, a tingle of excitement ran through her. The smell of paper and leather, the books lining three walls all the way up to the ceiling, Mother Hangtree’s huge desk with feet shaped like a lion’s paws – this sight was as wondrous to Poppy as if she saw a shooting star, or a baby kangaroo in its mother’s pouch.
Out of all the books in the library, Poppy’s favourite was called The Book of Knowledge. It was so big it had to lie flat on its side.
She dragged the book onto the floor and opened it. The smell that came out reminded Poppy of honey and wattle after a summer rain.
The book told of strange people and lands, of stars and planets, of discoveries and inventions. On every page were finely drawn illustrations and diagrams. The map of Italy looked like a boot. The map of Australia was like the head of a dog. She turned to the chapter about ‘China, the Celestial Kingdom’. She knew all the facts on this page by heart.
The Chinese drink green tea in very small cups without milk or sugar. The beauty of a woman is judged by her feet. Small feet less than three inches long are considered the most desirable. The Great Wall stretches from one end of China to the other and is four thousand miles long. Chinese books are written from top to bottom and from right to left. The Chinese invented printing, paper making, gunpowder, the compass and the stirrup.
But there was one answer she couldn’t find anywhere in The Book of Knowledge. Where had her father disappeared to, and why?
After reading the chapter about the pyramids, Poppy closed the book and heaved it back on the shelf. It was time to dust Mother Hangtree’s desk. There was a gold inkwell with a rearing horse on the lid, pens and blotting pads, a silver pin container, envelopes and writing paper, and a large wooden writing box. Poppy lifted its lid to dust inside. Letters were bundled together and tied with ribbon. Some had official-looking stamps on them. But it was when she was carefully cleaning a corner of the box that she suddenly froze. A letter was poking out of a side pocket. And one word caught her attention – AUGUSTUS.
She glanced out of the window to make sure no one could see her, then opened the letter.
With a trembling hand, she read:
Dear Mrs Hangtree,
I have taken into consideration the urgency of your request and will despatch a man to pick up your charge, Augustus, by the end of the week, whereby he will be transported immediately to a more suitable mission. I have full confidence that the manager there will be able to drive out the boy’s wandering habits and turn him into a God-fearing, hard-working young man.
Yours Faithfully
The Right Rev. F. Coldfyst.
Poppy stood staring at the words on the page.
Mother Hangtree had arranged to send Gus away! They could be coming to get him at any moment. Poppy’s heart raced as she looked out of the window again. She saw her brother leading some of the children into the forest.
I have to warn him, she thought. He has to leave Bird Creek today, while Mother Hangtree is in Echuca.
When Poppy caught up to Gus, he was pointing to a plant that had attached itself to the branch of a tree. It had slender leaves and small round pink fruit. He had learnt a lot about different plants from the Aboriginal stockmen who sometimes came to work at Bird Creek. Poppy tried to attract his attention without the others seeing her. She didn’t want to alarm them. He plucked a few berries and passed them around.
‘You will never go hungry if you know your plants,’ he said. Then he showed them some wild raspberries and the soft inner bark of young twigs from eucalyptus trees. The gum was delicious for chewing.
‘These are made by sap-sucking bugs,’ he continued, showing the children the surface of a leaf where small white tufts grew. He picked a leaf and gave it to Tobiah. ‘Run it between your teeth and scrape off the white stuff.’
Tobiah hesitated first, then tried it. ‘It’s sweet like honey,’ he said with surprise.
‘I want one,’ said Daisy, standing on her tiptoes and reaching up.
It was then that Gus saw Poppy anxiously waving at him from the back of the group.
‘Francis, give everyone a leaf. I’ll be right back.’
Poppy led Gus away, out of earshot of the rest of the children.
‘I found a letter in Mother Hangtree’s office! It’s about you, Gus. They’re sending you away to another mission.’
Gus frowned. ‘When?’
‘The letter didn’t say. But you gotta leave today … while Mother Hangtree is away …’ She stared at Gus as tears pooled in her eyes. She never thought she’d be telling her brother to run away. The words stabbed at her heart.
Gus squeezed her arm. ‘I’m going to pack now,’ he said. ‘Don’t tell anyone. Not until I’m far away from here. And remember, Kalinya, I’ll be back before you turn twelve, so don’t go anywhere!’
Poppy wondered how Gus could find them a new home and make it back in time for her birthday, which was only two months away. But she knew she had to trust him. He stood looking at her. Then he hurried away.
As tears ran down Poppy’s cheeks she called out, ‘And Moyhu, don’t you get caught this time, neither!’
MOTHER Hangtree glared at Poppy, then at Alice.
‘I left you in charge! How could he have run away again!’ she bellowed.
Alice’s face flushed scarlet. She stared at the floor.
‘I have a good mind to let you go, Alice.’
‘No … please Ma’am …’ She lifted her head then dropped it down again.
Mother Hangtree’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. ‘Well, let this be a warning to you then.’
‘Yes, Ma’am. Oh, thank you, Ma’am. It won’t happen again.’
‘You are dismissed, Alice.’
Alice curtsied, glanced sympathetically at Poppy and scuttled from the room.
The clock on the mantelpiece ticked loudly then chimed – ding, ding, ding, ding …
‘Silence!’ Mother Hangtree yelled. But the clock kept chiming until it had struck nine times.
Mother Hangtree stood in front of Poppy. ‘Thank heavens I only have to put up with you for a few more days,’ she said.
Poppy’s breath caught in her throat. ‘A few more days? What do you mean?’
‘A family is taking you with them to Sydney town.’
Poppy stared at Mother Hangtree in disbelief. Her mouth opened but no words came out.
‘They wanted you sooner but I told them I had a very important concert coming up. They are taking you immediately after that.’
‘But Mother, I won’t turn twelve until April.’ Poppy’s voice was only a whisper, now.
‘Be that as it may, the family want you now. I’ve already kept them waiting a month. They are a good Christian family and, provided you behave yourself, they should treat you well. Now go to bed, Poppy.’
As Poppy lay in her small bed, she thought of Iris and Fern, tw
o Bird Creek orphans who had already been taken away. No one had heard news of them since. There were stories, horrible stories of girls being beaten. Or even worse – being sold to men who treated them like slaves. Poppy was in despair. If they take me away, how will Gus find me? I’ll never see him again.
The day before the concert, Poppy sat up in the branches of the Spirit Tree.
‘Napu,’ she said, her cheek against the cool trunk of the tree. ‘It’s Kalinya. I’m going to be sent away to work as a servant girl and I’m scared, Napu. Moyhu has gone to look for gold. He says he’ll be back for me. But he’ll never find me in Sydney town. I don’t even know where that is.’ Tears filled Poppy’s eyes.
A crow, black plumage glistening, landed on the branch above her.
‘Gwaak gwaak, gwaak,’ its lonely voice called.
Gus had told her that the crow was the totem for their people. That’s why Poppy always watched them closely. The bird had a seed in its mouth. As it spread its wings it dropped the seed into Poppy’s lap. Then it flew away towards the eastern hills.
She placed the seed on her palm. It was red and shaped like a tiny heart. It was as if the crow had plucked out its own heart and left it behind for Poppy. She wondered if it was a message. Gus had told her to always be on the lookout for signs. But I’m not as smart as Gus and never will be, Poppy thought. She sighed.
At that moment, Johnny the Chinese peddler trotted down the track balancing two large bamboo baskets on a pole across his shoulders.
‘You like monkey up a tree,’ Johnny said, tipping back his wide-brimmed bamboo hat and smiling at her.
Poppy dropped the seed into her pinafore pocket and wiped the tears from her eyes. Then she jumped down and greeted Johnny as he came towards her.
He stopped suddenly and swung around, almost knocking Poppy over with one of his baskets.
‘Aiya, Johnny nearly forget.’ Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a dirty letter. ‘This for you,’ he said, and before she could ask him about it, he was off down the path.
How strange. Poppy had never received a letter before. She stared at it then turned it over. On the back was a seal. But it was different from the seals she had seen on the official letters Mother Hangtree kept in her writing box. This seal was made with red ink and it had a drawing of a tiger inside a square surrounded by other symbols. Poppy had never seen anything like it.
‘Hurry, Poppy,’ Blossom said, rushing up to her. ‘Don’t you want to see what Johnny has brought us today? What’s that in your hand?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Poppy said, slipping the letter up her sleeve. She didn’t want to show anyone the letter until she knew more about it. She was in enough trouble already.
‘Well, come on then,’ Blossom said and dragged Poppy by the hand.
The children had gathered on Mother Hangtree’s verandah. They were always excited when a peddler came to visit. Johnny unrolled a straw mat then laid out his wares. There were jars of preserved ginger, coloured silk handkerchiefs, lollies and licorice sticks, knives, fans and backscratchers. Each time Johnny pulled out something new from his baskets, the children’s eyes lit up.
Mother Hangtree must have been in a good mood for she bought a big bag of boiled sweets to share, a silk fan for Alice, and a backscratcher for Charley who was always rubbing up against fence posts like an old donkey with fleas. Lastly, she purchased thirteen silk kerchiefs for the children to wear at the very important concert.
Poppy pretended to be excited, but all she could think of was the mysterious letter Johnny had given her.
‘Look at me, Poppy,’ Blossom said, holding a corner of her pale pink kerchief. She began to dance.
Blossom reminded Poppy of a beautiful fairy in another of Mother Hangtree’s books called Book of the Enchanted.
A little while later, as soon as Poppy was alone, she took the letter out and opened it. Inside were rows and rows of more strange symbols, this time written in black ink with a brush. It was some kind of writing but in what language? Could it be Chinese?
She caught up to Johnny as he was leaving. ‘Who gave you this letter, Johnny?’ she asked.
‘A Chinese man. I not know him. He say, “You know half Chinese boy an’ girl at Bird Creek?” Johnny say, “Yes.” He say, “You give him letter.” ’
‘But … but I don’t understand … Johnny. Please, can you read it to me? What does it say?’ Poppy thrust the letter into the peddler’s hand.
Johnny laughed. ‘Very sorry. Johnny come from poor family. No can read.’ He gave the letter back to her then patted her hand. ‘It getting late. Johnny have many place to go. Joy gin.’ And he trotted off down the driveway.
Poppy clutched the letter tightly. She had so many unanswered questions, her head ached from the weight of them all. Who had given Johnny the letter? And what did all of those strange symbols mean? Johnny had said the letter was for her and Gus. How she wished that her brother was here. So many thoughts raced through her mind – the shock of being sent to Sydney town, the fear that Gus would never find her, and now this letter.
Gus, I have to find you, she thought. But first I have to break my promise and escape from Bird Creek before Mother Hangtree sends me away.
THE day of the concert arrived. The guests were sitting in the parlour having their afternoon tea.
‘What’s the matter, Poppy?’ Blossom asked, as the two girls walked towards Mother Hangtree’s residence. They were wearing their best white dresses with ribbons in their hair and the new silk kerchiefs tied around their necks. ‘You’re so quiet. Are you scared about singing your solo?’
‘You know I don’t get scared about singing,’ Poppy replied. ‘It’s just … there’s something I want to tell you, Bloss …’ Poppy hesitated a moment. ‘It’s a secret, though.’
‘Ooh, I love secrets, you know I do. What is it?’
‘It’s not the kind of secret that you’ll like,’ Poppy said. ‘And Bloss, you’re not to make a noise when I tell it to you, all right?’
Blossom nodded, her eyes bright with curiosity.
‘Well, Mother Hangtree has arranged for a family to take me away tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow!’
‘Shhhh … I told you not to make a noise.’ Blossom lowered her voice to a whisper.
‘But you won’t be twelve until April.’
‘That’s what I told her but she wants to get rid of me, just like she wanted to get rid of Gus.’
Blossom’s eyes filled with tears.
‘Don’t cry, Bloss. I have a plan.’
Blossom looked at Poppy. ‘You do?’
‘I’m going to escape, and when I find Gus, we’ll come back to Bird Creek and rescue you … all of you.’
‘But I’m the next girl to be sent away.’ Blossom’s voice was small like a little bird’s. ‘What if you don’t find him?’
‘Gus and me are brother and sister, aren’t we? And you know how we often think the same thought at exactly the same time? Well, I’ll send him messages with my thoughts, just as if I’m sending him a letter.’ Poppy knew this didn’t make sense at all, but Blossom seemed to brighten a little.
‘How are you going to get away when everything’s locked up at night?’ Blossom asked.
Poppy smiled and squeezed Blossom’s hand. ‘You’ll have to wait and see, Bloss.’ Then she gave her friend a long hug.
The very important visitors sat along the sofas. There was a lady and two gentlemen. One man wore brightly polished black leather boots, the other man had a wide curling moustache. The woman sat with hat and gloves in her lap, wearing a dark grey dress with a high-frilled collar.
There were scones topped with raspberry jam and freshly whipped cream laid out on a tiered china dish. The children’s mouths watered at the sight of the delicious afternoon tea. But Alice told them that it was only for the visitors as Mother Hangtree didn’t want to spoil them.
The children lined up in two rows in front of the fireplace. Being the soloist, Poppy stood i
n the middle. She looked over the heads of the very important visitors to a painting on the back wall. A man was carrying a hunting rifle, a spotted dog bounded through the rushes, and a pheasant lay on its side, wounded.
Mother Hangtree sat at the harmonium. ‘Mrs Featherlight, Mr Fortune, Mr Blamey. Welcome to Bird Creek Mission.’ She spoke in a high nervous voice. ‘The children have been looking forward to performing for you. So, without further ado, we will begin. The first song is called “The Bellbird Song”. Poppy is our soloist today. Ready, Poppy?’
Poppy nodded. Mother Hangtree played the introduction. But nobody could have guessed what followed.
There was complete silence.
Instead of singing her solo, Poppy looked blankly ahead, keeping her mouth firmly shut.
The children turned to look at her, then at each other.
‘Poppy, we are ready to begin, dear,’ Mother Hangtree said and played the introduction again.
Poppy fixed her gaze on the wounded pheasant in the painting.
The visitors stirred.
The legs of the stool grated on the floorboards as Mother Hangtree stood up. She walked across to Poppy and whispered in her ear. ‘I do not know what you are playing at, but you must stop this nonsense at once, do you hear?’
‘I don’t feel like singing today,’ Poppy replied.
Mother Hangtree’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. And her face turned red. She gripped Poppy’s arm until it hurt. ‘How dare you …’ But then, as if suddenly remembering the visitors, she smiled and turned around.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, control back in her voice. ‘I’m afraid the child is not feeling well. Just a slight cold, that is all. Please excuse us while I take her into another room to lie down. I will be back shortly.’
Mother Hangtree’s whole body shook with anger as she led Poppy to the Darkling Cellar.
‘That is the last time you humiliate me!’ she hissed. ‘You will receive neither food nor water.’ The door slammed, plunging the room into darkness.
Poppy was alone. She sat for a moment listening to Mother Hangtree’s footsteps growing fainter and fainter. Then she smiled.
Meet Poppy Page 2
