She climbed out and pulled on a jacket. The day was overcast and cool and as she looked up at the outcrop she shivered. It looked forbidding in the half-light – not the magical haven of ancient caves she and Joe and Seamus had explored as kids. Lighting a cigarette she tramped over the shale and stood beneath an overhang. There was a cave up there, she remembered, that had drawings on the walls which had survived for centuries. Crude sketches of kangaroos and wombats, of warriors with spears and nulla-nullas and totem spirits from the Dreamtime.
After thinking for a moment she stamped out her smoke and began to climb. It was years since she’d done this, and until she tried, she wouldn’t know if she was capable of doing it again. Yet the view would be worth it, for she had once spent long hours up on that overhang just gazing out over the land, and it had become a place of sanctuary – a place where she could cry – a place where she found the inner peace to pray. Perhaps it could still work its magic.
The rock was slippery after the rain, but her thick-soled boots gripped firmly as she picked her way over the boulders and scrub. The clouds drifted away and the sun beat down as she climbed higher and higher. She tied her coat around her waist as she paused to catch her breath. I should really give up smoking, she thought. I never used to get this out of breath. ‘Probably something to do with your age,’ she muttered as she finally reached the overhang and collapsed in a heap.
Once her pulse had returned to normal she used her coat as a cushion and sat with her arms around her knees. Memory hadn’t tricked her she realised as she stared out over the pastures that divided Warratah and Jarrah – the view was magnificent.
Humidity rose as the sun scorched damp earth, and made the cattle in the pastures look as if they were wading shoulder deep in water. Eagles drifted high on the warm thermals and she could hear the caw of crows and the laughter of a solitary kookaburra somewhere far in the distance. The scent of eucalyptus drifted up and she closed her eyes. It was as if the intervening years had never been and she was nineteen again.
The old grey horse had died that New Year’s eve of 1941 and Jacky Jack had helped her to bury him beneath one of the pepper trees that shaded the horse paddock. He’d been the last real link to her father and the long trek they’d made to get here, and although she was nineteen and all grown up, she’d still felt the keenness of her loss and had come out here so no one could see her cry. She’d spent the night here, she remembered. Curled up in a blanket within the shelter of the cave behind her. It was to be the first of many nights following the fall of Singapore.
She glanced over her shoulder and felt a cold tremble run through her spine. The mouth of the cave yawned darkly, beckoning her to enter and discover its secrets. She looked away. Age and experience had taught her caves could be dangerous. You never knew what lurked in them, and she still remembered the time she and the boys had stumbled on the charred remains of the aboriginal clay mourning caps and had thought they were skulls.
Smiling at the memory, she looked out over the miles of shimmering grass. It rippled like water in an effortless flow as the breeze made it dance and catch the sunlight. And there, on the far horizon was the dust cloud that marked the bullock muster at Jarrah. It was time for her to finish her journey.
Yet she was reluctant to return to the noise and the bustle of the stockyards. It was peaceful out here – almost silent – and as that silence instilled itself into her thoughts they drifted back to the dust cloud she’d seen all those years ago. The dust cloud that had heralded a home-coming.
*
Ellie was in the vegetable patch a few days into the new year of 1942. She was fighting the weeds that seemed to grow when everything else wilted and died. The potatoes were ready to be dug, the beetroot too, but the beans were shrivelled and the slugs had eaten most of the cabbage. She leaned on the spade as she took a breather and wiped the sweat from her forehead. The flies swarmed around her and the heat was intolerable even here in the shade of the wilgas.
A movement at the end of the long approach to Warratah made her straighten and shield her eyes from the glare. Someone was walking down the dirt road, but they were too far away for her to see who it was. Dropping the spade, she reached for the rifle she always had close to hand. She was alone on the homestead, for Aurelia and the stock boys were busy in the branding yard with the clean-skins, and mum was off somewhere with Mickey.
Ellie waited, poised and alert. There were too many suspicious characters roaming the outback these days. Rootless individuals who’d come out of the cities to escape the factories and enlistment, with little regard for other people’s property. To avoid any trouble she and Aurelia usually provided tucker and water and saw them off the station, but sometimes these itinerant travellers would become belligerent and then Jacky Jack would have to be called to forcibly eject them.
The figure waded through the watery mirage of heat as it slowly approached and Ellie finally realised it was not just a man, but a man leading a horse with a small dog running along beside him. She squinted in to the glare as the figure waved, then realisation hit and she began to run.
The horse was laden with bags, his neck drooping, the sweat drying in salty patches on his dusty coat as he plodded wearily down the dirt track. The terrier barked and ran in circles around the rotund little man with the beaming smile who waddled towards her.
‘Wang Lee,’ Ellie shrieked in delight as she threw herself into his arms and almost knocked him over. ‘I can’t believe it’s you.’
The dog yapped and danced on his back legs. The horse came to a sagging halt and Wang Lee burst into tears. ‘Is me, Miss Ellie. Wang Lee so glad he fin’ you.’
Ellie held him tightly as they stood there in the middle of the track, aware that it was now her turn to offer comfort and refuge. Wang Lee seemed smaller somehow, less rotund and rather frail beneath that grubby tunic and baggy trousers. There were streaks of grey in the long pig-tail, and his shoes were held together with string.
When the storm of tears had subsided, Wang Lee gently extricated himself. He folded his arms in the voluminous sleeves of his tunic and bowed low. ‘Wang Lee sorry for tears, Miss Ellie. But I have come very fa’ to fin’ you.’
Ellie smiled, so delighted to hear that musical voice again. ‘We’ll talk later,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you up to the homestead. Looks like you and the horse could do with a long drink and a good rest.’ She eyed the bulging pack saddles and pile of bags and pots. ‘I see you’ve brought everything including the kitchen sink,’ she gently teased.
‘Wang Lee have many things,’ he said with a touch of his old spark. ‘Not leave behind.’
The little dog raced ahead of them before turning back and barking encouragement as they walked slowly down the track, their pace measured by the weary plod of the horse. Having reached the homestead paddock, Ellie helped to unload the poor beast before giving him a good rub down with the saddle blanket and setting him free.
She and Wang Lee leaned on the fence railings and watched as he dipped his greying muzzle in to the water and drank thirstily. The little dog jumped in to the trough and lapped voraciously before splashing his way out and shaking himself dry. He then turned avid attention to his fleas and began to scratch luxuriously.
Clipper, who was pining for the old grey’s company, approached the other horse and nuzzled his neck, as if recognising a weary traveller and welcoming him home. The tired old horse gave a wicker of acknowledgement and together they wandered off and began to crop at the manger of hay and oats Ellie had put out that morning.
‘Fu Man Chu happy now,’ said Wang Lee with a tired smile. ‘Animal walk too fa’.’
Ellie laughed. ‘You’ve called your horse Fu Man Chu?’
He shook his head, the weary smile not quite reaching his eyes. ‘Horse call’ Chinaman. Dog is Fu Man Chu.’
‘It’s unusual, I’ll give you that,’ she replied, trying not to smile as she watched the brown and white terrier with the piratical tan patch over one eye roll
in the dirt.
‘Ah so, Miss Ellie,’ he said softly. ‘Betta call Chinaman then people know Wang Lee not Japanese.’
Ellie noticed the emphasis and realised life must have become very difficult for him during these last few months. With the Japanese invading Malaya and bombing Pearl Harbour ignorant people would see only the almond eyes and pigtail to come to the wrong conclusion. ‘Come on, Wang Lee. I’ll get you some tucker and make you up a bed. You look as if you need a very long rest. We can talk later.’
*
Ellie had seen the two women approach and as she waited for Wang Lee to awake from his afternoon sleep she watched from the shadows of the hall. She could tell Aurelia was hot, filthy and in dire need of a large glass of something alcoholic after her heavy workload. For this had been the last day of branding and despite the lack of rain the herd had increased. Now all they could do was pray they could keep them alive long enough to get them over to the meat market in Brisbane.
‘Repel boarders,’ yelled Kelly. ‘Bombs away. Flak, flak, flak.’
‘Shut up, Kelly,’ mumbled Aurelia. ‘You’re becoming tedious.’
‘Urrgh?’ He picked at one delicate claw, his yellow eye beady. ‘Chin, chin,’ he said brightly. ‘Bottoms up.’
‘That’s more like it,’ said Alicia as she took the verandah steps two at a time and threw her hat on the table. ‘What I wouldn’t do for a large glass of gin with lots of ice. Mickey insisted I tramp over half his damn property this afternoon, and I’m gasping.’
‘Gin’s finished. There’s a tiny drop of whisky though.’ Aurelia poured the two fingers of whisky into the glasses and handed one over. ‘No Mickey?’ she enquired.
‘I sent him back home. One afternoon with him is enough,’ Alicia said firmly before knocking back half her drink.
Ellie was so keyed up she couldn’t wait any longer to break the news. She slammed through the screen doors.
‘What’s happened?’ Aurelia asked, her eyes wide with fear.
‘We’ve got a visitor, Aunt Aurelia,’ she replied breathless with excitement. Ellie stepped aside and Aurelia’s monocle popped from her eye socket when she saw the tiny oriental standing in the shadow of her doorway.
‘What’s that Jap doing here?’ Alicia demanded before Aurelia had time to speak. She slammed her glass on the table and stood up. ‘We ought to call the police or the army or something. He should have been interned with the others.’
‘He’s not a Jap,’ hissed Ellie. ‘This is Wang Lee and he’s Chinese.’
Alicia sneered as she looked him up and down. ‘They all look the same to me,’ she said rudely. ‘And I won’t feel safe in my bed knowing he’s here.’ She approached the door and found herself barred from the house by her daughter. ‘Let me pass, Elspeth,’ she ordered. ‘It’s our duty to inform the authorities and have him removed.’
Ellie looked to Aurelia for help. She hadn’t expected her mother to react like this and was horrified.
Aurelia fixed her monocle and took charge. ‘Alicia sit down and stop making a fool of yourself,’ she commanded. ‘Ellie, bring Wang Lee out here so he can sit down. The poor man looks exhausted.’
The little man came shuffling out on to the verandah, his arms hidden in the folds of his tunic sleeves, his pigtail drooping down his back. He bowed low to Aurelia. ‘Much honour meet aunt of Miss Ellie,’ he said softly. Then he bowed to Alicia who was sitting very erect in her chair as if poised for flight. ‘Very sorry cause trouble Missy. Wang Lee no stay if you no like.’
‘Ellie’s mother doesn’t know what you did for her when she was on the tracks,’ Aurelia explained. ‘You’ll have to forgive her rudeness.’ Ignoring Alicia’s sharp interjection she helped him into a chair and gave him her whisky.
‘We owe you far more than you could ever realise, Wang Lee,’ she said studiously avoiding her sister’s glare of outrage. ‘And you are welcome to stay as long as you like.’
He struggled from the chair and bowed again. ‘Wang Lee most honoured.’
Ellie pulled up a chair and as the little man sipped the drink, she told her mother how she’d come to meet Wang Lee, and how he’d helped keep her identity secret and had ultimately saved her life with his gift of the mirror.
‘I worked as Wang Lee’s helper on the drove and slept in a hammock slung beneath the cook wagon. Snowy had given me Clipper by then, and it was when we were only a couple of weeks outside Longreach that Clipper was caught in a small stampede and was gored by a bullock. I fell and hit my head and wrenched my ankle. I didn’t wake up for nearly two days.’
She looked across at Wang Lee whose dark eyes were watching her thoughtfully. ‘Wang Lee took care of me. He made me up a bed in his wagon and used his potions and ointments to help me get better. He also realised I wasn’t a boy, but kept my secret.’ She smiled at him. ‘I never did ask why you did that, Wang Lee. It could have been the end of your job if the others had found out.’
‘I Chinaman,’ he said with pride. ‘Know how hard to live in this land when different. Not easy for man find work with girl. Not easy for Chinaman either to let girl be sent away. Wang Lee grow very fond of her.’
Ellie smiled. In hindsight she had realised the truth. She and Wang Lee had a lot in common, for being a little girl on the matilda was as lonely as being a Chinaman in an alien country. ‘I hurt my foot in the fall as well, and Wang Lee carved me the walking stick I keep on the wall in my room. But it was his gift of the mirror that saved my life.’
She fell silent and let Aurelia pick up the threads of the story. For it still hurt to remember those last few hours she’d had with her father, and the ordeal she’d survived with the dingo.
Alicia looked barely mollified and her nod of thanks was stiff as Aurelia finished speaking.
‘Wang Lee good cook,’ he said into the ensuing silence. ‘Make tucker, earn keep while stay.’
‘Excellent,’ said Aurelia. ‘Anything would be an improvement after Sally’s cooking.’
Wang Lee took over from Sally in the kitchen. He did all the cooking, turning out delicious meals from what could only be termed rather basic supplies and demoted Sally to the kitchen chores. He made sure she did things properly whilst keeping a wary eye on the precious sacks of flour and sugar and the cans of kerosine. They no longer disappeared into the native humpies.
His arrival meant the women were released from the homestead to attend the stock. He took on the time-consuming tasks of feeding the chooks and milking the cows, and could often be found digging in the vegetable plot. He seemed to have a magic touch; for everything began to thrive. His potions were used to full effect when one of the stock boys ripped his leg open on barbed wire, and again when Jacky Jack went down with a fever. His skills at shadow puppets and his obvious delight with the native children made him a firm favourite with their mothers who happily let him babysit while they went off to hunt or to gossip.
Ellie and Aurelia wondered how they’d ever coped before his arrival and Wang Lee soon became an integral part of Warratah as he shuffled around the homestead and nearby paddocks, his little dog chasing after him. Fu Man Chu proved to be an excellent ratter as well as a bunny-killer, and it was as if he knew he had to earn his keep. Yet he wisely kept away from the kennels and the Blue Heelers as his enthusiastic willingness to make friends had backfired – he’d been badly bitten by one of the dogs and had to have his ear stitched.
Unlike everyone else, Alicia was still wary of Wang Lee, but she maintained a polite coolness and kept her opinions to herself, for which they were all grateful. There was enough trouble in the world without having it in the home.
The women were sitting around the table on the night of February 19th. waiting for the newscast to begin. Wang Lee was crashing pots, Sally was preparing vegetables for the next day and Fu Man Chu was lying in front of the cooking range. He’d finally been allowed in the house following a bath in disinfectant and was making the most of the comfort this afforded. For the little terrier was a
stray, a swaggie who’d walked the lonely wallaby tracks and never known a real home before, and his adoration of Wang Lee was his way of showing his gratitude.
The cattle had been brought as close to the homestead as possible, for the endless droving across the thousands of acres of Warratah was proving too much for everyone. Several hundred of the fats had been drafted down to Longreach with a couple of the stock boys and Jacky Jack, and now there were only the breeders, the bulls and the yearlings left. If they were careful, they might just see the drought through.
All activity stopped in the kitchen as the newsreader’s voice boomed into the room.
‘It is my sad duty to inform you that Darwin has been attacked.’
‘Oh my God,’ shrieked Alicia.
‘Shut up,’ ordered Aurelia and Ellie in unison as they turned up the volume.
The newscaster was still talking. ‘Japanese carrier-based bombers attacked Darwin earlier today, sinking eight ships. Over two hundred seamen are feared dead as well as countless troops and civilians.’
‘Darwin,’ breathed Aurelia. ‘It’s too close. Thank God Jack’s safe in Broome.’
As they listened, the true horror of Australia’s predicament slowly dawned. Enemy bombers had almost eradicated the northern town that had once been thought invincible. The war had finally come to Australia.
Then the broadcaster’s tone changed and the atmosphere in the kitchen lightened. ‘There is some good news from the north, however,’ he informed them. ‘Thousands of cattle have escaped the enemy bomb attack and are safely out of reach due to the bravery of a handful of elderly men, women and boys. The cattlemen whose stations are in the far north of Western Australia united several days ago and have already begun one of the biggest cattle droves known in the history of this country. They have left Wyndham and are expected to cross the state line into the Northern Territory in about a month’s time where they will be joined by cattlemen and women from that state’s northern stations. It is vital we keep our cattle out of Japanese hands, and these brave men and women of the outback are doing their bit by ensuring the cattle are moved as swiftly as possible out of the danger zone.
Windflowers Page 21