Harry must hear the negative tone in his father’s voice, for he turns to Jacob. ‘We could go on horseback, couldn’t we, Jacob? You haven’t finished your graduation certificate yet.’
‘I’m not going back to school. I’ve learned all I want to know.’
Harry looks stricken. ‘Well, I haven’t.’
‘We could ride Bobbie,’ I say.
‘Bobbie’s too good for a school horse.’ Uncle Malachi says it kindly and it’s more scary than if he scoffed. ‘We need him for the work.’ He glances at Da.
Da sighs. It’s loud and slow and I know I won’t like what he says next. ‘Keren,’ he starts. ‘There’s no track and we can’t take the time off to cut one – not until we’ve finished the paddock. I’m afraid school will have to wait a while.’
‘In the meantime stick with your lessons with me,’ Mam says briskly.
The disappointment at not seeing Valmai and now not being able to go to school is too much. I feel like shouting at Mam. Doesn’t she care that we can’t go to school? She’s probably glad we can’t so we can help with all the work. I march off to the tent in a huff. It goes quiet at the campfire and I bet Jacob’s pleased I’m upset, but I don’t care.
I light a candle on the trunk to get undressed. Elowen is already asleep. I try to read some of Seven Little Australians but Mum pops her head inside. She doesn’t tell me off like I deserve – she hands me an envelope and her voice is soft. ‘Here, a letter from Wenna.’ I can’t stay cross with Mam, but I’m still upset about school.
Inside the envelope is a postcard and a darling heart with an angel on it walking through white flowers that look like bluebells, and the words: ‘Love and devotion’. On the back she’s written: ‘I miss you’. I put it in Seven Little Australians to use as a bookmark, then sit on the mattress to read the postcard. On the front there are two clasped hands with the words: ‘By sea or by land, you’ll understand, by this I long to clasp your hand’.
Easter Day, Sixteenth of April, 1911
Dear Kerry Berry
I miss you so much, our times in the woods and singing together. All those stories I told you and you used to tell them back to me when you were old enough, with embellishments. When you get this it will be long past Easter but I hope you have a happy day. Josiah is good – he cheers me up. Today he gave Nanny a bunch of flowers for her birthday, and me a lovely ring which was his mother’s. I hope to have something exciting to tell you soon. Nanny says be careful of the dingoes. She’s funny.
All my love from your ever-loving big sister, Wenna
Straight away I get one of Nanny’s postcards from the trunk and tell Wenna about how we can’t go to school. She will understand.
Twenty-fifth of May, 1911
Dearest Wenna
I miss you too. It is so hard to live here. It hasn’t rained and there’s so much scrub and wild animals. We have to bake bread, and stir cream forever to make butter and it never tastes as good. Now we can’t go to school and I think that’s the worst of all. Not until the paddock (that’s a field) is cleared. It could take ages. Please give my love to Nanny, and tell Josiah the horses are lovely, though Queenie doesn’t like anyone walking behind her. We’re going to breed a whole herd.
From your ever-loving sis, Kerenza
P.S. Please tell Maylene to write. I don’t have any more stamps. I miss Maylene even though I have a secret friend (shh, don’t tell) and she has a dog. And there’s a girl I haven’t met yet. I’m wondering if I ever will.
14
At breakfast I forget about warning Winnie about Jacob.
Da puts his spoon down when he hasn’t even finished his porridge. ‘There’s a surprise coming today.’
I groan. ‘Not silly old machinery for the farm.’
‘The machinery is important for our livelihood, Keren.’ Then he pauses and makes sure we’re all listening as though he’s on a stage.
‘What is it, Da?’ Elowen cries.
‘Horses.’ He smiles at the look on our faces.
I frown. ‘We have horses.’
‘We’ll need seven to pull a plough,’ Uncle Malachi says.
Harry jumps up. ‘You mean more horses?’
‘Where are they coming from?’ Kitto asks.
‘The Carthew farm.’
‘Emily Carthew and her brother? The children who dug the well?’ I ask.
Da chuckles. ‘They’re not children any more.’
Kitto gives a whoop and by Mam’s pressed lips I can tell she knows about it. Why isn’t she happy?
Da hasn’t finished. ‘Kerenza, you can help by cleaning the canvas shed floor for the new horses. Kitto, you can help Mam do the washing today.’ Poor Mam: washing will take double the time with Kitto helping. No wonder she doesn’t look happy. He’ll make paper boats to float in the rinse water.
Kitto whines and Mam says he can do the dishes too. That stops him. Even he knows when it’s time to stop arguing with Mam.
It’s cold, so I put my warm jumper on as well as my boots. I’m so excited about the horses I don’t even mind I have to use the shovel to muck out the shed.
By morning tea time, Da gives us a shout. We run out and see spectacular Clydesdales trotting towards us, their manes and tails flying high. Kitto runs out of the canvas kitchen and even Mam walks out to see. A mounted girl wearing a wide-brimmed hat like a man’s says, ‘G’day.’ She smiles at us. ‘I’m Emily Carthew, and here are your new teams.’
I stare at her in awe. She points to a young man on a bay mare on the other side of the Clydesdales. ‘This is Thomas, my brother.’ Emily looks pretty like Wenna, though older. Strong too. I bet she could get Kitto to do jobs without him whinging once.
Thomas dismounts and shows us the horses. There are five pairs of Clydesdales like ours, all mares or geldings. He tells us their names, ‘Ginger, Duke, Melba …’ I’ll have to stitch names for their halters – I’ll remember Melba’s name, as she must be named after Nellie Melba. She has a strong personality like Queenie and I wonder if Queenie will still be the boss.
Just then Thomas brings forward two more horses I didn’t notice. They are riding horses, both bays, a mare and a stallion. Elowen claps her hands, but I just stare. They look as fine as Mr Polglase’s horses. I see Da looking them over.
‘Are they ours, Da?’ I hardly dare to hope.
He glances at me. ‘How else will you get to school on time, eh?’
‘School?’ I almost screech. ‘Are we allowed to go to school?’
‘Your mother said we have to stop farm work to cut that dashed school track.’
I glance at Mam, hardly believing it. Her mouth turns up. I grin at her and take the mare’s halter.
Thomas says, ‘This one’s called Matilda. Tilly for short. The stallion is Banjo.’ He looks wistfully at them, and I bet he’s the one who’s bred them. ‘They’re fine horses,’ he says to Da. ‘You’ll be able to build a herd of Australian draught horses with Banjo and your Clydie mares.’
Da’s stroking Banjo’s neck. ‘Is that so?’
‘You bet.’
I can tell Da’s getting ideas, and Harry’s overheard. ‘Uncle Clemo, that’s a beaut idea. We’ll have fifty working horses in no time. Think of how many paddocks we can plough at once.’
Banjo tosses his head; he looks so refined against the Clydesdales. Horses like him pull carriages in Cornwall.
We tie the new horses’ reins to the slip rail under the canvas shed. The horses all drink from a dug-out log of water.
Bobbie snickers in greeting to the new horses and Queenie nips one on the flank as he walks past. I grin and think what fun it would be to show Winnie the horses.
When I’ve milked Gertrude I ask Elowen to take the milk in. If I do there’ll be another job for sure, and I must see Winnie. Besides, Elowen’s big enough now to mash potatoes. I race out into the scrub. I’m never sure where Clarrie’s camp will be, so I sing as I walk to let Rouge know I’m here. I stop to listen, and sure enough, I
hear a bark. And there she is, bursting through the undergrowth with Winnie right behind her. Rouge looks fatter today.
‘G’day.’ Winnie’s smile is huge.
‘I’ve got something to show you. C’mon.’ I say ‘come on’ like she and Harry do. We run back through the scrub until I can see our canvas shed. Winnie stops still and won’t budge another step. ‘That’s your place,’ she says. I’ve never seen her look so serious.
‘Yes, I want to show you our horses.’
Winnie’s eyes brighten. ‘I’ll walk behind you, in your footsteps. If anyone’s looking they’ll only see you.’
It’s fun walking with Winnie right behind me. Wherever I walk, she walks. It’s a good game, but I know it’s not a game for Winnie. She seems worried. She soon forgets about it when we reach the shed and she sees Bobbie and Queenie and all the others. ‘Bonza horses,’ she says. Rouge isn’t afraid of the horses at all. Queenie shies a little. I wouldn’t put it past her to kick the dog if it got behind her. But Rouge has manners around the horses.
‘I better go now.’ Winnie’s watching the sun go down over our canvas house. ‘If your people see me here Dad will get cross.’
‘Why?’
‘People don’t like me.’
‘That can’t be true. I like you.’
‘But you’re not true blue English, Dad says. You and me, we’re both different from other Australians.’
‘I know I’m new, but your family was here first before all the English people.’
She smiles, but she looks sad at the same time. ‘I’ll see ya soon.’ She runs back to the scrub keeping to the shadows of the trees. Rouge runs out in the open, bounding across the paddock the men have cleared.
That’s when I hear a shot. And I remember what Jacob said. He’s out with the rifle. He’ll hit Rouge.
‘Stop!’ I shout.
I see him raising the rifle to his shoulder. He shoots again.
‘Jacob, no!’ I run towards him. He lowers the gun as I come close.
‘What are you doing out here at dusk, you stupid jackass? I could have shot you.’
‘What are you shooting at?’
‘There’s a feral dog over by the paddock.’
‘It must be gone now.’ I pull on his arm. ‘Come back for dinner.’
He frowns at me. ‘What’s it to you? We don’t want dogs bothering the horses or the chooks.’
I calm down. Rouge should be gone by now. ‘I was just scared by the shooting.’ I don’t tell him that Granda shot wild birds for us to eat when he was alive and I wasn’t scared then. It was Rouge I was scared for, and if she been shot it would have been my fault.
15
In the morning Jacob doesn’t say anything to Da about me being out when he was shooting, and I’m glad. The men are busy with the school track. We all help; even Mam drives the dray until it’s time to cook dinner. Kitto, Elowen and I have hessian bags tied to our waists for sticks. Picking up sticks hurts my hands and I get cuts and blisters, but this time not one of us complains. Nor do we complain when our backs ache from bending over so much. We know the quicker we get the track cleared the quicker we can go to school.
Elowen brings an armful of sticks to the dray and I help her throw them on. ‘How will Mam do all our jobs when we’re at school?’ She stares up at me. ‘Watering the garden, Gertrude, the wood. The newspaper squares for the dunny.’
I smile at her Australian word. ‘She won’t. We’ll get up earlier, do our work, and then we’ll go to school.’ Though I wonder how Mam will do the washing by herself. I could help with the ironing after school. I sigh; those box irons heated up on the stove are so heavy.
When Mam returns to our canvas house I go with her and she lets me take the reins and drive. This is one job I don’t mind doing, though I find it’s not as easy as I thought to make a horse do what I want. Queenie sometimes stops in the middle of the track just because she feels like it, but Bobbie is the sweetest stallion ever.
After my jobs are done I slip away to find Winnie. I race into the scrub, watching so that no one sees me. I sing, hoping Rouge will hear me, but she doesn’t come. Instead Winnie appears.
‘How do you do that?’ I ask.
‘What?’
‘Appear suddenly like a fairy.’
‘I’m used to walking in the scrub. My gran shows me how to do it quietly. So I don’t disturb anything.’
‘That sounds nice.’ I think of how ants swarm out of their nest by the chook coop when Elowen walks on it. Maybe they wouldn’t notice Winnie’s footsteps.
‘I’ve got something to show you. C’mon.’
She runs ahead and I race behind her playing our game of putting my feet where hers have been. She stops running and drops to all fours. ‘You have to crawl for this one,’ she says. It’s like a tunnel of bushes, and when we stand up again we’re in a new clearing. Clarrie’s there and Maggie the horse, but Rouge is lying down.
‘Is she sick?’ I ask.
‘Nah. Come and see.’ Winnie leads the way.
Some animal is whimpering and Rouge smiles up at me as I approach. ‘She’s got pups! They’re adorable.’
Winnie picks up one and hands it to me. It’s red like Rouge. ‘This is for you.’
‘Me?’ The pup burrows into me.
She nods. ‘When it’s big enough you can take it home.’
I glance at Clarrie and he smiles at me. ‘Winnie’s a generous girl, but you deserve that pup, lass.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Here.’ Winnie slips it in my pinny pocket, and its little paws hang over the edge. ‘He’s so tiny he can fit in your pocket.’ She grins.
‘That’s what I’ll call him.’
‘What?’
‘Pockets.’
Winnie laughs, and I can’t remember being this happy, not in the Mallee.
I put the pup back with Rouge so it can drink from her teat. Then I stand up and hug Winnie. ‘We’re going to school soon. Why don’t you come?’
Winnie’s smile fades. ‘I have to go to school at the mission. I can’t go to your white English school.’
‘But that’s not fair. We’d have fun at school together.’
Clarrie hears me. ‘Now the government even wants Winnie and her gran to live on a reserve, but here is where they’re happy. It’s their country. I hope more kids think like you, lass, and grow up to change the laws.’
I don’t understand what he means but I see the sun has slipped. ‘I have to go and do my jobs but I’ll be back to see you.’ I give Pockets a pat. ‘Bye.’
Winnie watches me go.
16
Da and Uncle Malachi decide to burn the paddock before we start school. ‘It should dry out more, but best we burn before the rain comes,’ Uncle Malachi says. ‘We’ll warn the Nietschkes that we’re burning so they can keep a look out.’
Da glances up at the sky. I don’t know why he bothers – there’s not a cloud to be seen and never has been since we came. It’s June, and still no rain. Uncle Malachi says it should have come a month ago.
Mam and Elowen and I take the lunches to watch the burning. Harry says they’ve cut a firebreak. ‘See that yard of burned ground all around the paddock?’ I nod. ‘We burned that first so the fire doesn’t get away from us.’ I watch Uncle Malachi pouring kerosene on the first pile of stumps. Then he lights a match. The fire gives a ‘whoof’ like a giant dog and suddenly there’s a wall of fire. It roars and eats through the scrub. I had no idea it would be so big. That will jump Harry’s firebreak for sure. Then it will end up in the scrub where Clarrie and Winnie camp. Da told Nietschkes, but he wouldn’t know about Clarrie. And what about Rouge and Pockets? I have to warn Winnie.
Mam’s watching the fire, her arm around Elowen, and I run around the paddock without her seeing me. I have to go where the fire is headed, to get to their camp before it does.
I run until I get a stitch. I call out. ‘Rouge!’ I even try to sing, but Rouge doesn’t show. What if Clarr
ie’s not here now? He moves a lot. I can see the smoke above the trees. The smell of eucalyptus, the pops of burning sap and the roar of the flames surround me. It’s as if the whole world is burning. I scream for Clarrie and Winnie and Rouge but all I can hear is the fire, coming for me. I don’t know where to hide. I run, hoping I’m racing away from the fire, but I can’t tell any more – there’s so much smoke. I fall over, I get up. I run again, until I can’t breathe and I collapse on the ground. Then I see the red of the flames licking the trees. But the wind is taking it away from me. I cry with the relief – I’d run the right way after all. Only a few fingers of fire come close and I crawl away from the heat. Then I think of Winnie. What if their camp is burned?
‘Kerenza!’
I stand up and wipe the tears from my face. It’s the boys. Harry sees me first. ‘There she is.’
Kitto runs up. ‘You smell of fire.’ All the boys are as black as burnt stumps – only their eyes are alive. My stockings are black too from falling in the scrub.
‘What were you thinking?’ Jacob shouts when he gets close enough. He looks angry enough to hit me.
Harry puts a hand on his arm but Jacob pushes him away. ‘You could have been burnt to a cinder.’ For once he doesn’t sound happy about it. ‘What a stupid gazob. You ran the wrong way.’
‘I know,’ I say quietly.
The boys stare at me. ‘Why?’ Harry asks. He looks like he’s been crying. I’m so sorry.
‘I can’t tell you.’ I think Harry would understand, but I don’t want Jacob to know about Rouge and the pups.
Harry holds my hand. ‘C’mon,’ he says, ‘at least we found you alive.’
Jacob walks on ahead with Kitto, but I can hear him muttering what a silly goose I am.
Harry finds me later crying in the canvas shed with Bobbie snuffling my hair. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’ he asks.
I wipe the back of my hand over my nose and slide it down my pinny. ‘You won’t tell?’
‘Not unless it’s something dangerous.’
That makes me pause. I don’t think Clarrie’s dangerous, but Uncle Malachi and Jacob would. Clarrie’s probably been camping on our land all along.
Kerenza: A New Australian Page 7