Hannah

by Raymond Clarke

  ‘I see you’ve been talking to Toby?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Toby gets the latest news from the military so he knows what he is talking about.’

  ‘Is it really as bad as he says?’

  ‘Let me tell you, young Daniel, that it is bad. It’s the worst it’s been for quite a while. They’re roaming around the Cattai burning huts and spearing cattle and the Everinghams have reported they’ve seen a large mob forming at the back of the Red House but they dispersed quickly when the boys rode out. Now, that seems to me . . .’ He eyed Daniel closely, emphasizing the words. ‘That they could well be moving on south of Windsor and that means South Creek and us.’

  ‘What about the soldiers?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Almost ruddy useless they are.’ Herb spat into the dust. ‘They talk about dispersing the blacks. That’s what the law says they’re supposed to do. Well, all they do is . . .’ He chuckled. ‘to follow a mob for miles and miles and what do you think the clever blacks do? They do an about turn — when they’re ready of course — and sneak along following the track of the soldiers. Then, they throw a barrage of spears and go like a bat out of hell. Look, the soldiers are too regimented, with their fancy coats and fixed moves. It’s a hopeless situation unless the blacks are in the open, which they rarely are and try to avoid.’

  ‘So what do we do, if we can’t rely on the military?’ Daniel pursed his lips. ‘I’m worried about Hannah and the little one.’

  ‘And so you should.’ Herb shook his head. ‘Make no mistake, Daniel Clarke, they’re raw savages, don’t forget. You can’t reason with them. They’ll burn your hut and crops and spear your cattle and kill any white settlers that they think are weak and on their own or won’t fight back.’

  ‘Well, we will be fighting back,’ Daniel declared, hotly. ‘I’m not leaving my farm.’

  Herb Dalgety nodded. ‘I’m glad you came over. The boys and I were going to visit you. You saved us a trip. Look, here’s what I suggest we do. Firstly, have you got a musket? Yes? Two is twice as good, one for Hannah, eh?’ Herb gave a throaty tobacco-edged laugh and Daniel smiled in return. ‘Now, if you are attacked, once we hear you fire two rounds in succession — not too far apart, you understand — two rounds one after the other, the boys will come straight over.’

  ‘But then, Herb, you would be alone there with your daughter-in-law Hen and without your sons—’

  ‘Don’t you worry about me, my friend, I’ve got the dogs to let loose and those hounds will scare the daylights out of anyone. Besides, I’ve got plenty of firepower and a daughter-in-law who can shoot almost as good as I can and I rarely miss, I can tell you.’

  Daniel nodded, relieved. ‘I don’t know how to thank you, Herb.’

  Herb Dalgety laughed. ‘You can help me by staying alive. We need good neighbors. Come on.’ The older man steered Daniel towards the open door of his house. ‘Let’s go and join the ladies. You know...’ His eyes grew thoughtful. ‘It’s been a long time since I said that, a very long, long time.’

  Chapter 12

  SOUTH CREEK, WINDSOR

  1814-1815

  Hannah’s eyes glistened with contentment as she went about her work. The weeks had gone by and there was no sign of the natives and she had a friend now, another woman to talk the things that only woman knew about. ‘Women’s business,’ Daniel scoffed but he had never seen her so happy. Seeing another woman had made all the difference, he thought. He hadn’t realized until now how lonely she must have been, yearning for a woman’s touch, for a kindred voice. Also, she must feel safer after the Dalgety visit.

  A few days later, the soldiers came. The pup growled and Hannah, hanging out the washing, looked back to the road. Peg in mouth, she watched them trot off the road and onto the track that they had recently scythed. ‘Daniel,’ she shouted, cupping hands around her mouth. ‘The soldiers are coming.’

  Daniel, slashing the grass near the creek, paused, reaping hook in hand. He stood erect, eyeing the advance of the six horsemen. They were a colorful lot with their scarlet coats, white cross-bands, black leggings and plumed caps, but Herb Dalgety’s derisive comments about their efficiency came into his mind. He followed their progress along the track and onto the clearing around their hut, raising spirals of dust in the still early morning air, before halting in a group. He could see an officer — sabre at his side — talking to Hannah but he couldn’t discern the words. He tossed the reaping hook aside and walked back, the dog following at his heels. He heard the officer and his men laughing, but Hannah’s face was unsmiling. He caught the last of the officer’s sentence ‘. . . as cheeky as you’ve always been.’

  The officer sat on his horse and stared at the approaching Daniel. ‘Good day to you, sir,’ he said, touching his plume. At Daniel’s nod, he leaned forward over the horse’s neck. ‘I’m Lieutenant Johnathan Mercer.’ He eyed Daniel cautiously. ‘We’re chasing the savages but they’re elusive. You haven’t seen them around here so I’ve been told.’ His gaze moved to Hannah then back to Daniel. ‘I was just saying to this woman that I’ve seen her before—’

  ‘She’s my wife and that wasn’t what I heard.’

  ‘What? What did you say?’

  Daniel’s face hardened. ‘You said something to my wife about her being cheeky.’ He took a step forward towards the horse. ‘I want to know what you meant by it.’

  ‘Daniel, it’s all right.’ Hannah laid a restraining hand on his harm. ‘Forget it.’

  He shook her arm off, eyes only on Mercer. ‘Well, I’m waiting.’

  ‘You forget yourself, man,’ the Lieutenant snorted. ‘And I won’t have your cheek.’ He tugged hard on the reins until he was side on to Daniel, the horse’s belly nudging him backwards. ‘Let me tell you something, farmer, I’m the King’s representative in Windsor so don’t you forget it. As for your wife, it was only a joke between old acquaintances.’ He glanced at the amused troop behind him before turning and directing a patronizing smile at Daniel. ‘In case you don’t know, Hannah and I shared a pleasant boat trip or two, to and from the Female Factory at Parramatta.’

  ‘Get off my property,’ Daniel ordered. ‘Leave now.’

  ‘Or what will happen, farmer?’ Mercer patted the handle of his sabre. ‘Would you attack an officer on His Majesty’s service? That would quickly get you to Norfolk Island, I be thinking.’ Behind him, the troop sniggered in appreciation of their clever lieutenant’s wit. Mercer swung his horse around until it pointed back down the track and turned to deliver a final message. ‘You don’t want to make an enemy of me, farmer Clarke. It’s not wise. Remember that the next time the savages are burning your hut to the ground and spearing and God knows what unspeakable thing to your wife and child. Then you’ll be crying out for our help. Won’t you?’ He dug the spurs viciously into the horse, turned the horse’s head savagely and galloped away in a cloud of dust. The troop followed in pairs, two or three turning their heads to view the angry farmer and his convict wife.

  ‘Bastard,’ Daniel muttered. He watched until they were out of sight before turning to Hannah. ‘You never told me about him, did you?’ Daniel searched her face.

  She clutched at his arm but he pulled away. ‘No I didn’t,’ she said. ‘Look, Daniel, there were so many bad memories and so many unpleasant characters. He was just another one of them. It never entered my mind. He was a pig—’

  ‘There was nothing ever between you?’

  Her eyes flashed with indignation. ‘Are you crazy? With that bastard?’ She put a hand on his arm and pulled him to her. ‘Come on, sit down here on the log and I’ll tell you about it so we can bury this matter once and for all. ‘

  ‘Yes,’ he said softly, taking her hand and stroking it. ‘I think we should do that.’

  Side by side, they sat staring into the glowing fire embers and Hannah began her story. She told of the boat trip and her first confrontation with Mercer, his cruelty and arrogance but smiled remembering how she’d first met Sarah on the s
ame Rose Hill packet, as they called it. She hung her head, tears threatening, and he put an arm around her shoulders. She told him of the boredom and hopelessness of the Female Factory, of the dreaded black cell, the meager rations and the birth of Charlotte. ‘If it wasn’t for Sarah,’ she sniffed, ‘I don’t think we would have survived.’ She told him of the kindness and sponsorship of Reverend Melville and her ultimate return to Sydney Town on the packet where she’d again encountered Mercer, this time as a ticket-of-leave convict and he was more careful with his insults. ‘And I’ve never seen him since,’ she declared, wiping her cheeks with her apron. ‘Until now, Daniel Clarke, so there, that’s the whole story.’

  Daniel nodded. He turned his head and kissed her wet cheek, then absently patted the pup’s head. ‘I guess I’ve made an enemy of him but honestly, Hannah . . .’ He laughed. ‘I don’t care a damn.’

  ‘Nor me,’ she said, ‘but Daniel, let’s hope we don’t need the soldiers if the blacks do come here.’ She shivered. ‘Remember what he said?’

  ‘Yes, I remember but don’t forget we’ve got the Dalgetys. I’d rather have Herb and his boys and his daughter-in-law nearby than that troop of fops.’

  ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’ Hannah rose and rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Daniel, I’m so proud of you standing up to him even if we’ve made an enemy—’

  ‘You’re my wife,’ he said, and playfully tugged at a lock of her hair. ‘And no man will ever hurt you while I’m alive. That’s just the way it is and ever will be.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She turned, hiding her emotion, and walked away to resume hanging out the washing.

  The following morning, Hannah carried their water pails to the creek. The dog followed her as he did on these twice daily trips, shadowing her footsteps with his chubby, sturdy legs. She filled the pails and sat on the bank to rest. It was peaceful here in the enveloping foliage of the weeping willows though the weather remained cool. Soon it would be spring and everything in their land would bloom, heralding a new season of growth. It was something to look forward to. She would tell Daniel tonight that she was pregnant. The signs were unmistakable, no woman’s curse — as her mother called It — these last two months and a queasiness in the tummy. What would Daniel’s reaction be? She knew he wanted a son but what if it was another girl, a sister for Charlotte? Did it really matter? She dearly wanted children, a family that would live long after they were dust, a little bit of Daniel and Hannah forever surviving in this strange new land. That’s all she really wanted and she hoped he did too. She threw a twig into the clear, flowing water and watched it float away downstream. It reminded her of the Canada and its relentless passage across the great Southern Ocean. She couldn’t believe that it was over four years since they’d landed, the trio of young, naïve and desperate women from the other side of the world. Dear sweet Rosie, now so happy with a rich, settler husband and Hannah P, wherever she was.

  She paused to listen. Was that a sound? She cupped her ear. Nothing could be heard yet she rose, by instinct, shoving aside the willow’s branches and stumbled up the bank to where she could view the hut. She shielded her eyes to look west into the afternoon sun, searching for the white dress of her daughter, for Charlotte playing as she was when she left her. Vision blurred then cleared. There were figures in front of the hut. She ran then, one hand holding up her skirt, scurrying over the rough, dead timber-strewn ground. She took the quickest route, swishing through waist-high grass, finally reaching the clearance, gasping for air, aware of but ignoring pounding in her chest and a knife-like pain in her side that tore at every muscle. Her eyes dwelt only on a little white dress now in view and, somehow, she gathered hidden energy, hurling her body forward to confront the Aborigines who surrounded her daughter.

  There were four of them she saw as she came up to them, two older women, a younger one — thirteen or fourteen perhaps — and a completely naked boy, a long stick held in one skinny hand. Within the half circle that they’d formed around her daughter, Charlotte stood, rag doll clutched tightly to her chest and eyes wide open with bewilderment, as the long, slender fingers of one of the gins ̶ as Toby called the Aboriginal women ̶ fingered her golden locks. They shouted to each other, oblivious of Hannah’s approach until the boy pointed a hand.

  ‘No,’ Hannah shouted.’ She grasped Charlotte, jerking her away from the probing hands. ‘What do you want?’ She stared with fear from one coal black face to another.

  They grew silent, shuffling feet uncertainly at her outburst, black eyes narrowing, and glances darting between each other. Shouting began again and one old woman pointed to her and then Charlotte. She reached her hand forward to touch Charlotte’s hair and Hannah struck it away. ‘No,’ she shouted again. ‘Don’t touch her.’

  The young girl screamed some words at her and the boy raised his stick from the ground.

  Hannah shoved Charlotte towards the open door of the hut. ‘Go inside now, run.’ She watched in relief as the child obeyed.

  She turned to face the blacks, eyes swinging warily towards the boy. He is the dangerous one, she thought, him with his white paint and unhealed ugly scars on his skinny chest. She turned back to the women and tried a friendly approach. ‘Please. You go now. Thank you for calling.’ She smiled, pointing down the track then waved a hand all around. ‘This is my land now.’

  They ignored her, not moving for some time until one old gin reached down, and picked up a handful of dirt. She threw it in the air while the other old one began to chant. The boy joined in with louder eerie howls and waved a free hand around in a wide circle. It’s their land. They are telling me it’s their land, Hannah thought. She looked around praying for Daniel but he was clearing down at the south boundary. Unless he took a break to look back to the hut, she wouldn’t see him till tea time. The young girl, budding firm breasts a startling comparison to the elongated, saggy ones of the old women, made a motion by cupping her hands and bringing them up to her mouth and the old gins copied her action.

  Now they want something to eat, she knew. ‘No, I’m sorry, no spare food.’ She shook her head, remembering what Toby had told them. Never feed them. ‘No food here.’ She pointed again to the track. ‘You go now.’ She turned to check the hut and sighted Charlotte peeping around the door. ‘Go inside, Charlie,’ she ordered and the face vanished from view. She turned to see the old women shaking their heads and resuming chanting. Hannah wondered if she should get one of the muskets in the hut but would she have time? Oh, God, help me. Would they never leave?

  She heard the boy shout something and point behind her and she turned to see Daniel striding towards them, cudgel in his hand. Oh, thank you, God.

  ‘Troubles, Hannah?’ He asked, moving straight into the group. He stood in front of his wife, eyes sweeping them all. Ignoring the women, his eyes rested on the boy. ‘What’s up, Hannah?’ He asked again.

  ‘They want food and they won’t leave,’ she said.

  Daniel moved closer to the boy, gazing into the unfathomable black eyes. ‘No food here. No food.’ He motioned with a hand to his mouth and shook his head. ‘You understand? No food.’ He pointed with the cudgel down the track. ‘Now you go. Go.’

  The boy’s face flooded with hostility. He gripped his stick until the knuckles formed raised lumps, raised it and screamed threats at Daniel, before swinging about and motioning to the women. They followed him, but not before repeating the display of stooping to the earth and throwing dirt into the air. The message again was obvious. They went quickly on the track, kicking up spirals of dust with the swiftness of their feet. They did not look back and soon merged with the thick bush on their western boundary.

  Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. ‘They’re gone, Daniel,’ she said, holding back the tears. ‘My poor Charlie—’

  ‘They didn’t hurt her, did they?’

  ‘No, only fascinated by her fair hair. I guess they’d never seen it before and then they wanted food.’

  He nodded. ‘I think they’l
l be back,’ he said and her heart jumped. ‘I should tell the Dalgetys about this even if he already knows about it. This is a scouting visit to sound us out. I’ll ride the horse there and be back in a short while.’ He eyed her keenly. ‘I want you to stay in the hut until I get back.’

  ‘Yes, but don’t be long. It’s best you go now but hurry.’

  ‘I will. Now, you go inside the house and lock the door. Both muskets are primed. If you see the black men fire both immediately and I’ll be right back, with the Dalgety boys. Blue’s outside tied up.’ He kissed her on the lips, ruffled Charlotte’s hair, took another look at the western bush and went to get the horse.

  Hannah heard the clip clop receding into the distance as she closed the shutters on the back windows, leaving only the two facing south and west open. She fed Charlotte some soup and bread and prepared her for bed. ‘You sleep now, Charlotte,’ she ordered the child and laid the rag doll on her chest. When her daughter’s eyes closed, Hannah moved to the easy chair, repositioned it at the south window and placed their musket on the nearby table. With Toby’s Brown Bess across her lap, she sat, looking out at deepening shadows and waited for Daniel’s return.

  It was near dark when he returned. The dog’s growl warned her long before she heard the horse’s hooves. ‘Rube is going into the town first thing tomorrow morning to warn the military,’ Daniel said, striding into the house. He flung his hat on the peg and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘Herb thinks that’s just a start. They will be coming down here, he said.’

  ‘That’s great, I don’t think. Daniel, your daughter is sleeping. Let’s not wake her up.’

  ‘No.’ He sat at the table, running fingers through his straggly shoulder-length hair. ‘God, I’m hungry. Any more of that stew left?’

  He looks worried, she thought. ‘Yes, do you think they will come tonight?’ she asked.

  ‘Hell, I don’t know, Hannah,’ Daniel snapped. ‘Who knows what these damn savages will do.’ He saw the hurt in her face. ‘I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean . . .’