by Tony Parsons
When the Cessna landed, Ian was the first to greet Billy. Jim had told Billy that but for Mr Metcalfe’s quick bandaging of his leg and for Ian’s plane, he might still be in hospital (or much worse, Jim had thought). He’d warned Billy that he had to be more careful where he walked in future.
Leo helped Karen down from the plane and she turned to Ian and hugged him. ‘Thank you,’ she said with tears in her eyes. And when Jim shook Ian’s hand and nodded, Ian felt his own tears welling. He had been so worried about Billy, and whether Karen and Jim would blame him for their ordeal. He should have known they were far too generous and forgiving for that.
Ian bobbed down to give Billy a hug. ‘I saw Sherry from up in the sky,’ Billy said excitedly. ‘He was looking at me.’
‘You can go and see him tomorrow, Billy,’ his father told him. He turned to Ian, ‘Karen wants to go to Top River to thank Leigh for his quick action.’ Ian was full of admiration for Karen at this moment. He knew that she didn’t feel comfortable with Leigh.
‘I think we’ll have to get you a pony to keep your feet off the ground, Billy,’ Ian said with a laugh.
‘A pony? Then I could go riding with you and Fiona,’ Billy said.
Judy saw the momentary look of alarm on Fiona’s face. This arrangement was obviously not quite what Fiona would be hoping for, but still she said kindly, ‘That would be lovely, Billy.’
Ian gave Fiona a grateful look.
‘Mrs Heatley has lunch waiting and I happen to know that she’s got some special goodies there for you, Billy,’ Judy said.
The next day, Ian issued a clean-up directive to his men. All tall grass near buildings was to be mown and all sheet-iron and timber was to be raised off the ground. Any cover that could hide a snake was to be eliminated and things were to be kept that way. In the course of the resulting clean-up, several snakes were discovered and destroyed.
The following week, a half-page advertisement appeared in the Western Courier and ran for the next four weeks. It read:
REWARD
The sum of $10 will be paid for every dead venomous
snake (any variety) delivered to Kanimbla station.
Leo did not approve of the advertisement. ‘I appreciate that you’re making a protest, but frankly, Ian, I’m opposed to Kanimbla money being used in this fashion.’
‘I don’t see why we can’t categorise it as pest control,’ Ian responded. ‘Snakes certainly come into that category. But I’m not going to argue with you, Mr Blake. I’ll pay for everything from my own account.’
There was a lot of discussion in the district about whether the advertisement was a hoax or fair dinkum until several bushies decided to test the water. They turned up with dead snakes and received their reward. The word spread and more people began bringing in snakes.
Ian had paid out nearly fifteen hundred dollars by the time he received a phone call advising him that two National Parks officials would be calling on him the following morning. He had been expecting something like this and didn’t know what the outcome would be. But in the meantime, he couldn’t help feeling glad that there were one hundred and fifty fewer snakes around the district than before.
The rangers arrived about ten the next morning. Ian invited them to sit on the front verandah and offered them cool drinks. Leo had asked Ian whether he could sit in on the meeting.
‘Are you aware that it’s an offence to kill native animals except by special decree, such as in the case of an open season on kangaroos?’ the older ranger asked.
‘I’m not killing native animals,’ Ian said simply.
The ranger produced Ian’s advertisement and spread it out on the table.
‘I haven’t killed a single one,’ said Ian. ‘I’m simply paying for the dead snakes people bring here. They could have been run over on the roads for all I know.’
‘You’re encouraging people to kill snakes, which are a protected species,’ the younger ranger said, trying to conceal his anger.
‘Up in one of those cottages is a great little boy who came very close to dying after he was bitten by a brown snake. If he’d died I was going to bring an action against whoever was responsible for drafting the idiotic legislation that protects killer snakes and for whoever was responsible for enacting it. Those people would have been culpable.’
‘Culpable? How could anyone be culpable?’ the older ranger asked.
‘Snakes are your responsibility, aren’t they?’ Ian asked.
‘Yes, I suppose they are.’
‘Then you should be responsible for any damage they cause. That’s the drill in every other walk of life. If one of my animals gets out on the road and causes damage to a vehicle or a driver, I’m responsible. In effect, you’re condoning the most venomous snakes in the world. It’s like having loaded guns all over the country – except that snakes are more dangerous than loaded guns. At least with guns we’re supposed to keep them in locked containers,’ Ian said.
‘You’d be wasting your money taking that route. You’d never succeed,’ the younger ranger said.
‘Don’t be too sure of that. There’s been a lot of legislation overturned in recent years. It’s just that no snake protection outfit has yet been charged with culpability. If keeping certain kinds of guns is illegal because they’re more dangerous than others, I don’t see that protecting snakes that can kill humans and animals is any less of a crime,’ Ian said evenly.
‘Snakes have their place in the ecosystem, like dozens of other highly venomous or dangerous creatures,’ the older ranger said.
‘But we kill dingoes because they attack our sheep and calves,’ Ian continued. ‘Why should snakes be treated differently? If a fellow broke into your house and threatened you or your wife with a weapon, wouldn’t you try and do something about it?’ Ian asked.
‘But snakes only attack when they are frightened or provoked —,’ the older ranger began.
‘A snake is a threat to every person and every animal,’ Ian interrupted. ‘One of my jackaroos lost a good young sheepdog to snakebite just the other day. It was probably worth at least a thousand dollars. But more than the money, it’s the suffering caused.
‘If I send you an account for Peter’s dog, or for any other animals killed by snakes, will the Queensland National Parks and Wildlife Service cough up the money to pay for them?’ Ian asked.
Both rangers sighed and shook their heads.
‘So you tell me you’re responsible for the brutes, yet you want me and all the other landholders to bear the cost of the animals they kill. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. If I lose any more animals to snakes, I’m going to send a bill to your department and then I’m going to contact all the major current affairs programs and advise them of what I’ve done.’
‘But the law simply states that it is illegal to kill snakes,’ said the younger ranger, who came across as the more aggressive of the pair. ‘You will be breaking the law.’
‘Then the law is an ass and should be changed. You can make all the laws you like, but it won’t stop people from killing snakes. The average bush person has got a lot more common sense than the pie-in-the-sky bureaucrats who drafted that ridiculous clause in the Nature Conservation Act. I’m all for preserving native animals and I’m full of regret for the species that have been made extinct, but where were the gentlemen like yourselves when over half a million harmless Queensland koalas were massacred in 1927? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a great deal of work to do,’ said Ian as he showed the rangers to the door.
Chapter Twenty-one
Ian found it hard to believe that a year had passed since he first arrived in Murrawee. It was only when the sheepdog trial began that he realised just how much had been achieved in that time. The trial might not have been the biggest event ever staged in Murrawee – it was a moot point whether it was bigger than the annual gymkhana – but it was memorable for the fact that it was the district’s first. It was also a landmark occasion because the man who came to judge it
was a legendary figure in the pastoral community. David MacLeod was a renowned kelpie breeder, and owned a merino stud that produced some of the best sheep in the country.
Ian had invited David MacLeod and his wife, Catriona, to stay at Kanimbla for a couple of days prior to the trial. He was keen to hear David’s opinion on their sheep and also to go over the trial courses with him.
Ian was waiting to greet them on the front verandah when they pulled up in the late afternoon. David was a tall, wide-shouldered man, now grey at the temples, who could still turn heads. But it was Catriona who captured Ian’s attention. She was lovely: fair with warm brown eyes and a tall, slender figure. Her clothes seemed made just for her and she walked with a quiet confidence. Ian was immediately reminded of his mother. As the pair walked towards the homestead it was clear from the way that they looked at each other that they were still very much in love. It was just how Ian remembered his mother and father, and he was suddenly overcome by a mixture of sadness and a kind of gratitude to the MacLeods.
After smoko on the verandah, David and Catriona asked whether they could see Gus. They stood in the gathering dusk and looked at the dog David had sold to Ian’s uncle more than five years ago. ‘He’s a typical MacLeod kelpie. On a scale of one to ten for natural ability, I’d have scored him eight and a half – that’s pretty good. The best I’ve ever rated a dog was nine and a half, but I regard anything from eight up as worth keeping for breeding purposes,’ David said.
‘For a long time I scored way below eight on David’s scale,’ Catriona smiled.
‘But what matters is what you score now, Catriona,’ Ian said, returning her smile.
‘Good for you, Ian,’ David said with a laugh and thumped him on the back. It was an affectionate thump, but Ian preferred not to think about how it would feel to be on the receiving end of something less friendly.
The Blakes and the Landers joined Ian and the MacLeods for dinner at Kanimbla. It was the first time the big dining room had been used since Ian’s arrival. Billy came too because David and Catriona had wanted to meet the brave boy who’d survived a snakebite. Billy was on his best behaviour and knew that he had to go to bed as soon as dinner was over. But he was captivated by David and forgot all about eating. David talked about his ponies and the ponies his children had ridden. He gave Billy an account of the first time he’d ridden up Yellow Rock, a notoriously difficult hill on the MacLeods’ High Peaks property. He told him about the eagles that rode the thermals above the Rock. And he told him about the wethers that found sanctuary on the mountain and how you needed a very good dog to winkle them out. Billy’s wide eyes widened even further when David talked about the ‘eel bashing’ picnics in the creek on High Peaks.
That night the yarning went on for a very long time. Over Mrs Heatley’s delicious buffet meal of hot and cold meats, baked potatoes, green beans and salad, the guests chatted about their lives on the land and their love of the bush. With the exception of Ian and Karen Landers, they’d all spent a large part of their lives in the bush.
Ian was impressed by Catriona. She was fascinating to talk to, obviously highly intelligent, and stylish yet down-to-earth. What a couple she and David made. Fiona would enjoy meeting her, he thought.
Well after midnight, Jim and Karen said they’d have to take Billy – now asleep on Ian’s bed – home, and the Blakes also got up to leave. Ian, usually so keen to escape an evening of entertaining, was reluctant to say goodnight, but apologised for keeping David and Catriona up so late after their long drive and urged them to sleep in the next morning.
‘Ha, you must be joking, Ian,’ Catriona laughed. ‘Nothing would make David stay in bed. Believe me, I’ve tried! I’m resigned to enjoying my lie-ins on my own.’
‘Remember this when you team up with your Miss Wonderful, Ian,’ David advised. ‘You can’t win with women. They’re either complaining that you’re neglecting them or scolding you for being under their feet.’
After some cheerful, loud protests from Catriona and Judy, they all went off to bed.
The next morning, Ian took the MacLeods riding. He gave his biggest gelding to David because of his size, and his own favourite, Major, to Catriona. Both David and Catriona sat horses as if they were part of them, and they rode for most of the morning. Ian took them down along the river, where the white cockies called shrilly from the gums. Eventually they dismounted and sat on a log to drink tea from small flasks and enjoy Mrs Heatley’s biscuits. ‘This must be quite a contrast to your hill country,’ said Ian.
‘Sure is. But we do own a couple of properties on flattish country. We grow our best sheep there,’ David told him.
‘The wool market’s a real worry, isn’t it, David?’ Ian commented. ‘Our ram sales are down a heap, as they seem to be everywhere. Seems like cattle are the big thing.’
‘Cattle have had their low periods too. We haven’t been too badly affected so far,’ David said. ‘We don’t have the ram numbers that Kanimbla has, and were able to breed some finer rams.
‘We don’t have the option of going finer,’ said Ian, ‘or we’ll lose size, and this is not fine-wool country anyway. I don’t want to convert Kanimbla to an all-cattle operation either, but we’re going to have to take some hard decisions about where we’re going with sheep. Maybe reduce the numbers of rams we breed and look at meat production.’
‘There’s plenty of that going on,’ David agreed. ‘I’m having a look at it myself, in fact. I’m thinking of putting some of our wether lambs into a feedlot to top them off. I’ve got one butcher interested if he can get a constant supply. But that’s a bit hard to arrange when you’ve got fixed lambing times.’
‘Wether lambs in a feedlot? That sounds interesting. Would it pay to feed them?’ Ian asked.
‘Our sums say it would.’
‘Very interesting,’ Ian mused. ‘Well, we’d better make tracks. I can see that we’re boring Catriona.’
Catriona smiled, but didn’t argue.
They returned to the homestead for a salad lunch. Soon after, Leo and Jim arrived to collect David to show him the Kanimbla rams and stud ewes. Ian told them that he’d talk to David about the sheep later, and elected to stay at the homestead with Catriona.
It was so easy to talk with Catriona, and they spent most of the afternoon on the verandah, chatting. Mrs Heatley brought them afternoon tea. ‘It’s amazing how much you resemble my mother, Catriona,’ he said, after a while.
If Catriona was surprised by his remark, she didn’t show it. ‘Do you remember your parents very well?’ she asked.
‘I was only eight when they died, but yes, they’re still clear in my mind,’ Ian said quietly.
Ian went on to describe the years since his parents’ death, and Catriona listened intently. Despite the difference in their ages and background, she seemed to understand completely his unhappiness during his years at school, his attachment to his stiff grandfather, and his love for the English countryside.
‘So how did you feel when you learned that you’d been left this great property?’ Catriona asked.
‘Honestly? I was confused. I thought it was a huge complication.’
Catriona gave him a questioning look, and he felt encouraged to continue. ‘You see, I began studying a science degree while I was at Wongarben, and I’m continuing it here, keeping my options open. But I know that if I do return to Cambridge, I’ll be regarded as the most ungrateful creature on God’s earth. Ownership of Kanimbla definitely gives me a certain standing in the community. And it’s a pleasant enough occupation – I don’t have to work hard because the staff do all the physical labour. My role is more public relations with our ram buyers. And that’s going to be a declining role, the way the wool industry is shaping. It’s going to be a hard decision,’ said Ian.
Catriona gazed at the gardens thoughtfully for a moment before replying.
‘I think you should do whatever will give you the most satisfaction, Ian. David has stock and land on the brain – it’s
all he’s ever wanted and he wouldn’t be happy doing anything else. He’s worked very hard but he’s had his share of luck too. His parents were battling on a hill country property when a neighbour offered to sell them his property – an offer they couldn’t refuse. David’s parents were great people; hard-working and incredibly unselfish. I admired them very much, and compared to them, I realise now I was far from the perfect mother. Before the children went to school, I had a nanny for them because I wanted to be with David all the time. If I’d been a different kind of mother, I wouldn’t have sent them away to boarding school either. David tried to talk me out of it, but I wanted to work on the property.’
‘I’m sure you did a wonderful job raising your children, Catriona. All children think their parents are very special, no matter what they choose to do. Mine realised it was risky taking me to Africa, but they wanted me to be with them. It was horrible after the crash – I remember being terrified. But if I’d been left behind in England, I think I’d have taken their deaths a lot harder.’
‘It must have been terrible losing your family. Do you have a girlfriend yet? Someone to share your life with? I can’t imagine waking up in the morning without David beside me.’
Ian hesitated. He felt he could tell Catriona anything, but was afraid that if he opened up, it might be his undoing. ‘Not really,’ he said, looking at his hands.
‘Oh, come now, Ian. Mrs Heatley told me last night that you see a lot of Fiona McDonald. She sounds like a lovely girl.’
‘She is,’ Ian replied, ‘but really, we’re just friends. Would you like another cuppa?’
Catriona knew the boy was uncomfortable, so steered the conversation back to safer topics.
‘No thanks. I’m quite full. So how are you going with your studies?’
‘Not bad. It’s a lot of work, but I’m really enjoying it. It’s almost as if I’m leading a double life – boss of Kanimbla by day and dedicated student at night.’
‘Good on you. Life’s short, and in the end, I believe we should all do what we feel we do best. Our oldest boy, Dougal, did well at school and went on to become a vet. David was disappointed that he chose not to stay on the property, but he realises now that Dougal made the right decision. And our other two, Moira and Angus, are both stock and land cranks so David’s got good company there.’