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Hannah

Page 18

by Raymond Clarke


  ‘I see it.’ He rose, hand up shading his eyes. ‘Look, Hannah. There’s another one.’

  ‘Kangaroos on our land,’ she gasped, clutching his arm. ‘Who would have believed it?

  ‘Aren’t they strange looking though, the way they jump but they’re so fast, too. They only come out at dusk and dawn and . . .’ He rubbed his chin in thought. ‘They make good eating so Toby says.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Hannah’s eyes brightened. ‘Kangaroo stew, huh? Now there’s a thought.’

  ‘I’ve got another thought right now.’ He rose and threw tea leaves on the grass.

  ‘What’s that?’ She also rose to her feet.

  ‘We’ve got a lot of work to do.’

  ‘Well, let’s get on with it,’ she laughed and playfully punched his arm.

  In the first few days, they scoured every inch of their new world finding something new, different and exciting and noted, with admiration, some of the more conspicuous features. They picked out landmarks, a stately ironbark, three red gums together, a rock pile, a nest of ant heaps and a cluster of wild acacias. All these features were visible from their hut on the rise. They marked out a section that Daniel was required to clear and cultivate as a requirement of the land grant. ‘It’s low ground here,’ he said, as Hannah, Charlotte and the dog followed him through the moist undergrowth. ‘It will be flood prone.’

  They pushed on through the tall grass, Hannah with Charlotte in her arms, searching for something to define their south boundary but there was no marking that they could see. ‘Does anyone live on this side of us?’ Hannah asked.

  Daniel shook his head. ‘No, not as far as we know.’ He swished ahead with a stick, flattening the grass. ‘We’ll have to ask Toby next time he comes. He’ll—’ He reeled back onto Hannah almost knocking her and Charlotte to the ground. ‘Snake,’ he yelled. ‘Get back, get back.’ He struck at the coiled black shape with the cudgel he’d meticulously carved for just such purpose. ‘Damn,’ he snarled. ‘It’s gone, Hannah. I missed it. Damn.’

  ‘Let it go.’ Hannah tugged at his shirt. ‘Let it go, Daniel. Good riddance. For God’s sake, Daniel, MOVE. Let’s get out of this cursed grass. Charlie, don’t cry, love.’

  Back in the clearing, Daniel stopped. ‘Is everybody good?’

  Hannah grimaced, not replying, continuing to stride ahead, Charlotte in her arms.

  ‘Toby did say there was the odd black snake around,’ he shouted, following along behind her. ‘They like near the creek, apparently. Ah, come on, Hannah...’ He walked faster to catch up with her. ‘Look.’ He tried to take her arm but she pulled away. ‘It’s only a damn snake. It’s probably more scared of us than we are of it.’

  ‘Well, mister.’ Hannah stopped to face him. ‘That may be true but I don’t like those creepy things. Besides, it is Charlie that I’m worried about as you should be.’

  ‘Of course, I worry. We won’t take her through the thick grass again until it is cut. Hey, come on, I’ll make you a cudgel just like mine,’ he grinned, eyes seeking hers.

  ‘A responsive smile spread on her face. ‘You . . .’ she made a mock motion forward. ‘Here, take your daughter and give me that cudgel. I want to hit you on the head with it for leading us into danger with that terrible serpent.’

  Daniel laughed, pulling them both close. ‘You wouldn’t hit your old man, would you?’

  ‘Well . . .’ she replied thoughtfully. ‘I guess not unless I had a good reason.’

  ‘You know something?’ Daniel released her to look into her face. ‘I’ll bet you that before too long that you will be killing snakes like you kill cockroaches and you won’t give it a second thought.

  ‘You want to bet me?’

  ‘Sure I’ll gamble with you. What’s the prize when I win?’

  ‘You haven’t won yet. You’ve got to prove yourself first. After that, we’ll see.’

  ‘Humph. Oh, well, let’s get off these creepy, evil snakes. It gives me shudders. Daniel, let’s talk about a necessary thing we have to get. We need a cow or at least a goat because Charlotte has to have fresh milk. She needs it and I need to make butter.’

  ‘Yes.’ Daniel’s face grew serious. ‘But cows are dear, Hannah, about two pounds, I think, but a goat? Well . . .’ He rubbed at his chin. ‘Let’s make a list of what we need and then we’ll see.’ He gave her a quizzical appraisal. ‘Can you really make butter?’

  ‘I was born—’

  ‘On a farm,’ he finished for her, smile returning. ‘I remember.’ He put his arm around his wife and daughter. ‘Let’s go back. I think I need a nice drop of tea to calm my nerves after that fight with the snake.’

  ‘You do?’ Hannah snorted. ‘What about me and our daughter? You knocked us down into the grass and you didn’t kill that . . . that thing. It’s still down there waiting for us. It’ll be in the hut tonight, I suppose.’

  ‘Come on,’ Daniel laughed and together they strolled back to the hut. Even Charlotte joined in the merriment. ‘Mummy, snake,’ she said, pointing to Daniel.

  The day they got the cow was a red-letter day for the Clarke family. Hannah thought it was a fine beginning. ‘No farm is complete without a house cow,’ she told Daniel. ‘Did she cause any trouble on the road?’

  ‘No. She just followed along behind me just chewing her cud.’

  Hannah walked around the young jersey, checking it from all sides, and muttering to herself.

  ‘Is it a good one, well?’ Daniel asked, impressed by his wife’s professional approach.

  ‘Yes.’ She stooped low to check the udders. ‘Ah, they’re good, no cracks there.’ She rose and patted the golden-brown rump. ‘She’s small but fine-boned and she’ll give good milk, this one.’ Hannah stepped back to look into the animals soft brown eyes. ‘Now, what are we going to call you, I wonder?’

  ‘Up to you,’ he said. ‘It’s your cow. I’m just the delivery man. I only had to walk eight miles there and back to bring her here.’

  ‘Well, bully for you. I know. I’ll call her Sarah. Yeah, Sarah, that’s a good name.’ She laughed.

  ‘What? Not after John Bridges’ Sarah? Do you think she’ll be pleased that a cow was named after her?’

  ‘She would be pleased. This cow’s like Sarah, because she’s so friendly. Have a look at those beautiful brown eyes.’

  ‘Yeah, great. I’m overcome with joy.’ Daniel gave a wry grin and hoisted the axe. ‘I’m off to slab those red gums. Come on, dog.’ He turned. ‘By the way, you haven’t named this dog yet.’

  ‘You do it.’ She looped a rope on Sarah. ‘Or let Charlie name it. It’s her dog.’

  ‘I heard her call it Blue the other day now so I suppose—’

  ‘I like it,’ she said, ‘Sarah and Blue. Now, there’s a good pair.’

  ‘Sounds like an old married couple,’ he grinned, and walked away down the track.

  ‘Be careful of snakes, mister,’ she warned, and he raised a hand in lazy response.

  Toby came one cold winter’s morning in June, not in his dray but sitting beside the vicar who’d married them. The Reverend Robert Cartwright gave the family a keen appraisal as he brought the sulky to a stop. ‘Whoa there,’ he ordered the shiny-coated skittish black horse. ‘I brought you a few victuals,’ he said, jumping down ‘Toby, pass that sack down if you will. Here you are, Hannah, nothing flash—’

  ‘But edible.’ Toby grinned, then eyed the dog closely. ‘For sure, that dog’s grown. You must be feedin’ it well and . . .’ He shot a glance at the refurbished hut. ‘You’ve done marvels with that. It looks flash, bigger now and you’ve made some furniture too.’

  ‘Thanks, Toby, but Daniel did most of it,’ Hannah admitted. ‘He’s marvellous with his hands, this husband of mine—’

  ‘Ah, shucks, Hannah. You’ll have me blushing in a minute. Daniel looked around the faces. ‘All I did was to follow my wife’s orders. Do this and do that, all day long.’ He looked lovingly at Hannah and she rolled her eyes in response. ‘A
good team effort,’ he added.

  The Anglican priest looked from one to another. Nothing wrong with this marriage, he thought. Thank God for that. They sat at the large table that Daniel had hewed from red gum and drank the sweet, black tea. ‘It’s beautiful here and peaceful in the valley,’ the vicar said, looking around. ‘You’ve done well with it. I see pumpkins and corn growing.’

  ‘Aye, you have.’ Toby patted the dog absently but Hannah and Daniel could see he had something on his mind. ‘Look, you’ve got to know, better soon than later.’ He shot a knowing glance at the vicar.

  ‘What is it, Toby,’ Hannah asked anxiously.

  ‘The blacks have crossed the river and are causing trouble. They’re fighting with another tribe so I believe and when they’re not doing that, they’re entering the farms. Jim Ellis . . . you know his block up on Little Cattai Creek? He fought them off, him and his two sons Will and Ned. They wounded a couple so they say.’ He glanced at Hannah, noting her face had paled. ‘Look, I don’t want to scare but ye just have to be prepared. Okay?’ His eyes moved to Daniel. ‘If things get out of hand, Daniel, we are suggesting that the women and children . . .’ Toby’s eyes strayed to Charlotte sitting on the log, a lolling Blue resting at her feet. ‘Come in to town—’

  ‘I won’t leave my husband,’ Hannah said, matter-of-factly. She reached for Daniel’s hand and held it. ‘Wherever he goes, I go.’

  ‘Yes, but, Hannah, we must consider young Charlotte.’ The vicar said. ‘She could come back with us today and Mrs. Cartwright would be happy to look after her until the military say the danger is over—’

  ‘I want to stop with Mummy and Daddy.’ Charlotte ran to clutch her mother’s skirts.

  ‘Hush, baby, it is okay. Nobody’s going anywhere.’ She stooped to hug her child.

  ‘How long before it’ll be safe?’ Daniel asked, eyes hard.

  ‘We can’t tell ye, Daniel,’ Toby grunted. ‘My best guess is only a few days but the detachment in Richmond is out looking for ‘em. The soldiers will call in here sometime soon. They are going around all the blocks. Look, I think Bob’s right.’ He leaned forward, holding their gaze. ‘Ye could if you want to — all of ye mind — come into town and stop there.’

  ‘No, Toby, we can’t.’ Daniel shook his head. ‘We’ve got a cow and a horse and we’ve just planted more corn and some maize in the south paddock and look at Hannah’s garden. Her cabbages and carrots are shooting. No, thanks anyway. We’ll stay.’

  ‘Well, if that’s the case.’ Toby walked over to the vicar’s sulky and pulled out a long-barreled musket from under the seat. ‘This here is on loan from me. It’s a Brown Bess, Daniel. And here’s a pouch of paper cartridges and balls.’ Toby added, waving Daniel’s protest aside. ‘No take it. Look, this is how ye load it. See this. Watch me now. Rip the cartridge and load the powder. Okay? Then ram down the ball. Just like this. See?’ He passed the rifle and shot to Daniel. ‘Practice that. You know, if you’re good, you can get two shots off every minute, maybe three.’ His eyes fixed on Daniel, assessing him. ‘It could save ye life and that of ye family.’ He was pleased to read the acceptance in Daniel’s face as he took the weapon.

  ‘We all hope and pray that you won’t have to use it, Daniel,’ the vicar said. ‘But if you do, fire over their heads and may the good God protect you and your family.’ The voice faded and he nodded. ‘Remember that the Aborigines are God’s children the same as we are but they are, alas, still savages.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Toby rose and pulled the brim of his cabbage tree hat down. ‘We’ll be off, now, won’t we, vicar? We’ve got other calls to make, to warn others. Oh, something else. Have ye been over to the Dalgety’s place yet?’ He waved towards the north.

  ‘No, not yet, we’ve been too busy,’ Daniel said.

  ‘You’d better pop in because they’re stopping too.’ He laughed, showing a mouth full of tobacco-stained teeth. ‘You’d never get them off their land.’

  ‘Nor will we go, Toby.’ Hannah put an arm around Daniel and he nodded.

  ‘I don’t think ye ever will now,’ Toby said, respect in his voice. ‘But be careful. That’s all we ask.’

  ‘Yes, we will and thank you both.’They shook hands and Toby and the vicar climbed back in the sulky.

  ‘Aren’t you frightened driving around alone?’ Hannah asked as they turned to leave.

  ‘No way,’ Toby laughed, ‘not while I’ve got these.’ He drew a pair of elaborately carved percussion pistols from the rear of the seat. ‘Besides, God’s on our side, isn’t he, Vicar Bob?’

  ‘Aye, that we have but as a wise man once said God helps those who help themselves and we’re practicing that philosophy.’ The vicar smiled and touched his hat. ‘Take care, good people.’

  Daniel and Hannah stood, arms around each other, and watched them leave. Suddenly, the isolation of their farm prompted Hannah’s fears. ‘Do you think we’re doing the right thing staying, Daniel?’ she asked, watching his face.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, emphatic. ‘We’ve got too much to lose to leave here now after all we’ve done and so much more to do.’ He touched her cheek tenderly. ‘Tomorrow, though, my love, we’ll go and see these mysterious neighbors of ours, the Dalgetys, and see what they’ve got to say about this business with the blacks.’

  ‘That could be interesting,’ she said, eyes brightening. ‘Come, let’s eat. I’m starving.’

  At mid-morning the following day, they tied up the dog and walked out on to the road. Blue whimpered until they were out of sight. At the pile of rocks that Toby had designated as their north western boundary, they turned, Daniel carrying Charlotte piggy-back on his shoulders, and followed a rutted track.

  They walked on through scattered woodland of eucalyptus, paper-barks and she-oaks to a smoking chimney in the distance. The bend in the track revealed a large stone house and dogs barking, threatening deep-throated bays that chilled Hannah to the bone.

  ‘We’d better not go in, Daniel,’ she said, tremor in her voice. ‘They sound vicious.’

  Daniel strained his eyes to look ahead. ‘They’re tied up, two of them. It’ll be okay.’

  ‘At least they know we’re coming, with all that noise,’ Hannah said hopefully and they moved on towards the house.

  The dogs threshed at the restraints as they neared, sinister growls emanating from deep in the throats of snapping jaws. ‘Shut up.’ A snarled order caused the noise to reduce to a low, still-threatening drone. The door swung back with a bang and a silver-haired short, heavily-muscled man in moleskins, and a cabbage-tree hat, came out on the porch.

  ‘G’day.’ He stood there assessing them closely, eyes racing up and down. ‘I reckon you’re the next door lot. Well, I thought you’d be over, sooner or later.’

  Daniel lowered Charlotte to the ground, straightened and held out his hand. ‘I’m Daniel Clarke.’ They shook hands firmly and Daniel introduced Hannah and his daughter.

  ‘I am pleased to meet you all. I’m Herbert Dalgety. Everyone calls me Herb.’ He turned to yell through the open door. ‘Hey, get out here, we’ve got visitors.’ There was a scramble from within the house and two strapping young men and a fair-haired woman in her twenties came out to stand by him. ‘This here’s my family.’ Herb grinned. ‘They are my sons Rube and Olly and Henrietta who is married to Olly.’ He turned to his daughter-in-law. ‘Is there a teapot on, Hen? Yes? There is? Come in.’ Herb waved towards the house. ‘Have a cuppa and . . .’ His eyes sought Daniel’s. ‘Afterwards, Daniel, you and I need to talk about things.’

  They followed the Dalgetys into a surprisingly spacious kitchen and Henrietta scurried around to prepare tea. ‘Please don’t go to any trouble.’ Hannah’s eyes following her, grateful to see another woman in this wilderness dominated by men. ‘Can I help you?’ She asked, easing Charlotte off her knee.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Henrietta replied. ‘You take a seat there.’ She stooped to Charlotte, her face broadening into a deep smile. ‘Would you like a glass of
milk? It’s fresh this morning.’

  ‘Yes.’ Charlotte’s dark eyes focused interestingly on the strange woman.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Hannah prompted.

  ‘Yes, please,’ parroted Charlotte and they all laughed.

  She’s beautiful, isn’t she, Olly?’ Henrietta’s eyes grew misty and she looked to her husband. ‘Look at her hair. It’s like corn and those eyes . . .’

  ‘Aye,’ he replied, thoughtful. ‘She’s a pretty girl, that’s for sure.’

  They sat, comfortable with each other, sipping the tea and spreading creamy butter over Henrietta’s oven-fresh damper. ‘My God, you’re spoiling us,’ Hannah gasped, swallowing with appreciation. ‘You’ll have to teach me to make this, Henrietta, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love to, Hannah. Look, call me Hen. Everyone else does. I know it sounds like a chook. Come over whenever you like.’

  ‘Well, then . . .’ Herb Dalgety rose from the table. ‘We’ll leave you ladies here to get further acquainted.’ He grinned. ‘Not that you haven’t done so already, I warrant.’ He motioned to his sons. ‘Come out, I’m going to show Daniel a couple of things.’

  The men dutifully followed their father outside. The dogs stayed quiet now, Daniel noticed. Olly kicked at the dust with a well-worn boot while Rube stood quietly, arms folded, waiting for their father to speak. It was obvious who runs this family, Daniel thought.

  ‘Good to see the women get on so well together.’ Herb tugged at the brim of his hat to better shield his eyes from the sun. ‘It gets lonely here for a woman.’

  Olly nodded in agreement. ‘It’s sure good for Hen too and for your wife . . . ah . . .’ He glanced up at Daniel.

  ‘Hannah,’ Daniel replied and the boys nodded in unison.

  ‘Right.’ Herb Dalgety placed a large callous hand on Daniel’s shoulder. ‘Now, the boys have work to do so let’s you and I go for a walk and a talk.’

  Daniel nodded at the departing sons and followed the head of the Dalgety household. ‘Herb,’ he asked. ‘What can you tell me about the natives? Is it as bad as they make it out to be?’

 

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