Heart of the Country

by Tricia Stringer

  Thomas looked back at Gulda. His chest had stopped heaving. Thomas pointed to the shade of the verandah and called Lizzie to bring some water. The April sun wasn’t as intense as in summer but the heat was still oppressive.

  Lizzie brought a drink for both of them. She raised an enquiring eyebrow at Thomas as Gulda drained the cup but she didn’t speak. Joseph was at her side, clean and wearing clothes.

  “Now,” Thomas said. “Tell me about Terrett.”

  Gulda gave the empty cup back to Lizzie with a nod of thanks and immediately began waving his arms about. “He said black men stole your sheep. They didn’t, Mr Tom. I saw signs around the waterhole. Many sheep came there and horses herd them away.”

  “Are you saying we have sheep missing?”

  Gulda nodded. “Young ones. Not marked yet. They were at the waterhole close to Smith’s Ridge.”

  Thomas knew the waterhole Gulda was talking about. It had to be a spring: there was always water in it. It was on his land, a few miles from the boundary he shared with Smith’s Ridge. Once more he cast his eyes in that direction. Terrett let his animals use it and there was little Thomas could do about it, but if the overseer was stealing his sheep that was another matter.

  “What will you do, Thomas?” Lizzie asked.

  “I’ll have to go and see for myself.”

  “Bad thing.” Gulda began to get agitated again.

  “You should let it go.”

  They all turned to see Zac standing in the dirt at the end of the verandah. His face was blotchy and his eyes red.

  “I can’t let him get away with stealing my sheep and blaming it on the natives.”

  “You won’t get the truth from Terrett,” Zac said.

  “I don’t like that man,” Lizzie said. “He looks at me as if he can see right through my clothes.

  “He’s evil,” Zac rasped and he shuddered. Then he turned and walked back to his hut.

  Thomas and Lizzie looked at each other. They both knew something bad had happened while Zac had been working with Terrett but he’d never talked about it.

  Thomas clenched his jaw. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “If he has taken some sheep and he thinks he can get away with it, he’ll do it again.”

  He stepped inside and took the firearm from its hook on the wall.

  Lizzie put a restraining hand on his arm as he passed her. “Be careful, Thomas,” she said, her face creased in concern.

  He kissed her and ruffled Joseph’s fluffy hair. “I’ll be home by tomorrow evening.”

  Thomas didn’t look back but he could feel their eyes watching him as he rode away. It took him a couple of hours to reach the waterhole. There were prints everywhere, made by sheep and horses, and no way of working out how many or who they belonged to. He turned his horse west towards the ridge that gave the neighbouring property its name. The afternoon sun bounced off the red and brown rocks. Sweat trickled down his back under his shirt and yet he knew when the sun went down, the night would be very cold.

  He crossed one dry creek and then another. There were plenty of hoof prints but nothing for their owners to drink. Terrett would have trouble keeping his own stock watered let alone stealing someone else’s. When they’d mapped out their runs the creeks had been flowing through Smith’s Ridge but there’d been little rain since Wiltshire had taken over.

  The sun was low in the sky when he heard the bleating of sheep and saw the smoke of a fire up ahead.

  Terrett turned from the sheep he’d been holding at the sound of Thomas’s approach. Thomas didn’t recognise the man with him, though he knew Wiltshire had employed a shepherd to replace Zac. He watched the man push the sheep away. Blood dripped from the ear clippers he held in his hand.

  “Well, well, Neales, we’ve got a visitor.” Terrett put his hands to his hips. His bare arms were thick as tree branches and covered in black hair. “I don’t believe you’ve met our neighbour, Thomas Baker.”

  Neales nodded. Thomas responded then cast a look around the makeshift camp. The only sheep visible was the one Neales had just pushed away, but he could hear the occasional bleats of others nearby.

  “What brings you here?”

  Thomas turned slowly back to Terrett. “I’m missing some sheep.”

  “Blacks, the thieving bastards.” Terrett spat to the side. “We’ve lost some too. That’s why me and Neales here thought we’d best do a check. Make sure our stock’s got their ears marked.”

  “That won’t stop natives stealing your sheep,” Thomas said.

  “No, but when I catch ’em with ’em I’ll know they belong to Smith’s Ridge and the bastards will be dealt with.” His face split in an ugly grin. “Speaking of Smiths, how’s that lovely wife of yours and her young brother?”

  “My family are well and no concern of yours, Mr Terrett.”

  Terrett dropped his arms to his sides and took a step towards Thomas. “No need for that tone, Baker. I’m just being neighbourly.”

  “Neighbours return what’s not theirs,” Thomas said. Once more he cast his eyes around but there was nothing to suggest they had tagged his sheep. When he looked back, Neales had moved closer to Terrett.

  “Are you saying we have something of yours?” The grin had left Terrett’s face.

  “No,” Thomas replied. “I’m saying keep to your side of the boundary and make sure the sheep you tag are Wiltshire’s and not mine.”

  Terrett glowered at him. He opened his mouth to speak then apparently changed his mind about what to say. “Mr Wiltshire was only here yesterday.” His lips twisted into a grin. “He was checking up on things. Says I’m doing a mighty fine job.”

  “Does he?” Thomas said carefully. He’d never managed to pin down the elusive Septimus Wiltshire but he thought it time he met his unwelcome neighbour. He was also keen to find out how Wiltshire’s wife had come to be in possession of his mother’s book. “I’m sorry I missed him again. I’d like to talk to him myself.”

  “You’ll have to go to Port Augusta.” Neales grinned.

  “Shut ya stupid face,” Terrett snarled at him.

  Thomas’s horse shifted under him. So Wiltshire was in Port Augusta. Maybe even lived there. It would make sense. Far enough away and yet close enough to pay a visit to his property once or twice a year.

  “He asked after you too.” The sneering grin was back on Terrett’s face. “Asked if I’d seen your drunk of a brother-in-law. Wanted to make sure he hadn’t come snivelling back here.”

  Thomas stiffened. He locked eyes with Terrett.

  “He liked the grog, young Zac. Used to beg me for it.” He threw back his head and laughed. “I told Mr Wiltshire the good-for-nothing wouldn’t come back here again. Not after the beating the boss ordered for him and I dished out.”

  “You bastard!” Thomas roared. His horse reared. Terrett sprang at Thomas and Neales grabbed at the reins.

  Thomas wheeled his horse away and both men lost their hold. He took the whip from his saddle and cracked it.

  They both stopped where they were, half stooped, their hands hanging at their sides, watching him closely.

  “I’ll have this out with Wiltshire when I find him in Port Augusta. In the meantime you keep your sheep and yourselves off my land,” Thomas growled. “And Terrett, if ever I find you’ve taken a Wildu Creek sheep, I’ll make sure the law finds you.”

  Terrett glowered at him then slowly put his hands to his hips. “I’m not frightened of you, Baker, or the law,” he said.

  Thomas turned his horse and rode away. Behind him Terrett began to laugh. The awful sound echoed around him in the gloom of the late afternoon shadows. He hoped he’d delivered a strong message but he had the uneasy feeling he’d only stirred up more trouble.

  *

  The sound of a horse nickering woke him. There was just the hint of light to the east; it was too early for most people to be about. Thomas sat up and reached for the firearm he’d kept at his side. The fire was out and his fingers were stiff with cold.<
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  He’d camped just inside the boundary of his property, not far from the waterhole he’d checked yesterday. Dark had fallen not long after he’d left Terrett and he’d been keen to put distance between them, but it had been a moonless night and eventually he’d had to stop. He couldn’t be sure Terrett wouldn’t follow him but at least the darkness that made travel difficult for him would do the same for Terrett.

  A bush rustled. Thomas raised the firearm.

  A figure loomed.

  “Mr Tom?”

  Thomas blew out a breath. “Gulda. What are you doing creeping around in the dark?”

  “Mrs Lizzie worry.”

  Thomas groaned. Then he thought about his trip to Port Augusta. He had planned to go home to see Lizzie then head straight off again. Wiltshire might be only a few days ahead of him and Thomas wanted to get on the road.

  “It might be a good thing you’ve found me, Gulda. You can ride back and tell Mrs Lizzie I am well and I have gone straight to the port.”

  “No, Mr Tom.” Gulda squatted down beside him. “Mrs Lizzie needs you.”

  “Why?” Thomas jumped to his feet. “Is it Joseph?” Please God; he’d lost one child. He couldn’t bear to lose another.

  “Joseph is well, Mr Tom. It’s Mr Zac. He’s bad.” Gulda shook his head. “Very bad.”

  Forty-eight

  Lizzie was waiting on the verandah as Thomas rode up. He was pleased to see Joseph and Tommie were both safe and playing under a tree beside Daisy while she worked on a possum skin.

  “What’s happened?” he asked. He could see the exhausted lines of Lizzie’s face now that he was closer.

  “It’s Zac. After you left he kept drinking.” She gripped both his arms as he reached her. “Oh Thomas,” she whispered. “I think he tried to kill himself.”

  “Tell me,” Thomas said gently.

  “He was in such a bad way he could barely walk. I found two empty flasks in his hut and another half full. I emptied it all out then I put him to bed to sleep it off but … Well, last night I went to check on him and he wasn’t there. Gulda and Daisy and I all set out looking for him. Gulda found him in the waterhole further along the creek. The only part with any decent water left in it.”

  “Perhaps he was going to wash. Try to sober himself up.”

  Lizzie looked up at him with tired, sad eyes. “He had his boots on and … his pockets were full of stones. When Gulda tried to pull him out, he started to scream.” Her lip trembled. “It was such a horrible sound, Thomas. Daisy and I both came running. It took all three of us to drag him from the water.” She stopped and sucked in a breath. “He pleaded with me to let him die.” The last words came out in a gush as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  Thomas pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to her hair. She sobbed into his chest. It hurt to see Zac turning into this person they didn’t know and yet he felt powerless to stop it.

  He felt Lizzie relax in his arms. “Where is he now?” he asked.

  “In our back room. On the bed you made for Joseph. He’s sleeping but I didn’t want to let him out of my sight. I sent Gulda to find you because I didn’t know what to do.”

  He stood back from her and saw the tears begin to brim in her eyes again. Thomas sighed. He knew Zac was a troubled man but he hadn’t thought him a danger to himself. “I don’t know what I can do,” he said.

  “Can’t you talk to him? Make him see we love him and he’s got a home here.”

  “I know that.”

  They both spun at Zac’s voice. He was standing just inside the house, squinting out at them. Thomas was shocked to see how much thinner and more gaunt he looked just since the previous day.

  Lizzie moved towards her brother but Thomas held her back. There was something else about Zac. He looked like a man who’d been through hell and yet – it was his eyes. There was something in his look that Thomas hadn’t seen since their droving days: determination, perhaps.

  “I’m thirsty,” Thomas said. “Let’s take some water and go sit under the trees.”

  Once more Lizzie made to move.

  “It’s all right, Lizzie,” he said and kissed her forehead. “Just Zac and me this time.”

  Over the top of her head, Zac gave a slight nod.

  “You go ahead,” Thomas said. “I’ll bring the water pouch.”

  He took a moment to reassure Lizzie then made his way down the slope to the trees that had become their outdoor room. Zac was sitting in one of the rough chairs, staring across the creek.

  Thomas offered him the pouch and watched while he drank deeply. Then he took a few mouthfuls for himself and hung the pouch between them on a jutting branch. He looked out at the scene that held Zac’s attention. The valley stretched before them, changing to rolling hills covered in the green of eucalypt and bluebush stretching up to the brown haze of Smith’s Ridge. Beyond that the rugged mountain range towered into a grey sky.

  Zac broke the silence between them. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you and Lizzie trouble,” he said.

  Thomas kept his eyes on the view. He hoped Zac would be able to talk about what bothered him. “Trouble usually has a reason.”

  He heard Zac take in a deep breath then slowly let it out. “Jacob and I were never so happy as those first days at Smith’s Ridge. We lost a few more sheep after we got back but we still managed to make the quota. The sun was shining, there was plenty of feed and water in the creeks. We even thought about building a proper hut.” He paused. “We didn’t know about Annie, of course.”

  Thomas lifted his shoulders. “There was no way you could.”

  “When the government man came, we were as happy as larks. We showed him the count but when he checked his papers he said we were a week late. Jacob and I were having it out with him. We said we’d been there two days before but he said that made us five days late. Then, out of the blue, this Wiltshire bloke turns up. He had another paper that said the lease was his too. It had Father’s signature and the date was a week earlier than we thought. Because we hadn’t stocked by the due date, Wiltshire took over the lease. He acted all concerned and offered Jacob and me work as shepherds. Said he had his own man who would arrive later and be overseer. Jacob blew his stack there and then but I believed Wiltshire when he said it was all unfortunate and he would do his best to see us back on our feet.”

  Thomas nodded. He’d heard the same story from Jacob when he’d left Smith’s Ridge and lived at Wildu Creek for that first winter.

  “It wasn’t too bad there for another week or so. I was on my own and imagined it was still our lease even if it wasn’t. Then Terrett turned up.”

  From the corner of his eye, Thomas saw Zac grip his hands together. “He’s a mean bastard.” He pulled his hands apart and formed them into fists. “Treated animals bad; treated the blacks even worse; and if I spoke up he laid into me. He made a still. Wiltshire didn’t permit drinking but Terrett said what we did in our own time was our own business. I had a swig or two at night. Made working with that animal a little easier.”

  “Why didn’t you leave?” Thomas asked. “We’d have welcomed you here.”

  Zac glanced at Thomas then looked away again. “I know, but I thought I could somehow get Smith’s Ridge back. Terrett was so terrible I thought the soft-looking Wiltshire would send him packing and decide it was all too hard to manage.” Zac let out a snort. “How wrong I was. Wiltshire might dress like a gentleman but he’s out of the gutter. He was no better than Terrett. I tried to tell him about Terrett on his next visit but he just laughed at me. Told me to toughen up or move on.”

  “But you stayed.” Thomas was more puzzled than ever.

  “Yes. I heard them talking when they thought I was away with the sheep, but I snuck back to get a bit of Terrett’s grog. He had a stash near the shelter he slept in. He and Wiltshire were sitting by the fire laughing. Then I heard Father’s name mentioned and I stopped to listen. Wiltshire was bragging about how he’d duped the old man.”

&n
bsp; Thomas sat forward and studied Zac. He’d often wondered what had happened. George and Anne had visited after Joseph was born but his father-in-law had clammed up when Thomas broached the topic of Smith’s Ridge. Said he’d been a fool, and lost his money, and that’s all there was to it.

  “Wiltshire got Father to sign the papers,” Zac said. “Then he rode hell for leather to make Adelaide as quickly as he could. He lodged the lease application then held up the paperwork to purchase the sheep. It was nearly all his money going into the stock. We were a week late leaving Encounter Bay but what we didn’t know was we were already two weeks into the time we had to get the stock back to the Ridge. Wiltshire set it up so that we wouldn’t make the deadline and he was waiting to take over the lease. No doubt it had been his intention all along. We did all the hard work, finding the place, marking it out and stocking it, then he took it away from us.”

  Thomas shook his head.

  “Anyway, they heard me,” Zac continued. “Wiltshire told Terrett to rough me up so I knew to keep my trap shut.”

  “You still didn’t leave.”

  “No. I thought I could make them think I didn’t care. All along I was trying to find a way to get the lease back, but it was useless. I drank Terrett’s grog and listened to his stories. That was bad enough. Then one day we were out checking waterholes and we came across this young native woman. Terrett leaped on her. I thought he was just trying to frighten her but then he tied her to a tree and …”

  Zac spat then took another long drink from the water pouch. He continued in a low voice. Thomas had to strain to hear.

  “I tried to get him off her but he clobbered me so hard I didn’t feel my head hit the ground. When I came to he was still at her.”

  Zac’s chest began to heave and he tipped his head to the side and brought up some water. Thomas felt his own stomach clench. Terrett was an animal.

  “Sorry,” Zac mumbled. “I still have nightmares about what he did to that poor girl. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He came and pulled me to my feet by my hair. He dragged me over and made me look at her and then he said … He told me if I spoke a word of it he’d do my sister the same.”