The Call of the High Country

by Tony Parsons

  ‘She will be coming home for her holidays, though, won’t she?’ David asked.

  ‘Oh, yes, we shall have her home for most holidays,’ Jane said.

  ‘Go easy on the chocolate cake,’ Anne whispered in David’s ear as he went to pile his plate. David had once eaten half a chocolate cake and been mightily sick, and his mother would never let him forget it. He sampled a fair proportion of what was on the table and washed it down with several glasses of fruit drink. Catriona did not eat very much but stayed close to him.

  ‘Do you want to go away to school?’ he whispered in her ear when her mother left them to get a pot of tea.

  ‘I have to,’ Catriona whispered back. ‘It’s something that can’t be avoided. Why, will you miss me?’

  David had not meant the question in that light. ‘Aw, I just think it’s rotten of your people to send you away for six years. I wouldn’t go. No way. And Mum wouldn’t send me.’

  Catriona struggled to find words to answer him. It was very difficult to explain that a boarding-school education was an essential part of life for a Campbell.

  ‘Who will look after your horses?’ he asked.

  ‘We have a stud groom, and he will exercise them. I shall be home to ride them at the camps because they are usually held in school holidays.’

  ‘Gosh, Cat – weeks and weeks, maybe months, without a horse to ride. What will you do with yourself on weekends?’ he asked.

  ‘There will be plenty to do. There are concerts and other outings, church and social gatherings. Then there is homework and we also learn dancing.’

  David groaned. ‘Jeez, Cat, I feel sorry for you. I really do.’

  ‘Don’t feel sorry for me, David. Mummy says I will come home a very polished young woman.’

  ‘You’re polished enough now,’ he said gruffly.

  Catriona looked pleased. ‘Thank you. That was a sweet thing to say.’

  David let the topic rest. As his father often said, what the Campbells did was their own business.

  Just when Anne had decided that David had eaten enough afternoon tea for two boys his age, Jane produced a large cardboard box which she began packing cakes and other goodies into. ‘You must take these back with you, Anne. I know what kind of appetite David has, and it may save you some cooking for a few days.’

  David, urged on by his mother’s whispered entreaty, thanked Mrs Campbell for the box of goodies and for the afternoon tea. He even went so far as to say it had been ‘fantastic’.

  That night Anne sat down and wrote to her sister. She knew that Katie would want to know all the details of David’s latest exploit.

  Kate Gilmour’s eyes misted as she read her sister’s letter several days later. She was realising how much she loved and missed the MacLeod family at High Peaks. She had already determined that she would not go ahead with her planned motoring holiday; other forces were pulling at her. She had come back from High Peaks with the knowledge that she had a fierce love for her sister’s son. He had really wound his way into her affections during her last stay. The realisation that it was unlikely she would ever marry had altered her outlook on life. The fact was that there wasn’t a man in sight who meant anything to her. Her parents were in good health for their age and did not actually need her. How lovely it would be to up sticks and move to High Peaks permanently. But she would have to find a job at the hospital.

  The more Kate thought about the idea, the more it made sense to her. She had excellent references and was a triple-certificate nurse. Even if she had to live in Merriwa, she felt it would be preferable to living and working in the Sydney rat-race. She decided to talk to Anne about the possibility of moving to Merriwa. She could then be with the family almost every weekend. She could buy her own horse and ride it all over High Peaks. Andy would let her have a good horse, a horse that was tried and tested in the hills. He could take her with him when he and David competed in campdrafts. Maybe she could even compete herself.

  Kate realised time was passing her by. David was at such an interesting age right now, and Christmas was nearly upon them again. Next year David would be going to high school, and she wondered how he would face up to that. He would be like a square peg in a round hole. Yet she was sure she could help him through. It was not that Anne wasn’t the best mother a boy could have, but she so wanted to be there to lend an extra hand and help David out when he ventured into the hills.

  Kate’s head raced with excitement about how her new life might be. All she had to do was talk to Anne and make enquiries at Merriwa Hospital. It wouldn’t take much for her dream to be made true.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Don’t push the machine too hard, David. Speed doesn’t matter yet. Concentrate on filling the comb and making your strokes clean.’

  It was the week following Christmas and Andy was giving David another shearing lesson. There were three lambs in the pen – wriggly devils, but nowhere near as big and hard to hold as a wether for a learner shearer. Kate Gilmour was sitting on a butt of crutchings and watching her nephew with great interest. She had come up from Sydney for Christmas and was staying on another week.

  The MacLeods bred merino lambs on their lower country where the cattle grazed. Sheep that were bred in the area thrived better than sheep brought in from other districts. There was a lot more work involved in running merino ewes, but the wether portion of their drop replaced the older wethers and any excess or cull ewes could be sold for cash. The pick of the ewe portion was retained for breeding.

  David finished the lamb and straightened up. He watched the lamb run into the counting-out pen and reckoned he had made a fair job of shearing it.

  ‘How’s the back, Davie?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Not bad,’ he said.

  Kate knew he would never say otherwise, never admit weakness. He and his father were a good pair. They could be dead on their feet but still ‘okay’ by them.

  ‘Have a few minutes’ spell before you do another one,’ Andrew advised.

  ‘All right,’ David agreed. He put some oil in the handpiece and then leant up against a post and inspected the other two lambs. He was just about to go into the catching pen for another lamb when they heard a vehicle pull up outside the shed.

  Kate got off the butt and went to the door of the wool room to check out who the visitor was. They didn’t get a lot of visitors at the end of the road. The wool rep called a couple of times a year but most of their visitors were dog and horse enthusiasts.

  ‘There is a very large man with a grey pointed beard getting out of a red utility,’ Kate informed them.

  There was only one man in the district who answered that description. Andy and David knew at once that it had to be Wilfred White, their next-door neighbour. His property’s side boundary adjoined their back boundary and, lower down, the White property adjoined Inverlochy.

  Wilf was one of the district’s genuine characters. He used to have an identical twin brother called Wesley. The White twins were huge; no taller than Andrew but carrying far more weight and not anywhere near so lean and hard. They had been big, fat boys right from the start. Wilf had thighs as thick as strainer posts and walked with a distinctive rolling gait, more like that of a sailor than an old bushman. Both Wilf and Wesley had copied their late father’s peculiar habits of speech. The old chap had had very little schooling because he had worked his guts out since he was twelve. He was a disciple of Henry Lawson and his Bible was The Bulletin, which he read laboriously from cover to cover. Most of his sentences began or finished with the words ‘by gum’, as did Wilf and Wesley’s. Wilf also used English in a convoluted way. It sometimes took a while to work out what he meant, although Andy and Anne didn’t have any trouble.

  When the twins’ father died, the two boys and their sister, Gertrude, inherited the 3300-acre property, Poitrel. It had been surveyed and divided into three equal portions so they could each do as they liked with their blocks. Gertrude had then married, moved away, and left her portion for the two boys t
o look after. Wilf and Wesley were bachelors at the time Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, overran Malaya and then bombed Darwin. The boys had not paid much attention to what the Germans did because it was all so far away, but when Japan entered the war it was a different matter entirely. However, only one brother could join up as the other would have to stay and look after Poitrel. It was Wesley who joined the AIF and, tragically, was killed in New Guinea.

  Wilf took his brother’s death very badly. He became almost a recluse. He never married, he seldom left the property and, until Gertie came back to look after him, the mailman delivered his groceries.

  Wilf s major interest in life was horses. He had a wonderful collection of thoroughbreds, some of which had won classic races. He was a walking, talking authority on the subject. He also bred an amazing range of poultry, including pheasants and peacocks.

  Wilf spent a great deal of his time studying equine pedigrees and race performances. The shelves on his office walls were lined with thoroughbred journals from Europe and the United States. Angus Campbell raced a few horses and considered himself something of an authority on thoroughbreds, but his knowledge was nothing compared with that of Wilf White. Wilf also had a reasonably good knowledge of stock-horse pedigrees. Although he could not handle a horse anywhere near as well as Andy MacLeod could, he probably had a better theoretical knowledge of the background of most stock horses than Andy.

  Andy shore and crutched Wilf’s sheep, and took his payment in sheep. It seemed that Wilf never had any spare cash. Nobody could work out why this was, because Wilf was not a fellow to throw his money around, not locally anyway. Andrew knew that Wilf sent a lot of his money to his widowed sister. He also knew that a fair slice of Wilf’s money went into training fees for his horses. Wilf lived for his horses and his dream was to breed and own a Melbourne Cup winner. Andrew had handled a lot of horses for him and probably knew him better than anyone else in the district. One thing he did know for certain was that Wilf had never bet on a horse.

  The MacLeods had a soft spot for Wilf. During the war, when Andy’s mother ran High Peaks, Wilf had been very helpful. He would come and help Paddy Covers put the shearing through, and many times he had helped muster the high country. He never came empty-handed, but always brought a gift of some kind, usually a box of chocolates for Anne and a large bag of sweets for David.

  ‘Wilf White,’ Andy said to David.

  ‘I wonder what he wants,’ David said with a grin. ‘Probably got some horses for you to break in, Dad.’

  ‘We’d better go and find out,’ Andy said.

  Wilf was on his way up to the house when they came out of the shearing shed. ‘Hey, Wilf, over here,’ Andy called.

  The big man’s rolling walk came to a stop. He turned and his face lit up when he saw the three of them standing outside the shearing shed.

  ‘By gum, it’s a good morning to you, Andy and David, and this must be Sister Kate.’ He nodded to Kate, whom he had never met.

  ‘Yeah, Wilf, this is Anne’s sister, Kate. Kate, meet Wilfred White.’

  ‘By gum, Sister, I am very pleased to meet you. A fine large day, Andy. Just look at young David here. You’ve grown a foot since I last saw you. What are you doing in the shed, David? You tell me.’

  ‘I’m learning to shear, Mr White. Dad is teaching me.’

  ‘You’re learning to shear? You’re starting early. I bet you’ll be a gun shearer just like your father. Your Dad’s the best I ever did see.’

  ‘Maybe I will be and maybe I won’t,’ David said, doubting that he would ever be able to shear as well as his father.

  ‘You got time for a drink o’ tea, Wilf?’ Andy asked. He knew that Wilf had never been known to knock back a cuppa, because that meant he got to sample Anne’s cooking. This had reached new heights since she had begun competing in local shows. Wilf had a sweet tooth, and because of his predilection for cream and other rich things, he was very overweight. Gertie had read the riot act to him and put him on a diet. But he always had a big feed when he came to High Peaks.

  ‘I should think very much so. I might be here a while, Andy. I’ve got to talk to you real hard.’

  Andrew repressed a smile. He was aware that Wilf used peculiar language, but his meaning was never in doubt. ‘That sounds serious, Wilf. Let’s go inside.’

  Anne always made a fuss of Wilf, and she was delighted to see him. He had been unfailingly kind to her from the very first time she had met him as a new bride. Several times she had sent him samples of her cooking, and Wilf was one of those people who never forgot a kindness and always repaid it. The pure Jersey cow she had milked that morning had been a gift from Wilf. And of course Andy never charged him for breaking in his horses, which Wilf repaid with loads of lucerne hay.

  ‘How have you been keeping, Wilf?’ Anne asked when they were all seated in the big lounge room.

  ‘Not the best, Mrs Mac. Not the very best,’ he replied, looking a bit downcast.

  ‘That’s no good. What’s the problem?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, you see, Mrs Mac, it’s my heart. I had a heart attack. Gertie came up and took me to the doctor. They put me in the hospital. They frightened me, Mrs Mac. Told me my heart is no good, no good at all. Gertie is over home now.’

  ‘Oh, Wilf. I am sorry. You kept that very quiet didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell us sooner? And you should have brought Gertie with you,’ Anne scolded. ‘I haven’t seen her for years.’

  ‘You will. I promise. Gert wanted to come but said she had too much work to do.’ Here the old chap looked a bit sheepish. ‘The house got in a bit of a mess with me not feeling so good and Gert is cleaning up. Packing up things, too.’

  Wilf put his hand in his coat pocket, brought out a packet of jubes and placed them in front of David. ‘I think you are getting too big for lollies, young fellow. Mrs Mac, don’t let me leave without giving you something that is in the old ute. Gert says I’m getting a bit forgetful.’

  ‘You really shouldn’t bring me things, Wilf,’ Anne protested.

  ‘Like doing it, Mrs Mac. You’re a bonzer woman. Best woman I know of in these parts.’

  Anne blushed as she put the morning tea on the small table within easy reach of the old man. Andy could see that there was something on Wilf s mind. He had never seen him so agitated.

  ‘David, perhaps you could go and chop some wood for your mother?’ Andrew said.

  ‘Good idea. I’ll go with you,’ Kate suggested.

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t, Kate. David, do as I asked,’ Andy said firmly. David could see his father’s mind was made up.

  Wilf watched the boy leave the room. ‘By gum, you’ve got a great boy there. I’ve been hearing wonderful things about him. I wish he were my son. Too late for that now. I never did meet a woman like you anyway, Mrs Mac.’

  ‘I’m sure you did, Wilf,’ Anne said and smiled. ‘I heard tell that you and Wesley were the two most handsome boys in the district.’

  ‘You always say kind things, Mrs Mac. Never known you not to.’

  ‘What’s the problem, Wilf?’ Andy cut in on the small talk. ‘Is there anything we can do to help?’

  ‘I want to sell Poitrel,’ Wilf said.

  There was total silence in the room while Andy and Anne digested this startling announcement. Kate, not so aware of the importance of Wilf’s declaration and what it entailed, nevertheless sensed that something big was in the wind.

  ‘The whole place?’ Andy asked at last.

  ‘The whole place. All three blocks.’

  ‘What are you going to do without it?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Gert and the doctors aren’t going to let me do much, Mrs Mac. I reckon I might do a bit of fishing. Always wanted to do a bit of fishing in the ocean. Gert and I are going to live on the north coast. She’s sold her house in Sydney. I couldn’t abide to live down there.’

  ‘But your horses, Wilf. Your lovely horses,’ Anne said. She saw his face soften and knew that she had targeted his most vulnerab
le spot.

  ‘How are you going to sell the place, Wilf? Privately or by auction?’ Andy asked.

  ‘Neither. I want you to have it. You and Mrs Mac and young David.’

  ‘We couldn’t afford to buy your land, Wilf. I haven’t long cleared the debt on this place. I don’t have much cash right now. If it was just one block I would have a lash at it, but three would be too much for us to handle. How much have you got on it, Wilf?’

  ‘You can have it for ten dollars an acre under the going price, but I want to sell it as a whole, and I want you to keep my horses. If I die before I sell it, what will become of my horses? I want them all to end their days on Poitrel.’

  ‘Wilf, I’ve got to be honest with you and say that I’m not a thoroughbred man. You know that. If – and it’s a mighty big if – we could handle Poitrel, what would I do with your horses?’

  ‘You could use some of the mares to breed stock horses. You won’t find better bred mares anywhere. Put them to top stock horse sires and you’ll breed the best. Andy, you’re the only man I know who would keep his word once he gave it. You always have and I know you always will. There’s no other man I would trust my horses to and know they’ll be looked after.’

  Andrew shook his head. The ten-dollars-an-acre discount amounted to over $33 000, which was not to be sneezed at, but it was a small sum compared with the true value of Poitrel. He would have to see the bank about mortgaging High Peaks. If they bought the land it would put them back in debt again and he would probably have to go back shearing for the extra income. Certainly there would be added revenue from Poitrel, but Andy knew that the place was badly run-down. The sheep flock had been let slip and was in a right old mess, and the cattle were a hotchpotch of poor-quality Shorthorns and Herefords. It would take some years to pull the place back into shape.

  But Wilf’s offer excited him. The purchase of more land had always been a dream since Anne came to High Peaks. The beauty of Poitrel was that at least half of it was first-class grazing country. There was also a splendid valley where Wilf grew his lucerne. The two places would give them over 7000 acres, which was a very creditable spread of country. And the best thing of all was that Poitrel adjoined High Peaks.