Outback Station

by Aaron Fletcher

  Much of another day was lost in trying to find the horse. Ruel considered it a waste of time to look for the animal, but despite her urgency to reach the station, Alexandra insisted that they make some effort to keep it from dying of thirst or being killed by dingoes. At midday, after one of the jackaroos came perilously close to becoming lost while searching, she gave up and they set out down the track again.

  Several days after the dust storm, they crossed the Darling River. West of the river, summer thunderstorms spawned by the torrid heat swept across the landscape. The dark, thick masses of clouds turned the days into twilight, bringing an occasional heavy downfall of rain or hail. More frequently, the clouds were accompanied only by displays of lightning that ignited grass fires and violent wind squalls that spread them.

  The thunderstorms caused further delays, and Alexandra and the employees sheltered the horses in trees in the event bruising volleys of hail began falling. At night, angry red lines of grass fires were sometimes visible in the distance, and an ominous, thick odor of smoke was constantly in the air. Waves of kangaroos, emus, and other animals passed, fleeing in panic from the flames, but none of the grass fires approached the track. And despite the many hindrances, the journey finally began drawing to an end.

  On the day they crossed Barren Mountain at the southern border of the station, Alexandra remembered the terrifying, appallingly realistic nightmare she had experienced in Bushranger Paddock on their way to Sidney. The practical side of her nature told her that associating the dream with the paddock was absurd, but the more empirical, introspective part of her personality pointed to the paddock as the direct cause of the nightmare.

  Giving in to the latter, she told Ruel not to stop in that paddock for the night. The stockman adjusted the travelling pace, timing their overnight stops so they would pass completely through Bushranger Paddock in the daytime. They crossed the southern border of it early one day, with ample time to be well to the north of the paddock by sunset.

  For the first time during the journey, something startled the spare horses and caused them to bolt, and an hour passed while the jackaroos tried to catch them. A few miles on up the track, the first wagon became mired in mud while passing a billabong. Both teams had to be hitched to the wagon to free it, which took almost another hour.

  When they reached the place where they had camped on their earlier journey, midafternoon had arrived. It was oppressively hot, the air breathlessly still under dark clouds and thunder muttered in the distance. Passing the ashes where her campfire had been, Alexandra looked down the valley at the hill where the bushrangers were buried. Just then, there was a splintering crash from behind and the wagons stopped.

  Muttering oaths under his breath, Ruel rode back with Eulie. Alexandra followed them, seeing that the left rear wheel on the first wagon had collapsed. ''Look at that!" Ruel roared at the jackaroo driving the wagon. "Must you keep on causing trouble for everyone?"

  "It wasn't my fault, Mr. Blake," the jackaroo objected plaintively. "That big rock just jumped up and broke the spokes. How was I to know it would do that? I can't drive around every rock on the track."

  The two stockmen dismounted, looking at the wheel. Reining near the wagon, Alexandra saw that the wheel had apparently passed across the edge of a large, flat stone, which had snapped over with enough force to break the spokes. It had indeed been a freak accident, like many of the other mishaps that had occurred during the westward journey.

  Ruel sighed in resignation, turning to Alexandra. "We'll have to put on a spare wheel, Mistress Kerrick," he told her, "which will take some time. We'll move the supplies from this wagon to the other one, then you can go on to the next paddock to camp. We'll catch up with you."

  The stockmen and jackaroos were sagging in the sweltering heat, and Alexandra was unwilling to put them to so much extra work. "That's quite all right, Ruel," she said. "We'll camp here tonight."

  "No, you want to camp in the next paddock, and that's what we'll do," he insisted. "It'll be late when we catch up, but we can"

  "Truly, it's quite all right," she interrupted, dismounting. "That was only a whimsy of mine, and we'll camp here."

  The stockman merely nodded and accepted her change of mind, but the jackaroos looked relieved, having been spared the additional work. As the men and youths set to work on the wagon, Alexandra unsaddled and hobbled her horse. She released it to graze, then sat on a rock and looked down the valley, the flock in it moving slowly toward the fold on the hill.

  She watched the sheep, keeping her gaze away from the hill, but she remained acutely aware of it. It stood like a huge monument above the grave containing the mortal remains that tainted the land, the spirit from those remains reaching deep into her life. Her acute melancholy was matched by the scene, the torridly hot day dark from the somber, black clouds and the thunder rumbling ominously miles away.

  During late afternoon, when a spare wheel was on the wagon, both of the vehicles were moved off the track and parked. As the jackaroos and stockmen attended to the horses and made camp, Alexandra took her things out of a wagon and built a fire. Having resolved not to sleep that night, she began cooking her meal, although she had no appetite.

  Near sunset, when the flock was in the fold, Alexandra saw the stockman in the paddock riding up the valley. As he drew closer, she saw that he was Isaac Logan. He rode up to her fire, taking off his hat and greeting her. She replied and asked if he had recent news from the home paddock.

  "Aye, only two days ago, mo'm," he said, "when Mr. Jonathan brought fresh supplies. His wife is well and expecting almost any day now. Mr. Kerrick and the head stockman are up at Coobar and Quandong Paddocks, where there have been some grass fires, but not bad ones. No sheep have been lost."

  "Have you had any fires here?"

  "No, mo'm, but I've had more than my share of trouble with dingoes. A whole pack of them moved in a few weeks ago, and I haven't been able to find their den. It's somewhere on the other side of that rise just beyond the hill where the fold is, but that's all I know about it."

  "Have they killed any sheep?"

  "No, mo'm, but they've kept me and my jackaroo busy a few times when the flock has been out of the fold. Mr. Jonathan said that as soon as there are some extra men at the home paddock, he'll send them down here to help me find that den and kill the dingoes."

  "Very well. When I get to the home paddock, perhaps Ruel and Eulie can come back with the jackaroos there and help you."

  The man nodded and spoke a word of farewell, then moved away. He tethered his horse and sat down at the other fire for a long chat, taking a dented, fire-blackened billy from his coat pocket. One of the jackaroos filled it with water to make tea for him as he and the other two stockmen talked, and Alexandra heard an occasional word of their conversation.

  The good news about Catherine made her less depressed, and Alexandra was also pleased that there had been no severe grass fires. She ate and put the leftovers in a covered pan, then unrolled her blanket away from the fire. Still intending to stay awake, she lay down to rest as the stifling intensity of the heat diminished with nightfall.

  At the other fire, the jackaroos lay on their blankets as the men talked. Just as Isaac said something about dingoes, Eulie leaned toward the fire to pick up his billy, the flames highlighting his distinctly Aborigine features. The combination of the words and the glimpse of Eulie's face stirred a memory in the back of Alexandra's mind.

  For the most fleeting instant it barely nudged her conscious thoughts, then it was gone again into the murky depths of other memories. Very remote and from long ago, it had seemed more of a vague feeling of importance than a cohesive memory. She struggled to recall it, but failed.

  The general impression of importance remaining, she wondered if it had been a momentary confusion of memories. She could think of no obvious correlation between her having heard Isaac say something and having seen Eulie's face at the same time. The possibility that the two could be associated with anythin
g meaningful to her seemed very unlikely.

  She continued thinking about it, events from her past having been summoned up by disassociated things before. After a time, Isaac left, and Ruel and Eulie went to sleep. With hours to pass while lying awake and waiting for dawn, Alexandra looked up into the thick darkness of the cloudy, nighttime sky and kept searching her memory.

  She woke in Stygian darkness just before dawn,

  realizing that she had fallen asleep despite her resolve to stay awake. The memory she had been trying to isolate was no longer buried in the recesses of her mind. At the very forefront of her thoughts, it completely possessed her.

  More than important, it was paramount, of vital significance. It was a gleaming beacon of hope, offering a means to dispel the somber shadow that had lurked over her life and threatened her family for decades. At the same time, to the practical side of her nature, the train of thought keyed by the memory was utterly ridiculous, too pointless even to contemplate.

  As the warring impulses seethed within her, the stockmen and jackaroos stirred, heating up their leftovers for breakfast and packing up to leave. Alexandra forced herself to eat, then saddled her horse. A short time later with another cloudy, torridly hot day beginning, they set out down the track.

  The previous evening, Isaac's mention of dingoes and the glimpse of Eulie's face in the firelight had almost reminded Alexandra of her own conversation of years ago about dingoes with an Aborigine while sitting at a fire. The memory now clear in her mind, it had been on the night before her wedding, when she had talked with Mayrah Garrity.

  Her English imperfect, Mayrah had searched for words to convey that dingoes purged the land, purifying it. Pat had overheard her and understood her to have said that they were scavengers, devouring noxious offal, but she had expressed a more profound thought. She had meant that dingoes consumed that which was malignant and rendered it benign.

  From personal experience, Alexandra knew Aborigines had means of perception and other abilities that seemed inexplicable, but the practical aspect of her nature rejected the supernatural. Instead, she attributed it to folk wisdom and racial memory from their millennia in Australia that gave them heightened senses and a closer affinity with the land. Some of their beliefs, including that about the dingoes, seemed mere superstitions.

  However, she wanted to believe what Mayrah had told her. Through her religious convictions, she accepted the existence of influences on a higher plane, and fate was a reality to her. She had also experienced moments while alone in the outback when she had felt a vital force about the land. With mysterious qualities beyond its physical characteristics, some things about it defied analysis from a practical standpoint.

  Riding up the track beside the stockmen, Alexandra tried to reconcile her conflicting thoughts. There were no delays for once, and the horses knew they were near home, setting a pace that would cover most of the distance to the home paddock by sunset. Ruel and Eulie discussed the cloudy sky which heralded thunderstorms. At the end of the day, however, no storm had arrived, and Alexandra was still undecided.

  When they set out the following morning, the home paddock only a few miles away, Alexandra remained in a turmoil. She finally resolved the conflict. Never passively accepting adversity, she was always ready to confront fate, preferring to do anything at all rather than nothing. The decision made, she then thought about how to put what Mayrah Garrity had said into practice. By the time the home paddock came into view, she had decided all the details, knowing precisely what she had to do. The jackaroos whooped in joy as Ruel and Eulie commented to each other in satisfaction. The long journey had ended.

  Interrupting their remarks, she told Ruel what she wanted him and the other men to do. If the stockmen were disappointed, they concealed it completely, both of them always ready to follow orders with energy and dedication. "We'll leave immediately, then, Mistress Kerrick?" Ruel asked.

  "Yes, as soon as we can get fresh horses and make ready. Let's take the wagon that has the supplies in it.

  If we need more supplies for three or four days, get them out of the storeroom. We'll also need one of those large kettles that are used for rendering mutton tallow, as well as some mattocks and shovels. Leave the wagon that has my baggage in it and tell Kunmanara to take it up to the house for me."

  "Aye, very well. What are we going to be doing, Mistress Kerrick?"

  "I'll tell you when we get there."

  Ruel nodded, turning and shouting at the jackaroos with the spare horses to ride forward. As the youths rode up past the wagons with the animals, Ruel told them to ride ahead to the pens and select fresh horses for everyone, as well as a team for the wagon.

  Their hopes of resting after the long journey dashed, one of them exclaimed in dismay. "You shut your tucker hole!" Ruel shouted at him. "Now get those horses to the pens and pick out fresh ones!"

  The jackaroos rode on down the track at a gallop, and Alexandra fully understood how they felt. The huge house at the end of the track was a haven of comfort, and she would have greatly preferred to stay instead of leaving again on what could very well be a foolish waste of effort. With the dark clouds thicker than ever overhead, she was sure her husband was still out in the paddocks watching for grass fires, which would eliminate her trying to explain to him what she was hard put to explain to herself.

  At the foot of the hill, Alexandra took the mail out of a wagon and rode up to the house. Eulie followed her to take her horse to the pens for a fresh one. As she went inside, Martha came down the stairs and Creighton out of the family parlor. Greeting her happily, they looked much stronger and more content than when they had arrived at the station.

  When she told them that she was leaving again, they were taken aback. "It's something I must do, but I'll return within three or four days," Alexandra explained, taking the letters to Catherine out of the mail and handing the rest to Creighton. "Melissa and her sisters are well and happy. Their letters to you are in that, and when I get back, I'll tell you all about what they've been doing recently. Where is Catherine?"

  "In the garden at the side of the house," Martha replied. "But do you absolutely have to leave again so soon? You must be very tired."

  Feeling exhausted in spirit as well as body, Alexandra repeated that she had to leave immediately. She made her farewells to the couple, then went down the hall to the garden door. As she stepped out, she saw Catherine reading a book on a bench in the conversation nook shaded by the rose bower. The profusion of late-summer roses made a perfect setting for her, now heavily pregnant and more bewitchingly beautiful than ever.

  Crying out in delight as she saw Alexandra, she dropped her book and started to get up. Alexandra rushed to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and sitting beside her, then they embraced and kissed. "I'm ever so pleased that you're back, Mistress Kerrick," Catherine said blissfully. "The days have been so long while I've waited for you to return."

  Alexandra sighed regretfully, kissing her daughter-in-law again, then sat back and held her hand. "Catherine, I'm dreadfully sorry, but I must attend to something immediately, and I'll be gone for three or four days. But I'll come back as soon as I possibly can, then I'll stay."

  Her joy changed to disappointment, then Catherine nodded in resignation. "I know you wouldn't go if you didn't have to, Mistress Kerrick. Please do hurry back as soon as possible." She smiled wryly, placing a hand on her stomach. "I'll try to prevail upon your grandchild to wait."

  "Please do," Alexandra said, laughing. "In the meantime, here are letters from your parents. They and the rest of your family are well and happy, and I spent a very pleasant evening with them. I'll tell you all about it when I get back, my dear."

  Catherine thanked her for the letters as they hugged and kissed again, then Alexandra left and went around the path to the front of the house. There she met Jonathan, who had just returned from taking supplies to a paddock. He was more troubled than any of the others that she was leaving, wanting her to stay with Catherine, but
he never questioned her decisions.

  A jackaroo rode up to the house, leading Alexandra's fresh horse, and Jonathan helped her up into the saddle. As she rode down the hill with the youth, the wagon was moving away from the pens and buildings, the stockmen riding ahead of it and jackaroos following with spare horses. Alexandra took her place beside the men, turning onto the track.

  After the normal, solidly rational surroundings of the house, what Alexandra intended to do seemed more of a fool's errand than ever to her, and she wanted to be done with it. The horses were well-rested and spirited, and she and the stockmen rode up the track at a fast canter, the wagon and spare horses pacing them. When darkness fell, they carried lanterns to light the way, continuing on up the track until late into the night.

  At dawn the next morning, they set out again after having rested for a few hours. The threat of thunderstorms during the past few days was drawing to a climax, as unbroken black clouds hovered overhead and thunder steadily drummed in the near distance. It was insufferably hot, the breathlessly still air tense with enormous forces that had gathered to a trembling peak, poised on the brink of erupting in a violent cataclysm.

  When they reached the center of Bushranger Paddock shortly after noon, Isaac Logan and his jackaroo were driving their flock back to the fold because of the ominous weather. Alexandra and the stockmen turned off the track into the valley, and the wagon lurched over stones and ruts under the deep grass as it followed them. Down the valley, the dense clouds seemed to brush the top of the hill overlooking the grave.

  In the supercharged atmosphere, St. Elmo's fire flickered among copses and on the isolated trees scattered about, fiery jets dancing on the uppermost limbs. Frightening the sheep, it made them hard to control as Isaac and his jackaroo hurried them up the hill toward the fold. The dogs raced about and turned back sheep that tried to break away from the flock.