Clementine leant over her father. “You fainted, Father. How do you feel now?”
“I need the doctor, Clemmie,” Ralph groaned before closing his eyes again.
Clementine straightened up and went as white as a sheet. “If my father says he needs a doctor, he must really be feeling awful,” she said quietly. “Can we send that stable lad to Clare to fetch Dr. Ashbourne?”
“The doctor could be anywhere,” Sybil said. “He visits people all over the countryside. He might even be on his way here.”
“And Michael was told to guard Mr. Hawker’s stallions and the homestead,” Abbey added.
“My father is more important than horses,” Clementine shrieked. “If the doctor is not here very soon, I’m going to find this Ernie fellow myself and get him to help my father.” She wasn’t sure she trusted his knowledge, but she was at the point of trying anything.
“You can’t go out there alone,” Sybil said. “Besides, you can’t take your buggy all over the property. The terrain is too rugged, and you certainly can’t go on foot.”
Clementine looked about to burst into tears.
“I’ll go,” Abbey volunteered. “I’m a good rider. I could go and be back in no time.”
“Will you, Abbey?” Clementine asked hopefully.
“No, she won’t,” Sybil snapped protectively. “It’s far too dangerous. Tom was speared, and so was one of the dogs. What if Abbey gets attacked, and she’s all alone?”
“What about the cook? Can he go?” Clementine suggested in desperation.
“Sabu can’t ride a horse,” Sybil answered. “He’s refused to learn because he doesn’t like them. They don’t like him, either. He’s been bitten three times and kicked at least once.”
“Then please let Abbey go,” Clementine pleaded. “My father needs help—and quickly. You can see how ill he is. I can’t lose him.”
“Ernie is in the paddock behind the shearing sheds, and that’s not far,” Abbey said. She was only guessing as to his location, but she needed Sybil to consent to her going. “And with all the men from here riding around, I’m sure the Aboriginal men are keeping well away.”
“She’s probably right,” Clementine said, willing to cling to any hope.
Sybil frowned. “Very well, but be careful, Abbey. You had better take a gun with you, just in case.”
“I wouldn’t know how to use one,” Abbey admitted. Her father had never kept one.
Sybil paled. “I can’t let you go out there without a gun,” she said.
“Can’t the stable boy show her how to use one?” Clementine asked.
“I suppose he could,” Sybil said, still unsure of what was best.
“I’ll go and see Michael and get him to saddle me a horse,” Abbey said, turning to leave.
“Wait, Abbey,” Sybil said. “Please be careful, and come straight back if you can’t find Ernie. Promise me. I don’t want you wandering all over the property. Apart from Aboriginal men with ill intentions, the bush-fire might come this way.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Abbey said. “I promise.” She looked at Clementine. “Will you check on Max for me?”
“Yes, of course,” Clementine said. “Be quick, Abbey, and thank you.”
Clementine’s wordsabout women looking out for each otherwent through Abbey’s mind. It felt good to be useful, and she wanted to do anything she could to help.
***
Jack, Elias, and Father Quinlan hadn’t had any luck in finding the Aboriginal men they sought. They’d been all over Bungaree before going to Anama, where they met up with Tom and one of his workers, Bill Bendon. With the help of two brown Kelpies, they were moving fifty Black Angus cattle from one paddock to another where there was more feed.
“Did you find your dog?” Tom asked.
“Yes, he came home with a broken spear tip sticking out of his leg. That’s why we’re out looking for those responsible.”
“I told you we should shoot first and ask questions later,” Tom snapped. He glanced at the priest’s displeased expression, but he didn’t shy away from what he had said.
“Something has to be done,” Jack agreed, but he didn’t intend to go as far as shooting those he thought responsible. “If we catch them, I’m taking them to Sergeant Brown in town. Perhaps a stint in the Redruth Jail will cure their antics. Elias got a glimpse of the man who threw a spear at you, so he can identify him, and we’ll also take anyone with him. If we don’t catch them, I’m going to ask Sergeant Brown to come out here with a few men and round them up. The sergeant might not be inclined to lock them up for spearing Max, but he will do so for what they did to you, Tom.”
“Is the dog still alive?” Tom asked. He supposed that Jack had been forced to shoot him.
“Yes, he’ll be fine if he doesn’t get an infection.”
“I’ll help you search for the men who did it,” Tom said. He told Bill to keep watch over the cattle.
“What about your homestead?” Jack asked. “Is Jimmy there?”
Tom had originally employed Jimmy Martin as a farmhand during shearing five years earlier, but he’d kept him on as a general handyman because he could turn his hand to just about anything. Over time, the two men had become firm friends. Jimmy was also a darn good cook, whereas Tom couldn’t boil water.
“Yes, he’s at my place,” Tom said. “So, I’m not too worried. Jimmy hates the tribal men because they steal our chickens and eggs. If they know what’s good for them, they won’t go near the house unless they want to be peppered with shot-gun pellets.”
“We’re going to check on William’s place,” Jack said. “I wish he had told us earlier that he’d been having trouble with the Aboriginal men. We could have called in Sergeant Brown, and the trouble would have been over by now. After what’s happened at Bungaree to you and Max, I’m quite worried about William and Martha.”
***
As the men rode in the direction of William’s house, they caught a whiff of smoke in the air. It was the one thing guaranteed to strike fear in the hearts of landowners.
“The smoke is coming from the direction of William’s station,” Tom said. “You don’t suppose?” He and Jack looked at each other in horror. They urged their horses into a full gallop to Parrallana Station.
Even before William and Martha’s house came into view, the men saw orange flames licking towards the sky, streaked with smoke.
“Oh, God, no,” Jack said, terrified that his brother and his wife might be trapped in their burning house.
The four men raced towards the house. It wasn’t until they got closer that they realised it was the blue gums near William’s house that were burning. William had built the house near the gum trees for shade, but now flames were devouring the branches and trunks, making the trees look like giant crackling torches.
William’s house reminded Jack of how his own home had once looked, in the early days of settling at Bungaree. But William’s original slab hut had been recently extended with the help of Kenny Finch. Kenny and William had built a room onto the shadiest side for the baby and a new kitchen for Martha on the back.
The men quickly dismounted amidst a chaotic scene. Gusts of searing winds were blowing luminous embers around them, and the embers were falling like rain in the dust and dry grass. It was obvious that the house was in real danger of catching fire. William and one of his employees, Don Simpson, were busy pulling water from his well and using it to douse the walls of the house so the embers couldn’t take hold. They couldn’t do it quickly enough, as the blistering wind soon dried their efforts.
Jack, Tom, and Elias rushed to help. William shouted for them to get blankets from the stables to smother any small fires springing to life around the house. Father Quinlan asked where Martha was.
“She’s inside,” William told him. He’d told her to keep out of the smoke for
the baby’s sake. “Can you take her to Bungaree? She may not want to go, but please persuade her. I don’t know what’s going to happen here, and I don’t want her in danger.”
“Aye,” Father Quinlan replied. It was obvious that it wasn’t safe at Parrallana.
While the men outside worked frantically, the priest hurried into the house. It was the first time he’d been into William’s home, so he was momentarily taken by surprise at how neat and tidy it was. The house was simply furnished, but Martha’s feminine touch was everywhere, from little ornaments to knitted cushion covers lovingly placed on chairs. There was a sewing box on the table and an unfinished baby garment nearby. Obviously, the fire had taken them by surprise.
Father Quinlan couldn’t see Martha, so he called out to her while checking the four rooms. He found her in the baby’s room. She was struggling to drag the crib out through the door.
“What are you doing, Mrs. Hawker?” Father Quinlan asked. He was alarmed at the way she was exerting herself in her present state.
“I’m trying to get this crib outside,” Martha said in a breathless voice shaky with emotion. One hand was resting protectively on her enormous belly. Her dark hair was lank with perspiration, and she was as pale as a bed-sheet. But it was her intensity that struck him.
“Why?” the priest asked, humbled that she was not thinking of her own life first, but of her unborn child’s.
Tears slid from her brown eyes as she looked down at the crib. “If the house burns, and we have no home, we’ll have nothing for the baby.”
Father Quinlan suddenly understood. The crib represented her future with her baby and all the hopes and idyllic dreams she’d had throughout her pregnancy. “Here, let me get it out,” he said, dragging the crib through the backdoor. It was made from wood and beautifully crafted, but it was very heavy. He knew it must have taken William months to build it in his spare time. The crib would be used for each new child that Martha would bear, and possibly even for future grandchildren. It was a treasured possession, and inside it she’d placed all the baby clothes that she must have spent endless hours making.
Martha followed Father Quinlan outside with the crib.
“Take it up by the clothesline, please,” she requested. She coughed, covering her mouth and nose in a futile effort to avoid breathing the smoke. “It should be safe there,” she gasped. The burning gum trees were mostly at the front and sides of the house, whereas the area near the clothesline was clear of vegetation and dry grass. Martha intended to guard the crib so that no embers or ash landed inside.
The priest pushed and dragged the crib towards the clothesline, thirty yards from the house. It took him a while, as the clothesline was uphill where the washing caught any gulley breezes. By the time he got there with the crib, Father Quinlan was exhausted. He took a few breaths before he realised that Martha had collapsed halfway between the clothesline and the house.
The priest rushed to her side. “Mrs. Hawker, are you all right?” he asked, noting she was clutching her belly.
“I think the baby is coming,” she cried.
“What? It isn’t time yet, is it?”
“Three weeks,” Martha groaned.
Father Quinlan knew that could mean the baby could come any time. “Oh, dear Lord,” he said. “Can you get up?” He tried to lift her, but her swollen belly made it challenging.
***
Jack and Tom had retrieved blankets from the stables to smother any embers that landed near the house. Elias went to see what he could do for William’s horses, the cow, and the chickens that were housed alongside the barn, about fifty yards from the house. The horses were frantically prancing in their yards, neighing, rearing, and throwing their heads around, but they were not in immediate danger. The same couldn’t be said for the chickens. The fence around their pen had caught fire after embers had landed in dry bushes that were growing up against it. While Jack and Tom beat at the flames, Elias opened the gate and set the panic-stricken chickens free before they burnt to death. If the dingoes didn’t get them, they’d return to their roost when it was safe.
The thick smoke turned day into an eerie twilight while the embers floated on the wind like miniature lanterns. Jack suspected William’s efforts with a bucket were going to be in vain if the roof of the house caught fire. He’d no sooner tried to warn William when the barn roof began to burn. There was nothing they could do about it. The only ladder William had wasn’t long enough to reach the high roof. There was such a ladder, and it had been used when building the barn, but it was at Bungaree now.
Elias turned his attention to the horses, roping them and leading them a safe distance away before tethering them. William and Don rushed to drag the buggy out of the barn. They didn’t have time to get the horse-feed out before it was engulfed in flames. Don also rescued the saddles and other tack from the tack room beside the stables, just in case they started to burn.
William was terribly distressed to see his barn burn, but he had no time to dwell on the fact. He roped the cow and led her out of her yard. Just then four neighbours rode up on their horses. They’d brought shovels and blankets with them. William had never been so glad to see them. They immediately started fighting spot fires in the grass, which could get out of hand and spread to their properties.
***
Father Quinlan had just helped Martha stand when they saw embers land on the shingle roof of the house. In moments, the flames took hold. Martha cried in anguish as the house she loved began to burn. She wanted to go back inside to retrieve clothes and things she treasured, but Father Quinlan stopped her.
***
“Get the ladder,” William yelled to Jack, as he rushed back to the well.
Jack hesitated, weighing the danger to William if he got on the roof and it collapsed.
“Get it,” William shouted. “I won’t stand by and let my home burn.”
Jack did as he asked. He knew he couldn’t talk his brother out of doing what he had to do. William climbed up the ladder with a bucket of water while Jack held the ladder steady. William threw the water, but the wind caught it, and it missed the flames.
Tom passed another bucket up. This time William climbed onto the roof and poured the water over the flames. Jack followed him up with blankets and threw them over other smouldering embers, smothering them. Tom retrieved another bucket of water from the well and climbed up with it, pouring it over the roof and blankets.
Miraculously, they managed to smother the fire quickly, saving the roof and the house. While only a small section of the shingles had been damaged, they were all aware that the danger hadn’t yet passed.
As the trees weren’t overhanging the house, it was only flying embers that represented a threat. As the embers continually rained onto the roof, Jack, Tom, and William smothered them, while William’s neighbours and Don took care of smaller fires in the dry grass around the house.
William suddenly noticed Martha and the priest at the back of the house.
“Are you all right?” he called to his wife from the roof.
As pain struck her abdomen, she doubled over, unable to answer him.
“No, she’s not,” Father Quinlan shouted back. “The baby’s coming.”
William almost fainted.
***
Michael Dobson lent Abbey his horse, a stocky quarter horse named Bobby. He also gave her a loaded rifle and showed her how to use it. She stored the rifle in a holster on the saddle, but prayed she wouldn’t need it.
Sybil was at the back gate and waved to Abbey as she galloped past, silently praying for her safety. She felt sick with worry. Jack would be furious if he knew she’d allowed Abbey to go out alone. But Clementine’s father looked extremely ill, and she was worried that his life was in danger.
Abbey raced towards the shearing sheds and the paddock behind it, but she couldn’t see any sheep or any signs of Ern
ie and Wilbur.
“Oh, hell,” she mumbled, scanning the distant countryside for them with one eye on nearby trees where Aboriginal men with spears could be hiding. She opened a gate and went through, galloping down slopes and up over hills, looking for the sheep and the stockmen. The further she went, the thicker the smoke became. She went through two more gates into large paddocks where there were a lot of sheep droppings, but no sheep. She pressed on, but couldn’t find any sign of the stockmen.
After twenty minutes of riding aimlessly, Abbey stopped and looked around her. Doubts were creeping into her mind. Had she done the right thing in coming out alone? She’d become disoriented and was unsure of which way she’d come. The trees and the hills all started to look the same, and she couldn’t see the house or any outbuildings. She was afraid to call out to Ernie or Wilbur in case anyone else who might be on the property overheard her.
Abbey decided it was time to try to retrace the route she’d come. She truly wanted to help Ralph, but she didn’t want to get lost and then worry Sybil by disappearing for hours. A short time later she found herself in a paddock where there were a lot of horses that she hadn’t seen before. Now she really started to worry, especially when just over the fence she could see cattle that she hadn’t seen before, either. She’d lost all sense of direction. She couldn’t even remember where the sun should have been in relation to the house. She decided to head for the highest point and hope she could see the house or at least a landmark that she recognised.
Up on the nearest hill, Abbey scanned the landscape through the drifting smoke. She noticed that the smoke was thickest to the west, but she couldn’t see the Bungaree homestead.
As Abbey sat on the horse, wondering what to do and trying not to panic, she saw a cantering horse in the gulley below her. The sight confused her. The horse was wearing a saddle, but it was riderless.
“Let’s see what you can do, Bobby,” she said to the quarter horse, pressing her heels into his flanks. Bobby shot off down the hill at speed, and Abbey soon intercepted the riderless horse, taking hold of the reins and bringing it to a halt. She thought she recognised the star-shaped blaze on its head. If she was right, it was Ernie’s horse.
Shadows in the Valley Page 31