After tilling the soil and making furrows, we planted rows and rows of seeds: beans, carrots, beetroot, parsnip, turnips, peas, spinach and pumpkin. We also had to fix the wire around the veggie garden to keep the rabbits out, before we could head off for lunch under the flame trees.
We had our usual lunch of bread, butter and jam, as well as oranges, freshly picked from the orchard. After saying prayers and singing hymns, the four teams who had been working in the veggie garden swapped with those on stock duty, so we made our way to the paddocks with Sister Ambrose.
Henry was already in the sheep paddock, waiting for us. He’s a real farmer who knows everything there is to know about running a farm. ‘We need to crutch the sheep to keep ’em dry, less likely to get fly strike. When we’ve finished crutchin’, we hafta trim their hooves. What we don’t get done this afternoon, we’ll finish off tomorra.’
The morning group had crutched and trimmed the hooves of half the flock and we had to do the other half, so we herded the thirty two sheep into a pen. Henry grabbed a sheep, holding it firmly between his legs.
‘Ya hafta hold ’em firmly but not too tight. It might take two o’ ya to hold ’em down until ya get used to it. I’m not shearin’ all the wool off – just crutchin’ ’er. Watch how I clip the wool from ’round the backside … top o’ the legs … an’ all ’round the tail. Done! Now for the hooves.’ Henry put the shears down and picked up some clippers. ‘First, dig out any dirt between the toes then trim the nail ’round the toe an’ heel, but not too much that ya make ’em bleed. Trim the nail nice an’ flat, but if ya need to smooth it off, ya can use a file.’ Henry finished trimming the other hooves and then pushed the sheep on her way.
Each team had eight sheep, so we took it in turns to crutch our sheep and trim their hooves while Henry and Sister Ambrose watched and gave advice. Two of my teammates had to hold my sheep still, which was no easy task, while I started crutching her. I sheared slowly, being careful not to clip anything that I shouldn’t. Trimming her hooves was just as hard, and I was scared that I was going to trim too much off and make her bleed. My team ran out of time and didn’t get to trim all of our sheep’s hooves. That privilege had to wait another day.
We were five minutes late for milking duty. As I sat on the stool and squeezed my cow’s teats, all I could think about was running up that mountain and getting close enough to touch that moon. It was lucky it wasn’t shower day because we wouldn’t have had time – it was already starting to get dark.
The chicken soup that Mrs Lucas made for dinner had more veggies in it than chicken but tasted great. There were six loaves of freshly baked bread, which didn’t take thirty-two boys very long to demolish. I managed to sneak a slice into my pocket when no-one was watching. Charlie and Pete did the same. There were no Bible stories and hymns around the campfire that night – it was too late. By the time we’d finished washing and wiping up, it was time for bed.
RACING THE MOON
CHAPTER 31
We wore our overalls and jumpers to bed, ready to go. It seemed to take ages for Sister Cornelius to turn off the kerosene lamps and then call out her usual: ‘Good night and God bless.’ As soon as I thought she’d gone, I counted to a hundred then jumped out of bed.
‘What are you doing?’ she called out. She must have been standing there, watching.
‘I just need to use the bucket, Sister.’
‘Hurry up.’ She stood in the doorway waiting for me. ‘Why are you wearing your overalls?’ she asked as I walked past on my way back to bed.
‘I’m cold, Sister.’
‘Take them off before you go to bed.’
I undid my overalls and pretended to take them off before getting into bed. It was dark enough inside the cabin for her not to see exactly what I was doing. This is going to take longer than I thought.
In bed again, I waited impatiently for as long as I could. Sliding onto the floor, I grabbed my case from under the bed and put it on top, pulling my sheet and blanket up over it. Perfect. Then I quietly slid the two newspapers out from under my bed.
Charlie was in the bed next to me. When I squeezed his hand, he slid onto the floor, put his case on the bed and pulled up the covers, just like I’d done. I didn’t need to get Pete – he was already out of bed, waiting for us, clutching the pages we’d torn out of the exercise books.
‘Who’s there?’ Lance called out from his bed at the back of the cabin.
I gave Charlie a nudge. ‘It’s me, Charlie. I hafta take a piss.’
‘Is anyone with ya?’
‘Just me,’ Pete said. I’m bustin’ to go too – must’ve been that chicken soup.’
‘Well, hurry up, I wanna go too,’ Lance replied.
There was only one door in and out of the cabin. I went first, crawling onto the verandah then running to the barn where I waited for Pete and Charlie. I crouched down, looking all around – the coast was clear. I was surprised at how light it was. Looking up, I saw that the full moon was already higher than me – we didn’t have another minute to lose. Pete ran across to the barn first, then Charlie.
‘Let’s go before Lance realises we’ve gone,’ I whispered. I ran as fast as I could down the dirt track, over the second cattle stop, past the orchard and veggie garden then down the narrow track to the creek.
‘Damn it, I forgot about the creek!’ I said, waiting for Charlie and Pete to catch up. ‘There’s no way around – we’ll have to cross it.’ I folded one of the newspapers and put it under my jumper so it wouldn’t get wet. I gave Charlie the other newspaper while Pete shoved the wad of torn pages under his overalls and jumper.
‘I know where there’s a tree fallen across the creek a bit further downstream. I’ll show ya,’ said Charlie. Pete and I followed him along the creek bank to the fallen tree. We rolled up our overalls and walked along the partly submerged log, but it didn’t go all the way across, so we jumped into the water and waded the rest of the way.
We ran back upstream along the creek bank to the start of the mountain track. There was no sign of Lance anywhere. My feet were cold but I was used to going barefoot. I’d toughened up during my last three months at the Farm. ‘There’s my marker – this is the track,’ I said, pointing to a page from my Geography exercise book that I’d stuck on a bush like a flag. There’s no turning back, I thought.
Leading the way through the bush, I was surprised at how noisy it was. Crickets were chirping all around, but not as loudly as the kookaburras that I hoped weren’t laughing at us. I could also hear animals and lizards scurrying away into the bush. It was light enough to see the golden wattle still in flower as well as gum trees and banksias, tangled in a maze of dead lantana and blackberries, which were harder to spot but kept catching on my overalls and jumper. I could hear Charlie’s and Pete’s cries behind me as they got snagged on the lantana and blackberries as well.
Every noise we made seemed louder up there on the mountain. The bush was getting thicker and I could only just see the track. The moon was still higher than us but we were starting to close the gap. There were strange animal noises coming from higher up in the trees. ‘Sounds like a couple of possums having a fight,’ I called out to Pete and Charlie.
‘I reckon they could be matin’,’ Pete said, and we all laughed.
Not looking where I was going, I tripped and fell, landing hard on some sharp rocks.
‘You alright, mate?’ he asked.
‘Just a graze,’ I said, rubbing my bleeding hands on my overalls. I’d also kicked the big toe on my right foot and half the toenail was hanging off. It hurt like hell but I didn’t let on. Nothing was going to stop me from Racing the Moon.
It was getting rockier and steeper, and I had to concentrate really hard to stay on the track, which began to zigzag up the mountainside. Suddenly, there was a rock face in front of me and no way around it. Looking up, I had to feel my way using my hands and feet, finding places in the rock to hold onto and pull myself up. My hands were stinging and my t
oe was killing me, but I kept going. Grabbing onto the top of the ledge, I slipped and almost fell, breaking off bits of rock that hit Charlie on the head.
‘Ow!’ he cried. ‘I don’t think I can do this!’
‘Yes, you can. You’re almost at the ledge,’ I called out, pulling myself up onto the rock. I held out my hand for Charlie to grab onto. He groaned as I pulled and Pete pushed him up onto the ledge. Pete didn’t need any help – he climbed up the rock as if he’d done it a thousand times before.
I climbed up onto a boulder and looked around. The full moon was almost level with my eyes. ‘There’s the moon – let’s go!’
I ran up the winding track through low-lying scrub and into a forest of gum trees but, thankfully, no more lantana or blackberries.
Can’t be too much further, I thought. Feels like we’ve been climbing for hours. It had been a long day and I was getting tired and starting to slow down. It was really hard trying to climb a mountain at night with only the moonlight to help find your way. ‘How’s it going back there?’
‘I’m lovin’ this!’ Pete said.
‘I didn’t like that cliff. I thought I was gunna fall off and break me neck,’ Charlie said, huffing and puffing. He’s a big boy, almost as big as Pete and me put together, and he gets out of breath easily.
Up ahead, through the trees, was a bright circle of light. As I ran towards the moon, I could see that it was still higher than we were, damn it! ‘It’s going to beat us!’ I shouted. Then I heard a loud, cracking sound above me. As I looked up a large branch was breaking off a gum tree. I dived out of the way just in time. It missed me and fell across the track. Pete climbed over it and Charlie followed him.
‘That branch just missed ya by a few inches,’ Pete said.
‘That’s what Henry calls a widow-maker,’ said Charlie.
‘Must be my lucky day,’ I said, taking off again and following the track along the edge of the cliff. Part of the rock face up ahead was darker than the rest. As I got closer, I saw that it was the opening to a cave. ‘This must be the cave that Lance was talking about – the one with the Aboriginal rock paintings. We can take a look on the way back.’
After climbing up some rocks and another steep section of the track, I looked across and saw that I was finally level with the moon. It spurred me on and I started to run. It didn’t take long until I was up higher than it was.
Nothing can stop me now, I thought. Drunk with excitement, I ran up a rocky slope, jumping from one rock to the next, some slippery with moss. It then got so steep that I had to climb on all fours. Scrambling up onto a clearing, I could finally see the end in sight. I ran over rocks and low-lying scrub, racing the moon to the top of the mountain, drawn by that magical ball of light. ‘I did it!’ I shouted. Pete arrived next then Charlie came a few minutes later.
‘We beat the moon, we did it!’ Jumping up and down with joy, we cheered and whistled, hugging each other.
The moon was shining right in front of us – I felt like I could almost reach out and touch it. I could even see its craters – they didn’t look like a man’s face at all. Looking down, I saw that a light was on in the main house of the Farm but could only just make out the caretaker’s cottage where Henry and Mrs Lucas lived on the far side of the barn.
‘The nuns are up late,’ I said.
‘Do ya think they’ve found out we’re gone?’ Pete asked.
I looked around, checking for any other lights and movement. ‘I don’t think so. They’re probably still up saying their prayers,’ I said, confidently.
We sat on top of the mountain, eating bread and telling ghost stories. When we couldn’t think of any more scary stories, we started telling jokes instead. I went first: ‘What’s brown and white, brown and white, brown and white, brown and white?’
‘A cow?’ said Charlie.
‘No – a nun rolling down the hill. Ha, ha, ha!’ How we laughed at our stupid jokes, and didn’t notice the moon disappearing behind the clouds that had been building up, until the sky was dark – too dark to see – too dark to make our way back. We collected sticks and branches, breaking them up to make a fire, then scrunched up some of the newspaper from under our jumpers, putting it in the pile of sticks. I lit the paper with the matches I’d stolen from the kitchen. As soon as the fire was burning hot, we threw on a couple of bigger branches to keep it going.
‘It’s too dangerous to go down the mountain in the dark,’ I said, happy to have an excuse to stay there all night. ‘But we’ll have to wake up early and get back in time for milking duty. We’ll keep warmer if we stay close to the fire and closer together.’ Then we sat around the fire, reliving every moment of our amazing journey.
The last thing I remember before falling asleep was watching the glowing embers of the dying fire as I snuggled into Charlie’s back, and Pete snuggled into mine to keep warm.
WAKING UP
CHAPTER 32
In the damp, dim light of early morning I began to stir. Judging by Henry’s rooster that I could hear crowing back at the Farm, it was only about five o’clock. Charlie was out like a light – it takes more than a rooster to wake him up. But I couldn’t see Pete anywhere.
‘Pete?’ There was no answer. I stood up, looking all around. ‘Cooee!’ I called out, my voice echoing through the mountain air, setting off the kookaburras on their early morning laughing session. I waited for Pete’s reply but there was none, so I tried again. Still nothing.
‘What’s up?’ Charlie asked, sleepily.
‘I can’t find Pete,’ I replied, looking around for some sign of him, something to indicate he’d been there, but I couldn’t find anything.
Charlie and I searched the mountain top together, but there was no sign of Pete. Two gunshots rang out, echoing all around. Probably Henry shooting rabbits in the veggie garden, I thought.
I went to the edge of the cliff and looked down. It was the opposite side of the mountain to the Farm. Water was flowing over a rock ledge, through the mist and into the creek below – it was the waterfall that Pete and I had swum under. On the far side of the creek, there was something lying on the grass, but I couldn’t make out what it was. Probably a log that washed up, I thought.
Charlie and I headed back down the mountain track, looking for Pete at every turn. The rocks were slippery and, at times, I could only see a couple of yards in front because the mist was so thick. Following the track along the edge of the cliff, I kept looking down and almost lost my balance a couple of times. When the track stopped suddenly, I had to slide down onto the ledge below. As I waited for Charlie to catch up, I was getting impatient and more and more worried about Pete.
I went down another steep section, sliding on my bum most of the way, then followed the narrow track to the cave that we’d found on the way up. ‘Cooee!’ I called. There was a long echo but no reply. I went in a bit further, but it was too dark to see anything. When I came back out, I met up with Charlie who was looking over the ledge.
‘What’s that?’ he said, pointing at what looked like somebody lying on the grass next to the creek.
I took off again, following the track around the cliff and down through the forest of gum trees, jumping over the large branch that had fallen and just missed me the night before. I scrambled down the mountain as fast as I could, not always keeping to the winding track. I slid down the big rock face that we’d climbed up before, landing hard and very close to the edge of the cliff. My body was aching but I kept going. I left the track, pushing my way past lantana and blackberry bushes, jumping and sliding over rocks, taking the shortest possible route down to the creek. I splashed my way through the icy-cold water and then stopped.
In the early morning light, I could see the mop of brown hair that I knew so well. It was Pete. I think I’d known it up on the mountain – I just didn’t want to believe it. I knelt down and touched his cold, damp hair.
‘G’day mate, where have ya been?’
I fell back in fright as if I’d been p
ushed. ‘Jesus, you scared the living daylights out of me! You’re alive, you bastard!’
‘Sure am,’ Pete said, sitting up, stretching and yawning.
‘What are you doing all the way down here?’ I asked.
‘I needed t’ave a piss, but it was too dark to see where I was goin’. Got worried I might fall off the cliff like Billy did, so I crawled around on me hands an’ knees until I found a safe spot. There I was havin’ a piss, when I heard this terrible screechin’ – sounded like animals tryin’ to kill each other. When I saw the yellow eyes – real evil they were, just like me stepdad’s – I bolted. I fell over a few times, but apart from that, I didn’t stop until I reached the creek.’
‘You’re a lucky bugger, you know that?’ I said, putting my arm around him. I looked up at the mountain, watching as it broke through the mist. ‘I can’t believe we climbed all the way to the top. Look at the size of it!’
‘I thought ya were dead!’ Charlie called out, running towards us. There was a bright-yellow crescent of light rising up through the trees behind him.
‘The sun’s coming up!’ I shouted.
We ran back up the dirt track, past the charcoal pits, orchard and veggie garden, took a short cut through the flame trees to miss the cattle stop, and then crossed the track, running into the barn as fast as we could, even though we knew we were already late for milking duty.
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