The Call of the High Country

by Tony Parsons

  ‘But what was especially great about my father was that he was my best mate. He was my mate from the first day I could follow him, and from the first time I could sit on a pony that he led. Dad was there the day I won at Canberra, and his final piece of advice probably made the difference between me winning and losing that great trial.

  ‘In a little while my father will be buried alongside his parents on the hill above our home, so for me his spirit will never die. I speak now for both my mother and myself. My father was fortunate to have a wife like my mother who was there for him every day of her life. Life for her will never be the same without her Andy, but I don’t doubt that her incredible strength and wonderful spirit will carry her through. If Dad were here, he would want me to say that for him there was only ever one woman in his life, and that was my mother. I had the two best parents a boy could wish for. For Mum and me, Dad will never be far away. We will carry our love for him in our hearts forever. Every time I drink tea with my mother I shall see my father sitting in his chair, and every time I work a dog or ride a horse I shall remember Dad’s words of advice.’

  Here David put his hand in the pocket of his coat and brought out a sash of rolled silk.

  ‘This is the sash that I won with Clancy at the National. It is the most precious award in our possession. For me, because I wanted so very much to win it for Dad. I wanted him to have this sash but he wouldn’t accept it. But, Dad, if you can hear me now, I want you to know how much I appreciate what you meant to me and what you did for me. This is my final thank you.’

  David moved across to where the coffin lay and spread the silk sash across it. He looked into his mother’s tear-streaked face and nodded. Catriona, Kate and Jean were crying, and Bruce McClymont, who had dropped everything to come to the funeral, was crying, too. Even Angus Campbell was close to tears. Sitting behind Angus and his family were Wilf White and his sister, Gertie. Kate had rung Gertie with the tragic news and said that they would understand if Wilf couldn’t make the funeral at his age. Gertie had said Wilf would attend if it killed him. Wilf, David could see, was very upset.

  Finally David took his place between his mother and his wife and felt the pressure of their hands on his arms. ‘Thank you, David. That was lovely,’ Anne whispered.

  So Andrew MacLeod was taken to the grave that had been prepared on the hill above High Peaks. It was a clear, sunny winter’s day and a gentle breeze was faintly stirring the leaves of the big kurrajong and box trees above the gathering by the graveside. All that remained of Andrew was lowered into the ground. Anne’s roses from the garden close by and David’s sash crowned the coffin. All other flowers were placed on an adjacent mound of earth. Andrew MacLeod was at rest.

  By midafternoon everyone but Bruce had left. He and David walked down to the dog kennels and sat on the big hollow log kennels. ‘I’ll be heading off now,’ Bruce said.

  ‘You sure? You’d be most welcome to stay the night,’ David said.

  ‘I know that. I think it should be just family tonight,’ Bruce said.

  ‘Well, thank you for coming. It’s a long trip and we appreciate it.’

  ‘I’m just sorry it had to be for a funeral. You will miss him.’

  ‘More than anyone will ever know.’

  ‘You’ve won yourself a pretty decent mate in Catriona.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been lucky in many ways. I am doing what I most want to do, surrounded by land and people I love. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.’

  ‘You will keep the dogs going, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will. I may not trial again, except locally, because I have a big job in front of me. Nothing will change with the dogs. I’ll keep them going in the hope that there will be another Andrew MacLeod who has the gift of working sheepdogs.’

  ‘That’s good news. Not that I really thought you would let them go. I’d better push off now. I can get a fair way down the track tonight. I’ll be back when you have those dogs ready for me.’

  David stood with his wife and mother and watched McClymont’s vehicle disappear around the bend of the road.

  ‘Well, that’s that,’ Anne said at last. ‘I must say it’s been quite a day. Well, life must go on. There are chooks to feed and eggs to collect, and –’

  ‘The cow to get in for Greg and dogs to feed,’ David said.

  ‘And Tess’s pups due next week,’ Catriona added.

  ‘Go and feed your dogs, David,’ Anne said. Her eyes were clear now and he knew his mother would be all right.

  So he went down to the dog yard and peered inside. There was Nap, who, as usual, looked him straight in the eye and seemed to anticipate what he was thinking; and there was Clancy with his injured front foot still booted; and there was Clancy’s mother, the brilliant Belle; and Belle’s old mother, now the matriarch of the stud; and Tess, with her distended belly full of pups for which there had been enquiries from all over the country; and King II, named after the dog who had been his father’s last top male dog after Ben; and the other bitches of the strain his father had maintained and made famous.

  David cast his eye over the lot of them. In his view there were no dogs better than these and none would ever take their place. ‘Come on, you lot. Let’s see you run off some steam down the paddock.’

  Anne and Catriona watched his tall figure walk down the track towards the creek. The dogs streamed past him in their enthusiasm to run, all save Clancy and Belle’s old mother, who followed sedately at David’s heels.

  ‘Thank God for that son of yours,’ Catriona said.

  ‘Thank you for waiting for him. I hope you have another little Andrew MacLeod before too long,’ Anne said.

  ‘There will only ever be one Andrew MacLeod,’ Catriona said. ‘And only one David MacLeod.’