In addition, in subtle ways that never required a response or exerted any kind of pressure on her, he had expressed increasingly deep feelings for her. But that involved the future, and her calamity was too recent for her to think of what might lie ahead, or to do anything other than endure her sorrow and moments of seething, helpless fury. David was a pleasant, interesting companion with characteristics that she liked and admired, and she refused to search her feelings further than that.
As she followed the flock out of the mallee, the billabong was on the other side of an open, grassy field where the horses were hobbled and grazing. Among the scattered trees on a low rise overlooking the water, David had stacked the packs under a tree and was gathering firewood. The sheep smelled the water, and their woolly backs bobbed as they trotted toward it.
The sheep and dogs waded into the water as Alexandra's horse pushed among them. After setting up camp, David came through the trees as the sheep drank their fill and began moving back into the field to graze. He watched over the sheep and put up the temporary fold at the foot of the hill as Alexandra unsaddled and hobbled her horse, then put it with the others to graze.
She went to the camp and grabbed the water buckets, then carried them to the spring. It was a small pool of deliciously cold water in a natural stone basin, shaded by trees and granite boulders. While filling the buckets and drinking, she noticed carvings on the boulders that appeared to be highly stylized representations of people, birds, and other animals. The lines in the granite were blurred from age, evidently made by Aborigines centuries before.
Alexandra carried the water to the camp, then kindled a fire and began preparing dinner. When the sun started to set, David drove the sheep into the temporary fold. A few minutes later, he came up to the camp with the dogs. Alexandra mentioned the carvings at the spring, and he told her about others he had seen.
Then he broke off and fell silent as a dingo howled in the distance, a hauntingly dismal sound. Another dingo somewhere in the mallee replied. Just as its call was fading away, a third one near it wailed mournfully.
The dogs bristled and bared their teeth, and Kerrick frowned as he listened to the howls. "Those dingoes sound fairly close," he mused. "Once they've learned what firearms will do, they're usually more cautious about getting this near a flock unless they're very hungry."
"Have you ever shot any dingoes here?" Alexandra asked.
"Yes, but that was sometime ago," he said, listening to yet another howl from a different direction. "These could have recently moved into this area, and it sounds like a fairly large pack. We could have trouble with them, so I'll sleep beside the fold tonight."
Dropping the subject, he talked again about Aborigine carvings. Dingoes continued howling occasionally as Alexandra finished cooking, and the dogs looked out into the darkness, growling. She fed the dogs, then served David and herself.
As they ate, Alexandra brought up a comment he had made the previous evening. Their conversation had touched on the bushrangers, and David had implied that he had known them in the past. Remembering the conversation between Hinton and Crowley about a foreman in Parramatta, she asked if he had been the one the bushrangers had mentioned.
David nodded, telling her that he had been in charge of a building project where the two men had been laborers. "They caused trouble far more than they worked," he added, "so they weren't missed when they fled."
"Did they flee because they were about to be sent to confinement at Norfolk Island, or something of that nature?"
"No, that would have probably happened eventually, but it wasn't an immediate prospect. I was forcing Hinton to marry a woman named Auberta Mowbray, but I believe that only set the time when he and Crowley left. I think they had been planning all along to leave."
"Yes, Hinton mentioned a woman. She was with child by him, wasn't she?"
His expression reflecting regret that he had mentioned that aspect of the situation, David nodded.
Burning hatred for the dead man swelled within Alexandra, joined by her helpless rage at her fate. Struggling to control her feelings and to think of other things, she wondered what had happened to the woman. She asked David, and he replied that a clergyman had secured her a position as a maid in an affluent Sydney household. He pondered for a moment, then remembered the people's name. "It was a family named Underwood."
Alexandra nodded, recalling a discussion with the Underwoods about the same maid who had married a shipwright named Hiram Baxter. As they finished eating, the dingoes still howled intermittently in the distance and David picked up his blanket and two muskets, then went down to the fold with the dogs.
After cleaning up, Alexandra went into the hut and listening to the wails of the dingoes and other sounds of the night, she fell asleep. Hours later, she was awakened when the dogs began snarling furiously at the foot of the hill. It changed into the scuffling and yelping of a savage fight, and the sheep were bleating in terror. A musket shot rang out, then another as Alexandra leaped up and ran out of the hut.
Looking down at the fold, she could see nothing in the darkness but shadowy movements. The pandemonium grew louder, a pitched battle raging between the dogs and dingoes, and David fired again. The gunshot was almost lost in the uproar from the sheep, then she heard a more ominous sound. In a sudden, drumming thunder of pounding hoofs, the sheep charged out of the temporary fold and bolted.
Thick dust billowed up to the camp as the sheep raced away to the east, their hoofbeats gradually fading. The struggle between the dogs and dingoes continued, and David shouted in rage as he beat at the wild dogs with his musket. Alexandra ran down the hill and past the horses tethered at the edge of the trees. The fight ended as the dingoes scattered into the darkness. David called the dogs to him and examined them.
"Are you or any of the dogs injured, David?" Alexandra called.
He spoke to the dogs, checking them, then answered, "No, I'm all right. The dogs have a few bites, but they gave far more than they got."
Alexandra followed the sound of his voice, then found him, he and the dogs barely visible forms through the swirling dust and darkness. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No," he replied despondently. "It could be that there's nothing at all anyone can do now, Alexandra. I'll saddle a horse and follow the sheep, and see if I can find them when daylight comes."
"Perhaps they won't have gone far," she suggested hopefully.
"Perhaps, but that isn't likely. The way they bolted, they'll undoubtedly run for miles. I'll be back when I've had a look around."
He went toward the horses with the dogs. Alexandra returned to the camp, where she stoked the fire and filled a billy with water, hearing the hoofbeats as David rode away. She drank her tea as she waited for daybreak.
At dawn, she went down the slope, looking at the scene of desolution. Seven dead dingoes and a sheep that had its throat torn out lay on the ground. The poles and rope from the temporary fold were scattered, and the wide path the flock had made in the foliage was dotted with dead sheep that had been trampled by the others.
After gathering the rope and poles, Alexandra led the horses to the camp. She saddled hers and loaded the packs onto the others, getting everything in readiness to leave in case David wanted to immediately set out after the flock when he returned.
An hour later, she glimpsed David in the distance, driving sheep toward the camp. When she saw him clearly, her heart sank. The sheep numbered no more than fifty. She placed the billy of water on the hot coals, then made tea for David.
He entered the camp, his strong, handsome face set in somber lines. Drinking the tea, he talked in a quiet, grimly resigned voice, relating what he had found. The sheep had remained largely in a flock while fleeing eastward for several miles. Then, at a rocky bluff that rose abruptly from the surrounding terrain, the flock had divided. Part had gone north and the rest to the southeast, all of them still running.
"Because of that," he summed up, "I'll lose almost half of my flock
. When they get over their fright and stop running, they'll begin clustering, because they don't like to be alone. But they'll be scattered out over two widely-separated places."
"You can't gather one part of them, then the other?"
"No, it'll take several days to collect one part of them. By then, the others will have scattered too far to find."
"Or they'll be dead of thirst," Alexandra mused.
"Yes, those that don't happen upon water will, because they can't spot it from a distance, like someone on horseback. Well, I should have hired a stockman this year, but what's done is done."
"Did the sheep split up fairly evenly at that bluff?"
"No, judging from the path they made, more than half of them went to the north," David said. He drank the last of the tea, then visibly dismissed his remorse as he stood up. "Those are the ones I'll go after. If I can find most of them, and if I have a fairly good lambing next spring, I'll have another large flock within a year or two."
"That's a year or two lost," Alexandra pointed out.
"It is, but as Pat said, those who don't want to take risks shouldn't try to be graziers. Will you be all right if I leave you with those sheep down there and the spare horses? The dingoes won't be back, and I'll return within a few days."
Alexandra stood up, shaking her head. "No, I don't want to stay here. I'll go after those sheep that went to the southeast, David."
"That's out of the question, Alexandra," he replied firmly. "You know full well that you can't go wandering about out here by yourself."
"I won't be wandering about, I'll be gathering sheep. And I won't be by myself, because I'll have some of the dogs with me."
David brushed her comments aside, repeating that she would be alone. He reminded her of his experience, when he had become lost on his trek to Wayamba Station and had almost perished. She pointed out that he had been on foot and without ample supplies of food and water at the time, while she would be mounted and would have everything she needed.
As they debated, David insisted that she might become lost. "No, I will not," she shot back. "You said that the home paddock is due north of here, on Tibooburra Creek, and the sheep are to the southeast. I'll simply gather as many sheep as I can find, drive them north to the creek, and then go upstream until I reach the home paddock."
Silenced by her full, logical grasp of directions and the essential features of the region, David hesitated for a moment, then tried to dissuade her again. "Alexandra, those sheep aren't worth the risk."
"It's a minor risk, and they're worth it to me," she told him, turning to the horses. "Shall I take half of the pack horses?"
"No, more than one would be a burden to you, and it would be better for me to keep the rest. But this is extremely ill-advised, Alexandra."
The discussion ended as far as she was concerned, Alexandra took the packs off the horses. David sighed, reluctantly helping her. Looking through the packs, they took out the equipment she would need, along with cooking utensils and foodstuffs to last her for several days. Alexandra chose a musket and a pistol, and David divided the fresh mutton, wrapping it in canvas, then they bundled the equipment and loaded it onto a pack horse.
With the pistol under her belt, Alexandra mounted, balancing the musket across the horn of her saddle. David handed her the halter rope on her pack horse, then walked ahead as she rode down the slope. Summoning the dogs, he picked out half of them to go with her.
When she was ready to leave, David tried once more to discourage her from going. "Perhaps you and I could go and gather the sheep that went to the north," he suggested. "With us working together, it shouldn't take long, then we could see about the others."
"No, you know that it would take both of us almost as long as it'll take you by yourself, David. This is the logical solution."
"It's also a dangerous one. Be very careful, Alexandra."
"And you. I'll see you at the home paddock in a few days."
He nodded and tried to smile as he touched his hat. Alexandra turned her gelding away, and the pack horse followed. The dogs hesitated, looking at David until he motioned them after Alexandra. They raced to catch up, then trotted beside her horse as she rode away to the east.
A few hours later, after passing the rocky bluff, she found a dozen sheep huddled in a ditch, off to one side of the trampled path that the main group of sheep had made. After driving them out of the ditch, Alexandra tethered her pack horse and searched the ditches and thickets on each side.
The intelligent, experienced dogs perceived what she was doing and began searching. Sheep bleated on all sides as the dogs found them in pairs, threes, and fours. Alexandra found more, driving them toward the others, and the cluster grew. When she began driving them ahead of her, leading her pack horse again, there were over fifty of the animals.
The number also grew as she drove the sheep slowly, looking for water. The sheep bleated with thirst, a sound that was audible for hundreds of yards in all directions. Other small groups and isolated sheep were drawn to it by their instinct to flock together, and the dogs continued to find a few. Near sunset, as Alexandra drove them toward bright green foliage that indicated water, she had almost seventy-five sheep.
In the midst of the green foliage was a mudhole covered by an inch or two of tepid, stagnant water. It satisfied the animals, but Alexandra drank a sparing amount from her water bottle. After stringing a rope between saplings for a temporary fold and putting the sheep into it, she cooked a quick meal for herself and the dogs, then fell asleep beside the fire.
Rising before dawn, she was ready to leave when it was light enough to see. She moved along the trampled path through the brush, and the flock grew rapidly. Only a few isolated sheep wandered about, the animals having found each other and gathered in clusters of a dozen or more. Alexandra searched on each side, while the dogs went far out on the flanks, racing about and driving in groups of sheep.
At sunset, when she stopped at a small pond for the night, there were over four hundred sheep in the flock. After the sheep, dogs, and horses drank, the pond was liquid, scummy mud, with no indication that the water would clear for hours. Alexandra had to drink the small amount remaining in her bottle, but she also had to use a full coil of rope to make a temporary fold for the larger number of sheep.
As she kindled a fire and prepared to cook, she saw that she would have to butcher a wether the next day. The mutton was very strong, and also mostly bone and gristle. She made damper and cooked some peas and rice for herself, and roasted the mutton for the dogs. They were still hungry after gulping it down, sniffing about for more and growling at each other over the stringy tendons and bones.
From the first few minutes after she set out the next morning, the flock grew by leaps and bounds. The path the sheep had made became diffuse and disappeared, but Alexandra knew she was following the main group because of the number of wethers and ewes she found. They had gathered in even larger clusters, groups of a dozen up to a score joining the flock.
Coming through the brush and out of ditches on each side, the sheep were crazed with thirst, bleating piteously. Some were weak and unable to bleat, their tongues swollen in their open mouths as they staggered through the brush to join the flock. With some of the sheep in reasonably good condition and others barely able to stay on their feet, the flock became increasingly difficult to control and moved at a very slow pace.
By midafternoon, the flock was too large for Alexandra to count the number of sheep accurately, but she was certain there were more than seven hundred.
They were almost impossible to control but the dogs worked furiously to turn back the sheep that tried to wander away, while they moved at an increasingly slower pace. Crossing a low rise, Alexandra saw a patch of deep green and turned the flock toward it.
When the sheep smelled the water, Alexandra had to ride around in front of the flock to slow them and prevent weaker ones from being trampled. The animals spread apart, hurrying frantically toward the water. It w
as a spring-fed stream that sank into the parched soil a short distance from its source, with room for only a few score of sheep. Alexandra rode among them, driving the first ones out of the water so others could drink.
The dogs lapped up quick sips as they charged into the sheep, helping her move them and keeping a crush from developing. Part of the flock began moving away and cropping the lush grass around the water, and the congestion of animals gradually diminished and the weaker ones found room to drink. When the last sheep moved away, Alexandra drank at the head of the stream.
After hobbling her horses, she made camp. Then she realized that she was procrastinating over the extremely disagreeable task of butchering a sheep. Steeling herself against her squeamishness, she prepared for the task.
At a distance from the stream, she found a tree with a convenient limb for hanging the carcass to skin and clean it. She dug a hole to bury the offal, then gathered rope, knives, and canvas. The heaviest implement she had was a hatchet, and she placed it under the tree with the other things.
The dogs watched the preparations, evidently surmising that a feast of fresh, roasted mutton would shortly be forthcoming, and followed her as she walked among the sheep. Looking them over, she reflected that it would be shameful to kill one that had been tortured by thirst. At the same time, she was reluctant to select an identifiable wether among the first ones she had found, having grown to know them in a way.
The lack of distinguishing marks also seemed an unfair criterion for being doomed, but Alexandra chose one that was like many others, unsure of when it had joined the flock. She drove it away from the rest of the sheep, and the dogs eagerly helped her. At the tree, they gathered around to watch, panting happily in the afternoon heat and wagging their tails.
Outback Station Page 24
