Back to the Pilliga

by Tony Parsons

  I tried to estimate the acreage and though it had to be at least 3,500 acres though Mrs Gordon said it was closer to 4,000. It wasn’t anything like Kamilaroi in area but it was better country in some ways. After we’d driven back to the homestead I had a longer look at the machinery. There were three tractors – two John Deere’s and an old grey Ferguson. I had a soft spot for the ‘Fergy’ because I’d learned to drive on one of them. There was an oldish header and a variety of machinery including a couple of augers and tanks of petrol and diesel in a separate shed. There was probably enough machinery to handle the acreage of grain Harry had grown. An old set of stables was full of bales of hay.

  The house was a four bedroom clad home with enclosed verandahs. It had a large kitchen with both Aga and electric stoves. Both the kitchen and the bathroom had been renovated recently. The lounge and dining rooms were large and there was a good-sized office. It was a comfortable home, not flash, but very liveable.

  Over lunch, which Mrs Gordon insisted I stay for, I asked if she’d be prepared to sell it to me?

  She said that if she didn’t sell it she’d have to put a manager on to run it and go and live with her sister in Dubbo. If she put it on the market she’d have to put up with a lot of people going through the house. Then there’d be all the worry of a dispersal sale and she’d see all Harry had worked for go out the front gate. It would be very distressing.

  I knew almost from the first moment I arrived at Glengarry that this was the place for Gaye and me. Three generations of the Gordon family had lived in the homestead and over the years they’d added to the original block. Through good and bad seasons and the iniquitous death duties, the place had given them all a decent living. My Herefords and my sheep would do well here. There were noted merino studs not far away like Weealla at Balladoran, Roseville Park at Dubbo, Towalba at Peak Hill, the famous Haddon Rig stud and probably another thirty or so studs in the general region.

  I would have a lot of catching up to do if Mrs Gordon was prepared to sell it to me. Over the many years I’d been catching crooks and advising companies about security measures, the owners of these studs had been improving their sheep – putting more meat on them to make the merino more of a dual purpose sheep. Stuart hadn’t put this same effort into our sheep because he was keener on cattle. But here I’d be in the loop, so to speak, and could measure our sheep against the best the other studs could produce. Dubbo was also a great place for showing off cattle because they held big cattle shows there.

  ‘If you sell me Glengarry you won’t have to worry about a clearing sale of your goods. I’ll get a valuer to come and put a price on everything and buy the property on a walk-in walk-out basis. Anything you want, you take,’ I said.

  ‘I’d definitely be taking Jock and Jimbo,’ she said.

  Jock was Harry’s last dog, a black and tan Kelpie, while Jimbo was the monstrous and most certainly neutered black and white cat who followed Mrs Gordon like a shadow.

  She invited me into her lounge room and we sat there for a while in silence. I held my breath because I sensed she was on the verge of making a decision. Presently she nodded. ‘I’d be very happy for you to buy Glengarry and I think Harry would be too.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I said. ‘I’ll make sure I justify your faith in me. Would you mind me delaying closing on the sale for a couple of days, Mrs Gordon? There’s a certain woman in my life who’s waiting very anxiously to hear from me. I wouldn’t like to make as big a decision as this without her being happy about it.’

  ‘Very wise too. Of course you must let your friend come and see Glengarry,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll try and get her to drive up tomorrow unless she’d prefer to fly to Dubbo and meet me there,’ I said.

  I went outside and dialled Gaye on her mobile. ‘I think I’ve found the place for us, Gaye. It’s called Glengarry and it’s in the Gilgandra area. It’s around 4000 acres and the owner, a Mrs Gordon, is prepared to sell it to me. Can you get up tomorrow? If you don’t want to drive you could get the plane to Dubbo and I’ll meet you at the airport.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news. It’s probably easier if I fly up. I’ll ring now and see if I can get a seat,’ she said.

  Gaye was able to get a flight and arrived in Dubbo the next day. After lunch we drove out to Glengarry and I introduced Gaye to Mrs Gordon, and they chatted away. After a cup of tea, we set off on another tour of the property with Mrs Gordon guiding us.

  ‘When we arrived back at the house Mrs Gordon went back into the homestead and I walked Gaye around the buildings, finishing up near the old stables. ‘If we take it,’ I said, ‘I’ll get a bush carpenter to build you a new set of stables. And it’s fairly hot here in summer so I think we could run to an in-ground pool. What do you think?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. The house is great and I’m in love with the pantry. Did you ever see so many preserves? The orchard is a plus and the garden wouldn’t be hard to keep in order. I think you should buy it, Lachie. It’s big enough, isn’t it?’ Gaye asked.

  ‘Quite,’ I agreed. So we went to Mrs Gordon and told her that we would like to buy Glengarry at market value on a walk-in, walkout arrangement and that she could take whatever she wanted.

  I could see that our decision to Mrs Gordon was a real relief because she would be absolved from any worry about the sale. To sell or not to sell had been her constant worry. She couldn’t run the place and if she sold now before she was too decrepit she and her sister might be able to manage the trip they wanted to take to her husband’s ancestral country in Scotland. She and Harry had always wanted to go there do but never had the time.

  Mrs Gordon was aware that I was staying at the Alpha motel in Gilgandra but it didn’t stop her from inviting Gaye to stay the night with her. I think she wanted a good old chinwag with her. Gaye looked at me and I nodded. How could I be disappointed when Mrs Gordon had just sold me her property?

  Before I left Glengarry I walked around the lucerne paddock and saw in my mind’s eye where I would build the cattle shed. I also thought I’d add to the woolshed so that show sheep could be transferred quite easily for shearing. But that was all in the future and there was a lot to do before I could think about showing sheep.

  EPILOGUE

  Gaye stood with me as the last semitrailer unloaded the final run of my Kamilaroi ewes. I’d had to cull them heavily because there were a great deal more than I’d be able to run on Glengarry. A hundred and fifty Hereford cows had arrived the previous day and were grazing contentedly in the river paddocks. We’d had to renovate and enlarge the sheep yards to cater for the sheep but it was a job well done.

  ‘Well, there you are, Mrs Sinclair,’ I said as we watched the last ewes string out across the paddock. ‘Glengarry is stocked now. When you get your horses you’ll be able to ride out and keep an eye on the sheep.’

  Gaye looked across to where some men were working on new stables and yards so we could bring some horses onto Glengarry again.

  ‘It’s worked out well in the finish,’ said Gaye, smiling as she took my hand.

  Flora and Laurie had bought my third of Kamilaroi and I’d given them a special deal on the cattle and sheep left over after I’d taken my share. They’d used Flora’s third of Kamilaroi to finance the purchase of my block. They were going to pay Stuart to look after both blocks. It now looked as if Stuart might be able to raise the money to give Nicole her half of what he owned. So there was a very good chance that Kamilaroi might remain intact.

  ‘This will be more fun than chasing baddies,’ I said.

  ‘Heaps more,’ she agreed. ‘Especially when I beat you shearing a sheep.’

  ‘Only by a blow,’ I said.

  The future looked decidedly promising.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The police personnel in this story attributed to Coonabarabran Police Station never existed nor is the station of this story meant to be a facsimile of the Coonabarabran establishment. It is a station of the Mudgee police sub-distr
ict. During 1972 I was news editor and rural reporter for the 2BS-2MG radio stations. One of my duties entailed visiting the Mudgee Police Station at least once, and sometimes twice, every day. I covered a bank hold-up, a jail break, innumerable road fatalities, domestic problems, stock theft, minor and major burglaries and many other misdemeanours. I am happy to say, albeit belatedly, that I was always treated with great courtesy and given all possible assistance. For this I must acknowledge Superintendent Rees and sergeants Elliott, McLeod and Milton. I had a very happy time at Mudgee and this was due in no small measure to the help I received from every officer of the Mudgee station.

  Back to the Pilliga is, to some extent anyway, a long-delayed thankyou for the above assistance while also acknowledging the role of police in the maintenance of law and order in great areas of country. If I have taken some liberties in the telling of this story, I hope it will be accepted that it was done with the very best of intentions.

  Tony Parsons OAM

  East Greenmount, Queensland