by Paula Boer
After managing to apply a rough bandage to her hand, not an easy task on her own, Louise hastened back to the yards. Determined not to let the difficulty of the work overpower her, she slipped through the rails back to the race. If Jacinta could do it, so could she.
Graeme checked the dressing on her hand and nodded approval. "You"ll live. You won"t be able to use a knife like that though. How about you help push up the next pen of cattle? I know it"s hard work, but there"ll be two of you in there this time. We never go in with the bulls alone."
Louise looked across at the next pen to be processed. While she had been attending to her cut, the cows and calves had all been through the race. "What do you do with them? They"re already branded and ear-tagged."
"They still need to be drenched for ticks and other pests. It"s much quicker than the calves, and then we"ll stop for lunch before we tackle the weaners."
The pen of bulls looked daunting to Louise. The Brahmans didn"t have horns but they weighed over a tonne. She joined one of Graeme"s stockmen in the yard who indicated she should go around the mob of cattle and drive them from behind. Copying his actions, she waved her hat and shouted. Some of the bulls wandered towards the exit but others stood and looked at her. Jumping up and down, she flapped her arms and moved towards a massive dark grey beast. With a grunt, he turned and followed the others.
The heavy bulls walked a lot slower than the cows and calves that had scuttled around in a frenzy. Louise found this work much easier and came to know just how hard she could drive the animals without over exerting herself. She worked out that approaching their head and staring at them seemed to be more effective than chasing them.
One slate grey bull kept evading her attempts to push him toward the gate. He had taken a firm stance in the far corner and no matter how she darted at him, he wouldn"t move. She decided to leave him for the more experienced stockman who was driving the last three bulls into the race. Walking back across the yard, she heard a sudden chorus of shouts.
"Turn around!" "Run!" "Louise, get out!" All the messages came at once and confused her.
Glancing over her shoulder, Louise saw a cloud of dust coming towards her at speed. It suddenly dawned on her that the bull was on the attack. Gaining strength she didn"t know she had, she flew to the rails and leapt to safety as the powerful beast crashed into the metal bars. His lowered head smashed with a bang where her legs had been a second before.
Perched on the top rail, Louise"s heart pounded as she recovered from her mad dash and the close escape. She could see Ben stomping over to her.
"Never turn your back on a bull! Or a cow for that matter. What were you thinking, Louise? You must know better than that." Ben"s face glowed red with anger.
Shaking, Louise jumped off the rails to safety. Furious with Ben for his attitude, she wished she was anywhere else. Throwing her hat to the ground, she shouted back at him. "Some of us didn"t grow up on a farm, Ben. I hate this yard work. I want to go home and ride Honey. It was a stupid idea to come for the holidays."
Graeme came over and pointed at Ben. "Shut up. We"ve all had near misses like that and I could tell a few stories about things you did when you were younger." He placed his arm around Louise"s shoulder. "I think you"ve done really well. It"s almost lunchtime. Why don"t you go and join Cooky at the camp. We"ll be over soon."
A small flock of dark grey birds the size of blackbirds pecked at the ground around the old cook where he sat on a low three-legged stool. As Louise moved nearer, the birds rose in a flurry of wings and resettled a few metres away. "What are they squabbling over?"
The wiry cook looked up and chuckled. "Them Happy Families? I threw them some crumbs. They"ll argue over anything."
"Can I sit here?" Louise pulled up a camp stool opposite the small fire where a large black billy swung on a tripod.
"Don"t cost no more than anywhere else. Are they on their way over?" The cook stood and hefted a large pot into the coals. Lifting the lid, he sniffed as he gave the meat a stir.
"Graeme sent me over to say they"d be here soon. What"s for lunch?"
"Wait-and-see-pie! That"s what me Pappy always told me." The wrinkled man folded his spindly legs beneath him as he squatted back on the rough-hewn stool.
Louise watched the birds continuing to shove each other around, squawking and pecking. "Why are they called Happy Families when they fight all the time?"
Cooky"s eyes twinkled. "That"s exactly why. They live in family groups, and like any family, there"re always rivalries and squabbles. They"re really Apostlebirds."
Placing a couple of tin mugs on an upturned stump, Cooky poured black tea from the billy and added three heaped spoons of sugar into each. "Here, you"ll need this after a morning in the yards. Hard work, ain"t it?"
Agreeing, Louise took the proffered cup and sipped the sweet liquid. Ignoring the tea leaves floating around, she found the hot drink refreshing despite the heat of the day. Her anger with the world dissipated as she watched the cook busy about getting lunch laid out. He wiped the dust off a stack of tin plates and removed the lid from a tub of cutlery. A large shaker of salt and a pepper grinder stood centrepiece on the wooden bench that served as a table.
Graeme led the stockmen over to a large concrete sink that rested on iron rails. A long handle served as a tap to the flow of bore water that gushed from a pipe protruding from the ground. The men doused their heads and scrubbed their hands over their faces before joining Louise and Cooky at the fire.
Ben and Jacinta wandered over a few minutes later, by which time everyone else had platefuls of food. Louise used the excuse of having a mouthful of thick-cut toast and mince to avoid having to say anything.
When it was time to return to work, Graeme waited until Ben and Jacinta had wandered off. "Louise, if you want to give Cooky a hand this afternoon, I"m sure he"d appreciate it. There"s another stock camp of men coming in tonight so he"s got a lot of people to cater for."
Understanding that Ben"s uncle was offering her an opportunity not to go back in the yards, Louise felt guilty. "Only if he wants me. I don"t want to be in the way."
Cooky threw his hands in the air. "It"s not often I get to spend the afternoon with a pretty girl. Company"ll be good."
Grateful for his comment, Louise accepted. "I can wash things up if nothing else."
The air became thick and heavy as the earlier breeze disappeared in the afternoon. Louise"s chatter about her morning dried up as the heat and tiredness overcame her. Louise couldn"t understand why Cooky kept the campfire going. "Why don"t you do dinner in the kitchen at the stockmen"s quarters? Ben showed me round when we arrived and it looks like a great set-up."
Cooky"s beard hung in a long plait, fastened with a rubber band near his waist. He tucked the end into his belt. "I don"t like no confined spaces. I was born outside and I live outside. There ain"t nothing I can"t cook on an open fire."
Fascinated, Louise became more alert and asked about Cooky"s background. She discovered he had been raised by his grandfather, Pappy, after his mother died giving birth to him, and his father left a few months later.
"He was the best drover in those days, old Tom Donaldson. I went with him everywhere. Never had no schooling. It was him who taught me to cook and all." A faraway look came into Cooky"s eyes as he stared at the horizon.
Louise shuffled on her seat. "Why didn"t you become a drover like him? Or a stockman?"
Brought back to the present, Cooky tugged his shirt out of his jeans and lifted it high to his chin. A thick scar like a contorted snake trailed from one hip across his belly and disappeared around his chest. "A bull gored me when I was eight. I ain"t been near them beasts other than to butcher them ever since."
Shocked, Louise thought back to her morning in the yards. Thank goodness the bull that chased her hadn"t had horns. "That"s awful! What happened? You"re lucky you didn"t die."
Nodding, Coo
ky told her the full story of how he"d thought to help his Pappy and had ridden a horse into the bush to chase an escaped bull. The beast had turned and charged him, knocking the horse over and raking both of them with his horns. His grandfather had to shoot the bull to save him. "There weren"t no way to contact a flying doctor or anyone in those days. One of the Aunties stitched me up with something. They was always good with bush medicine."
"What aunties? Did you have a big family?" Louise kneaded a large bowl of flour and water that Cooky had asked her to mix for damper.
Chuckling and shaking his head, Cooky explained, "Me mam was Aboriginal. There was always a few of them following the camp. We called the older ladies "aunty" out of respect. They knew a thing or two, them old girls. Most of that knowledge is lost these days."
A comfortable silence fell between them as they continued to work together on the evening meal. Cooky looked up at a flock of corellas causing a commotion as they landed in the dead gum tree over at the yards. He joined in, mimicking the raucous birds. As he changed tune, the white parrots took to the air and swooped low over the camp before flying in a huge circle overhead and returning to their perches.
Louise was convinced that the birds had responded to Cooky"s whistling. "That"s amazing! Did you really call those birds over?"
"I can do lots of other birds too. Listen. What"s this one?" He whistled all different bird songs to Louise, who tried to guess each one in vain.
Time passed quickly as Louise chatted to Cooky about birds, his past, and life in the outback. He reminded her of Harry, the hermit who lived in the mountains that had helped her and Ben with the brumbies. Both old men preferred to live outdoors and had an affinity with animals. She was amazed how much she learnt from Cooky in such a short time, unlike with Harry whom she knew nothing about, despite being friends for eighteen months. Thinking of friends, she wondered what Ben thought of her not helping in the yards. This holiday wasn"t turning out like he"d promised at all.
Chapter 6
The heifer bolted from the crush as Ben released the gate. The six-month-old beast kicked up her heels as she joined the other weaners at the far corner of the yard, all pushing and shoving in a confused muddle. Their complaints of being separated from their mothers became ever louder as more youngsters joined the mob. On the far side of the yards, the cows called back, joining in the uproar. Ben knew from experience that the noise would continue all night.
Graeme"s stockmen pushed the cattle through the race, drenching them as they passed. Another heifer rattled the crush as she tried to run straight through. Ben had the gate closed and caught the Brahman"s head in the neck lock. As soon as she was secure, Jacinta clamped an electronic tag into the right ear. "Done!"
Ben released the heifer and readied for the next one. "How many is that, Jacie?"
"Two more to reach a hundred. We can take a break while I open the next bag of tags." Despite the hard work, Jacinta looked cool and tidy, even with a covering of dust making her white shirt and jeans the same pale orange.
Sitting in the shade of the tin shed that stored the branding equipment, veterinary products and ear tags, Ben swigged on his water bottle. "Ugh, that"s warm. At least it"s wet. We must be almost half way through those weaners."
Jacinta nodded. "I doubt your city friend would be able to keep up. I see she didn"t make it back here after lunch."
Ben hadn"t wanted to raise the topic of Louise. Now that Jacinta had mentioned her, his ire rose again. "I thought she"d handle it better. I guess because she rides out with me at home I forget she"s really a townie. She only moved to Crowhurst a couple of years ago."
"It shows. She obviously wasn"t raised in the bush. I suppose she learnt to ride the easy way, on push-button school horses, not green youngsters or mad stockhorses like we did."
"Yeh, but she"s come a long way with her brumby mare. Come on, let"s get back to work. I want to ride Brandy out after this. Where can we go?" Ben stood as he talked, recapping his drink bottle and hanging it on a hook on the wall.
Jacinta did the same. "I can"t ride out with you today. I need to get dinner organised and bake a quiche for tomorrow. Dad suggested we go for a picnic at the falls after we walk the stock out."
It took a little longer to process the last of the cattle as everyone started to tire. A few minutes after five o"clock, the last of the weaners trotted free of the crush. Ben removed his hat and wiped his face on his sleeve. "Can I leave you to tidy up? It"ll be too late to take Brandy out otherwise."
"The men will do it and feed out hay. I"d better get to the house and have a shower."
Ben left Jacinta to go her own way as he walked over to the horse yards. Glancing around, he noticed Louise over at the stock camp with the old cook. They seemed to be chatting happily. Deciding not to bother telling Louise he was going out for a ride, he turned away and went to collect his saddle.
Brandy whinnied as Ben approached with his tack. "I bet you"re ready to go out. How"s your leg?"
After haltering the stallion, Ben ran his hands all over the horse"s body and down his legs. The gash from where the horse had been hung up in a fence had healed to a hairless scar. Ben couldn"t detect any sign of heat around the old wound. "That seems okay. Let"s see how you move."
After grooming and saddling up, Ben led Brandy over to the round yard where he worked him for ten minutes. The horse trotted out sound and looked fantastic, his liver chestnut coat gleaming. He still looked strong, with an arched crest and rounded rump, despite losing muscle tone during his recovery.
Satisfied that the young stallion was ready to mount, Ben checked the girth and swung up into the saddle. He kept Brandy"s head held around to his knee for safety, but the horse showed no signs of wanting to play up. After walking a few laps of the round yard, Ben bent down and released the gate latch.
After riding the green mare the day before, Brandy"s long confident stride gave Ben great pleasure. He could feel the power of his horse beneath his seat. With only the slightest shift of weight or leg, Brandy turned and moved with grace.
Passing the homestead, Ben heard Snifter yipping. "You can"t come, you stupid dog. You shouldn"t have got in that fight. Stop whining."
To get away from the pitiful sound, Ben set Brandy into a trot. He headed down the driveway to the dirt road, not confident of finding his way among the maze of tracks that led across the paddocks. A wide verge that could be used as a stock lane ran either side of the track. A cattle pad had been worn along the fence making ideal going for a horse.
Brandy stretched into an extended trot, keen to be out of the yards. "Steady back, boy. Let"s warm you up before you get too carried away."
Despite Ben"s words, he was as keen as his horse to get a move on. The hard work in the yards and the frustration over Louise had made him tense. Now the breeze that whipped past his face as he pounded along the roadside shifted his mood. Even better, Brandy strode out as if he had never injured his leg. Up until now, Ben had only ridden him gently. He decided that the time had come to see if his horse was up to a bit more work.
With the country being totally flat, the going didn"t put excess strain on Brandy"s legs. Ben let him canter where the saltbush cleared away and brought him back to a trot when he had to navigate rocky or scrubby sections. After half an hour, he slowed to a walk. A few hundred metres further on, he came to a junction in the road. "I don"t know where this goes. Let"s go back. It"s getting dark already."
Brandy sped up on the way home. Ben let him move at his own pace, enjoying the freedom of being out on his horse. Both had worked up a crusty sweat by the time they reached the horse yards where Ben slid off and patted the stallion on the neck.
Graeme came out of the tack shed as Ben turned on the hose to wash Brandy down. "How"d he go?"
"Awesome! We must have done fifteen ks. He felt great."
Graeme stood back to appraise the horse. "He loo
ks good If he"s still sound tomorrow, there"re a couple of mares ready to serve."
Ben beamed, delighted his uncle wanted to use Brandy as a stud horse. His father wanted to geld the stallion, putting an end to Ben"s dreams to build his own herd from the brumby. "I"ll walk him round to cool him down then feed him."
"Don"t take too long. Louise was looking for you and Jacinta has steak and onions ready."
With great precision, Graeme reversed the road train up to the loading ramp. The vehicle, over fifty metres long, had three trailers behind the prime mover. Ben watched his uncle with admiration as the air brakes gasped with the stop. Two stockmen opened the swinging doors on the side and fastened them with chains.
At a signal from the head stockman, Ben whistled to Louise to open the yard that held the cattle to be culled. He, Jacinta and the stockmen drove the cattle up the ramp onto the truck. Most of the cattle had been transported at one time or another in their lives, usually to go to fresh pasture, so most went on without trouble.
Ben could see that Louise stood well clear of the gate as the old or lame cows and bulls pushed through. He prepared to count the next pen of cattle into the small loading yard. Graeme had calculated that only eight beasts should go in each pen of the double decks to ensure that the weight was evenly distributed. Ben also tried to mix large and small animals together to further distribute the load.
"Are you ready?" He called out to the stockman on the truck to see if the dividers had been closed behind the last lot of cattle. At the confirming wave, he whistled again to Louise to open the gate. They repeated the process until both decks of the first trailer had been filled. After checking everyone stood clear, Graeme inched the massive vehicle forward to load the next trailer.
Jacinta used the opportunity to chat to Ben. "The way this is going, we"ll have plenty of time to walk out the breeders and still go for that picnic. Dad won"t be back until late tonight."