Barefoot and Lost

by Brian Francis Cox

  May and I are left to do the separating and the dairy cleaning. We have saddled Spike and Lucy and left them tethered while we grab a quick breakfast. As we are going into the kitchen Owen, Stan, and Bill are coming out, ‘Phil, May, are you two okay? You know what you have to do, there is no rush, and we have enough to keep us going till lunch.’

  ‘Yes Owen, the Church paddock, two, hundred, and thirty.’

  ‘What route are you taking?’ May answers.

  ‘We take them through the cyclone gate onto the highway then all the way through Whites keeping to the track.’

  “That’s right and if there is any of those ewes on the track; there shouldn’t be, because the wind is from the west, but if there is May, you hold your lot on the highway. Phil, you take Joker and drive them away, I don’t want them being mixed, it is most important, okay?’

  ‘Okay Owen, don’t worry, we will be alright.’

  ‘Remember they are hogget’s so are not used to being driven, let them make their own progress, let the dogs do the work. Just because you can crack those whips don’t do it too often, it will only scare them, and they will be all over the place. One of you should ride at the rear, the other on the flank and it will be a piece of cake.’

  ‘Okay Stan, no worries, we’ll see you before lunch.’

  ‘Oh yeah, and when you’re on the highway keep them away from the fence, those little buggers can wriggle through as quick as a flash.’

  I counted two hundred and thirty two through the cyclone gate onto the highway; at the yard it was exactly right. Gloria has brought a lunch of cold meat and salad, spread out on the back of the Dodge, which she has parked under the huge Red Gum, which was probably planted when the woolshed was built in eighteen forty three.

  ‘Right kids, you did well this morning, soon as you have finished your lunch take this lot back to Grants, then muster Chapels and put them in the pens overnight for us to start first thing.’

  ‘How many are there?’ Owen walks to his Ute, takes a note book from the glove box and thumbs through it,

  ‘There were four hundred and twenty seven at shearing.’

  It is four thirty, Friday afternoon, May and I are taking back the five hundred and thirty seven we mustered yesterday. Both of us are saddle sore and the dogs are looking for a rest. Defor has kept up with Taffy, his limp has almost gone, but the most noticeable thing is that he is no longer copying Taffy but is doing his own thing. Even Joker seems to have accepted him, perhaps those kennel chats each evening worked after all.

  Hope is coming tomorrow to take May back to Ballarat for school. She doesn’t want to go; she is in her element here at Gadoona, like me. Wearing trousers and an old jumper she behaves like a boy, I take no notice; she is just a mate to me. We get on so well and have become very good friends, not like Rachel but more like Michael Samuels. Gloria accepts her as she is, for that May loves her auntie. We have worked so hard this week; Owen surprised us both this morning by giving us six pounds each for our work. I can’t wait until the summer holidays when May will be back for six weeks.

  The mornings are very cold now that it is June. At six those cows are waiting without fail. My hands get so cold I have difficulty moving my fingers. To keep warm I put my face hard against the cow’s stomach, it sounds like a volcano rumbling, but it is warm. Even the drive to the bus has lost its charm. The windows on the Dodge do not close properly, the wind whistles in through them freezing my ears. It also finds its way though the holes where the pedals go through the floor, freezing my feet. I am always pleased when I get to the warmth of the bus. There are only five of us that get on at Strathdownie, three girls and a boy about fifteen years old. I have tried to make friends, they are pleasant, but that is about it. There is some talk that the bus will not run as far as Strathdownie after the summer holidays, because I will be the only one, so I am not sure what will happen. I couldn’t drive to the next pick up point because it would mean me driving through Strathdownie. I’m sure Constable Connelly could not turn a blind eye to a fourteen year old driver, even if I wear my hat back to front. Gloria says we will work something out, just wait, and see.

  Six weeks ago I got a letter from the Immigration Department to say that they had located both Rachel and Billy and that they had passed on my details and that I was trying to make contact; suggesting that, if they wanted to contact me, they could write to the enclosed address.

  The day before yesterday I received a note from Billy, to say that he was in a home in Adelaide. It was okay not as good as Parkside, but it was only for a year and then he was off. He didn’t say where to, just that he was going. He asked what I was doing and signed it, Billy. I was disappointed, I have looked forward so long to make contact with him, and he replies with a note I could have written in a few minutes. I shouldn’t grumble because it is, honestly, the first time I have understood everything that Billy has said, I just wish that he had put more detail. Everyday, when I check the mailbox at the post office before I drive home, I am disappointed, there is still no word from Rachel, and she is the only one I really want to hear from.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  I never realized that it could be so cold and wet in Australia. It has rained continuously for the past five days. Owen says the annual rainfall at Gadoona is forty inches; I think we have had the whole lot all at once. Stan has been out the last few days, checking the ewes to see if any of them have given birth early. The lambs are not due for about three weeks but, if any are born now, without attention, the lamb or the ewe could die. Stan usually returns from his round just as I am finishing in the dairy. Each time, as he passes he sticks his head around the door and says, ‘Good on yer mate, dry feet, you bloody beaut.’

  We broke up from school yesterday and do not return until the third of August, if it stays wet there will be little to do outside. On dry days I will probably ride out with Stan. On wet days, apart from doing the milking it will be spent in the blacksmiths shop drilling holes in droppers, ready for fencing repairs in the spring. It is my birthday next Thursday, I can’t believe I will be fourteen, I’m not sure if anything is planned. I have come upon a few conversations which suddenly stop when I come into earshot. I don’t want to spoil any surprises so haven’t asked any questions. Gloria and Owen are wonderful, I am so lucky to have found them, or did they find me, could it be true that I was guided here? If I was I may just start to believe in God again.

  The rain has eased off, it was pouring when I walked back from milking, and I got drenched. I was so wet I had to change into dry clothes. So far I have drilled five holes in each of the thirty droppers completed this morning that is enough for almost half a mile of fence. That is a lot of holes to drill but it is made easy, we have a pedestal drill, with a flywheel that is attached to another flywheel, on the small Howard tractor. This is turning the ten inch long bit. Using a jig that Owen made, I can drill four droppers at a time, all I have to do is put four droppers in the jig, close the metal flap which has five holes in, and guide the bit through each hole, while pulling the lever on the drill that lowers the bit.

  I still don’t have that watch I promised myself, but my stomach tells me it must be nearly lunch time. Glancing out of the window to see if Owen is calling me, I see Hope’s Chevrolet in the yard. I wonder what she wants. Owen puts his head around the door,

  ‘How many have you done Phil?’

  ‘Thirty so far Owen.’

  ‘That will do, you had better get inside and get cleaned up, your skinny Sheila mate is here to see you.’

  ‘May; why is she here, she said she wouldn’t be back until summer?’

  ‘You had better ask her yourself, I haven’t got a clue nobody ever tells me anything.’

  ‘I didn’t want to come, didn’t want to see your ugly mug, but when I thought about auntie Gloria’s cooking I had no choice I had to come.’

  ‘Very funny, how long are you here for?’

  ‘Until Saturday, bloody beaut don’t you reckon; Mum and Dad ha
ve to go to Adelaide for some business?’

  ‘Then you will be here for my birthday.’

  ‘Looks like it, aren’t you the lucky one?’

  ‘No, you are because I’m going to teach you how to milk, then I can lie in bed while you help your uncle Owen.’

  ‘Yeah right, when do I start?’ Hope and Claude stayed for lunch then made their way to Adelaide. May and I have settled on a bale of hay in the stables, chatting about everything and nothing. ‘There you are, skiving, I’m sure there is something you can find to do?’

  ‘Sorry Uncle Owen it was too wet outside to do anything.’

  ‘Well here’s something you can do and chat at the same time, the tack room needs sorting and the tack cleaned, so that can be your job for the next couple of days. Leave Stan’s saddle, he prefers to do it himself.’ Stan has come into the tack room and shows us how to rub the dubbing into the leather with a circular motion then buffing it to make it gleam, it has become a competition, and like everything May does she has to be the best.

  After lunch May and I are washing up, Gloria is putting the things away, ‘Phillip, I want you to go to Strath’ this afternoon and collect the mail, I am expecting a special letter which I need before Mr. O’Malley delivers on Friday. Take May with you; do not go into town, park where you usually do for the bus. Also Mrs. Gallagher has a list of things I need, I telephoned her this morning so wait, don’t come back without them.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  ‘No Phillip, I don’t want you to be quick I want you to be careful, remember you have May with you so no showing off, take it steady and take no risks.’

  ‘Okay, I understand.’

  ‘Hello Mrs. Gallagher, have you got Gloria’s things she ordered?’

  ‘G’day Phillip, how yer going May; seems you’re spending more time at Gadoona than Ballarat, they will soon have to put you on the payroll.’

  ‘Good thanks, yes, Uncle Owen is very good, if I work with Phil he pays me the same, it’s nice to have my own money.’

  ‘We haven’t got everything Phil, there is still one item. I have rung Gloria, she is checking to see if she can do without, or use an alternative. I’m waiting for her to ring back; would you both like a drink while we are waiting?’

  ‘Yes please can I have a banana milkshake?’

  ‘I’m sure we can manage that; what about you May?’

  ‘Can I have chocolate please?’ Half an hour has passed and at last the phone rings,

  ‘Yes Gloria that’s fine, pleased I could help, yes I’ll send them on their way.’

  ‘Sorry Phillip to keep you waiting Gloria says she will manage without.’

  ‘Manage without what?’

  ‘What we didn’t have, that is what.’

  ‘I see that is as clear as mud, but I won’t ask it is probably a secret.’

  ‘Yes probably, on your way you two, drive carefully.’

  ‘Bye Mrs. Gallagher.’

  ‘Phillip, don’t forget to take your parcels, can’t have you going back with nothing.’

  ‘Sorry, bye.’

  ‘May, that was strange, today’s trip has been a waste of time, first we went to get a letter that hadn’t arrived, then we go to the shop for something they haven’t got, then------’ May screams, ‘Phil look out.’

  Coming straight at us is a truck; I swerve to the left bouncing off the road wrestling, the steering wheel to avoid a tree. The truck thunders past with its horn blaring, my violent movement of the wheel has made the Dodge’s back end fishtail, eventually we come to a halt with the front end of the Dodge in the drain ditch with water half way up the wheels. The engine has stalled, my heart is beating as though it is about to burst out of my chest.

  ‘Are you alright Phil, you did brilliant, how you missed him I do not know?’

  ‘He was on my side of the road, what the hell was he doing, did you see who it was?’

  ‘No, only that it was a horse box, like the ones I see at Ballarat races when I go with Mum’

  ‘I wonder why he was in such a hurry and on the wrong side.’ My heart beat is slowing, I can feel that I’m trembling slightly; ‘Yeah, I’m okay, hope this old bomb starts okay.’ Six turns on the starter, just as I think she won’t, the engine bursts into life. Fortunately the rear wheels are on dry ground, with a bit of wheel spin I manage to reverse it out onto the road.

  ‘Do you think we should tell Uncle Owen about it?’ Thinking for a moment,

  ‘No, I want to keep driving myself to school, if Owen thinks I could have an accident he may stop me; no, let us keep it to ourselves.’

  ‘Yeah okay, I think that’s a good idea, because you were so busy talking to me you weren’t paying attention and you were in the middle of the road.’

  ‘Was I are you sure?’

  ‘Phil, you know you were, lets just keep it our secret.’

  ‘Thanks May, you’re a good sort, and if you weren’t so bloody ugly I’d kiss you.’

  ‘Thanks but no thanks, God it makes me shudder thinking about it, it would be like being kissed by a horse.’

  ‘Wouldn’t know, never been kissed by one,’ we both burst out laughing.

  Just like Christmas cows have no respect for special days, birthday or not the cows still have to be milked. May is not much help; in fact she gets in the way when we are milking but she makes up for it in the dairy. Owen never mentioned my birthday, I bet he has forgotten. At least May gave me a peck on the cheek and said happy birthday, it seemed strange her doing that, still it was okay and not like a horse at all.

  At the breakfast table beside my plate are some cards, Gloria gives me a big hug and a kiss, ‘Happy birthday Phillip’ Owen shakes my hand,

  ‘Happy birthday Son.’

  ‘Thanks everyone I thought you had all forgotten.’

  ‘How could we do that when we have been reminded at least a dozen times over the last two weeks; Stan will be here in a moment, we will wait for him before we start breakfast, you may as well open your cards while you are waiting. There is one from Jack, another from Bill Hamball, the Gallagher’s from the store have sent one, May hands me two, one from her and one from her mum and dad then Gloria gives me another kiss and hands me a card, I’m in the process of thanking everybody when Stan comes in with yet another card, ‘Happy birthday Phil.’

  ‘Everything okay Stan?’

  ‘Yeah Boss sweet as a nut.’ Breakfast is very leisurely; nobody is in a rush to go to work.

  I was expecting to get at least one present but nothing has been mentioned. Owen, looking thoughtful, says,

  ‘What on earth are we going to do with you two today?’

  ‘We have finished the tack room.’

  ‘Yes and a damn good job you made of it; I think I’ll get you counting stock in Kelly’s paddock, you can muster them into the yard up there. Phil will you go out to my Ute and get my tally book from the glove box?’

  Passing the dairy, I hear a horse whinny, turning my head in the direction of the sound, I can see, tethered to the hitching rail, a beautiful chestnut horse, tossing its head and pawing the ground with its front right hoof. Owen’s tally book doesn’t seem important now; this horse has to be calmed. I wonder where the owner is; perhaps they are a friend of Stan and are waiting for him in his hut? The horse swings around when it sees me coming, reaching out I take hold of the bridle and he nuzzles me, then I notice, around his neck is a yellow ribbon with a card attached, written in large black print is, ‘Happy Birthday Phillip, with love from Gloria and Owen.’ I cannot believe my eyes, turning around; I can see everyone is standing in the yard. When they see I have noticed them, they all start to clap and sing happy birthday, and I burst into tears.

  ‘Is he really mine?’

  ‘Yes, he’s from us, the saddle is from Jack, the bridle is from Stan------’

  ‘And the stockman coat is from mum, dad and me.’

  ‘Fantastic, I’m going to call him Haitch, for horse.’

&nbs
p; ‘Phil, that is a horrible name, he is beautiful, he deserves better.’

  ‘I agree May, his stable name is Hero, call him Haitch as a nickname, not Haitch for horse, but Haitch for Hero.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, he does deserve better, I will call him Hero.’

  Phil, be careful with him he is a lot more lively than Spike, he’s a good stock horse, and knows what to do you will learn from him. May, get Spike saddled up the pair of you get out to Kelly’s paddock and do some counting.’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand May.’

  ‘Thank you Stan.’

  ‘Phil, while I’m helping May I suggest you ride Hero around the yard to familiarize yourself, like, get to know each other.’

  ‘Six hundred and eighty four, we should have six hundred and eighty three, so it’s right, plus that big one that missed shearing and crutching. I wonder how he managed to do that.’

  ‘He may not be one of ours, maybe one of Bill’s? He could have come from the forest.’

  ‘How would he have got through the fence?’

  ‘Maybe there’s a break somewhere, we had better check, it’s a bit longer home through the back paddock, but I don’t mind, it will give me more time to ride Hero. Help me catch that woolly bugger, so we can put him in the yard with the grass growing at the back, then Stan can come out tomorrow and crutch and wig him.’

  ‘What about water for him?’

  ‘He’s a Merino, he’ll be right for a couple of days; Merino’s don’t need a lot of water.’

  Leaving the yard gate wide open, with woolly locked in the back pen; we mount up call the dogs and start our boundary check.