Ravenswood Dreaming, page 17
When they had finished eating they rested for a while not wanting to break the spell that had enveloped them. Well I guess we had better get moving. John took the initiative. William stood up and emptied the catch into a canvas bag which he tied off with a piece of rope so that he could sling it across his back. After he had washed out both buckets he filled them with the cool clear water. With a bucket in one hand and a gun in the other they started back.
It was around mid-afternoon when the intrepid fishermen emerged from the trees along the river. Something moved near the hut. They had visitors. An Aboriginal woman camouflaged against the burnt-out trunk of a large gum tree said something and signalled with one hand. William and John stopped in their tracks. Without saying anything they put down the buckets and bags they were carrying and unhooked their guns off their shoulders. The dog though did not stop but ran ahead thirty yards and stood barking a challenge. Two other women emerged from the hut one carrying a small bag of flour that they knew was only half full. William was tempted to fire a shot over their heads but this would have meant that only one of their guns was loaded and they didn’t know who else was around. The three women disappeared into the bush behind the hut.
The two boys advanced warily leaving the buckets of water on the ground and keeping their guns in their hands. Everything looked normal. William thought that the women had not been in the hut very long before they were disturbed. There did not seem to be anything else missing. Anything of value (axe, hammer, wedges, saws) and the spare bags of flour and other food stuff, was kept in the large trunk, which was solidly locked and would take several blows with a large hammer to break it open.
That’s the first time any of them have stolen anything from me. It seems that we will have to be a bit more careful what we leave around. William didn’t seem to be too worried.
Well if that’s all they have taken then they must have been hungry. As long as they are not being aggressive or threatening and send the women to get food we can deal with that. John was philosophical. Just the same I think I’ll take a look around the immediate vicinity behind the hut and see if they have been up to anything else.
You be careful and stay within earshot of the hut, William warned.
I’ll be careful don’t worry. John picked up his gun and headed quietly and cautiously into the bush.
He returned about fifteen minutes later having not seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.
In his absence William had mixed up some flour and water and a touch of salt and moulded it into a flat rounded loaf which he placed on a pan and then inserted it in the hot ashes alongside the fire and covered it with hot coals. It would bake slowly and be ready when the gilgies were cooked.
He looked up as John placed his gun on the stump. See anything he asked?
No nothing to report, everything seems normal. They must have got what they wanted and gone back to their camp.
Yes, you are probably right.
William placed the bag of gilgies in a shady spot. He then stoked up the fire, taking care not to disturb the hot coals covering the dough and placed a large cauldron of water on the iron bars to boil.
The two boys then spent two hours cutting some dry she-oak logs into firewood with a cross cut saw and stacking it neatly so that it could be easily covered with a tarpaulin. They cut enough to last them four or five days, as there were heavy clouds to the south, so it was likely they would get some rain during the night and through the next few days.
The water in the cauldron was now boiling so William, after apologizing profusely, tipped the whole bag of gilgies in. He left the cauldron on the fire and explained that it was necessary to bring the water back to boiling and then count to one hundred and then lift it off and count to one hundred again before draining them.
While he waited for the water to come back to boiling William lined the now empty bucket with a piece of hessian then used a butcher’s hook to lift the cauldron off the fire and place it on the ground.
He then turned to John and explained that he was now going to pour the hot water and the gilgies into the hessian lined bucket and it may be necessary to drain some of the water out of the bucket to avoid it overflowing and washing the now cooked gilgies onto the ground. They proceeded with this plan and with some instructions from William and excellent co-operation they managed to transfer all the gilgies to the bucket. All they had to do then was lift the hessian containing the gilgies out of the bucket and discard the water.
With mouths watering they stood around one of the stumps with the steaming gilgies piled up in the middle and broke open the hot fire baked bread and ate ravenously. They both agreed that gilgies were as good as any food they had tasted.
The gilgies devoured and most of the bread eaten John volunteered to make a pot of tea. While he was getting the water on to boil and the teapot warmed and ready, William disappeared in to the hut. After a bit of rummaging around he emerged with a bottle of porter wine.
John this might be a fitting end to an almost perfect day.
William, my dear friend, I think you could be right.
They both rolled one of the thicker pieces of firewood closer to the fire to serve as a stool. William uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount into two mugs. A toast he declared, the perfect day. John echoed him, the perfect day.
William was smiling. This bottle of wine was given to me by the men at the mill when I announced that I had become eligible for a land grant and would be leaving the mill. A dream, come true. It was such an uplifting moment for them, that a former servant would be granted land. They were very happy for me. I said that I would drink it when the first crop was sown. I think that the moment is at hand and what better time is there than with a former resident of Clarence who has become my most dear friend and helped to make that dream become a reality.
Yes, William it is wonderful. Clarence was a bad start but I think this could be a land of opportunity after all. I know my father’s dream was to own land and farm it. But right now, the family has to take the path that will bring in a regular income. Once the two young ones are working or are independent then it may be possible to take a bit more of a risk.
They sat by the fire for a long time that night, just staring into the flames, mellowed out by the wine. Talking now and then but mostly quiet, each content with his own thoughts. Sleep came easily.
Daybreak. Breakfast and hot sweet tea.
The winter gradually enveloped them. The length of the days shortened. A sense of urgency dominated their thoughts. They slipped into a rhythm, clearing the land, using the cross cut saw, shovelling the dirt, wielding the axe. Back to the hut for lunch. Then back out in the field for more of the same. The rain came and went. Repetitive, monotonous days drifted into one another and May merged into June.
They had managed to shoot a small kangaroo on the last day in May and that provided them with some welcome fresh meat and a huge pot of stew with beans and potatoes added. The tail was converted to soup and John even had a go at making a pie which didn’t turn out to look like a pie but tasted alright.
Heavy rain one day and they couldn’t work.
Quite suddenly the final corner of the first field was within reach. They congratulated one another on the progress they had made one tree at a time one yard at a time.
Their efforts had produced several piles of logs. The next task was to sort them into those suitable for fence posts, those that could be sawn into timber suitable for building and the bits and pieces to be used as firewood.
Some time in the future, they would construct a saw pit for the rip saw and some saw horses which would make using the cross cut saw easier.
They calculated that all the clearing would be complete in about two weeks. Then they could spend some time cutting the logs into shorter lengths and stacking them according to use. The fence would have to wait until they had the crop in.
June 14th, the month was half gone. One more week and William could start sowing the wheat. It was a crisp morning with a blue-sky day to follow. They breakfasted on boiled oats and sweet tea. Full of optimism that such weather brings, they worked steadily cutting and splitting fence posts and rails. Around noon they ceased working and returned to the hut for a lunch of hard cheese and cold fire baked bread that they had prepared at breakfast. William’s dog had caught their mood and was in good spirits as he gobbled up the hard crusts that they threw for him to catch. Still enthusiastic they returned to the relatively easy task of sawing fence posts.
About four in the afternoon they were startled by the dog yelping once loudly and then continuing to whimper. In the distance they could see a tall Aboriginal man standing not far from the dog which had a long spear protruding from its head. The Aboriginal waved his hand and they instantly realised that a large group of Aboriginal men were standing on a rise at the far end of the field.
The boys were unarmed, their guns back on the stump near the hut.
There was no chance of reaching them.
The large group were moving rapidly to cut them off from the fallen tree bridge. There was nothing else to do but run for it.
William slowly dropped behind hampered by his heavy work boots, whereas, John’s kangaroo skin moccasins actually assisted him.
John reached the bridge first and managed to negotiate it quickly without falling onto the river bed below. He turned to look back.
William’s boots caused him to slip and he was forced to half jump, half fall, landing on his feet but off balance.
It was all the time the blacks needed. About eight or ten spears were launched. One stuck in the bark of a tree close to John. Several stuck harmlessly in the soft ground of the river bed.
John shouted encouragement to William. He could hear the Aborigines shouting what sounded like agan, agan. He watched horrified as the man who had speared the dog ran through to the front of the group and launched a long spear. It sailed forever in a great arc and struck William between the shoulder blades the point protruding obscenely from his breast. It brought William to his knees.
John heard himself screaming no, no!!! But no one seemed to hear above the shouting and screaming of the blacks.
William looked up at John and mouthed the word run but no sound came out.
They were on him now and he turned to face his attackers.
The dog killer launched another spear from close range and it struck William in the arm. Still not satisfied he stood over William and thrust several more spears into his body and one into his head.
He then turned and looked straight at John but made no movement. The blacks fell silent, nothing moved. For several seconds their eyes locked. The boy and the man. He was tall and strongly built. Muscular about the shoulders and arms. His hair and beard were curly-black and tangled. He tilted his head back arrogantly, never taking his eyes off John. See what I have done. It was as though he was challenging John to resist. In the years to come those eyes would haunt him. Merciless, deliberate, defiant.
There was nothing John could do, he turned and ran for the barracks.
After what seemed like an eternity the hut and stable that served as the Kelmscott outpost for the military came into view. John stopped to catch his breath and yelled, as loud as he could, given his exhausted state.
Help is anyone there, I need help. He stood bent over with his hands on his knees and vomited violently.
A stable hand poked his head out of the stable and seeing John obviously in a bad way called into the hut and then came hurrying in John’s direction.
What’s the trouble man, are you sick.
Yes sir, I am sick but that’s not the trouble. William Gaze and I were attacked by blacks and William is speared. John blurted it out and then vomited again and dropped to his hands and knees?
At that point three troopers arrived. What is the problem here?
William and this man were attacked by a party of blacks. William has been speared, the man repeated to the soldier in charge.
Where and when did this take place? He directed the question at John.
John had assumed a sitting position and looked up at the soldier. Not fifteen minutes ago back at the fallen tree bridge.
The soldier’s military training took over, go and get two loaded guns quickly, he ordered.
Yes Captain. One of the soldiers ran off towards the hut.
Let’s get this man over to the hut and get him a drink. The other trooper and the Captain lifted John onto his feet and assisted him towards the hut. If I remember correctly your name is John? John nodded.
The trooper with the guns appeared at the door.
The Captain directed them to keep a watch in case any blacks had followed John.
John, spoke to the Captain. With respect sir, William is badly hurt, we need to get help for him as soon as possible.
I understand that and your desire to help your friend but it is no good me allowing anyone to go charging off back to the bridge. We could end up with more casualties. The Captain was all business.
How many of them were involved in the attack? Did they attempt to follow you? And, did you recognize any of them?
John answered the Captain’s questions as best he could and described the tall well-built native that had speared William? He also recalled them calling out “agan” several times.
That, the Captain informed him, is Yagan, and yes he is the leader of the group. He is a damned pest. We know he has been involved in several incidents in these parts, he paused, intimidating settlers and at least one death at Point Walter.
I am certain they were intent on killing us because he, the one you say was Yagan, continued to attack William when he was on the ground.
We can talk more about the attack later on. Right now, we need to go and see if we can be of any help to William.
The Captain turned to the soldiers and issued them instructions regarding guns, powder and shot. Then to John, can you load and fire a gun?
Yes sir, I can.
He turned to the non-uniformed man. Mr Snelling, get John a gun and some powder and shot, and arm yourself.
Mr Donovan, when we are gone load several guns, bar the door and position yourself at that window and mind you keep a good watch.
A minute or so later the Captain, one of the soldiers, Mr Snelling and John set off along the track which lead to the bridge. The sun had dropped below the tops of the trees and was creating long moving shadows and shafts of light. John realized how easily the Aboriginal warriors could be camouflaged in amongst the trees and how they could be visible one second and gone the next. It was quite cool out of the sunlight but his hands were sweaty. He wondered if he would be able to hold the gun steady on a human target if it was necessary. He had never killed a man. He wondered if he could. He wished he had his coat, he was shivering now, or was he shaking?
They were approaching the left-hand turn which veered off towards the log bridge.
Captain Ellis slowed the pace and signalled to be very quiet. He stopped and John drew abreast of him. He looked directly at John and raised his eye brows in a questioning manner. John pointed down to the left of the bridge into the bed of the creek. They moved forward slowly and silently. The Captain stopped again and raised the index finger of his right hand. They heard it, a groaning sound coming from the vicinity of a clump of reeds.
The Captain turned and though he was looking straight at John he meant it for each of them. This is not going to be pleasant. John nodded.
William was lying on his side unable to move because the spear that had entered his back had gone right through and was sticking out of his chest. It must have missed his heart and major blood vessels, otherwise he would have been dead. Dark patches of blood had leaked out of the wounds on his back and chest. Another spear had gone through his left arm just above the elbow and had penetrated some way into his chest cavity and punctured his lung so that when he breathed bright red blood bubbled out of his mouth which caused him to cough now and then. A third short spear had been thrust into his face entering through his left cheek and exiting just below his right ear. It had either injured his tongue or completely immobilized it, making it impossible for him to close his mouth properly and forcing him to twist his head to one side like a rag doll. There were several other wounds on his buttocks, thigh and right hand.
John bent over William, careful not to touch him or the obscene implements protruding from his body. Poor William, look what they have done to you.
William opened his eyes. No sound, no movement. His world had shrunk to what he could see above him, John’s face, the reeds, and what little he could hear.
We’ll get you out of here William. The eyes opened again momentarily.
Mercifully he was drifting in and out of consciousness.
John stood up and turned to three pairs of eyes fastened on him.
The Captain spoke, if we are going to get your friend out of here we need to cut those spears off short and we will have to construct a litter so we can carry him. What tools have you got at the hut?
There are carpenters-tools, axes, saws, hammers and two cross cut saws.
Will they be safe? The captain was concerned.
The Captain was again firing questions at him like a headmaster interrogating a naughty boy.
I believe they will sir. The smaller tools are in a large locked chest. The key is hidden near the hut. The cross cut saws are out in the field where we were working today. I doubt they will have found them and anyway they are too heavy. They tend to travel light when they are on the move.
Mr Snelling interrupted, beg your pardon sir, there are some sturdy planks stacked behind the stables, about six inches wide and ten or twelve feet long.
The captain was thinking, his eyes fastened on Snelling.
