by Amanda Doyle
Riding out later, Clancy felt almost happy. She sang as she went along, bush ballads that she’d learned from the men down at the quarters, old Scottish and Irish songs too, which had been handed down from pioneer days by the homesick exiles, filled with nostalgia and longing for their native lands. She had an idea she was getting somewhere. Clancy Minnow, stupid, blind, innocent and easily fooled as she had been in the past, was proving herself useful at last. If only things worked out as she anticipated, she could strike a blow for Bunda Downs, and save Jed Seaforth a whole lot of trouble into the bargain. “I’ll take you home again, Kathleen,” trilled her thin voice sadly, although actually, at that moment, Clancy wasn’t feeling one bit sad.
She hadn’t banked on being quite so late out here, she told herself, as she slipped from the saddle. It was already mid-afternoon as her horse picked his careful path in her wake over the boulder-strewn ground towards the creek. Once there, she hitched his bridle to a fork in a mottled salmon-gum, and sat down in the shade to drink her tea and eat the sandwiches she had brought. In spite of having been wrapped in two lots of greaseproof paper, they were dried by the intense heat, the bread curling back at the edges, and what little butter had been spread on them had long since vanished. Clancy didn’t care about that. She ate them abstractedly, her mind on other things. Afterwards, she brushed the crumbs from the corners of her mouth, put the flask carefully back in her saddle-bag and led her horse over to the water for a long drink before she left him.
She followed Tamara’s directions as she made her agile way up the first gully into the gorges. It was a long time since Clancy had been there, and she didn’t know it as well as Tammy. They had decided together that it would be best for her to follow Tamara’s path exactly, even though it meant first arriving at the dead-end where the stream disappeared under the landslide of fallen rock, before she would climb up on to the ledges and skirt her way round by the left as Tammy had done.
There were numerous spurs and declivities, all confusingly alike, and as she pushed her way along beside the creek bed, through damp ferns and overhanging saplings, she thought she was taking longer than she should to reach her cul-de-sac. Longer than befitted Tamara’s description, anyway. She stood awhile in the gloomy coolness. The ledges of rock almost met above her head, and she had to bend nearly double as she went forward to avoid the fronds and tendrils of the plants that sprang from the crevices on either side.
Clancy stopped. This seemed altogether too narrow a place to be the main creekbed, she was sure. It should have occurred to her before. She began to retrace her path, and sure enough, some half an hour later, she came back on to the main stream from which she had somehow veered, and followed it doggedly, checking now and then on the scanty landmarks Tammy had been able to provide. Yes, this was better.
And here, indeed, was the landslide, a tumbled mass of rocks, vivid reds, oranges and yellow, liverish rusts and greys, under which the stream appeared to melt into nothingness and nowhere.
Clancy turned left, and began to seek footholds in the near-perpendicular wall of rock that rose above her. Methodically she climbed, choosing her handgrips carefully, testing each place with her boot before she put her full weight on it. Eventually, she emerged into the open once more, on a sandstone plateau with the range rising steeply on three sides.
This time the sun didn’t smite her. To her chagrin, Clancy saw that it was actually beginning to sink behind the hills.
Heavens! She must have been hours getting up here! If only she hadn’t taken the wrong branch following that wretched creek. She couldn’t go on, that was obvious.
She’d have to start back, right now, and hope that Tamara would cover up for her all right when she realised that she was going to be late. Clancy had foreseen this possibility, and Tammy would think of some plausible tale. She might even pretend that Clancy was sleeping in her room or something. Tammy wasn’t exactly suffering from lack of imagination, thought Clancy amusedly. With her inventive powers extraordinary she would manage to concoct some convincing explanation for her elder sister’s absence at the evening meal, and as long as Clancy was able to climb down to the creek again in the evening light, she could soon get back along the level ground to where her horse was tethered, before it was really dark.
She was more than half-way back across the scrub-strewn plain when the noise began in the ranges behind her.
At first it sounded like a far-off, phantom choir, singing away down somewhere in the gulley. The song was eerie, sad, wailing thinly. Presently the part-singers were joined by another choir in another gulley, a thin, treble choir this time, adding shrillness to the monotonously haunting theme. Another and another swelled the volume gradually, until the giant choir was singing in full voice, drowning the chant of the frogs down in the creek.
The wind had come.
It blew Clancy’s hair across her face, tugged savagely at the roots, till her scalp tingled. Her horse ambled broadside-on in an instinctive effort to avoid it.
And then the evening darkened, as the sand began to blow too. Great clouds of it were borne into the sky, blotting out the moon and stars. It bit into the back of Clancy’s neck, stinging, slapping at her bare arms, lashing her in suffocating waves. She rode on determinedly, keeping her gaze fixed steadfastly on the homestead lights, until the dustladen air blotted them out.
CHAPTER 13
JED ran the last leaping sheep through the race into the holding-yard, and pushed his hat back from his sweating brow. When he did that, his damp hair went back too, and Tamara could see the band of white at the top of his forehead where the sun never reached. It showed up clearly against the deep mahogany of his lean, weathered face. Tammy could never keep from staring at it. It was as white as her own skin, and she wished, how she wished, that she could go as brown in the sun as Jed did. Why did she have to have the sort of skin that goes with sandy-red pigtails and freckles—the sort you had to cover up in the really hot weather and protect all the time? It was mean, really. Even Clancy, who was honey-fair, took on the smooth golden tan of a mellow peach, yet all that Tammy often achieved was an unbecoming redness and peeling, after which she went an unsatisfactory sort of caramel.
“O.K., boss.” Rex handed Jed the stick he had been notching. Jed counted the notches.
“And sixty-seven. Nine hundred and sixty-seven,” he murmured, writing as he did so into the notebook from his breast pocket. He looked up then, to smile at Tamara.
“Well, offsider, that’s our day’s work done,” he told her. “Time to make for home, I guess.”
Rex swung into the saddle, and whistled the dogs, while Tammy went over to break camp and gather up the gear. She then sat back in the shade until Jed would give the signal to start back.
Tammy stretched happily. She had had a busy but rewarding day, and now she was tired with the pleasant, healthy tiredness of youth. She fondled the dog that came nosing pantingly up to her knee, and idly wondered how Clancy had got on. She hadn’t had time to think about it up till now, but she supposed she would be making her way back to the homestead over the plain by this time, if it was as late as it seemed by the sky. Funny, the sky, this evening. The sun hadn’t quite gone down, but it was not the gilt-edged, fiery orange ball that usually dropped slowly beneath the horizon after a hot day such as this. It was all kind of soft and hazy and spread out, diffusing a heavy, dirty, brownish glow over the heavens. A pall of stillness seemed to hang over the landscape, and the colours were muted to its own blend of brownness.
“Wind,” said Jed succinctly, coming up behind her and noting the direction of her gaze. “There’s going to be a dust-storm by the look of that sky. A good job we’ve finished here, and haven’t a mob to hold in overnight. It will probably blow over in a day or so, and we’ll be working farther out by then anyway. I’ll take that quart pot, Tam. You get your horse, and we’ll be off.”
Tamara mounted with her customary carelessness, and slumped in the saddle, sticking out her thin legs.
“Is Rex coming too?”
“Yes, he’ll catch us up in a minute. Tired?”
Tamara sighed contentedly.
“Mm, a bit,” she admitted. “Oh, Jed, I’ve had a gorgeous day, truly. It’s awful good fun being allowed to come with you, Johnny never lets me, and I get a bit tired of knocking about by myself. Clancy hardly ever leaves the house lately, and Sam and Nellie always want to walk, not ride, and they walk far faster than me, ‘cos their feet are bare and their soles are as tough as leather. I wish they hadn’t gone away, though, Jed. Do you think they’ll ever come back?”
Jed considered a moment. Then he said slowly, “Well, I think there’s a chance they might, Tam. A very good chance. We’ll need to see what we can do about it. There’s no doubt Jackie and Snowball are out at the north-east boundary, so they may have gone to join them there. Don’t be too sad about it, Tammy. Life’s full of changes, you know. We’ve got to learn to accept the inevitable ones. It’s all part of learning to live, accepting the new, sloughing the old if it’s not good enough to keep. That doesn’t mean we have to bow to the undesirable things in life, though, if it’s in our power to alter them.” Jed’s voice hardened momentarily, and Tammy, glancing across at the jutting jaw and craggy profile of the man riding beside her, wondered what he was thinking of exactly, to bring such a note to his voice. She rode in silence a moment, before saying thoughtfully, “I guess I know what you mean about—about changes, Jed. You hate the thought that there’s going to be a change. And then, when it happens, you suddenly find you like the change. You like it awful much. So you know then it was just the thought of it you didn’t like, the sort of wondering in your mind about what was going to happen. At least, that’s how it was when we heard about you coming, at any rate.”
“You didn’t like the idea much, then, Tam?” Jed turned in his saddle to watch her, amusement lurking in the depths of his blue eyes. Tamara, remembering her preconceived plans, for freezing him up and forcing him to an early retirement back to where he came from, blushed. She blushed so red that her freckles merged with the redness, and she squirmed in embarrassment.
“Well, no, not much,” she evaded, hastening to add, “But I do now, Jed, I do now. I just hope you’ll stay for ever ‘n ever now, Jed.”
“And what about Clancy?” he asked carefully.
“Clancy?” Tamara thought some more. “We-e-ell, Clancy didn’t really say much about it, not in front of me, that is.” She frowned, remembering. “But I don’t think she liked the idea any more than me, and nor did Johnny. In fact, he told Clancy not to worry, that there was a way out of things. He was just furious at the time.”
“Oh? And what was the way out to be, Tamara?” Jed’s voice was one of studied casualness, but his mouth looked positively grim.
“I don’t know,” she replied candidly. “They sent me out of the room. Johnny made me go. But I did hear him say there was a way out, and—and—something about being able to snap their fingers.” Tamara was suddenly, guiltily, aware that she was telling tales on Clancy, talking like this. She assured him eagerly, “But I felt like that too, Jed—in the beginning, that is.”
Jed was quiet for so long that Tamara’s mercurial mind had dealt with several other entirely different subjects before he spoke once more.
“Tammy, you say you like the change. You like things as they are now. What .about your big sister? How does she feel now?”
Tamara dragged her mind away from the fascinating idea of turning the deserted bark huts at the creek into her very own playhouse. She stared at Jed questioningly.
He asked again, patiently, “How is Clancy feeling about things now, Tammy? Is she happier too?”
“I don’t know, Jed. She’s never said anything, not lately,” was Tamara’s frank reply. She flushed a little as she admitted, with rueful honesty, “We don’t seem to have talked about things together much lately—not like we used to when Mummy was there. Clancy’s always busy ‘n everything, ‘n she never comes out much, ‘n she’s always too tired to talk when she comes to bed. Why, in the old days, we used to talk for hours, and every time we laughed, Mummy would yell to us to go to sleep. And then we’d whisper for a while until one of us said something awful funny, and then we’d forget and laugh out-loud again, and Mummy would call again. Clancy’s sort of—well—different now, I guess.”
Tamara sighed nostalgically, remembering, and Jed, for some reason, sighed too. They didn’t speak much after that. Rex galloped up to join them, and he and Jed talked spasmodically, while Tamara went back to mulling over her plans for her new play-hut, that is, if the blacks didn’t come back. She did wish they would, though, really.
As soon as she set foot on the veranda, Tamara sensed emptiness in the house. Dusk had fallen, and she switched on the light in the bedroom she shared with Clancy. No one there. She pulled off her jeans, fastened a cotton skirt over the shirt she had on, slipped her hot, bare feet into a pair of sandals, and went along to splash her face and hands in the bathroom. Clancy must have taken longer than she thought to do. Now she’d realise that Tamara couldn’t help being late for dinner the other evening. It looked as if Clancy was going to be the one to be late this time, though, and she and Tamara had made a pact about that.
Gosh! This meant that Tammy would have to get the evening meal herself, and fob off Jed and Johnny if they asked where Clancy was. Skin the lizards! She’d need to get a move on! thought Tammy importantly. She wiped haphazardly at her freckled complexion with the towel, thrust it back cm its rail, and made for the kitchen. There she poked around the shelves and cupboards, hoping for inspiration, trying to recall Clancy’s hurried suggestions to her that morning should this very situation eventuate. By the time Jed came up from the bungalow, showered and changed into a dazzlingly white shirt and pale cord trousers, she had heated tins of soup on the little kerosene stove, made some custard to go with the bowl of stewed prunes Clancy had left, put on a pan of potatoes to boil, and was busily engaged in slicing thin raw fillets from a leg of mutton to be dipped in egg and breadcrumb and quickly fried on the black range, the way she’d seen her sister do.
“Hullo, offsider,” Jed said. “Where’s Clancy?”
“Oh—er—Clancy’s not getting up for dinner. She meant to, but she must have dropped right off in bed this afternoon, and it was me that woke her, coming in. I never dreamed she’d still be asleep, an’ she seemed so surprised to see the time, an’ I said Clancy, why don’t you just stay there, I can get the dinner and bring you some over, and she said was I really sure, and I said of course I was, I’m eleven aren’t I, and she said well, that would be marvellous just this once, and then she turned over and shut her eyes again, an’ so I’m getting the dinner all by myself, and it won’t be long now, so you can read in the sitting-room until I’m ready, if you like, Jed.”
Tamara stopped for want of breath, and Jed, grinning, tugged playfully at her pigtails.
“Is that the way?” he said. “Well, of course you’re a big girl, and easily able to get the dinner; and no one’s more pleased than I am to hear that Clancy’s having a rest from the kitchen. Now, Tammy, seeing you’ve been my offsider all day, I’ll be yours for a change. Show me where the cutlery and stuff is kept, and I’ll set the table for you, and a tray for Clancy.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her dumbfounded expression. “Don’t you think I’m capable of even doing that? I’ll show you how domesticated I can be, my doubting little madam!” he challenged her, pretending to be very offended at her lack of enthusiasm.
Tamara gave an abstracted grin. Gosh, that was a near one! She’d never even thought of a tray for Clancy, seeing she wasn’t really there at all. Just as well Jed had mentioned it, and she’d need to put a serving of dinner on it, too, and carry it over to her room to be really convincing. She only hoped Clancy would be able to sneak in in the darkness undetected! Suddenly it all became an amusing game to Tamara, like preparing a meal for an imaginary doll when she was little. She began to tak
e a delight in seeing just how thoroughly she could play it!
In the end, though, it wasn’t much fun after all. First, she took a tray, heaped with generous portions, over to the bedroom to be demolished by a non-existent Clancy. Then she came back, and rang the cowbell for Johnny. She rang it and rang it, but Johnny never came. At last she carried his plate of cold soup back to the kitchen, and, sitting alone with Jed, thought rather dismally of the congealing food on her sister’s tray. Just fancy, cooking all that dinner, and in the end, only two of them there to eat it, she fretted to herself resentfully. She was hot and sticky from leaning over the stove, and nervously excited after her solo effort at preparing the meal, and she also had the unenticing prospect of all the washing-up before her.
Afterwards, Jed helped her with it, despatching her for Clancy’s tray, while he poured a generous dollop of detergent into the washing-up bowl.
Over in her bedroom once more, staring at the plates of untouched food, Tammy scratched her head doubtfully. She was almost tempted to confess her deception to Jed then and there. But no, she couldn’t do that. She had promised her sister faithfully—given her right hand of honour—not to tell a living soul until Clancy said she could. What had Clancy actually said? Something about it not being safe, maybe. Well, she had better not risk it in that case, and anyway, Clancy in her turn had promised that when the time came for telling, Tamara could be the one to do it. Tammy brightened at that, pulled out a sheet of newspaper that lined her top drawer, and pushed the clothes back in. Then she laid the paper on the floor and swept the food on to it.
Jed’s face was comic as he eyed the stack of empty plates.
“You must be quite a cook,” he remarked dryly. Maybe he mistook Tammy’s somewhat anxious expression for one of hurt dignity in case he was poking fun at her, for he hastened to add, “And I think so, too, Tam. I thoroughly enjoyed my dinner too.”
