The Silent Frontier

by Peter Watt

  Lachlan placed his axe against the log. He knew that the soldier in charge of the detail would not object to him speaking to the company commander’s sister for a brief moment.

  Lachlan caught his eye, ‘Permission to take a break?’ he asked and the soldier in charge nodded.

  ‘Get back to work,’ he barked at the rest of the men gawking at the beautiful young woman.

  Reluctantly, they did so as Lachlan quickly put on his shirt and accompanied Amanda towards the stand of trees. When they were sufficiently far enough away, Amanda was the first to speak.

  ‘My brother told me of your fate in the last few weeks,’ she said. ‘It distressed me to hear that you had been flogged.’

  ‘For something I was not guilty of,’ Lachlan replied bitterly. ‘But it is over now and the wounds will heal.’

  Amanda stopped walking and turned to Lachlan. ‘I feel that I am to blame for your misfortune,’ she said in a trembling voice. ‘I feel that you would not be here if it weren’t for me.’

  A savage smile came to Lachlan’s face. ‘You think I would not be prepared to receive a thousand lashes just to be in your company?’ he said, looking down into her face. ‘I cannot tell you that I love you as we do not know each other that well, but from the moment I first saw you I have been able to think of no one else.’

  ‘Oh, Lachlan, your words are beautiful – but you must forget me,’ she said, impulsively touching his cheek with her fingers. ‘We are of different worlds, you and I. I know it is my duty to be courted by one with means – despite any personal feelings that I may hold.’

  ‘For me, you mean?’

  ‘If I answer your question I may give you false hope,’ Amanda said. ‘It may be that my feelings for you are the same as yours for me. You are like no man I have ever met before. You are strong, gentle and brave, but that alone does not sustain a life between a man and a woman.’

  ‘Wealth and ambition are the answers,’ Lachlan said with a bitter, short laugh. ‘I am but a poor young man but I do at least have ambition. One day the world will know of my exploits as an explorer, then you may see me in another light.’

  ‘You will earn land at the end of your enlistment,’ Amanda said lamely. ‘That is a start.’

  ‘I am not a farmer,’ Lachlan replied. ‘I lived my life roaming with a wonderful man on the dusty tracks of the colonies of Victoria and New South Wales. What beckons to me is the colony of Queensland. If only you could wait for me to achieve the fame and fortune I seek, I could show you that my ambition makes me worthy of earning your love.’

  Amanda did not reply. She could see that he was ambitious but whether he made his dream come true was another matter. For now he was in the middle of a war and had to survive that before he could advance his hopes.

  ‘So, why did you come here to see me?’ Lachlan asked after a short silence between them.

  ‘I . . . ’ Amanda dared not answer.

  ‘This may cost me another session at the triangle,’ he said. ‘But it will be worth it.’

  Before Amanda could react, Lachlan leaned forward, kissing her on the mouth. The kiss was returned and Amanda felt that she might faint, such was the beautiful shock of this intimate contact with the young soldier. She did not resist and when he broke the moment she wished he had not. The kiss lingered.

  ‘I think that you should go,’ he said quietly knowing that his act had been observed by some of the men in the wood-chopping detail. ‘Your brother would not approve of you being seen in the company of common soldiers.’

  ‘Lachlan, I . . . ’

  Lachlan reached out to touch Amanda on the cheek with great tenderness. ‘You do not have to say anything. Just promise that you will not forget me.’

  Tears welled in Amanda’s eyes. ‘I promise. I will wait for you forever, my love. I will write every day to you – no matter where you may be,’ she whispered and turned to walk away lest she burst into a fit of sobbing.

  Lachlan watched her walk away towards the camp. ‘I will come back to you, one day,’ he said quietly, his soul soaring with the echoing words of her promise to him. ‘And when I do, the whole world will know.’

  Lachlan walked back to the detail and picked up his axe. Not one of the men said a word.

  THIRTEEN

  Private Lachlan MacDonald stood to attention, a cool breeze whipping scudding clouds overhead. Beside him he gripped the barrel of his new .537 Terry carbine and at his right hip was a holstered .44 five-shot Deane-Adams revolver. On the opposite hip in its sheath was a finely honed Bowie knife, and on his head a pill-box cap with the badge of the Forest Rangers. His blue jacket was crossed with leather straps to hold the haversack mounted high on his shoulders. He wore knee-length boots, which actually fitted, as Michael Duffy had friends in the Quartermaster’s office where uniform was issued.

  The Forest Rangers were the eyes of the army, scouting for enemy positions, ambushing Maori war parties and protecting vulnerable supply lines from attack. Many of the regular British officer staff referred to the Rangers as colonial scum, considering them ill-disciplined, even if they were invaluable in this war which was being fought deep in the thickets of the New Zealand bush.

  Captain Gustavus Ferdinand von Tempsky personally reviewed his company and Lachlan was impressed by his new commander. He was a tall, well-built former Prussian regular soldier who had fought in the guerrilla war against the Spanish army in Nicaragua, before coming to New Zealand to dig for gold. He was also an excellent artist and author who had travelled the world in his search for adventure. He had dark hair almost to his shoulders and a neatly kept moustache curling to the edge of his mouth. Lachlan could see how the handsome man might make women swoon but he was also popular with his men. They would have followed him into hell had he asked it of them.

  Lachlan had seen an increase in pay since transferring to the Von’s company. He was now being paid three shillings and sixpence per day and also was entitled to a double issue of rum. The camaraderie amongst the men also impressed him. It had not been easy to transfer but Lachlan had come to learn that there was a special bond between Michael Duffy and the Von.

  ‘The natives call Von Tempsky manu-rau,’ a Pakeha soldier had told Lachlan when he first arrived at the company. ‘It means many birds, as the Maori say he is everywhere in the bush.’ The soldier had lived for some time amongst the Maori people and was known as a Pakeha Maori. But he was just the kind of man the Von sought for his company of rangers; he knew the bush and he knew the Maori they now fought.

  Lachlan instantly felt at home with his new comrades but his pleasure was tempered when he heard that his old friend Andrew Hume had been discharged from the militia because of his severe head injury. Lachlan might have saved his life, but Andrew was now prone to fits. The blow had done its damage and Lachlan had bid his friend a farewell before leaving the militia to join the Rangers. As far as Lachlan knew now, Andrew would return to the Australian colonies and travel on to Queensland to resume his life as a surveyor. He had been discharged with honourable mentions and would be employed by the new Queensland government for the service he had rendered in uniform for the Queen.

  The parade was over and the Rangers dismissed to their quarters. ‘Ranger MacDonald,’ Michael Duffy called to Lachlan. ‘Report to me.’

  Lachlan shouldered his carbine and marched smartly to where Michael was standing alone on the parade ground.

  ‘How are you settling in?’ Michael asked warmly.

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Lachlan replied. ‘This is a lot better than being in Lightfoot’s command.’

  ‘You might not be thanking me in the next few weeks,’ Michael grinned. ‘We have orders to go bush again in the next few days. That will mean a lot of wet, sleepless nights stalking the Maori in his own territory. It is not like the militia where you return to a warm and dry stockade each night.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Lachlan replied. ‘I feel that what is ahead will prepare me for the life of an explor
er when I eventually return to Australia.’

  Michael shook his head. ‘You have to survive this war first,’ he chuckled. ‘But I have to give you marks for your enthusiasm. Well, it is time to get some rest and hot food. So, join the men.’

  Lachlan left Duffy, known to all as Sergeant Michael O’Flynn. When Lachlan felt self-pity for his own situation he only had to remind himself that Michael had lost much more than a woman in his life. He had lost his whole family and any hope of returning to Australia without fear of arrest on the false charge of murder.

  ‘It was brought to my attention only today that you were seen to be acting in a somewhat common way with Private MacDonald some three weeks ago,’ Charles Lightfoot ranted at his sister in the privacy of his cottage.

  ‘I kissed him,’ Amanda replied mildly. ‘It was simply a sign of affection for the courage you told me he displayed.’ She sat in her usual chair with her embroidery before the open fire.

  ‘Is that all it was?’ Lightfoot questioned, only partially satisfied with his sister’s explanation. ‘If I thought that he had forced himself on you I ‘would have him immediately arrested and flogged to within an inch of his life.’

  ‘No, dear brother,’ Amanda frowned. ‘It was I who delivered the token of my respect for his sterling service to the Queen,’ Amanda persisted. ‘If you have him arrested I promise that you will never see me again.’

  ‘You sound as if you may be more than fond of the man,’ Lightfoot said suspiciously.

  ‘I am eighteen, old enough to know my own feelings,’ Amanda said. ‘It was nothing more than affection.’

  ‘I will accept your word on the matter,’ Lightfoot concluded but he now regretted allowing MacDonald to transfer to the Rangers. If he still had him in his command he was sure that Sergeant Samuel Forster would have some devious means of having the man put under arrest and suffer a spell in prison. Locked away, he would no longer be able to see Amanda. At least he could console himself that the life of a Forest Ranger was fraught with much danger and that the Maori warriors might just dispose of MacDonald once and for all. He could not afford his sister to fall in love with a commoner – when he had visions of marrying her off to Sir Percival Sparkes.

  The ship dipped and rose in the heavy swells of the Tasman Sea. John had decided he would get some fresh air in an attempt to ward off seasickness and stood at the bow, gripping the rails. The steamer chugged and puffed to fight the seas in the night while the wind moaned in the rigging.

  ‘I thought I would find you here,’ Nicholas said, making his way carefully along the deck to grip the rails beside John.

  ‘I needed the air and a chance to think,’ John replied, staring into the darkness where horizon and sea met.

  ‘Are you still worried about your brother’s reaction if you find him?’ Nicholas asked.

  ‘That, and what I can do to fulfil my promise,’ John said. ‘If this Captain Lightfoot is one and the same as the man who murdered my father and brother, robbing my father at the same time, I do not know how I will exact revenge.’

  ‘There are many forms of punishment,’ Nicholas said. ‘One does not have to kill one’s enemy to punish him.’

  John turned to glance at Nicholas, who was also staring out to sea. ‘Possibly you could explain,’ he said.

  ‘Well, I doubt that you are acquainted with the use of duelling weapons, so you have to use some other means to inflict the vengeance your Gaelic blood cries out for. Find a weakness in your enemy – and exploit it.’

  ‘Your explanation is still couched in vague terms,’ John continued.

  ‘For example,’ Nicholas said, ‘you are now a man of considerable means and that brings power. It has always been my experience that a man’s greatest weakness is the woman in his life or his financial interests. Taking either one has the possibility of destroying him.’

  John laughed. ‘I doubt that I might take any woman from Lightfoot,’ he said, ‘considering who I am.’

  ‘Then it must be his wealth,’ Nicholas said. ‘Destroy him financially and watch him rot in poverty.’

  John liked the idea of seeing the man who had murdered his father and brother in dire financial circumstances. But how could that be achieved? he pondered. As if to answer his unspoken question, Nicholas spoke.

  ‘Lightfoot does not know of my connection to you,’ he said. ‘I think when we arrive I should set up circumstances to befriend your enemy, gain his trust and let our combined power destroy him.’

  ‘How will you do that?’ John asked, his respect for the man in his life heightened by the way he was able to plot such schemes. He had witnessed how shrewd Nicholas had been in dealing with people in their business and had no doubt that he was capable of carrying out his plan – whatever it might be.

  ‘You must trust me,’ Nicholas said. ‘Our contracts with the army in New Zealand mean I have contact with some very important people, both in the army commissariat and the government. No doubt I will be able to use them to get to Captain Lightfoot. Now, I think it is time that we joined the captain’s table for a hand of cards. I am feeling lucky tonight.’

  It was Lachlan who was first alerted to the extreme danger Michael Duffy might be in. He had been sitting with his new comrades from the Rangers outside their tents, smoking pipes, chatting and playing cards. They had been preparing for an operation into the dark forests of the Maori-held territory to seek out enemy positions and now they had some time off to relax.

  A new recruit to the Rangers sat near Lachlan, puffing on a pipe and staring hard at Michael Duffy standing a distance away conversing with Von Tempsky.

  ‘I know that man,’ he said to the soldier beside him. ‘He used to fight in Sydney.’

  Lachlan froze when he overheard the comment. ‘But he wasn’t O’Flynn then,’ the new soldier continued. ‘His name was Michael Duffy and he was wanted by the Sydney traps for murder. Last I heard when I left Sydney was that he was still wanted for the murder and there was a reward for his arrest.’

  Lachlan did not know how to react. Should he scoff at the new man’s suggestion or simply ignore it, hoping that none of the others around them had taken any notice.

  ‘I doubt that Sergeant O’Flynn is this man Duffy you are talking about,’ the corporal with them said. ‘He is a bloody good soldier and a good man. I’d say you got it wrong and if you know what is good for you, you will not go about making such accusations again.’ The new man’s statement had been met with some hostility from the rest of his comrades as well and Lachlan realised just how much respect the men had for Michael. He decided to wait until he could speak to Michael alone later that day and at last came across him beside the cookhouse where the army butchers had a carcass hanging on a hook from a tree.

  ‘Michael,’ Lachlan said when he had caught the Irishman’s attention, ‘a new man to the company has recognised you,’ he said.

  Michael sucked in his breath and frowned. ‘It has always been something I knew would catch up with me,’ he replied. ‘New Zealand is too close to Sydney.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Lachlan asked.

  ‘I have wondered that myself,’ Michael replied, casting around him to ensure they could not be overheard. ‘The Von knows who I am, and about the situation in Sydney. I think it is time that I moved on.’

  ‘No doubt easier said than done,’ Lachlan offered, surprised that their commander knew about Michael’s real identity. ‘Especially since we go bush tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I will have a word to the Von,’ Michael said. ‘It is time to disappear.’

  ‘If I can help,’ Lachlan said, offering his hand, ‘all you have to do is ask.’

  ‘I thank you, Lachlan MacDonald,’ Michael responded. ‘We will see.’

  John and Nicholas arrived in the port of Auckland and could immediately see the signs of war. All around them in the streets of the large town were red-coated soldiers, wagons full of war supplies and even Maori auxiliaries dressed in the uniform of the British
army.

  Nicholas had been astute enough to arrange accommodation for them before they left Sydney. Such arrangements were vital in a town now crowded with farmers and families from the edges of the frontier, parts of which were controlled by the hostile Maori forces.

  Although not fancy, the hotel’s accommodation was comfortable and the food relatively good. John and Nicholas took separate rooms and settled in. When they were established, Nicholas went in search of men who until now had been simply names on contracts and invoices. His first contact was a captain from the commissariat supplying the army.

  For John, his first contact was the British army headquarters to try to locate his brother. He was fortunate that a roll of all men enlisted for pay purposes was kept. It was not long before a clerk ran his finger down a roll of the Waikato militia to find Private Lachlan MacDonald, enlisted from Sydney.

  ‘Last known posting was at Drury in Captain Lightfoot’s company,’ the clerk said. ‘But our rolls take time to be amended in the event of transfers.’

  John thanked the man and returned to the hotel.

  ‘Lachlan is definitely a soldier in Lightfoot’s command,’ John said glumly.

  ‘How convenient, you get to find your brother and meet your enemy all at the same time,’ Nicholas responded with a faint smile.

  ‘It is a queer coincidence,’ John replied. ‘I do not feel easy about the matter of Lachlan being in the command of the man who murdered our father and brother.’

  ‘It might be wiser if I went to Drury to seek out your brother, in that case,’ Nicholas said. ‘It would not help my plans to have Charles Lightfoot meet with the man ultimately to be responsible for his downfall.’

  John agreed.

  ‘I will make arrangements to travel to Drury tomorrow,’ Nicholas continued. ‘In the meantime, you could use the time to visit some influential people I have met over here and seek out any possible ventures that we may turn a pretty penny on. War always has a market for items we take for granted.’