by A B Facey
I thanked Charlie and Mrs Bibby for the raise in my wages and told them how pleased I was and how happy I felt. Charlie said how sorry he was about getting drunk and that it wouldn’t happen again. He said that they hadn’t seen Mr Mutton for about four years and made the mistake of drinking wine and whisky with beer. He finished by saying, ‘It cost us dearly.’
Burning-off season opened and several neighbours came to help put the fire through the chopped and burnt down timber like they had helped Frank the year before. When one of our neighbours wanted help with putting a fire through, we always helped them. This co-operation went on with all the new settlers, and they used to meet at each other’s places from time to time to discuss and exchange ideas on farming, clearing, fencing and stock. My uncle was the one who gave advice on all kinds of stock and stock sickness.
That burning season, Charlie had what was known as a ‘good burn’. This term was used when the undergrowth, scrub and timber burnt freely and left only the large logs and stumps. We then started on the clearing. Charlie and I worked hard and long hours six days a week from the middle of February through to the end of the first week in April. During that period we cleared the one hundred and thirty acres that we had chopped and burnt down during the previous August, September and October.
Just after the clearing was finished we had a storm with heavy rains. This softened the ground and Charlie started ploughing the new land. He had bought a disc plough which was better for working new land and was much quicker than a stump-jump plough. A disc plough could also be used for working up land that had long grass or straw on it. It was driven with six horses and covered a strip four feet eight inches wide, which was more than twice as much as a three-furrow stump-jump plough.
During ploughing and putting in the crop, my job was looking after the stock and picking up any roots pulled up by the plough. I would cart these to the house as they made good firewood.
The only time we worked on Sundays was harvest time. I had Sundays off at other times, except I had to look after the stock, and fill up the wood-box in the kitchen for Mrs Bibby. I never had any young people to play with apart from an occasional trip over to Uncle’s to see Grandma. On these visits I would always join in games with my cousins. Otherwise I had no young company, so I used to take my rifle and walk in the bush. Sometimes I got a shot at a ’roo and many times I would find a quiet spot and sit down and keep quiet and watch the birds and the small animals.
The birds used to fascinate me. There were so many different kinds and most of them were friends of the farmer. The bush in those days was alive with them, their beautiful noises were something you had to hear to believe.
The martin sparrow went in packs of hundreds; it lived on small insects and made its nest in hollow limbs of large trees. It was very pretty, about the size of a canary, and had a black head, brown feathers along the sides and back, light grey underneath its body and around the neck, and bright brown under its wings. When flying, its tail-feathers were spread like a small hawk.
Then there was the willy wagtail, which had a black head and back and a white underbody – a very lively little bird with a long wedged tail. The blue wren was a small bird with a beautiful blue body. And there was the little brown and grey torn tit. There were hundreds of these, flitting in and out of the scrub and bushes. The woodpecker was bigger than the wagtail and would run up any tree by digging its sharp claws into the wood.
There were hundreds of the common magpie, and also the groundlark, a small grey and light brown bird that wouldn’t sit on a tree, but flew from ground to ground. The brown bush quail was also a ground to ground bird. The bronze-winged pigeon lived on seeds and such like and was good to eat – it was half the size of a chicken. The robin red breast was a very pretty little bird with a scarlet red marking on its breast. The peewit was a light brown bird with some black streakings on its back and wings, and a white breast marked with a U-shaped black half circle.
The plover was the same size as the peewit and had much the same markings but it was a ground to ground bird. It had a cunning way of concealing its nest out in an open patch of cleared ground. The nest and eggs looked the same colour as the ground – you could walk on the nest without knowing. The blue bird was about the size of the peewit too, but had a black head and a very light blue body. This bird was sometimes called a storm bird on account of it appearing more frequently just before the weather turned stormy. It had a very beautiful whistle-like call. There was also the parakeet which always flew in large mobs. It had pretty colouring – green, brown and red – and resembled a parrot but was very small like a canary.
There were also the night birds such as the curlew – a ground bird with extra long legs – and the owl, which lived on bush mice and rats. Also the mo-poke, which had much the same habits as the owl. There were also large flocks of black cockatoos, always making a terrible noise. They were a very large bird and the noise they made was deafening, particularly when in flight.
There were many other birds which were the enemy of the farmer. These included the ring neck parrot, which was also known as the ‘twenty-eight’, and was one of the most beautiful birds to look at. The name twenty-eight came from the noise it made when frightened and flying from danger. It was most destructive on cereal crops and fruit. Another parrot, smaller and of different markings, was the rosella. This bird was also destructive on cereal crops and fruit, as was the jay bird.
There were also two small species of birds that were destructive. One was the silver eye, a small bird about the size of a torn tit, grey with silver coloured rings around its eyes. It lived on flowers, sucking the honey or nectar out, and also on fruit. It was very damaging to grapes or any fruit near ripe. The other small bird was the green eye. This was dusty green in colour and had the same habits as the silver eye.
There were, and are, many other varieties that are hard to describe. They made the bush a beautiful place and helped one forget about loneliness.
The wild animals were also quite a study for anyone who had to live with them, and sat quietly to watch their habits. They lived in a world of fear and danger, always watching, listening and smelling for some scent of trouble.
The birds and animals of the bush were all great company and very nice to see and hear. I loved the bush.
Charlie finished ploughing the new land and then started on ploughing the land that had been cropped the year before. He then did the seeding, finishing at the end of the third week in June.
After seeding, Charlie and Mrs Bibby went away for a fortnight’s holiday, leaving me in charge of the farm and stock. They drove to Narrogin by horse and sulky, and took a train to Perth.
Charlie told me before he went that he had some business to attend to in Perth, and Mrs Bibby wanted to do some shopping. He said, ‘All you have to do while we are away is look after everything. Never mind anything else. You are the general manager while we are away.’ Mrs Bibby cooked me plenty of food before they went and she told me to have lots of eggs. When the meat she had left was finished I was to go over to the neighbour’s place about four miles away. She had arranged for the woman there to supply me with whatever I wanted in the way of bread and meat. She said I could ride over on Prince. He was a very quiet horse and I used to ride him around the farm sometimes.
So, with these instructions, they set off on their much-needed holiday. I felt very proud of myself – my fourteenth birthday wasn’t until the next month but they had enough confidence in me to leave me to look after their possessions. I was a little scared at first, but soon settled to doing the daily chores. At night I used to roam around with my rifle and make sure everything was safe. I even put an extra wire around the sheep gate in case the dingoes troubled them.
20
THE CATTLE THIEF
The weather became very wet about four days after the Bibbys left, and it rained every day for over a week. We had had some beautiful sunshine; the crops had all come up and were looking lovely.
I
felt very lonely at times, although when the Bibbys were at home, I only spoke to them at meal times or at work. I could not read or write and there wasn’t any music, not even a gramophone. This made the nights seem extra long.
On the morning of the twelfth day I got up at daylight, and looking over towards the new land that had a nice crop growing, I saw about sixty head of cattle grazing. This puzzled me, as we hadn’t seen any cattle around other than our own. I chased them away, but I had no sooner got back to the house than they were back again. So after feeding the pigs and fowls, I got Prince in and saddled him, then rode across again to chase the cattle off. This time I took my rifle with me. I thought if I fired a few shots into the air, it would frighten them into not coming back again.
I put Prince into a canter heading straight towards the cattle, and when I considered I was close enough, I fired two quick shots into the air. Wow! I didn’t expect what I got. The cattle bolted towards the bush where they had come from, and Prince jumped sideways throwing me heavily onto the ground. Then he bolted back to the stable. My rifle was thrown to the ground and was covered with thick, red, wet earth.
I picked myself up. I wasn’t hurt but felt a little shaken. The cattle had all cleared out – the shots had done the job. I picked up my rifle and I was about to walk back to the house, when I heard a man on horseback coming towards me. He rode up to me and said, ‘What in the hell do you think you’re doing?’ I said that I was chasing the cattle off the crop. He replied, ‘Who gave you permission to shoot my cattle?’ I replied, ‘I fired the shots into the air to frighten them off.’ He yelled, ‘Like hell you did. There’s two lying dead over the hill.’ I said, ‘I couldn’t have fired the shots that killed them. I fired into the air, then my horse threw me off.’ He came towards me saying, ‘You shot them, you little stinker. I’ll learn you a lesson.’ He started to unwind a large stock-whip. Seeing this, I quickly brought my rifle up to my shoulder and called out, ‘Don’t come any closer if you want to live.’ I must have looked like I meant it because he stopped, turned his horse around and said, ‘You will be hearing more of this.’ He rode off towards where the cattle had gone.
I walked back to the stable where Prince was waiting for me. He was frightened and went to run away, so I put the rifle down and went over to him, catching hold of the bridle. He smelt me and became his old, quiet self again.
I looked after the sheep and cows and went inside to get some breakfast. While eating my breakfast I wondered how this man could blame me for killing two of his cattle. It was only a few minutes from when I fired the shots until he appeared, and he said that his cattle were dead over the hill. This puzzled me. I felt scared but I was sure that I had fired the shots into the air and away from the cattle. I got the rifle and looked into the magazine – there were still four cartridges left and I remembered that there had been six in it. I hadn’t put any more in the rifle.
After awhile I was even surer that I hadn’t killed the cattle. The only thing I had done wrong was point the rifle at the man and threaten him to warn him. It was the sight of the whip that made me point the rifle at him.
The cattle never came back and late that evening I went to see if there were any dead cattle as the man had said. I walked around the crop to where the cattle had rushed off and it was easy to follow their tracks. I followed them for about a mile but there was no sign of any dead animals. I came home satisfied that the man was not telling the truth. I felt so much better. The man hadn’t wanted to see my boss or asked for any payment for the cattle, so I thought that perhaps they didn’t belong to him but had been stolen. What had gone on at Cave Rock came back to me. They must have been stolen cattle and the man was herding them until he got a chance to sell them.
The next few days were free from trouble – the cattle didn’t come back and the Bibbys returned home. They had been away sixteen days altogether. When they found that everything was okay, they made a fuss of me, and they both had bought me a present while in Perth. Mrs Bibby gave me a lovely tweed suit. When I tried it on it fitted me fine, but was a little too big. This was all right because, as Mrs Bibby said, ‘You are growing, Bert, and it is better to be able to grow into it than out of it.’ Charlie bought me a mouth organ. I couldn’t play it but he said I could try and it would probably help to break the monotony at nights.
I told them about the cattle and about firing the shots to scare them – I didn’t leave out a thing – and they seemed amazed at the man’s attitude and at his threat about me ‘hearing more about it’. Charlie said I had done just as he would have done. He said, ‘I can just see you when he came at you with the whip. Don’t worry any more about it. The little time that the cattle were in the crop won’t do it much harm.’ The Bibbys told me all about Perth and how they had enjoyed their holidays.
About two days later, Charlie and I set about fencing in the new land to prevent any more cattle grazing on the crop. The land that had been cropped the year before was fully fenced, so we only had the mile or so of the new land to enclose.
It was while we were doing this fencing that we discovered the dead cows the man had spoken of. The wind was blowing from some thick scrub about half a mile away from where we were working and we were overpowered by a terrible stink. We decided to investigate and found the two dead cows. Charlie said he thought they had been dead for about three weeks. We examined them for any brands but were unable to find any. Then Charlie and I looked for bullet marks or wounds. Charlie suggested that we leave the cows there and say nothing about it for awhile and see if anyone had been troubled with stray stock. Most of the new settlers hadn’t fenced their crops.
One evening, a week later, we had a visitor. The dogs barked and ran to the gate leading into the house yard. I went to see who or what was making the dogs bark so viciously, and as I neared the gate a voice said, ‘Good evening, sir. May I come in?’ I opened the gate and saw that the visitor was a policeman. He asked, ‘Is Mr Bibby home?’ I said, ‘Yes, sir. Tie your horse to the fence and come in. He is inside.’ We both went inside and as soon as Charlie saw the policeman he called, ‘Hello, what has brought you here?’ They shook hands and Mrs Bibby also shook hands and asked him if he would like something to eat. The policeman said that he would, and if it wasn’t asking too much, he would like to stay the night to rest his horse. Charlie told the policeman he was most welcome and they would be pleased for him to stay the night.
When I came inside again after tending to the policeman’s horse, Charlie said to me, This is Constable West from Narrogin. He is making enquiries about the cattle you chased off the crop. He would like you to tell him what the man looked like and describe the cattle and how many you think there were.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘the man was sitting on a fairly heavy, dark-bay horse with a white blaze running down from near the top of its head to its nose, about two inches wide. It also had one white leg from the hoof to the knee on the right side. I noticed this because the man was riding towards me and he was holding the whip in his right hand – the same side as the white leg of the horse. The man was wearing a rather wide-brimmed felt hat and he had a dark raincoat on with a kind of cape. He had rather a long moustache but the bottom part of his face was shaved, and he also had sharp features and rather a long nose. He wore riding boots and spurs. The cattle would be between fifty and sixty head. They were red and white, bay, and some were black-and-white. There was a lot of young cattle about one year old, some calves. I noticed that four or five of the older cows had no horns – I think they’re called polled cattle.’ The policeman asked me what time it had happened. I replied, ‘About seven thirty in the morning.’ He then said, ‘Could you describe his voice?’ I said, ‘Yes, it was a fairly loud voice, clear and sharp.’ He thanked me and said that I was very observant and helpful to him.
I noticed that he was writing down everything I said on a sheet of paper while I was talking. He read it over to himself and said that that would do fine. Then, turning to Charlie, he said, ‘Could you get the boy in
to Narrogin tomorrow? We would like to get a positive identification and this lad can do it for us, I’m sure.’ Mrs Bibby said she could drive me to Wickepin in the morning and I could go from there to Narrogin in the afternoon with the mailman. The Constable said that he would see that I got home safely.
Charlie asked him how he found out about the cattle as none of us had mentioned it to anyone. ‘Well,’ the policeman said, ‘it’s strange how things get around. A new settler living near by had much the same trouble with cattle. A man came to the scene and made threats and said that a cocky (meaning settler) kid a few miles south-west of there had taken two shots at him with a rifle and shot two of his cattle. He also said that as soon as he could get in to the police he would make it bad for that cocky. This settler came in to Narrogin the next day and asked us what action the man could take, if any, against him for using a shot-gun on his cattle. When we questioned the settler he told us about this lad of yours who had a reputation with a rifle, so that brought me here to you. We caught up with the cattle herder and all the cattle had been stolen from settlers over a wide area north of here. He’s been working south hoping to get near enough to a town with a sale-yard to sell them. Acting on the settler’s report, we picked him up about twenty miles south-east of Narrogin, day before yesterday. This settler will also be in Narrogin tomorrow to identify the man. The description your lad and the settler gave are very much the same.’
Charlie told the policeman about the two dead cows we had found. He said that he would have a look at them tomorrow and see what he could make of it. Charlie told him that we couldn’t find any wounds on them and he thought they might have got some poison. There was a poison bush called York Road Poison east of Bibby’s and two or three mouthfuls would be sufficient to kill a cow. The policeman said, ‘You show me in the morning and I’ll take a sample from each of their stomachs and send it to be analysed. Then we will know for sure.’ With that everyone went to bed.