Outback Station

by Aaron Fletcher

  Late in the morning, David put down his ax as the dogs at one side of the flock moved about restlessly, indicating that strangers were near. Mounting his horse, he rode around the sheep to the dogs. Adolarious rode out of the thick brush nearby, accompanied by two youths of about fourteen and fifteen riding bareback on a second horse.

  The tall, middle-aged man wore his usual frock coat, high collar and cravat, and a top hat, all considerably the worse for wear. As he lifted his hat and greeted David in his rich Oxford accent, the pained expression on his face revealed his urgent desire to keep the conversation brief and to return to his privacy with his family.

  Adolarious motioned the youths off the horse and pointed to the eldest. "That is Cornelius, and his brother is Eustace, Mr. Kerrick," he said. "You will find both of them to be excellent workers."

  "There's plenty for them to do, and they'll be treated well," David replied. "If you keep your sheep headed the way they are now, you'll find the northwest paddock just south of a line of sharp hills I call Steeple Hills. There's a permanent fold in the center of the paddock."

  "Very well, Mr. Kerrick. When do you plan to shear?"

  "The shearers and drays will come here after they finish at Wayamba Station, which will be about the third week in September. The spring lambs should be weaned and grazing by then."

  "Yes, they should. I'll see you then, Mr. Kerrick."

  Adolarious lifted his hat again as he rode back into the brush, leading the spare horse. David turned to the youths who were surveying him with meekly amiable grins. Both of them were large and muscular for their age, with dusky skin and Aborigine features. They were clad in loose, heavy canvas trousers and shirts, their belongings rolled in tattered blankets slung over their backs.

  The oldest boy pointed to himself and then to his brother, speaking in a mixture of Oxford English and stockman's slang, with an Aborigine accent, "I'm Corley and he's Eulie. That's easier to say, ain't it?"

  "Yes, it is," David agreed, laughing. "Go take the hobbles off two of the horses over there, and I'll get you settled. You can use any horse except the chestnut which belongs to the mistress."

  When the youths were mounted, David told them to move the sheep a short distance. Corley and Eulie signaled the dogs, skillfully moving the flock to where David had pointed. Satisfied that either of them could be left in charge of the sheep, David took them to the garden where Alexandra was working to introduce them to her.

  She greeted them warmly and chatted with them for a few minutes, the boys bashfully stuttering replies. David then showed them around, telling them what they would be doing. When he finished, he sent Corley to watch over the sheep, and had Eulie help him stack the logs he had felled and trimmed. Using teams of horses, they dragged the logs to the opposite side of the hill from the garden.

  By that evening, David saw that Adolarious had understated his sons' abilities as workers. Skilled in the wide variety of tasks that stockmen had to do, the youths were eager to please, laboring with concentrated, unflagging energy. The next morning, they were up before David, chopping firewood and carrying water from the creek.

  A few days later, when he had a large number of logs near the fold, David planned the dimensions of the buildings and their locations. The number of sheep he would have within the next two or three years justified only a small shearing shed, and he would need no more than a modest-sized building for storing supplies during that time. But eventually he could end up with a jumble of small buildings instead of a well-organized complex of large ones if he built only for his present needs.

  When he discussed it with Alexandra, she had no doubts about what he should do. "Build to last, David," she told him. "The time will come when we'll be grazing tens of thousands of sheep, and everything on Tibooburra Station should be built to last through the years."

  With her opinion as the determining factor, David and Eulie cleared brush and other growth from the large, level expanse at the side of the hill near the fold. After he decided each building's site in the complex, David paced off a large shearing shed, barracks, and warehouse as Eulie followed him and drove stakes into the ground. They then rolled large stones into place and fitted them together into low, thick walls with smaller rocks, making impregnably solid foundations for the buildings.

  When the foundations were completed, the arduous labor of squaring logs into massive sleeper beams began. Late in the day, Corley and Eulie helped David slide the beams up inclines of stones and into place on the foundations with levers.

  After the work on the buildings was begun, David started spending part of his time on other things.

  Using the rough slabs he had split off the logs, he and Eulie made shelves for the cellar and pens for the cattle and pigs that Pat would bring. When the youths saw that containers were needed to store the vegetables neatly in the cellar, they wove grass baskets during the evenings, a skill they had learned from their mother.

  David was working on the buildings again early one afternoon when Alexandra called to him from the hut. She came down the hill to join him, pointing to the south. Stepping onto a pile of logs, David saw Pat approaching across the paddock and exchanged a wave with him.

  Pat reined up and dismounted, taking off his hat as he bowed and greeted Alexandra. He shook hands with David, then gazed in wonder at the work that had been accomplished. "David, when you set your mind to do something, you proceed quickly, don't you?" he commented with a laugh. "I didn't expect to see anywhere near this much done."

  "Eulie and Corley have been a big help, Pat. Alexandra and I discussed it, and we decided upon large buildings that will suit both present and future needs, rather than small ones that would only suffice for now."

  "Aye, I can see that, and they'll be fine buildings. It's easy to tell that you're an engineer, with knowledge of all sorts of levers and such. Some of those sleepers must weigh a ton, and I wouldn't want to try to move them without a half-dozen or more strong men helping me."

  "I used inclines and levers to raise them onto the foundations, but I didn't attempt to get any of the uprights into place. That's going to take a block and tackle, with several men hauling on it."

  "Well, I brought both," Pat said, "as well as whipsaws for cutting logs into boards and everything else we'll need. The wagons are five or six miles away and should get here an hour or two before sunset. Would you like to have the wedding tomorrow?"

  Both men turned to Alexandra as the decision was hers. "Yes, let's have it tomorrow morning," she replied. "I'll get busy and start preparing food for everyone this evening, and I'll"

  "No, no," Pat interrupted, smiling and shaking his head. "The men cook for themselves, and Mayrah cooks for my family. It would be too hard on you to cook for the whole mob, and I won't let you. We brought along the wherewithal for a good feed after the wedding, and the men will prepare it. You're to enjoy the occasion, not work like a navvy."

  "That's very kind and thoughtful of you," Alexandra told him, "but I insist that you and your family have your meals with David and me. Dinner will be ready when you arrive."

  "Aye, very well," Pat replied, liking the arrangement. "Mayrah has been looking forward to meeting you, and that'll give her plenty of time to visit with you. I'd best get back to the wagons now."

  He bowed to Alexandra again, then mounted and rode away. David resumed working around the foundations of the buildings, and Alexandra left to get an early start on the evening meal. When he finished the work he had started, Kerrick went to the washstand beside the creek to shave and get ready to receive the visitors.

  They came into view later in the afternoon, two jackaroos in front to chop down brush and saplings. Pat and three other men rode behind the youths, followed by two wagons drawn by horses. At the rear, a third jackaroo herded the cattle and pigs. As they moved toward the hill, they left behind a trampled path that wound across the rolling terrain like a ribbon. It was a visible means of contact that reached across the wilderness, Tibooburra Station no
longer isolated from the outside world.

  David and Alexandra greeted the visitors at the foot of the hill, the stockmen and jackaroos bowing awkwardly and mumbling as they were introduced to her. She and Mayrah Garrity liked each other immediately, warmly exchanging pleasantries, then Mayrah introduced her children. Colin was shyly courteous, and liking Alexandra as much as her mother did, Sheila's habitual reserve melted into a wide smile.

  The stockmen parked the wagons near the fold and put the cattle and pigs into the pens awaiting them. The Garrity family went to the hut with David and Alexandra. Alexandra put the finishing touches on the meal, as Mayrah and the children helped her, and the men sat, talking over pannikins of rum. Once again, Pat commented on how fortunate David had been to meet Alexandra.

  "It was like finding a mountain of gold," David agreed, "except that she's more precious than any amount of gold. She's happy here, but I know that she's looking forward to hearing from her family."

  "It might not be long before she does," Pat said. "The rider I sent to Sydney was mounted on a good horse. If nothing untoward occurs, he should get there within four or five weeks. I told him to wait for a reply from the Hammonds, and if all goes well, he should be back here by late autumn."

  He explained that the rider was also carrying a report about the three bushrangers to deliver to the chief justice.

  As dusk fell, they ate, and during dinner Alexandra and Mayrah discussed the dingoes. The Aborigine woman said that they were something more than simply a threat to sheep. In her broken English, she explained that dingoes had an important role in the outback.

  "What they eat," she said, "it goes away. Something not good or not wanted, it is no more if dingoes eat. They make bad things not bad."

  "Aye, they're scavengers," Pat interposed, laughing.

  "If a dead 'roo or something is lying about and smelling the place up, they'll eat it. Everyone knows that, Mayrah. For my part, though, I'd rather do away with dingoes altogether and leave dead animals to the parrots."

  Mayrah made no reply, but judging from her resigned smile at her husband, it seemed to David that Pat's interpretation of what she had said had been entirely wrong. It had been too literal, but at the same time, David was unsure himself of precisely what she had meant.

  He exchanged a glance with Alexandra, who appeared to share his feelings.

  At the end of the meal, the men lit their pipes. Near the wagons at the foot of the hill, the stockmen and jackaroos sat around a blazing fire after their meal, their voices and laughter carrying faintly up to the hut. Then as the fire burned low, the men and youths unrolled their blankets and lay down around it. Colin became sleepy and went to his bed in one of the wagons while Sheila remained beside the fire and listened as her mother and Alexandra conversed.

  Pat yawned occasionally, and David also felt weary. However, the quiet conversation between the two women at the fire showed no sign of lagging; the daughter of a well-placed English family and the one of a Stone Age people had formed a warm friendship. Finally, Pat stood up and announced that it was time for bed, and they moved off into the night, walking down the slope toward the wagons.

  At first light the next morning, the fire near the wagons blazed in the fading darkness. The stockmen dressed the extra pig Pat had brought and put it on a spit over the fire, then prepared large pans of vegetables to simmer slowly on the edge of the coals.

  Late in the morning, everyone at the wagons came up to the hut. They took their places, Pat standing in front of David and Alexandra, Mayrah and her children behind them, and the others in a line at the rear.

  Pat took off his hat, and the other men removed theirs. Then he opened his Book of Common Prayer and began reading the marriage service.

  While it was a very simple ceremony, to David it was infinitely more meaningful because there were no embellishments to obscure the significance of the event of a man and woman being united in their love. The setting was more appropriate than the most lavish wedding with the immense vault of the Australian sky instead of a cathedral ceiling, and the organ music replaced by the whisper of the late-summer breeze. Most of all, it was the fulfillment of the need for his life to be complete.

  When the ceremony ended, Alexandra and David turned to each other for the traditional kiss. Their lips had often met in passion, but that light touch of her mouth to his was more exhilarating than ever before because she was now his wife.

  The silence among the small gathering broke up into conversation and laughter as the men shook hands with David and then shuffled awkwardly into line to claim their kiss from the bride. The formalities completed, the people trooped down the hill to the wagons where the stockmen had set up a makeshift trestle table near the fire. They took the pans of vegetables off the coals and placed them on the table.

  The pig was done to a turn, and an appetizing scent wafted from it as Mayrah and Alexandra carved it. David took a plate with a rich, juicy slice of the fresh pork on it, then piled the plate high with vegetables. The food was less tasty than what Alexandra prepared, but his exuberant mood made it just as delicious as anything he had ever eaten.

  When he finished eating, Pat took a jug of rum out of one of the wagons and placed it on the table with the pannikins. As the stockmen moved quickly toward the table, he warned them not to imbibe too freely, because work on the buildings would begin soon. David and Pat poured the rum, then moved aside as they talked.

  Pat suddenly broke off in the middle of a comment and frowned suspiciously at Sheila. A few feet away, the girl was a picture of well-fed contentment, sucking her teeth and smothering belches. With one hand on her hip, she had a pannikin in the other and was sipping from it. ''Sheila!" Pat snapped. "What do you have in that pannikin?"

  "The same as you have in yours!" the girl retorted. "And it fits my hand as well as that one does yours!"

  "You get a civil tongue in your head!" Pat said angrily. "I'll not have saucy remarks from you, and put down that rum!"

  Mayrah walked up to the girl, frowning darkly, and took the pannikin. "No sauce!" she ordered. "And no rum!"

  Glowering resentfully, Sheila turned away. The stockmen and jackaroos also turned from Pat, their faces crimson as they struggled to contain their laughter. Alexandra was both disapproving and amused, which matched David's feelings as he exchanged a glance with her.

  Pat sighed heavily, drinking from his pannikin. "That girl will be the death of me," he grumbled. "The way she keeps my bile churned up, I'm certain to have a seizure one of these days. But I wouldn't trade her for every head of sheep on the face of the earth." He changed the subject, talking in a quieter voice, "David, Mayrah brought up something to me before we went to sleep last night . . ."

  "Yes?" Kerrick prompted him.

  "Well," Pat continued uneasily, "I'd never have guessed it myself, but Mayrah said that Alexandra is fairly along with child."

  "Yes, that's true. Alexandra intended to tell Mayrah about it at some point, but she didn't say anything to me about having mentioned it. And like you say, it isn't obvious, so how did Mayrah know?"

  "David, if you ever figure out how Aborigines know some things, then we'll both have learned something if you'll explain it to me. I've asked Mayrah, but I never get an answer that makes any sense to me. The reason I brought this up is because Mayrah wants to be here when Alexandra's time comes. Is that agreeable to you?"

  "Absolutely," David answered emphatically. "I'll be very grateful indeed if she is here, Pat."

  "Then I'll tell Mayrah, and she can tell Alexandra when they talk about it. Mayrah has ways of figuring out within a few days of when a baby is due, so she'll be here in plenty of time to attend to everything. She'll probably bring Sheila and some other women with her."

  "Very well, and I appreciate it very much, Pat."

  Pat dismissed the uncomfortable subject with a nod and discussed how to proceed with the work on the buildings. David felt vastly relieved. From time to time, he had thought about the dangers
of childbirth that Alexandra would face within a few months. Now that an experienced woman would be with her, those dangers would be much less perilous.

  When the visitors left, the area at the base of the hill had taken on the appearance of a home paddock. Off to one side of the fold stood the large shearing shed, barracks, and warehouse, needing only steps and other details to be completely finished. In addition, there were stacks of sawed boards and beams for future construction.

  While he was gratified by the buildings, they made David even more aware of the shabbiness of the hut. With the nights becoming cool, Corley and Eulie slept in the barracks where they had a fireplace, while Alexandra still had to cook over an open fire. Construction of a house was still in the future, because they had discussed it and decided upon a large, stone house which would require materials from Sydney.

  When he suggested that she move into one of the buildings for the present, she declined. "I prefer it here on the hill," she explained. "It has a view that touches my heart each time I look out over the countryside, and a fresh, pleasant atmosphere. The hut has its drawbacks, of course, but I'd rather remain here, David."

  "Perhaps I'd better build a small house for now."

  "Build to last, David," she reminded him. "We intend to have a stone mansion, not merely a house. The hut will suffice for now."

  He pursued the subject no further, but it remained a source of dissatisfaction to him. Every time he saw Alexandra shivering beside the fire in the crisp early-morning air, it galled him. On each occasion when he rode back toward the hill, the contrast between the hut and the large buildings near the fold was painfully evident.

  Another problem of less importance to him was the condition of the paddock, which was becoming grazed down. Although there were thousands of acres of grasslands in the vicinity, the exceptionally large flock had been pastured there for weeks at the end of the dry season when no new grass would sprout. However, the jackaroos were too inexperienced to take the flock to another paddock, risking encounters with dingoes while en route, and David was reluctant to leave Alexandra until the baby was born.