A Fortunate Life

by A B Facey

  When we had something to eat they all sat around, and I had to explain what happened and how I managed to stay alive. When I finished telling them my story they all agreed that the kangaroo meat saved me and also that I shouldn’t have hidden from the black man. They said he would have taken me to safety. After the herders had gone out to relieve the four who took the first shift, Arthur and I put our beds down and turned in for the night. I was very tired and felt very weak. I was soon sound asleep.

  35

  BACK TO WORK

  Next day I was back into my usual routine of leading the spare horses and helping Arthur. He made me take things easy, on the Boss’s orders. Arthur told me that they had lost about two and a half days getting the herd rounded up and back together again after the stampede. They had found eight head killed in the stampede, and three others had to be destroyed because they had broken legs. One of those was a young bullock which was butchered for meat and wasn’t a complete loss. It wouldn’t be known for sure how many they had lost until the end of the drive when there would be a final count. Arthur said that the herd was now around the two thousand mark (three stations had sent herds to join the drive while I was lost), and we had about five hundred miles to go.

  He pointed to a rough looking mountain range ahead and said, ‘That’s the Kennedy Range. We go east of that and then it is good going except for the crossing of the Gascoyne and the Murchison Rivers.

  I asked Arthur if he knew the date and he said he thought we were in May. The Boss told us that night that the date was the third of May. (He kept a diary of daily happenings.)

  The Boss often came to me to ask how I was and to tell Arthur to look after me. He told me that he was very worried while I was lost, but now that I was back with them safe and sound he felt good.

  Six days later we came to the Kennedy Ranges. The weather was very cool and travelling was pleasant. The cattle were all looking fine. The Boss said he was very pleased with the way things were turning out.

  The next week brought us to the junction of the Gascoyne and Lyons Rivers. The Boss sent Stan on ahead to see what the crossing would be like for the cattle – he hoped to take them across the following day. Stan returned that night and reported that he had found a place to cross where the river was about two feet six inches deep and about three quarters of a mile wide. On this report the Boss decided to camp near the river and take the herd over in the morning. So, on the seventeenth day of May, we crossed the Gascoyne with just over two thousand head of cattle.

  Arthur told me that we now had about ninety miles to go to the Great Northern Coast stock route. From there on there would be two or three small water-courses to cross, then the Murchison River which was our only real worry. If the weather held out we should have no trouble, Arthur said. If we had another rain storm like the one when I got lost, we might have to wait until the water level dropped. Arthur said that cattle don’t mind water so long as they don’t have to swim and as long as they can touch the bottom. They will walk across with a bit of coaxing, but when they have to swim they turn to the nearest way out, which is mostly back to where they have just left.

  The next few days went well. However, we were crossing through cattle country so the Boss had put two extra men on the scouting team to help clear any station stock. Our progress was very slow. (When the herd was spread out grazing it was at least one mile wide and a mile long. This will give some idea of the big job the drovers had.)

  Towards the end of May we arrived at a point inland from the sea near Hamelin Pool. We were now on the Great Northern Coast stock route. The weather was fine and cool and we hadn’t had any storms since I was lost. The small water-courses were back to their normal level, the cattle were all looking fine and I was feeling quite strong again.

  The scouts’ job was a little easier now. With the sea a few miles to the west of the route, they had only the east side and the front of the herd to watch. We had only one drover on the coast side looking for strays.

  One evening in early June, the Boss asked Arthur to limit our day’s travel to eight miles. He said that the cattle were getting near prime condition and we must keep them that way. He expected us to be in Geraldton near the end of the month. We were twelve days covering the next hundred miles. The stock feed was plentiful and the cattle looked in tip-top condition. Another small herd had joined us and the Boss said that it was the last we would take. He didn’t expect any more.

  We reached the Murchison River and Arthur picked out a good camping spot. Then he took his horse and rode along the river to have a look at the possibilities of crossing. He left me to tether the mules and spare horses, and build a fire. A few minutes after Arthur returned the Boss came in. They decided that we would have to take the cattle east along the river for about four miles to where the river was very wide and shallow enough to take them across.

  The next morning the herd was driven along the river to this spot. We had a job getting the cattle across. In fact, it was almost sundown that day before the crossing was complete. The trouble was that for the first few yards the water was deep – up to the cattle’s backs – and they didn’t like it. I had never heard so much shouting and swearing in my life. The men were swearing at one another and at the cattle, and this went on until the Boss made them cut it out. He ordered them to cut off a hundred or so head at a time, and drive them across as a group. Some men were left watching the main herd, then as each mob got across, two men were left to mind them until the next lot came across. That’s how we crossed the Murchison River. As usual we used a lead cow. The cow on the lead had to go back and come over in front of each lot to show them the way – she must have crossed eight or ten times. At first a hundred came over with her but later on three to four hundred at a time would follow.

  That night we camped close to where we had crossed, and next day went west on the south side of the river, back to the coastal stock route. From this point we were about eighty miles from our goal, Geraldton. The men herded the cattle that night in a large bend of the river just below where we had crossed. The bend was like a big elbow – the river wound and came back within a quarter of a mile of itself, forming a place where the cattle could graze, and the herders only had to ride back and forth across one side.

  Next day everything went well. We let the cattle make their own time. We hadn’t crossed the Murchison any too soon, because two days after the crossing we got heavy rain. It rained all one day and half that night and even the small creeks were in flood.

  Five days out of Geraldton we had to take the cattle about four miles inland from the stock route on account of the railway that ran along the coast from Geraldton to a tin mine. The trains made such a noise it might have made the cattle stampede.

  The day before we were due to arrive in Geraldton, the Boss rode ahead to make arrangements for the delivery of the cattle. He stayed in town that night and rode out to meet us early the next morning. Arthur and I were about two miles ahead of the herd when the Boss came back. He told Arthur where to go and make camp – in an old barn-like hut in a paddock. Arthur said this hut was about two miles out of Geraldton and that the cattle would be put into holding paddocks. The firms that handle the sale of the cattle have these paddocks and the cattle stay there until they are sold and shipped away or disposed of.

  So that night the drovers delivered the cattle into several paddocks. The herd was divided into different lots, each lot being put into the paddock most suitable for them. That night the Boss explained that our job wasn’t finished until the cattle had been classed, valued or sold, and he expected that it would take about two or more weeks to complete our contract.

  My job was now easy – all I had to do was help Arthur. All our mules and horses were tethered out in a paddock of their own. The Boss told us we were not to go into Geraldton without his permission. Then he said, ‘The only one who is allowed into Geraldton is Bert. He will have to go for fresh meat and bread first thing in the morning, so anything you need Bert can get it
for you. I have fixed it up with the storekeeper, he will book it all up to me until we have disposed of the cattle.’ He said, ‘Anyone that goes into town without my permission will lose his share of the bonus.’

  The bonus was paid to the boss based on the number of head considered to be in prime condition on delivery, and also a percentage of the price paid above the set amount for each head. The Boss was also allowed one head of cattle per hundred as a loss. If he lost more than that he had to make it up before settlement. Also, any cattle that managed to stray into the herd unbranded or not earmarked were considered the Boss’s property and could be sold by him. All these payments together made up the bonus, and the Boss agreed to divide equally the total amount received, among the white drovers that stayed through the whole drive. There were five white men including the Boss and me, but I didn’t think that I would be in the bonus as the Boss had never mentioned it to me. Arthur was sure that I would be included in the sharing. Anyway, I would have to wait and see.

  36

  THE DRIVE ENDS

  We all had a wonderful night’s rest, and the next morning I caught Dinnie and one pack mule, saddled up and set off to town with a long list of stores and other things that the men wanted. Arthur wrote everything down for me. On arriving in Geraldton I went straight to Mrs Stafford’s Coffee Palace. She was delighted to see me and said I had to tell her all about the trip. I didn’t have time to tell her very much but I promised to try and get one evening off. She invited me to come to dinner one evening and have the talk of our lives. She said my tin trunk and things were still there and were all right.

  I arrived back at camp about eleven o’clock that morning. Arthur was busy getting ready for the lunch and the Boss and the drovers were all out with the cattle. They had to sort out the bullocks from the cows and also the prime beef from those not yet in prime condition. When the cattle were sorted into their various grades, they would be put into paddocks of their own so they could be easily driven to the sale-yards. Near where we camped there were large stockyards and a crush for handling and marking. (They used a kind of paint for marking and there were many different colours.)

  The sorting, grading and marking took four days. We were all very busy while this went on – I had to go to Geraldton twice, help Arthur, and also help with driving the graded and marked cattle into their various holding paddocks.

  Then, on the fifth day of July, roughly six hundred head of prime bullocks were taken into the sale-yards. Just before midday, when they were all counted and ready for the sale, we all went to Mrs Stafford’s Coffee Palace for lunch (all except Arthur and one of the blacks). It was while we were having lunch that I plucked up enough courage to ask the Boss for an evening off to put in with Mrs Stafford. He gave me the next evening off.

  The sale started that afternoon at two o’clock but we didn’t stop for it. The Boss and Stan stayed but the rest of us had to go back to camp and start preparing another lot for sale. They expected to hold three sales each week until the lot were sold.

  Darkey was in charge when the Boss and Stan were away. Stan was the Boss’s right-hand man and was always the head man when the Boss was away. Darkey was next in charge. I heard him tell George that the Boss was extra pleased with the whole drive – it was the most successful drive he had ever had. The Boss had said that, ‘Only for the kid getting lost and the stampede it would have been perfect.’ Hearing myself referred to as ‘the kid’ made me feel bad. I didn’t think it was my fault about the cattle stampeding and I didn’t get lost on purpose.

  That night I told Arthur that the Boss had given me permission to have the following evening with Mrs Stafford. Arthur gave me a list of stores he wanted the next day, and told me to go in early and get the things before the store closed, and bring them back with me when I came back to camp that night. The next afternoon I left camp about three o’clock got the stores and strapped them onto the pack mule. Then I put the mule and Dinnie in the stable at the back of Mrs Stafford’s place and by the time I had done this, dinner was on. I went into the kitchen and had my meal with Mrs Stafford, her daughter Jean, and Mary.

  They wanted to know all about how I got lost and found, and how I lived – a hundred questions. When we finished dinner I helped the girls to wash up. Then we retired to the sitting-room and I explained all about the drive, the storm, getting lost and getting found. They just sat and listened and hardly said a word until I finished. I was usually very shy when talking to ladies but with these people I felt quite at home and had no shyness at all. When I had told of my experiences they asked me all sorts of questions.

  After awhile, I asked Mrs Stafford if she had seen or heard anything of old Bill and May at Mullewa. She told me that they had married and that Bill had got that job managing a cattle station about one hundred miles east of Mullewa. She said that they were very happy. I told her that I had promised to go and see them when the drive had finished but there was no way to getting to where they were, as I intended going back to Perth when I finished with Bob McInnis. I asked Mrs Stafford did she know how I could get a message to them. She said that if I liked, she would write a letter for me before I left for Perth. I thanked her and she said, ‘You can tell me what you would like me to write.’ She knew I hadn’t any schooling and that while I had been on the drive I hadn’t had a chance to learn any more about reading and writing. All of a sudden I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and the time had gone like a few minutes. Believe it or not it was half past ten. So I thanked them for the lovely evening and promised to come again another time.

  It was close to midnight when I arrived back at camp, and Arthur got out of bed and helped me to unload the mule and put the stores away. He said, ‘They’re taking another lot of bullocks to be sold in the the morning, so it looks like a busy day. You better get some sleep.’ Then he asked me if I had a good time. I told him that the evening went so quick we didn’t realise how late it was. I said that I enjoyed myself and that Mrs Stafford was a lovely woman.

  We were all woken early next morning when it was still dark. The blacks got our saddles and horses and Arthur and I prepared a beautiful breakfast of eggs and bacon, and bread and butter – this was something we all enjoyed after the rough and ready meals on the drive. We all had to help except Arthur. The Boss told him that all who were taking the cattle in today would have lunch at Mrs Stafford’s Coffee Palace so he could have a rest. We took about nine hundred head in, some five hundred bullocks and about four hundred prime cows. The delivery took us until midday and after lunch we all went back to camp, except the Boss and Stan, who stayed to watch the sale.

  On our way back to camp Darkey told us that we should finish early the next week. George asked me what I was going to do. I said I hadn’t made up my mind yet but I thought about going back to Perth for a few weeks, then make up my mind from there. The men were growling about not getting any money until all the cattle were sold. I told Arthur about this when we arrived back in camp and he said, ‘If them blokes get their money now they won’t be able to do anything because they will be blind drunk, and it would be weeks before they would be any use to the Boss. He knows that. He’s had trouble before over booze.’

  Arthur asked me if anyone had told me how successful the drive had been. When I said no, he told me that the cattle delivered to us on the drive (according to the statements handed to the Boss by the head man in charge of each herd that joined our drive) amounted to two thousand four hundred and sixty-one. ‘But,’ Arthur said, ‘on the tally we have two thousand four hundred and ninety-one, so we have a surplus of thirty-eight head, and twenty-two of them are clean skins (unbranded). He continued, ‘Has the Boss said anything to you about being included in the bonus?’ I said, ‘No, why?’ ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘we was wondering. The boys and I think you should be.’

  On the fourteenth of June we delivered the last of the cattle, mostly cows. That day we stayed at the sale-yards to see the cattle sold. There was a big demand for cows on account of the hund
reds of new settlers down south. Two large stockbroker firms conducted the sales (Elder Shenton and Company and Dalgety’s Company Limited). All the cattle were in demand. Stan remarked that the prices they had fetched were the best he had ever known.

  So, two days later the company agents came out to the camp, and they and the Boss and Stan sat around a table. They were all there for about two hours and when they went away the Boss called us in and we got our pay. The blacks were paid first, then Stan, Darkey, George and Arthur. Then the Boss called me up to the table and said, ‘Well, Bert, this is the best day of them all – pay-day. You’ve been twenty-eight weeks with me. That makes your wages twenty-eight pounds. Now the other men and I think you should be included in the bonus so I added twenty-two pounds. That makes your total fifty pounds. Are you satisfied with that?’ I said, ‘Oh yes, Boss. That’s fine and thank you very much.’ Just think of my amazement when he counted out fifty sovereigns onto the table. I stood there sort of stunned. I had never seen so many sovereigns all at once before. The Boss broke the silence saying, ‘You’ve earnt it Bert. You are a good lad and if you like you can come and work on my place in Mullewa. Think it over and let me know tomorrow.’

  I went out and all the men had already left for Geraldton, except two blacks. I had some lunch and cleaned up the dishes we used and the Boss said, ‘You and I have a job to do in Geraldton, Bert. After that you are free to do what you like.’

  This puzzled me. What is there he wants me to do, I thought. As we rode along he said, ‘I suppose you are wondering what this is all about. Well I should have told you before. We have to give the Police Sergeant at Geraldton a full report about you being lost. Stan has to be with us too. Don’t worry, it is only a formality. They were arranging a search-party, but you were found before they could get started. As you know it rained for nearly three days after the stampede and we were not able to get a message through. It was five days before the police were notified, and then they had to get a black-tracker. On the seventh day, just before the search was due to start, a policeman at Carnarvon sent a message through to say that a black man said he had seen a smoke signal to say you had been found. So now the police want a firsthand statement to show their superiors.’