Haunted Creek

by Ann Cliff

  ‘Don’t you think I should worry? About fencing the land, for instance?’

  Luke moved restlessly. ‘Nah. Drives a man mad, to have a wife that’s always nagging. I’m beginning to see why some men stay single.’

  ‘And I’m beginning to realize why some women aren’t keen to come to Australia,’ Rose said quietly. Several of her neighbours in the village had warned her against it. Perhaps it was wrong to marry someone you didn’t really love? She was ashamed to think that she was here partly because she wanted to get away from home. It would have been easier to take a living-in job with a family somewhere in Yorkshire – as a nanny or a housemaid. The other reason to come here was the hope of a loving husband.

  As autumn turned to winter, Rose wondered whether it would be anything like a Yorkshire winter. They could see snow on the mountain tops of the Great Dividing Range, the Victorian Alps as they were called, but lower down at Haunted Creek there was the odd light frost, no snow and sunny days were warm and pleasant. Geraniums still grew outside against the fence and with a heavier dress and sometimes a shawl, Rose was warm enough for most of the time. Days of fog and rain were worst, when the wind blew cold.

  Luke had managed to clear a little more land and he put up yards of fencing so that Rose could buy a few sheep with the money she earned from the eggs. He seemed to accept that Rose was in charge of this money, although he was always looking for ways of earning money himself. There was no mention of building a better house and Rose knew that the farm came first.

  Up on the hill, the Carrs were making much faster progress. The thin cow that walked in with them behind the cart was fat now and had produced twins. Charlie and Peter now had a calf each to care for and they told Rose that this would be the start of their own farms. Bert Carr had bought sawn planks from the tree fellers and the house was to be finished before the worst of the winter weather. He was earning money by carrying goods with the bullock cart and was now known as an honest carrier who treated his cattle well.

  Then came a shock. ‘You’re looking a bit peaky, love,’ Martha told Rose one day when she called to see Rose with a gift of cabbages. ‘Not in the family way, are you?’

  Rose sat down suddenly, facing the reality she had been pushing away in her mind. ‘We’ll have a cup of tea,’ she said weakly to Martha and raked the fire together. ‘I might be …’

  ‘You’re a funny one. It’s the first thought in most lasses’ minds, either way, whether they want a baby or not,’ Martha laughed. ‘It would be a blessing, a little lad to help his dad on the block. Anyway, when the time does come, remember I’m a midwife. I was trained before we were wed and I’ve delivered a lot of babies.’

  ‘So – you could tell me what to do? I don’t know much about it, you see.’ Rose’s head ached and she felt confused.

  ‘Of course I’ll help you, love!’ Martha seemed to relish the idea of a baby. Luke was making his way up from the paddock and so she added, ‘Come and see me, say next week. We can have a talk and see whether a baby is likely, or there’s something else. You can go to the doctor, of course, but he’s down in Moe. We can manage between us if all goes well.’

  ‘I won’t say anything to Luke,’ Rose whispered. ‘Not yet.’

  Martha nodded. ‘It wouldn’t do to disappoint him, if it’s nothing.’

  For the next week Rose wondered whether her unwell feeling was due to pregnancy, or something else. She had helped Luke with getting in wood for the fire and lifted pieces that were too heavy for her, which had given her pains in the back. The monthly flow had not happened, but this was not too unusual in her case.

  What would Luke say about a baby? They had never really discussed the subject; Luke was not one for serious talks. He might be pleased, or he could resent having more responsibility. The hut was hardly the place to bring up a child.

  Rose wondered how to find an excuse to see Martha, but the problem resolved itself. Tom Appleyard rode in one day on a sturdy horse and asked Luke to go to work for him. ‘I reckon a young couple can always do with a bit more cash,’ he said, with a wink at Rose. ‘I’ve got a big stand of mountain ash to clear and limited time to do it. My lads have cleared off to Melbourne, so I’m calling on you and Jim Carlyle to help me. Only problem is, we’ll be working away from home. It’s more than twenty mile off, over by Noojee.’

  ‘That’s no problem,’ Luke said immediately, as though he was itching to be off. ‘Rose can manage on her own, can’t you, lass? She likes it.’ He had probably planned this since they had met the Appleyards at Easter.

  Winter was very different, with short days and long nights to listen to the shrieks and groans in the bush. ‘How long for?’ she asked Tom.

  ‘Not for long,’ the woodman said cheerfully. ‘We’ll not be gone above a month. Or maybe two, if weather holds us up.’

  They might be gone until the spring.

  EIGHT

  ROSE PERSUADED LUKE that he intended to improve the fencing before he left, especially for the sheep paddock. He was so pleased to be going that he did everything she asked and chopped a huge pile of wood for the fire.

  ‘The pay’s good, and if I do well I might get a regular job with Tom,’ Luke said happily the night before he left. ‘Sorry about leaving you, but …’ He did not look very sorry.

  ‘This place needs two of us, Luke,’ Rose told him quietly. ‘You can’t leave it too often. If you want to be a woodman, maybe we should sell the land.’ He had said that she liked being left alone and she was proud that she could manage the farm by herself, but her strength was not up to some of the heavy work and with a baby, life would be hard.

  ‘Never!’ Luke was quite certain about that. ‘If I earn a regular wage we can buy more land.’

  You can’t manage the land you’ve got. There was no sense in quarrelling just before he left, so Rose said nothing.

  Luke and Jim were to travel to their destination in a cart with Tom and the big saws and axes. Rose packed up as much food for them as she could and a spare set of Luke’s clothes. When the little clearing was quiet after they had gone, there was time once more to count her blessings. There was no meat left but the goat had kidded at last and was now milking well, so she could make cheese, and with eggs and the vegetables they had grown, she would manage quite well. There were plenty of daisy yams in the bush.

  There would be no time to feel lonely and, in any case, she had good neighbours. Erik and Freda had kept in frequent contact with Rose and when he and his mother called, he always had something new to tell her or show her. Luke tolerated the visits, probably aware that Rose needed to know there were friends not far off.

  Rose walked over to see Martha the week after Luke had gone, feeling certain that a baby was on the way and Martha agreed. ‘You’ll be carrying through the heat of summer, too,’ she lamented. ‘Well, we’d better set to and make some clothes for him.’ Of course it was going to be a boy.

  The advice Martha gave was just common sense: good plain food, plenty of sleep and exercise, but not too much heavy lifting. Martha said settlers’ wives often worked too hard before the birth, not like town women who put their feet up. ‘It’s too bad that Luke’s gone away, but in one way it’s good – you’ll have peace and quiet,’ she said.

  Keeping busy, Rose harvested all the potatoes and put them in sacks and then realized that there were many more onions than they could deal with. The surplus could be sold.

  The twenty ewes they had bought were to lamb in spring and the cattle had settled down. Coming back to the hut from the creek, you could hear the cockerel crowing and the cackle of a hen that had just laid an egg. They were homely sounds. Once the bush was tamed and the trees retreated, civilization would come to Haunted Creek and they might have a little village there in the future.

  Freda Jensen came to see Rose one Saturday when a light drizzle dampened everything and made working outside unpleasant. Rose was sitting at the door of the hut, making a patchwork quilt for the bed. She enjoyed sewing and
was thankful that she’d brought plenty of material in the big trunk. Soon she would make baby clothes, but the baby was hardly real to her as yet.

  ‘Luke’s gone off again? My dear, you do have a hard time of it!’ Freda’s face was concerned. ‘I’ve come to ask you for help, as it happens.’ She looked at the work on Rose’s lap. ‘And I can see that I’ve come to the right place. The school needs a sewing mistress and now the Board of Education has put up a little more money, I can ask you if you would like to take the job. Mrs Brown used to help us out, but she’s gone to live in Moe.’

  ‘To teach the girls sewing?’ Rose asked uncertainly. Was she good enough? She had made her own clothes for years, but teaching other people was a different matter. You would have to know exactly how each stitch was made, how each stage was done.

  ‘To teach both boys and girls, Rose, although the boys might not like it much. It’s always useful for a man to be able to sew a button on.’

  Rose thought for a while. This would be a good chance to earn a little money, but … ‘I seem to feel more shy now than I used to do,’ she confessed. ‘I would be nervous with a whole class of children.’

  ‘That’s probably because you are alone too much,’ Freda said firmly. ‘This is just the thing for you, Rose. You could start off with a small group at first.’ As she talked, Rose realized that the teacher was right. She was good at sewing and would be able to share her skill.

  ‘The group could grow in time and the school is getting bigger. All the children in Haunted Creek and Wattle Tree come to our school. I suppose you know that Victoria was the first state in the world to introduce free education? It’s something to be proud of. It’s also compulsory, so families that live near enough have to send their little ones to school.’ She smiled happily; Freda believed in education for settlers’ children. ‘I think it will help to make the place more civilized, in the end.’

  ‘There is one problem,’ Rose said hesitantly as they sat at her scrubbed table, eating gingerbread she had made in the camp oven. ‘I think I’m going to have a baby.’ She smoothed back her dark hair nervously.

  ‘Are you pleased? Of course you are!’ Freda was looking at her carefully. ‘Well, we can try it for one term to start with, but you’ll probably be able to carry on until the birth. The school is not very public, after all.’ She picked up the pieces of quilt and then looked at the curtains Rose had made. ‘And afterwards, too, if you like the job. A baby’s not the end of the world, you know.’ She looked round. ‘I admire the way you’ve made the very best of this hut.’

  Rose was startled. Was this a sort of Scandinavian freedom? In England, women were supposed to hide away when they were pregnant.

  As Freda left she asked Rose to have lunch with them the next day, to see the school and get some idea of the work the children were doing.

  Wearing a new dress she had made and a thick winter jacket, Rose set out the next morning with a list of questions for Freda and Erik. On the way, she looked over the sheep. They were going to have babies, too, and it would be good to double their flock when they lambed in the spring.

  Freda’s welcome was warm and soon the new teacher was happily sitting beside a wood stove while mist swirled outside. Erik came in and she blushed a little, but that was all. As usual, the Jensens wanted a report on farm progress.

  ‘We’ve twenty sheep to lamb in the spring,’ Rose said proudly. ‘They’re a sort of cross breed with black faces, nice and fat.’ Not many, but a start. Luke had said he could shear sheep.

  The school was quite small, but there were two rooms and Freda said the sewing class could use the small room while she taught in the larger one. ‘Can you start tomorrow?’ she asked and Rose nodded nervously. ‘There will be no need for preparation. I have the materials ready for hemming some squares to make handkerchiefs. Come and look round.’

  When they got back to the house after a tour of the school, Erik was sorting through some papers. ‘I’ve got some old copies of the Weekly Times – you can have them if you like,’ he offered. ‘It’s printed in Melbourne, but mainly for the country areas.’ Erik beamed at her, pleased that he had thought of it. ‘And now for lunch, we’ve got roast pork from one of our own pigs. Most of it was salted down for bacon, but this is fresh.’

  Rose had an unreal feeling as she sat at the table with a lace cloth and silver knives and forks, eating a civilized meal with good conversation. Civilization was slow in coming to her hut, but in time they might achieve it, if Luke was willing to stay at home and build. It was August; in a month it would be spring and the baby would be one month nearer.

  Well before dark Rose protested that she must go home, but Erik wanted her to see his sheep. She went out with him into a pale sunshine that had replaced the mist and they walked the paddocks, talking all the time. There was always so much to talk about and it was so good to have human company – Freda was right about that.

  As they turned back to the house Rose said, ‘I love your farm, but for one thing. The ring barked trees … they look so ugly and sad, standing there dead in the paddocks.’

  Erik smiled. ‘I was thinking the same thing. I’m going to cut them down next week.’ He paused and then said, ‘I’m so glad you’re going to help Mother in the school, Rose. It will relieve the burden for her a bit. She has a lot of pupils and I think it will be good for you.’

  ‘Why good for me?’ Rose asked demurely. She thought he meant the money would be useful. But Erik turned on her fiercely, his blue eyes blazing.

  ‘Because you’re all alone down there by the creek and it’s not right! It worries me, Rose. I was concerned enough before when Luke was on his own there, but he went off to see … other people quite a lot. But for a young woman straight from England, it’s – well, I shouldn’t say this, but I think it’s criminal of Luke to leave you there. I intend to speak to him when he gets back.’

  Rose gasped; that would cause all sorts of trouble. Luke didn’t like Erik, for a start. Erik added, ‘I won’t let him think that you’ve complained, you never do. But I’m glad we will be seeing more of you, girl.’ Luke might not like that, either.

  Rose left for home, thinking about Erik. He had been so intense, more so than usual. No doubt he too was lonely, but he should go out and find himself a wife. He was such an attractive man. He wouldn’t guess, but she was still trying to fight his attraction. Even allowing for the shortage of girls, you would think he at least could find one when he went to town, she thought. Luke thought he was ‘tied to his mother’s apron strings’ but Rose could see that Freda and Erik were independent people who got on well together.

  The sun had dropped below the western ridge and as she went along the track it seemed dark under the trees. An owl called, then gradually Rose became aware of faint noises in the distance. She stood still and listened. She shivered as the sound she dreaded most seemed to float up the track to meet her.

  It was the howling she had only heard at night and from the safety of the hut. The howling that haunted her dreams. Wild dogs, and she was walking towards them. There was a faint noise some way behind her. Going back might not be possible; there were probably dogs on the track she had just walked down.

  Shakily, Rose broke off the branch of a small tree. Armed with a stick, she should be safe from dogs. They were usually shy, people said. The dogs lived deep in the bush and they were often a cross between the dingo, the true wild dog, and domestic dogs that had run wild. Bert Carr had said they hardly ever attacked humans. They would probably go into the bush if they saw her coming.

  As the track wound down to Haunted Creek, the sounds grew louder. There was a mixture of howling and barking; several dogs seemed to be coming and going, to judge from the noise.

  Then there was another sound: the frantic bleating of sheep. The sheep were being attacked! It rose to a crescendo as if they were running, then died away.

  There was no time for fear. Rose ran down the track towards her sheep, grasping the stick tightly. There m
ust be several dogs to make so much noise … In a few minutes she was level with the sheep and peered into their paddock. The ewes had stopped running; they were all lying in the grass, being savaged by dogs.

  Five dogs, red with blood, tore at the poor ewes as though they had not fed for days. There was blood and guts everywhere, dark on the ground in the fading light. The dogs were large and of various colours, some with the reddish tinge of the dingo.

  White with fury, Rose opened the gate and rushed in. She would beat off the dogs with her stick and even if she saved only one ewe, it would be something. The sheep lay together in a corner, where they had run when attacked, and Rose went straight in to the thick of the slaughter. ‘Get out!’ she shouted. ‘Those are my sheep!’

  The dogs left their meal and turned on Rose, snapping and snarling. Too late, she remembered that their old sheepdog at home had been quite savage if you went near him when he was eating. She should have left them alone.

  They were all on to her, surrounding her. The biggest dog leapt up at her face and she put up a hand to shield herself. A fierce pain shot through her arm and she knew then that the dogs would kill her, possibly eat her as well as the sheep. What a stupid way to end your life! Rose screamed at the big dog but it had no effect. Snapping and growling, it leapt and she dodged, desperately trying to hold it off with her stick. The other dogs were snapping at her heels.

  A shot ripped through the night, echoing among the trees, and the big dog dropped to its belly with a bloodcurdling howl. It rolled over and lay still. The others hesitated, then howled and ran off, going in different directions. There was an unearthly silence for a few heartbeats. The massacre was over.

  Erik threw down his gun, strode across the grass and gathered Rose to him, holding her tightly as though he would never let her go. ‘Did you realize what you were doing? Risking your life? Oh, Rose!’

  It was heaven to be in Erik’s arms, safe after a dreadful ordeal. She leaned against him shivering, feeling his warm strength and the pounding of his heart. He stroked her hair, murmuring as if to a child: ‘You’re safe now, my darling. You’re safe with me.’