Jack & Harry

by Tony McKenna

  Jack and Harry slowly ambled closer and stood watching him work fascinated by his skill as they observed the whip materialise. He looked up, flashed a brief smile then continued, totally absorbed in his work.

  ‘I’m Jack and this is me mate, Harry.’

  ‘Wandoo.’ He stated his name but didn’t look up.

  ‘That’s really great work, Wandoo,’ Harry commented. ‘I couldn’t do anythin’ like that.’

  ‘Bin doin’ it since I was little fella; me grandfather ’e learn me. Make bridles too.’ Wandoo reached down and picked up a bridle at his side holding it up for them to see.

  ‘Gee that’s a beauty.’ Jack took the outstretched bridle examining it closely even though he knew nothing about saddlery.

  Wandoo continued to plait the whip without acknowledging the compliments but they noticed a slight smile etch his face. They stood there feeling awkward so turned to walk away. It was then that Wandoo spoke. ‘Uncle Warri ’e tell us yu fellas come all way from Perth, never bin there … to Perth. Only ever bin to Laverton all me life. It big place, this Perth?’

  Realising they had broken through a barrier they turned back to Wandoo ‘Yeah, it’s big all right but too many people and noisy, eh? Not like out here where you blokes live.’ Jack had the presence of mind not to brag about the city and its comforts or tell about his home and the easy life they had compared to the life the Aboriginal people endured in this arid, desolate country.

  He was not aware at that time that the boy sitting before them and most like him would not want to trade their lifestyle and freedom for the restrictions of living in a large town or city. Although Jack and Harry didn’t know it then, and it would take some time for it to develop, they too would one day feel exactly like Wandoo and his people.

  ‘Uncle Warri ’e say yu fellas never rid a ’orse before ’e ’n Rennol learn you ’bout a week ago, that right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Harry was embarrassed to admit they were novices.

  ‘Yu do pretty good. Us boys we watch yu come inta Docker wit’ uncle Warri.’ Wandoo concentrated on his whip.

  ‘Thanks. We’ve got a lot still to learn though.’

  Wandoo grunted, nodding his head. ‘Yeah, it take long time to ride good but yu boys get the ’ang of ’im pretty quick I tink.’

  Not knowing what else to say, they were relieved to hear the dogs announce the return of Warri and Reynold from their ride and they walked off to meet them. There was a spring in their steps though at Wandoo’s observations of their ability to ride. They were glad though that they had come into Docker at a walk and not at a trot because they still hadn’t got the hang of that.

  ‘He seems to be OK, Harry, just a bit shy I reckon.’

  ‘Hope that’s what it is, Jack. I feel a bit of a drip around those blokes though.’

  ‘Know what you mean, Harry, but after a few more weeks in the saddle we’ll be darn near as good as they are on a horse, eh?’ He slapped Harry on the back as they walked.

  Harry playfully knocked Jack’s hat off his head. ‘We need to get these hats a bit worn in, Jack, they look so bloody new compared to everyone else’s.’

  The clothes they had bought in Kalgoorlie were now creased and patchy with sweat, the newness camouflaged with red dust, grime from riding and ash from the fires. Their hats however, although dusty, still looked store-bought. When Jack picked his hat up from where it had landed after Harry had flicked it from his head, he crunched it in his hands then punched inside the crown.

  ‘You’re right, mate,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to work on these.’ He punched the hat harder before putting back on his head and pulling the brim low over his eyes.

  They greeted Warri and Reynold as they slid from the saddles and were astonished when Reynold pulled two chocolate peanut bars from his shirt. They had forgotten about the chocolate that Harry had bought and given to Reynold way back in Menzies the first day of the trip to Mt Margaret.

  ‘I et mine on the way back.’ Reynold grinned as he handed them the chocolates.

  ‘Get an early night, boys,’ Warri said as he finished his now customary after-tea smoke. ‘We gotta long hard ride tomorra. Not laik the trip over, we need to get to meet up with Tom Cooper ’n ’is boys as soon as we can. They’ll ’ave started wit’out us ’n we ’ave to catch them blokes up. Mob too big for jus’ them fellas,’ Warri grinned. ‘They need us fer sure.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  They hit the track just before sun up riding in tandem with Reynold and Warri leading. Jack and Harry felt important when Warri said they were second in the line and that the new boys could bring up the rear leading the packhorses. Warri set a fast pace and the lunch break was brief with the horses left saddled. There was just time to set a fire, boil the billy, wash down a slice of cold damper and then it was back in the saddle and on the trail again.

  Passing through a varying landscape fringed with hills and high bluffs they crossed red sandy ridges dotted with spiky spinifex and saltbush. They saw huge rounded monoliths and jagged sentinels of weathered rock rising up beside the track and they rode through deep steep walled gorges of sheer rock peppered with numerous caves, coming across a number of crystal clear waterholes flanked by ancient gnarled gum trees.

  Jack and Harry talked animatedly about the vastness and beauty of the scenery, continually surprised by the number of animals and reptiles they saw. Often, however, they were silenced by the primeval atmosphere of the prehistoric land they were privileged to witness, awed by the fact that few white men had ever set foot through this majestic landscape.

  The first night out they camped on the sandy banks of a billabong nestled at the base of rugged red cliffs. It was tranquil beside the still water and in the peaceful silence they all spoke with hushed voices. Even the animals appeared to sense the atmosphere being unusually quiet, particularly the dogs that usually squabbled over food scraps or snapped at each other for dominance of the pack.

  On the afternoon of the third day out from Docker River Warri pointed to some distant ranges washed a faded magenta by the afternoon sun. ‘See them ’ills there, that’s where Lasseter camped in a cave when ’e got sick.’

  ‘Lasseter?’ Harry asked. ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘Yu not heard of Harry Lasseter? I thought ev’rybody know ’bout ’im. Lasseter ’n ’is gold that nobody ever find.’

  ‘Tell us about it, uncle Warri.’ The mention of gold sparked Jack’s interest.

  ‘Well, Lasseter was prospectin’ out in this country when ’e got real crook ’n wandered about for days until ’e found a cave over there.’ Warri pointed again in the direction of the range with peaks a hazy silhouette against the cobalt blue sky. ‘Some of our people find ’im ’n take care of ’im for a bit until some white fellas come across ’em ’n take Lasseter wit’ ’em.’

  ‘What happened then, uncle Warri?’ Jack was intrigued.

  ‘No white fella ever see where ’e found that gold though they look ’n look for years. ’Bout twenty or so I reckon they look.’

  ‘He found gold then did he?’

  ‘He got lotta nugget on ’im when ’e found ’n ’e plan to go back ’n get rich when ’e better. He pegged a claim out but nobody know where.’

  ‘Why didn’t he go back then, uncle Warri?’ Harry was now caught up in the enchantment of the story.

  ‘When those white fellas take Lasseter ’e get crooker ’n later ’e die never tellin’ anyone where the gold is.’

  ‘Do you know where it is, uncle Warri?’

  ‘Me? Nahh! Yu tink I keep drovin’ if I know where all that gold is?’ he laughed.

  ‘Do your people out here know where it is then?’ Jack persisted.

  Warri was quiet for a few seconds before he answered. ‘Maybe, Jack, maybe.’

  ‘If they know where it is then, why haven’t they told anyone or mined it themselves?’

  ‘If our people tell, it not long before white fellas come in ’n take over. This land then be torn
up laik other places. Lotta places out ’ere sacred to us people.’

  ‘You could be rich though … if you found it.’

  ‘Rich? I got all I need now boys, good ’orses, plenty tucker, this land all ’bout.’ He shrugged his shoulders waving his arm in a wide arc about him.

  Though the boys tried to encourage him to continue telling them more about Lasseter and the gold Warri declined to talk further about it, dismissing them by changing the subject and diverting their attention.

  ‘Not too far ahead’s a waterhole. Yu boys reckon yu can spot ’im? Yu boys ride through ’ere some time yu need to know ’bout tings laik that more than ’bout gold. Yu got plenty gold ’n no got water you die quick out ’ere.’

  Angas Downs station came into view late on the morning of the fourth day’s ride, the iron roofs of the outbuildings and homestead glinting in the sun. Jack and Harry wondered if they would get the chance to have a decent bath or maybe get to sleep in a proper bed for a change but their daydreams were short lived.

  Reining to a stop beside the vast cattle yards some distance from the homestead they were met by a huge bear of a man with a grizzled grey beard riding a bay horse. He greeted Warri warmly, nodding to Jack and Harry, surprise at the presence of two young white boys clearly evident in his expression although he didn’t mention it or address them.

  ‘Mob’s got a two-day start on ya, Warri, but I’m sure you’ll catch up with ’em tomorrow if ya keep ridin’ on. Have a spell though, water the horses.’ He indicated a concrete trough near the yards fed by a pipe running from a tall windmill nearby pumping water from a bore.

  ‘I saw ya comin’ a ways off and boiled the billy. Also got cook to make a stew up. It’s on the stove in the hut over there. It’s a big pot so I’m sure there’s enough for all of ya. Left a coupla loaves of home-made bread in the flywire safe too.’ The big man didn’t dismount. ‘Have a feed and good luck on the drove. Tom’ll be waitin’ for you blokes. He’s a bit short handed but wanted to get crackin’ with the mob rather than just sit around and wait. Good luck!’ He waved a hand in parting and was about to leave when Jack kneed his horse forward.

  ‘Sir?’ The man was taken aback by Jack’s approach. ‘Could you post a letter somehow for me and me mate?’

  ‘A letter, young man? Yeah I suppose I could put it with the station’s outgoing mail. Where’s it goin’ to?’

  ‘Kalgoorlie,’ Jack replied, holding the rumpled envelope out to the big man. ‘I haven’t got any stamps though but I can give you some money … how much is a stamp?’

  The man examined the address scrawled in pencil. ‘Father O’Malley, Catholic Church, Kalgoorlie,’ he said half to himself. ‘I’m sure the station can stand the cost of a stamp for ya, young man. You and yer mate part of Warri’s team?’

  ‘We’re travellin’ with him and Reynold over there.’ Jack pointed to their friend lounging in the saddle next to Warri and hesitated before continuing. ‘Harry and me are on our way to Coober Pedy.’

  ‘Coober Pedy! Where are you two blokes from then?’ When Jack answered ‘Perth’, the man peered at him strangely.

  ‘Perth eh? Bit out of yer way up here if ya on yer way from Perth to Coober Pedy aren’t ya?’

  Jack didn’t reply but Warri joined the conversation. ‘Boys they good mates wit’ Rennol ’ere, know ’im from Kalgoorlie. They comin’ on a ride ’n learnin’ drovin’ from me ’n Rennol on the way to Kupa. Doin’ good too, be old ’ands at ’im soon.’

  ‘No business of mine, Warri, just curious is all. I’ll get the letter in the mail, son. Good luck on the trip and if ya find a big opal, remember I did ya a favour.’ The big man laughed, wheeled the bay around and rode off at a fast canter toward the homestead.

  ‘Does he own the place, uncle Warri?’ Jack asked.

  ‘No, ’e jus’ leadin’ hand. Stan bin ’ere many years though. Probably knows more about this place than the boss I reckon. OK then, let’s get some tucker and keep goin’. That Tom Cooper ’e’ll lose ’alf the mob lessen we get there to ’elp ’im out. Tom Cooper ’e darn good drover but ’e not as good as Warri.’

  They caught up with Tom Cooper and the mob, some two thousand head, as Stan, at Angus Downs, had predicted, around one o’clock on the second day’s ride. They saw the dust cloud first and the Aboriginal boys became excited, urging their horses into a fast canter, then, as they topped a sandy rise, there about a mile away they saw the herd spread out before them.

  Nervous anticipation coursed through Jack’s mind as they closed on the cattle strung out ahead with the crew of stockmen herding them from the rear and outriders keeping stragglers splitting from the mob.

  Harry was amazed by the noise, a hubbub of cattle bawling, dogs barking, whips cracking and men whistling as they urged dawdling beasts to keep up with the body of the herd. After many days of riding through bush solitude with only the creak of saddle leather, the occasional shrill cry of a hawk or screeching of sulphur-crested cockatoos near a waterhole, the sound, although not loud, was constant and intrusive.

  Nearing the mob it was evident that Wandoo and his two mates were anxious to be in the thick of the action so Reynold took the packhorse leads and handed them to Jack and Harry. Then after a nod of approval from Warri the four of them spurred their mounts into a gallop and, with hats waving as they raced toward the mob hooting greetings, they were met by equally enthusiastic riders.

  One horseman rode out to meet Warri and the boys. ‘This is Tom Cooper comin’.’ Warri recognised the rider.

  There were brief greetings and some friendly jibing between Warri and the ‘Boss Drover’ Tom Cooper.

  ‘Where have you been, Warri, you old scoundrel? Getting too old to ride fast now I suppose. You been laying down in the shade of an old ghost gum somewhere I suppose, dreaming about when you were a good fella drover.’

  ‘Only left Angas last night,’ Warri lied, a grin on his stubbled face, ‘I knew you’d ’ave trouble tryin’ to run this mob by youself, Tom. Yu lose many cattle so far?’

  ‘Lost any cattle? Nahh, I think we’ve gained a few.’ Both men laughed, obviously well at ease in each other’s company, then Tom Cooper nodded toward where the boys were a few yards away, grins on their faces and his tone became serious. ‘Who are these blokes Warri? I didn’t expect you to have a couple of white lads with you and anyhow, you’ve brought more hands than I need or can afford.’ He turned to Jack and Harry, their grins now gone. ‘No offence, lads.’

  ‘Tom, boys they don’ want no pay ’n pretty good ’elp too. They bin wit’ me ’n Rennol since Warburton. They laik family now.’ He smiled over at the boys and winked.

  ‘How come they don’t want to get paid for working, Warri? Sounds a bit funny to me.’ He was unconvinced.

  Jack kneed his mount forward to where the two men were talking leaving Harry with the packhorses. ‘Sir, I’m Jack Ferguson and that’s me mate, Harry Turner, back there.’ Jack nodded over his shoulder at Harry holding the packhorses. ‘We just need to get to Coober Pedy, sir. We don’t want any pay just the chance to travel with you rather than go it alone and I’m sure we can pitch in somewhere to give a hand for our keep.’ He held the man’s gaze, taking in his lined weathered face and stubbled chin.

  Cooper was surprised by Jack’s self-assured approach and stunned to be called ‘sir.’ He couldn’t remember ever being addressed that way except maybe once by a female teller when he had opened a bank account in Alice Springs some years ago. ‘Coober Pedy eh? That’s a fair ride south and we’re not going there anyhow. You and yer mate ever done any droving, lad?’

  Jack avoided answering the question directly. ‘We can both ride pretty good and use a stockwhip. Know how to look after our horses too. Warri taught us a lot over the past coupla weeks …we won’t get in anybody’s way.’

  Cooper thought for a time, glancing at Harry holding the horses then back at Jack. ‘Warri … you vouch for these lads then?’

  ‘I learn ’em lot, Tom, they do goo
d real quick.’

  ‘OK ,Jack, you and your mate can tag along but keep out of the way for a while until I see how you go and seeing as you’re coming with us me name’s Mr Cooper, or you can call me boss.’ He turned to Warri. ‘Warri, you can take these lads and catch up with Toffy. He’s ahead somewhere and you blokes can help set up camp for the night. I’ll have a think and see where I can fit ’em in.’ He inclined his head in the direction of the boys.

  ‘I’ll have a yarn with you about it tonight, Warri.’ Tom Cooper wheeled his horse around and sprinted back to the mob.

  ‘He doesn’t seem too keen to have us along, Jack, does he?’ Harry walked the horses forward.

  ‘Hmm, not sure. I think he was a bit surprised at us bein’ here that’s all. What do you think, uncle Warri?’

  ‘Tom Cooper ’e alright. When ’e see ’ow good I learn yu bloke ’e’ll say to me, ‘Warri, yu got any more fellas good like these blokes?’

  Both boys smiled at how Warri always seemed to be able to answer most questions by including biased self-praise and they had learned to expect this quite endearing habit.

  ‘Why’s the wagon up ahead, uncle Warri, and not travellin’ with the mob?’

  ‘That’s ’nother thing to learn, Harry. Wagon ’e usually always go up front, pick a good place to camp nearby some water, get a fire started ’n set up tucker for the team. Drovers they pretty ’ungry by tea time. Better get started.’

  They skirted around the mob to ride on ahead leaving the dusty din of the herd and after an hour or so caught sight of the wagon drawn by a pair of carthorses labouring under the heavy load. The wagon was actually a dray with large wooden spoked wheels. It was a relic of an earlier era with a hooped iron structure supporting a faded green canvas stretched over it to protect the supplies from the sun and dust.