The Call of the High Country

by Tony Parsons

  ‘What do you think of Ajana, young fellow?’ Wilf asked.

  David wasn’t sure what to say. He knew enough about horses to be able to tell what was and was not a good type. David recognised that the mare before him now was an even bigger, grander version of Gift.

  ‘She’s a real beaut, Mr White. The best-looking mare I’ve ever seen. Big, too. She should have a fair stride.’

  ‘No flies on this boy, Andy. Chip off the old block. You’ve picked it straight off. She has got a big stride. She’s by a son of Ajax. Same colour as Magnificent. Could be his sister, to look at her. And she’s got terrific speed.’

  David had never heard of Ajax or Magnificent, but he thought they were probably long dead, knowing how Wilf raved on about past champions.

  ‘Have you bred from her yet?’ David asked.

  ‘Not yet. Not sure if I would send her back for another season of racing. Not going to now. Refused a six-figure offer for her. Got another use for her.’

  ‘What’s that?’ David asked.

  ‘Do you like her, son?’

  ‘Well, she seems a terrific mare from what I’ve seen. I would like to be on her when she’s galloping.’

  ‘Glad you like her – she’s yours! Now, Mrs Mac,’ he said, turning abruptly to Anne, ‘you listen to me. This is to be David’s mare. He can use her any way he likes. If he wants to breed a few good thoroughbreds, she would be a great foundation mare. By gum, she would. She is never to be sold. Only condition that goes with her. None of my mares are ever to be sold.’

  ‘Wow, do you mean it, Mr White?’ David asked.

  ‘Of course I mean it. Never meant anything more in my life. I heard what you did up there on Yellow Rock. Saved that pony and took a buster doing it. Only a true horseman would have done that. Plenty round here would have put that pony down. You’re going to be something, David. Maybe one day you’ll even be a legend. My days are done with horses, but I reckon I can help you. Mind you, I’ll be coming back here while I’m able, and I’ll want to see what you’re doing with Ajana.’

  ‘What if we don’t buy Poitrel?’ David asked with his heart in his mouth.

  ‘The deal stands. This is between you and me, young fellow. It’s got nothing to do with your parents. The mare is yours. I’ve just given her to you. Her papers will be transferred to you, too. You could even race her up here if your Dad says it’s okay. Now, here’s my hand on it.’

  David took the big hand that was thrust at him, and his own hand was engulfed completely.

  ‘Can we take her back today?’

  The big man’s laughter boomed out like a cannon. ‘Course you can. No good Ajana here and you over there thinking about her.’

  ‘Looks like we’ll be taking five horses back today, then,’ Andy said. ‘Thank you so much, Wilf. I’m not sure if David really appreciates just what he’s got and what this mare is worth. He’s a very lucky boy.’

  ‘No, Andy, you’re the lucky fellow to have a boy like him. I wish I had a son of my own, then I wouldn’t be selling Poitrel. No, by gum. Now, I reckon you will all want to look through the house.’

  The homestead was a timber construction, painted white, with a green galvanised-iron roof. It was a very large house with a verandah on three sides. Bulk electricity had only recently reached Poitrel, and the old generator was still in place. Gertie had installed a new electric stove in the big kitchen. The rooms were large with high ceilings and most of the walls were adorned with paintings or framed photographs of horses. Some of these pictures were positively spectacular. One that caught David’s eye was a colour picture of Ajana winning a Randwick race by three lengths. ‘Wow,’ he breathed as his eyes dwelt on it.

  On the far side of the house there were steps that led down to a quite extensive vegetable garden. There were tomatoes, lettuces, cucumbers and pumpkins galore. At the lower end of the garden, where the land was flat beside the creek, several half-sheets of galvanised iron were set in the ground and held there with steel posts.

  ‘What you reckon about my irrigation set-up, Andy? Just remove the iron and it waters that whole flat. Grow anything there, you can.’

  ‘No wonder you don’t go to town,’ Kate suggested. ‘You have plenty to do here.’

  Yes, including studying pedigrees and race form, Andrew thought.

  ‘Keeps me busy, Sister Gilmour,’ Wilf replied.

  ‘Kate, please,’ she said.

  They went back into the house, where Gertie was waiting for them with some freshly brewed tea. She put her head to one side and studied David intently. ‘Oh, yes, he is going to be very nice looking, Anne. I can see his grandmother in him. Of course I can see both of you in him, but one could never forget David’s grandmother. This young man is going to break hearts before long.’

  ‘Mine first, Gertie, if he’s to ride that big mare,’ she replied.

  Wilf’s laughter filled the room. ‘I reckon this young fellow could handle Ajana in his sleep.’

  ‘He doesn’t need any more encouragement, Wilf, thank you. His father is bad enough. No wonder I have grey hairs.’

  ‘One day this son of yours will be a household name, Anne. You remember what I say.’

  ‘Don’t give him a big head,’ Anne laughed. ‘He’s hard enough to handle as it is. Now, Wilf, we have brought some tucker. We thought we’d lunch up on the peak.’

  ‘Great idea. Would you mind if I poked along with you?’

  ‘Course not,’ Andy replied.

  ‘You know the place and could show us the short cuts.’

  ‘Might be the last time for me,’ Wilf said.

  ‘Can I saddle you a horse?’ David asked.

  ‘You can, young David. Damned good of you to make the offer.’

  Later that afternoon, when they had seen as much of Poitrel as could be seen in one day, Wilf insisted that they stay for afternoon tea. It was obvious that he wanted to talk about the sale of the property. When they had finished their smoko he looked directly at Andrew and said, ‘Well, Andy, you’ve had a good look at the old place, warts and all. What do you reckon? Do you want Poitrel?’

  ‘Sure I want it, Wilf. We all want it. I’ll go and see the bank tomorrow. What worries me most is that we might have trouble meeting the six-monthly payments. As you know, our wool clip is our main income, and we won’t be paid for that until the end of the year. I can’t make enough, even if I ring every shed, to make all that much difference. The first year or two will be the worst, until we get the stock built up here. Poitrel could handle another thousand sheep. If we could run near three thousand sheep plus cattle, we would be in better shape. I think I’d prefer to ask the bank for a bigger initial loan to give you your first two payments. That way you could buy your house and have enough to live on for twelve months and by then the two wool clips will be paid for. How does that strike you?’

  ‘I tell you what we’ll do, Andy. You get your solicitor to draw up a contract that suits you money-wise and then bring it back and let me see it. I want you people to have Poitrel and my horses. Don’t see why we can’t do as you suggest.’

  ‘We’re very grateful to you, Wilf,’ Andy said gravely.

  ‘Well, Sister Kate,’ Wilf said, turning his attention, ‘now that you’ve seen the old place, would you like to live here?’

  ‘I’d absolutely love to,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, the foxes are a menace. They get a few stragglers that will perch outside the pens. There’s a few good Jerseys here for milk and cream. Do you milk, Sister?’

  ‘I do now,’ she said.

  Finally, laden with vegetables, the MacLeod family, including Kate, left Poitrel. The new mare went with them, and David watched her with his eyes glued to the back window of the truck.

  ‘You’d better let me handle her for a while, Davie,’ Andy said. ‘Most racehorses have only two paces – walk and gallop. She’ll need a bit of education. That is, if you plan to ride her. We’ll have to see how she handles the hill country. She’s a big mare
and I doubt she would be as good on her feet as our horses. Your mother will worry like hell if I don’t try her out first.’

  ‘I haven’t thought what I’ll do with her, Dad. You know best. It would be handy to be able to ride her. Perhaps we could put a good stock horse or quarter horse over her.’

  ‘That would be my way of thinking. We certainly won’t have any spare money to play about with thoroughbreds for the next few years. They cost a mint. But she’s a bonzer mare and a proven winner. She could breed anything, and her stock should be worth a fair bit.’

  David’s face was all smiles. It seemed to him that the day had been almost perfect. They had ridden all over Poitrel, with the entertaining Wilf in tow, lunched on the highest part of the property, and brought back with them to High Peaks the fastest mare in northern New South Wales – and she belonged to him. To him. The fastest mare in the north and one of the fastest in all Australia belonged to him.

  That night at dinner Andrew and Kate discussed the logistics of taking on Poitrel.

  ‘A man would be an idiot not to take it on Wilf’s terms. I just wish David was a few years older,’ Andrew said.

  ‘Andy, I’ve said I will help all I can. Coming up here has given me a whole new outlook on life. There is a real challenge here. There’s something elemental about these hills. I need this change just as much as you need Poitrel,’ Kate replied.

  ‘And we can’t wait to have you, Kate. You must treat both places as your home. If this Poitrel deal goes through – and I can’t see why it won’t – and you decide to live there, there would be no rent and the power and phone bills would be paid out of the station account. We will make you a legal shareholder, but don’t expect any return on your money for some time.’

  Kate couldn’t wish for more than that.

  The next morning, Anne decided that she would accompany Andy to see the bank manager. David hated going to town so he opted to stay at home with Kate. Together they stood at the front steps and watched the utility head off down the road, carrying both their hopes with it. They knew they were on the threshold of a new and exciting development.

  ‘I hope there aren’t any problems with the money,’ David said.

  Kate put an arm about his shoulders. ‘You and me both, Davie. I sure do want to move up here. I’m busting to have a go at those campdrafts, and I want to buy a horse I can call my own.’

  ‘Dad says that Angus Campbell will be fit to be tied when he learns about us buying Poitrel. He’ll never believe we could afford it. He’s made no secret of the fact that he wants the place. He’ll be nearly as mad about me getting Ajana. He’s never had a horse as good as her.’

  ‘You and I are going to have a lot of fun over the next few years. Maybe I’ll even learn to work a sheepdog. I couldn’t have two better teachers. Now, what are you going to do today?’

  ‘Aw, not much. Mum said I have to hang about the house while she and Dad are away. I might give Lad a lesson and I might trim Ajana’s feet. Save Dad a job.’

  ‘Right, then. I’ll see you back in the house when you’re ready.’

  Later, they did all the chores earlier than usual so there would be nothing left to do but run the cow and calf in when Anne and Andrew arrived back from town. Kate could sense the excitement building up in David.

  Aunt and nephew stood together when at last the utility came up the road and through the front entrance of High Peaks. There was no smile on his father’s face and David’s spirits slumped dramatically. Kate gave his arm a squeeze and they went down the steps of the verandah to help carry in the groceries.

  Beyond his usual greeting Andy said nothing.

  ‘Have a good day, David?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Mmm. Kate made me a chocolate cake,’ he replied.

  ‘She will spoil you rotten,’ Anne said.

  ‘Well, I’d better go and get changed and do a few jobs,’ Andy said.

  ‘They’re all done, Dad,’ David said. He was dying to ask what had happened at the bank, but he couldn’t bear to be told that they had been turned down. Behind his back Anne winked at Kate.

  Andy walked away a few steps and then turned and looked at his son.

  ‘I can see that you’re busting to know how we went at the bank,’ he said.

  David just stared up at his father, his eyes wide open in anticipation.

  ‘We got the loan,’ Andy said quietly.

  David let out a whoop. ‘Does that mean we own Poitrel now?’

  ‘I reckon it does. I’ve already rung Mr White from town and given him the news. Our solicitor is drawing up the contract right now. We have a lot to do, Davie boy.’

  ‘You beauty! Just as well it’s school holidays. What’s first?’

  ‘I’ll have to ring Gil Henderson tonight and see if he’ll give me a pen for his Queensland run. He used to kick off early February, so we’ve got about a month to get things sorted out. I’ve asked Wilf if we can go ahead and put in some gates on the back fence, and that’s a goer. I’ll have to draw up a programme for you three to work to. By the way, Davie, your Aunty Kate is now a shareholder in High Peaks Pastoral Company.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means she’s a part owner. It also means she can give you orders until you’re old enough to take over.’

  ‘You mean it?’

  ‘I mean it. If you do silly things while I’m away, she can whomp you, too.’

  Kate winked at him and David knew that everything was going to be all right.

  Gil Henderson was very pleased to hear from Big Andy MacLeod that night. ‘There’s a pen for you whenever you want one,’ he said. ‘I thought you had everything worked out over there.’

  ‘We’ve bought the next-door property, Gil, and I’ll have to find some extra money to keep things going. I don’t know how many two-hundreds are in me these days, but I’ll keep your fellows honest.’

  ‘I reckon you will,’ Henderson said. He had seen Andy shear 260 in a day at Blackall.

  The month sped up, and when the MacLeods took delivery of Poitrel on February second, Andy, although the calmest of men, found it hard to maintain his composure. They had almost doubled their land with this acquisition.

  They all went over to farewell Wilf and Gertie and to install Kate in her new home. By an amazing coincidence, not just one but two vacancies had cropped up at the local hospital and Kate and a young woman who had been a student nurse with Kate in Sydney got the positions. Sister Jean Courteney was looking for a place to live, so Kate suggested that she stay with her at Poitrel for the time being.

  ‘You know you’ll be welcome to come back any time, Wilf,’ Andy said. ‘You can stay with us at High Peaks, or with Kate. Kate is one of the family and of the same mind.’

  ‘Thank you, Andy,’ Wilf muttered. It seemed that for once he found it difficult to say much more.

  ‘Thank you for Poitrel and for Ajana, Mr White. We’ll look after them both,’ David said.

  ‘I know you will, young fellow. And I’ll be thinking of you a lot. You write to me and tell me every time you win a dog trial or a draft. Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘I’m not a man to say much, Wilf, but believe me when I say we all appreciate what you’ve done for us. Nobody here will ever forget it,’ Andy said.

  ‘The bush needs people like you and yours, Andy. I am pleased to help you on your way. Yes, by gum.’

  All eyes followed the red utility as it turned out of the gate and on to the road to town. Anne couldn’t help but shed a tear as she wondered if she would ever see that kind man again. When the ute disappeared from view, they made their way back inside the homestead.

  Jean Courteney was waiting for them. The MacLeods had taken an instant liking to her, and she was glad to have such a warm family around her. She had had an unsatisfactory marriage and was now divorced. Like Kate, she was keen on animals and prepared to help out on the property wherever she could. Jean was fair-haired with hazel eyes, and she had a willow
y figure that never seemed to show fatigue.

  The day before Andy was to leave for the Queensland shearing run, he took David aside for a serious talk. ‘Davie, I don’t have to tell you that I wouldn’t be leaving here unless I had to. It’s not something I’d planned on doing. You’ll have to do a lot more work with me away. That includes always keeping your eyes open. Watch the stock at all times. You’ll have to do a fair bit of riding at weekends and in the holiday periods. Pay strict attention to troughs and windmills. Never go out without fly-dressing and shears. Now, ten to one something will go wrong sooner or later. That can’t be helped, because you can’t be home here and at school, too. You’ll have to cut back on the dog trials and drafts while I’m away.’

  ‘Can I work Lad at the local trial?’

  ‘You’ll have to sort that out with Mum and Kate. I’ll give you a tip. They both love you a lot, but don’t take either of them for granted. Know what I mean?’

  ‘I think so, Dad.’

  ‘That’s the ticket. In a few years you’ll be able to drive yourself, and then you can trial and draft to your heart’s content. What we’ve got here is a matter of priorities. The dogs and horses will be here when we’ve paid for Poitrel and you’ll also be in a far better position to go away … Follow me?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll be just as happy looking after the two places anyway.’

  ‘That’s the boy. And there’s something else. I don’t want you killing yourself with work while I’m away. With what Kate has given us and some extra money from the bank, we can afford to pay for a bit more labour. I don’t want you busting yourself trying to crutch at weekends and then going back to school completely stuffed. If we need a man to help us, or a couple of crutchers, we’ll employ them. Okay?’

  ‘Dad, I’ll only crutch and shear anything that really needs it.’

  ‘Good. I’ve drawn up a programme for you to follow. The main things to watch are water, drenching, lambing and calving. And, of course, the flies. If you’ve got any doubts about the stock, call the stock inspector. I’ve had a word with him and he knows the set-up. I think you’ll find that he’ll drop in every now and again. Don’t hesitate to get Mum or Kate to call him if you think anything is wrong with the stock. Don’t do anything silly with the horses. Stick to the ones you know you can handle. Don’t ride the big chestnut mare in the hills. She’s okay for poking about the cows, and you could ride her from here to Poitrel by road but not up Yellow Rock. Now, about high school – how are you finding it?’