Return to the High Country

by Tony Parsons

  ‘You asked me once whether I felt anything for you, Sarah. I think you’re a terrific young woman and I have a lot of time for you – you know that. But I’m a very happily married man and even if I weren’t, I’d be too old for you. You’re only the same age as Moira. You should have a nice young man, Sarah,’ he said.

  She sat down on the hospital chair and looked at him. ‘Is that what you really think?’

  ‘Why would I lie to you, Sarah?’

  ‘Yes, why would you, Mr Mac?’ she asked. ‘To stop me thinking about you?’

  ‘You should stop thinking about me, Sarah. It will only make you unhappy.’

  There was a pause before he spoke again. ‘I believe you’re back home with Emily,’ he said. He reckoned he needed to change the subject.

  ‘We’re in the money again, Mr Mac. Tristar has won us a fortune so Mum asked me to come home and help her. You should be pleased because Dougal gets a third of her winnings,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Oh, yes, I am pleased for him,’ he said. Dougal had come to see him and told him what he had won so far. It was so far in excess of what his veterinary fees would have been as to be positively indecent. He couldn’t say that Dougal gloated but he had a dig about all the years that had been wasted because he, David, hadn’t had Starana treated instead of letting her go to Emily Matheson.

  ‘Where to from here?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘I have a lot of physiotherapy ahead of me. When I am finished with that Cat says that we are to have a long overseas holiday. There are things in her father’s diary that she wants to check on … where he died and the man who found him. Then there is Iona,’ he told her.

  ‘Who or what is Iona?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know a lot about it. Not as much as Cat does. It’s a small island off the west coast of Scotland next to a larger island called Mull. Cat tells me it has been the burial place of Scottish kings. It is the holiest place in Scotland because one of the saints went there in the sixth century and began a monastery. Cat says it’s the cradle of Celtic Christianity. Missionaries were trained there and took Christianity throughout the British Isles and to Europe. Angus Campbell had wanted to go there all his life. According to what he wrote in his diary, he had some kind of vision of something there. If that sounds incredible, I should point out that Angus wasn’t the kind of man who made things up. We didn’t get to Iona on our last trip and Cat very much wants to go there,’ he said.

  ‘How wonderful,’ she breathed and for a brief moment tried to imagine what it would be like to take a trip like that with David. It was mind-blowing.

  ‘Yes, it could be very interesting. I would also like to meet the man who sold Angus his last border collie. She’s a bitch called Meg, and I think she’s just about the best border collie bitch I’ve ever seen. She isn’t a typical border collie at all. According to the pedigree that Stuart received, she wasn’t bred by the man who sold her to Angus but came from a fair way north of him. I’m wondering if she was related, even remotely, to the original collies that came from the Rutherfords,’ he said.

  ‘Goodness, it will be an interesting trip,’ Sarah said, envious.

  ‘Oh, Cat has a lot more planned than that. It’s hush hush, but Cat is working on a novel based on the MacLeod family. You’re the first person I’ve let into her secret so keep mum about it. What it means is that we’re going to be visiting Dunvegan Castle and a lot of other MacLeod landmarks so Cat can absorb the atmosphere,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll be very proud of Catriona if she gets her novel published,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Mum handed over her diary to Cat so a lot of MacLeod stuff is in that. Cat had a good education and has an Arts degree and she writes very well, which is more than I can say for myself. I suppose a novel is another matter, but I’m all in favour of her having a bash at it. Living in the bush and with a bushie like me can’t have been the most exciting life a woman could have had,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sure Catriona has never regretted marrying you, David,’ she said. The name sounded easier on her tongue each time she spoke it. Life couldn’t offer anything more beautiful than for her to take Catriona’s place.

  ‘So she has told me,’ he said dryly. ‘Cat wants to have me wholly and solely on this trip which is why she insists it will be only the two of us. There’ll be no phones going at all hours, no ram and bull clients and no dog people intruding into our lives. Her words, not mine, Sarah.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ she said as she stood up. ‘You need to sleep, David. It’s been wonderful to see you again. Mum won’t tell Catriona that I came to see you,’ she said.

  He sighed and settled back in the hospital bed which was not long enough to accommodate him adequately. He wondered if he should tell Cat that Sarah had been to see him. Either way, he couldn’t win. If he didn’t tell her and she found out, she would say that he was keeping things from her; if he told her, he probably wouldn’t score any points for honesty.

  There were many others who came to see David, but Catriona and Moira came most frequently. Moira had been shaken by the fracas but she told her father that she had no regrets for what she had done.

  ‘For what it’s worth, you have my thanks and gratitude, Moy. I don’t want to depart this life just yet and if that mongrel had hit me with a second shot that might have happened. I’m very sorry you had to be involved like that, but you acted with commendable speed and I’m proud of you. When someone opts to shoot at you, they deserve what they get. If he hadn’t been stealing our cattle, he wouldn’t have got himself shot. Years ago in the old Wild West they used to hang stock thieves when they caught them,’ he told her.

  ‘I’d do it again too, Dad,’ Moira said fiercely. ‘I’m not sorry for shooting him. He was trying to shoot you and he got what he deserved.’

  He really was very proud of her. Not just because she had shot a man to save her father but because his daughter was such a damned great woman. She was running Glen Morrison like an old hand and was never averse to chipping in to help them when there were other jobs to be done. A fellow had no right to expect a daughter to do what Moira was doing. He hadn’t expected that she would still be with him, assuming that by now she’d be married and elsewhere. That she was still with him was a colossal bonus.

  There weren’t many people who had earned high praise from David MacLeod. Moira glowed. Was there ever such a father? She had clashed with him only once and that was over Gary Trainor. Her father had been right and she had been wrong. He had stopped her from making a fool of herself – and worse – for which she was very thankful. Gary Trainor hadn’t been worth her father’s little finger. She could see that now. But she wasn’t the first woman to make an error of judgement where a handsome man was concerned.

  Moira was initially charged with manslaughter but the charge was later withdrawn. David brought in one of the best QCs in the country to defend her from the outset. When it was all over he persuaded Manny Thompson’s wife, Cheryl, to take Moira to the US for a look at the country. Manny kidded that it suited him fine because he wanted to go barramundi fishing in the Kimberley, and Cheryl hated fishing.

  David had to make a few changes in management so he brought Tim Barden down to Glen Morrison to look after the stud sheep and cattle in Moira’s absence. On her return Tim would live at Poitrel. Tim’s brother, Bobbie, who was every bit as keen on the bush and animals as Tim and who had been helping Greg Robertson, was now employed to look after the New England property. With all her children grown up and working at different localities, Linda Barden was now on her own in the big house at Molonga. After discussing the matter with his mother, David proposed that Linda be offered the job of looking after his mother. She would have the cottage Greg Robertson and Sarah had lived in. She would also have the job of looking after David’s dogs, because he could see that Catriona was serious about he and her taking a holiday overseas. Linda would be close to Tim and she could see him quite often. Linda agreed to this offer because she was at a loose
end and was the kind of woman who hated inactivity. She had a big soft spot for David MacLeod and not just because he had employed two of her sons – he had given her a rent-free home for years and couldn’t have treated her better. David MacLeod was the best man Linda had ever known. Looking after his mother was going to be a pleasure. Indeed, just being part of the MacLeod ‘empire’ was a pleasure.

  David had months of physiotherapy after his shoulder healed though it was never quite the same for the rest of his life. News of his shooting had spread far and wide and there was hardly a day that did not see at least one visitor call on him. One of the first to High Peaks was Bruce McClymont, who came all the way from the Riverina to see him. Although he was an old man now and white-haired, he was still a sheepdog man through and through as he would be while he could stand up.

  With his beloved Mona in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s disease, Bruce was now looked after by his daughter, Marilyn, who was divorced. Her son, Ian, had thrown up his job in Melbourne to come back to the property and was, according to Bruce, ‘dog-mad’ and keen on station life generally. ‘He’ll be the one to carry on with the dogs, David,’ Bruce said with great pride.

  ‘That’s wonderful, Bruce. It would be a blow if all your efforts to build a top kelpie stud went down the drain,’ David said.

  ‘It’s a great relief, but the whole rural scene is a worry. As if costs and bad seasons weren’t bad enough, we’ve now got the worry of the Family Court. There’s places that are having to be sold because of marriage settlements through the Family Court. I know of properties that have been in the same family for generations and they’ve gone down the gurgler. Divorce used to be too damned hard but it’s too easy now,’ Bruce said.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, Bruce. I was only saying to Mum that except for the fact that I love the life, it would make good economic sense for me to sell everything and invest the money. I’d have over twelve million dollars in assets. But selling up would put several people out of work and leave me at a loose end. I mean, what would I do?’

  ‘Handle kelpies and win a lot of trials,’ Bruce suggested.

  ‘Maybe I could. Then there’s the fact that High Peaks is rather special to me. Dad is buried there and Mum will be one day. Kate is there beside Dad and my grandmother is there too. When my time comes I want to lay my head to rest at High Peaks. It wouldn’t seem right to have the property in anyone else’s hands. Then there’s Angus and Moira who are stockpersons through and through. Dad spent his life working to make things better for me – to give it all up now just doesn’t seem right. We’re doing something really worthwhile but we’re not making much money out of it. Where would all our towns be if we all gave up? There’s enough of them in decline as it is.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there, David,’ chipped in Bruce.

  ‘I reckon I’ll keep going for a few more years and then assess the situation. It could be the wrong way to go as property values may decline if things get worse. It could be that one day we’ll sell everything and just keep High Peaks. I’ll sit out here where we are today and swap yarns about the days when things were better,’ David said.

  ‘Well I want you to know that knowing you has made a big difference to my life, David,’ McClymont said earnestly. ‘I would have liked to know your father better because from what I could tell he was a real man. His word was his bond and he was a great dog and horse handler. It was a damned shame he died at such a young age. And getting Nap on loan put me years ahead with the dogs. The best dogs I’ve got go back to him. What a dog he was, David.’

  ‘Yes, Nap had an extra dimension to him, Bruce. Clancy was the better trial dog because he was a freak on three sheep but Nap thought like a human. He was the most complete dog of all the dogs we’ve had here. I’ve always regretted sending him away but if anyone had to have him, I’m very glad it was you, Bruce. You did the right thing by me and by Nap and I’ll never forget that, Bruce. You brought Nap back three years to the day and you know me well enough to understand that keeping one’s word rates very highly with me,’ David said with evident feeling.

  ‘That’s the way I was brought up, David. The old man was a bit of an autocrat like Angus Campbell but he was straight as a pine tree. Only way to live, he told me,’ McClymont said.

  ‘Dad was just the same,’ David agreed. ‘Some people said he was too hard and tough but he helped a lot of people in one way or another. He’d crutch or shear sheep for people he knew and wait months to get paid for it. He always knew he would eventually be paid. Dad had no time for slackers and welshers and it was these people who said he was hard. If the local minister told him that someone in town was having a bad time he’d send in a side of mutton or some beef to help them out. Not many people knew that side of Dad. Sure, he was a tough man but he was a very fair man. His father was a playboy of sorts and Dad had to make up for his deficiencies. I’ve never forgotten him for one day, Bruce.’

  ‘Life is too damned short, David. Oh well, I have had a pretty full, happy life. If you get a good wife, that’s the big thing. Mona was just right for me. I’ve bred a few decent kelpies and they led me to you. That day Clancy won the National was, next to my wedding, the greatest day of my life,’ Bruce said with emotion.

  ‘It was great for Dad, Bruce. I was so damned pleased I could give him that. Dad won a lot of trials but I reckon that Clancy’s win topped anything he had done. It put the MacLeod name up in lights and that’s what I wanted for him. Dad would be tickled pink at me owning all these properties as he had the old Highland love of land in him. Dad liked land and sheep. If he was alive now nothing would give him greater pleasure than to walk through the ram shed at Glen Morrison so he could inspect the wool on those rams. When I was very small he used to point to certain of our sheep and tell me that it would shear well or not so well. It’s good to remember those things now,’ David said.

  ‘Bruce, I’ll wager that you two are talking sheepdogs,’ Catriona said as she appeared on the front verandah with a tray of smoko. ‘And I’ll also wager that I haven’t had a mention.’

  ‘Now, now, Catriona, that isn’t fair. David doesn’t have to mention you for me to know how he feels about you,’ Bruce said with a smile. ‘We could be discussing worse things than sheepdogs. You wouldn’t like us to be discussing women, would you?’

  ‘I don’t know about your women, Bruce, but I know of several who wanted David. A couple would still have him, bung shoulder and all,’ Catriona said, as she rested one hand on her husband’s sound shoulder.

  ‘I’ll bet he’s never given them two glances,’ Bruce said. ‘The way I heard it, he wouldn’t even look at you for a long time so David could hardly be described as a ladies’ man.’

  ‘It’s true – I’d almost given up on him. When his shoulder is right again I’m going to take him away, Bruce. David can look at some sheepdogs in Scotland. Moira and Angus can steer the ship here for a few months,’ Catriona said, as she sat down beside her husband.

  Bruce McClymont regarded her with affection and admiration. Catriona was still a great-looking woman and she was a woman still unashamedly in love with her husband. ‘My forebears came from over there but I’ve never been there,’ he said. ‘Mona and I talked about taking a trip one day but it’s always been hard to leave the place and the dogs. Ian used to come back for some of his holidays but it wasn’t long enough for us to get away. Don’t reckon I’ll go now. Be a bit much for me. If I go anywhere it will be into hospital to get my hip fixed up. Now that Ian’s with me I can manage that,’ Bruce said. ‘I don’t reckon I’ll get up here again, David. The drive is too much for me now. I have to keep stopping or I fall asleep.’

  ‘I think it’s about time we paid you a visit, Bruce. I’ll make it a top priority as soon as we get back from overseas,’ David said.

  ‘That would be great, David, but don’t leave it too long. I get awfully tired these days. I don’t reckon I’ll handle many more young dogs. Have to teach the young fellow to do that before I
shuffle off,’ McClymont said.

  ‘Life is pretty damned short,’ David said pensively. ‘Especially when you view it against the age of something like that,’ and he pointed up towards Yellow Rock. ‘It seems only a short time ago that I was following Dad up that mountain and here I am a grandfather.’

  ‘That’s right. Life is damned short and a fellow shouldn’t waste the time he has. You haven’t wasted your life, David. I suppose I could have done more with mine but sheep and the dogs always kept me busy. I made enough money to satisfy me and I’ve had a good life with a fine wife. A fellow can’t ask for much more than that.’

  ‘Whatever I am, Bruce, I owe to Dad. He taught me how to work a dog and it was his dogs that gave me my start. And it was learning how to handle stragglers in this hill country that illustrated the importance of class dogs as distinct from hool-em-ups. At ten years of age I was bringing straggler wethers down from the high country. You need class dogs for that job, Bruce. I’ve got to tell you that I loved it. I came alive when I got up amongst the hills of this here high country on a good pony with a dog running behind. I used to get into trouble at school because I was forever gazing out the window at our hills. Other boys played cricket and footy and they thought I was odd for not wanting to join in. I never minded hard work, either. Dad and I used to go up in the hills to ring green timber and I had a slightly smaller axe than him. I was a tough little boy, Bruce.’

  ‘So Catriona has told me,’ McClymont said dryly.

  ‘Just as well for her I was, Bruce. Oh well, that was then and this is now. A fellow shouldn’t dwell on the past, but the trouble is that the past has a way of coming back to haunt you,’ David said.

  ‘You mean this Masters fellow?’