by Tony Parsons
Her eyes searched the heights above her for the first sign of her husband. Please, God, let him see the sheet quickly.
Chapter Eight
Up on Jimmy’s Mountain, Andy MacLeod finished his sandwiches and downed the last dregs of tea from his enamel mug. He scuffed earth over the small fire he had lit to boil his billy and then stretched out with his back against a log. From where he lay he had a clear view down the mountain. The homestead was at its base. It was the centre of Andy’s life more than ever with Anne and David there.
Suddenly, he jumped to his feet in one movement. Something was wrong: there was a white sheet laid over the back fence. There must be an emergency.
Andy turned and strode to where the brown gelding was hitched to a sapling. He tightened the saddle girth and was in the saddle and moving down the mountain in a matter of seconds. If there was an emergency, it was likely to involve David.
On her umpteenth trip to the back gate Anne saw her husband coming down the mountain as fast as his horse could handle the slope. She went round to the horse yard where David’s pony stood munching the hay she had fed it.
Andy approached and leapt off his horse in a flash. ‘What’s wrong, Anne? Is it David?’
She shook her head and as briefly as possible explained how Catriona had come to be stuck up on Yellow Rock.
Andy looked across at the two saddled horses and Anne responded to his unspoken question. ‘A fresh horse for you and one for me so I can either go with you or guide Angus up.’
‘Yes,’ he said. He looked down the road past the homestead and saw a cream utility tearing up the road towards High Peaks. It was Jane Campbell at the wheel with Stuart sitting beside her.
‘Dad’s not far behind,’ Stuart said as soon as he got out of the car. ‘We’d turned the horses out into another paddock and they took a while to collect.’
Anne went to Jane and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’ll be all right, Jane. They’ll get her up.’
A few minutes later the red International truck came up the road as fast as it could. Angus nodded a quick greeting and without further discussion he and Stuart had the ramp of the truck down and their two horses on the ground. Anne noted how much Stuart had grown since she’d last seen him. He was a big boy for thirteen.
Anne and Jane watched them as they mounted. There was a rifle in the scabbard of Andy’s saddle and he had added an extra coil of rope.
‘Time to go,’ he said. Angus and Stuart followed him out of the horse yard and down to the first gate. Then they were through and riding fast for the hills and Yellow Rock.
Jane was crying as she watched the men leave. She had heard terrible stories about Yellow Rock and how dangerous it was. It was the very same mountain that had claimed the life of Andrew’s father. Now her small daughter was lying injured somewhere up there.
‘Don’t worry, Jane, Andy will know what to do,’ Anne said as she took Jane’s hand, at the same time trying to keep her eyes trained on the three riders.
‘She’s only a little girl and that would have been a terrible fall. She could be hurt internally.’
‘She wasn’t knocked out, so she couldn’t have hit her head too badly,’ Anne said in as confident a voice as she could muster.
‘How long do you think they’ll be?’
‘If they don’t have any trouble, they should be back here within, say, two and a half hours. While we’re waiting, I’ll make some fresh scones and sandwiches. Perhaps the ambulancemen would like something while they wait. Why don’t you come and help me?’ Anne wanted to get Jane involved and keep her mind off what was happening on the mountain as much as possible.
Andy pushed his horse hard on the lower hill country. He made fair pace until he reached Yellow Rock and from then on it was all hard slogging. Stuart Campbell had ridden over some of High Peaks, while Angus had not been up the mountain since the day they had recovered the body of Andy’s father. When they came out of the valley and began to climb, the horses could not travel faster than a walk.
The steepness of Yellow Rock shook Angus up a little. That last time he had accompanied his father and had been anxious to prove his mettle. He’d had the notion that the danger posed by Yellow Rock was overrated. That first ride up the mountain had disabused him of that idea. Now older and wiser, he fully appreciated the danger of the place. He found it hard to understand why his small daughter would have tried to climb the mountain in the first place, especially on her own. What motivation could Catriona have had to attempt such a ride on her new pony, a pony that had not been reared in this country?
The going got steeper and rougher before they came to a small grassy clearing. It was not much more than five or six yards across and there were kurrajong trees growing quite thickly on the slopes above the clearing. The mare David had ridden was tethered to a gum sapling. She nickered softly when the other horses came into view.
‘We’ll leave the horses here and go the last bit on foot,’ Andrew said as he dismounted. He took the rope and rifle from the saddle and tethered his horse alongside Jess. The Campbells followed his example and then they all set off up the slope. The track narrowed quickly and became much steeper, and Angus had to push himself to keep up with the others.
‘There’s the spot!’ Andy said suddenly as they came up over a small rise. Here they had an almost clear view of the mountain’s side. And there below them were the two children, the grey pony and Ben.
Andrew took in the scene at a quick glance. David had tied the throwing ropes together and one end was anchored to a half-grown kurrajong on the slope above the track. He had gone down hand over hand and he was standing beside a prostrate Catriona. David had made a pillow from a blanket and had placed it under her head. It looked as if he had given her a drink of water and washed her face, too, because there were two canteens on the ground beside her. David waved and called out when he spotted his father on the ledge above.
Andrew did not waste any time. He turned towards Angus and Stuart and proceeded to tell them what had to be done. The big rope had to be tied to the tree around which David had anchored his rope. The blanket under Catriona’s head would be passed beneath her so it acted as a kind of sled. A loop of rope, protected by the blanket, would have to go under her armpits so that Angus and Stuart could pull her back up the slope. When they had done that, he would come back hand over hand with David on his back.
‘What’s to be done with the pony, Andy?’ Angus asked.
‘I’ll have a look at her when I get down there. I don’t think there’s a hope in hell of getting her back up the slope without equipment, and there’s no room to use it anyway. Maybe a dozen men could pull her up, but we haven’t got that sort of manpower.’
‘Do what you think is best, Andy,’ Angus said grimly.
Andrew nodded and, taking up the rope, he went down over the side. It did not take long for his mind to flash back to the day he had done the same thing to recover his father’s body. When he reached the mound of rubble, he put one big hand on his son’s head. ‘You should have waited up top, Davie,’ he said.
‘Cat was crying and it was hot so I came down and washed her face and gave her a drink. I couldn’t leave her down here, Dad,’ he replied.
‘Well, no point worrying about that now. Miss Catriona, how are you feeling? Where do you hurt?’
‘Everywhere,’ she wailed.
‘Anywhere in particular?’
‘My ankle hurts a lot and my shoulder. Everywhere.’ Her shirt and riding breeches were torn and there were some nasty patches of scraped skin.
‘Have you tried to stand up?’ Andy asked.
‘Mmm,’ she mumbled through her tears. ‘Once. My left ankle hurts a lot. Does Mummy know?’
‘Your mother is with David’s mother back at the house. You’ll be with her before long. Your daddy and Stuart are up on the ledge, too.’
‘Yes, I can see them.’
‘Good. You can’t have concussion. Looks like your shoulder a
nd left side took most of the shock.’
He examined Catriona’s left ankle and frowned. It was very swollen and, if not broken, severely bruised.
Andy realised that he could not proceed with his original plan of putting a loop under the girl’s shoulders. That would put too much strain on the damaged shoulder. He would have to double the blanket and cut holes through it for the rope and he would put a second rope around her waist as a precautionary measure in case the blanket tore.
‘I’ll tell you what we are going to do, young lady. I’m going to use this blanket as a sled and your daddy and Stuart will pull you up the slope. When they pull you up the slide, you must keep very still and not struggle. If you do that, it won’t take very long to get you up to your dad. You can do that, can’t you?’
‘I think so.’
‘Good girl. Remember, keep very still.’
Andrew spread the blanket and then doubled it before cutting two holes to take the rope. A loop of his own big rope was then knotted about the girl’s waist.
‘Keep your arms close to your sides, on the blanket, and keep your legs dead straight. That way you won’t get rubbed. Do you understand?’
Catriona nodded in reply.
‘Okay, away we go.’ He looked up to the ledge where Angus and Stuart were anxiously waiting for instructions.
‘Righto, up top. You can start pulling. Easy does it, no jerks, just keep a steady strain on the big rope.’
Angus and Stuart began pulling. Andrew watched critically as Catriona was pulled closer and closer to the track above. Then she was there and he saw Angus bend over and pick her up.
Now that Catriona was safe enough, she thought about her pony.
‘You won’t shoot Princess, will you, Daddy? It wasn’t her fault. It was the snake that frightened her over the edge.’
‘I don’t know, sweetheart. We are not sure we can get her up the slope.’
‘Oh, you mustn’t shoot her, Daddy, you mustn’t,’ she cried.
‘It’s up to Mr MacLeod, Catriona. He will do what’s best. Here, you sit with me for a little while until we’re ready to go back.’
Andrew was looking over the grey pony. Except for the missing areas of skin, he could not find anything seriously wrong with her. She was standing fetlock-deep in the rubble and waiting very patiently, like the lovely mannered thing she was, for someone to guide her away.
‘Right, that’s one down, or up, Davie. Now it’s your turn. You could go up on my back, or we could put a loop round you and pull you up.’
Neither suggestion found any favour with David. He had other ideas. Catriona had pleaded with him not to let them destroy her pony and he was not going to have that happen if he could help it. He had a lot of time to think about the pony and he reckoned he knew how to save her.
‘What about the pony, Dad?’ he asked.
‘I think we’ll have to put her down, I’m afraid. We can’t get her up that slope on our own.’
‘Dad, there’s no need to shoot her. I think I can ride her out.’
Andy looked at his son in amazement. ‘Ride her out? No way. You’d kill yourself.’
‘No I won’t. I worked it out while I was waiting for you. There’s a ledge under this rubble that runs away to the left. We could push some more rubble down to make a better slide down to it. If I lead the pony by the reins and you push her, she’ll slide down to the next ledge. I can lead her for a bit and then ride her down the mountain and meet you at the bottom.’
‘Davie, it’s just too dangerous. I can’t let you do it.’
‘Dad, Cat doesn’t want her pony to die. It was a present and she thinks the world of her. I promised her I would get her pony down off here. I can do it. I know I can.’
‘What do you reckon, Andy?’ Angus called down from above.
‘Angus, you take Catriona back to the house. Stuart had better stay where he is. We’re going to try and save the pony. Tell the women you came on ahead. Just get Catriona back to the house. Can you manage it?’
‘I reckon so.’
‘If you can’t manage her on your horse, stop and wait for us.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Andy. I’ll be seeing you,’ Angus called down.
Andy MacLeod knew he had made a decision he might live to regret, but David had made a promise to Catriona and he couldn’t let her down. If anyone could get the pony off the mountain, David could. Commonsense told him that it would be wiser to put the pony down, but he had to admit that what David suggested might just work.
Andy looked over the edge of the rubble pile and noted that it might be possible to get the pony down to that secondary ledge and from there find a way across the face of the mountain. But would the pony be up to it? She’d had a bad shaking-up and would get another fright when they pushed her down the side.
‘We’ll give it a go, Davie. Let’s start shoving some of this rubble.’
They sat down and began pushing with their legs. Andrew marvelled at his son’s spirit. The sand started to run and then the flow increased so it poured down the slope to the ledge below. In half an hour they had a ramp made of the rubble and a fairly substantial heap on the bottom ledge.
‘Davie, you slide down on to that mound and I’ll see if I can get the pony down to you. You’ll have to be quick and try to catch the reins so she can’t swing about and go overboard. Understand?’
‘I understand, Dad.’
‘Be careful.’
David slid on his bottom down the slope. Andrew took up the pony’s bridle and she followed him like a dog. But she did not like the ramp and backed away.
‘Stuart,’ Andrew called up to the young man who had waited patiently on the track above him, ‘pull those throwing ropes up and undo them. Then throw one down to me.’
When the rope came thudding down, Andrew put a loop under the pony’s back legs. He was going to pull the legs from under her so that she would come down on her rump and slide down the makeshift slide to the next mound. It took a bit of doing, but at last Andy managed it and the grey pony slid down to where David stood waiting for her. She landed beside him and he grabbed her bridle and held it fast. He rubbed the pony’s forehead and talked softly to her until she settled down. She had lost some more skin but it was a miracle she was still alive. David now had to persuade her to jump off the mound on to the solid ground of the slope, which, though grassy, was very steep.
‘Give her a whack with the end of the rope when I jump across, Dad,’ David called to his father. He took the bridle in his right hand and slid, then jumped to the slope. His father gave the rope a big overhead swing and brought it down across the pony’s rump. Princess took off. She half stumbled and almost went down before recovering her footing. Finally she stood upright beside David on the steep slope of the face of Yellow Rock.
David’s grin almost split his face in half. ‘See you down the track, Dad.’
‘You be careful, Davie. Don’t try and ride her yet, just lead her until you get down a bit further. I’ll wait for you.’
Wait? He’d wait forever. What David had done was madness, but it was magnificent. Yet he knew that Anne would have a very different view. There would be fireworks when she found out.
Ben had stood patiently beside them all the while they worked on getting Princess down. Now he looked up at Andrew with a knowing expression in his big brown eyes. He seemed to know it was time to go. ‘I haven’t forgotten you, old fellow,’ Andrew said to the dog, and stroked him lightly on his head.
Andrew and Stuart made their way down the mountain to where their horses were tethered and then rode to the base of Yellow Rock. There was still no sign of David, but Andrew did not expect him for some time. They had a track to come down, whereas David would have to pick his way carefully across that steep face.
‘I wouldn’t like to be riding down there,’ Stuart said and shivered. ‘It would have been better to put the pony down. No horse is worth a person’s life.’
Andrew had a very good idea tha
t his wife would agree. He appreciated what Stuart was saying but Davie was an extraordinary boy. He was a bugger of a boy in some ways, self-willed, sometimes disobedient and overconfident of his talents, but, for all that, he was a bottler.
‘He’s only a kid … ten years old,’ Stuart said.
‘Almost eleven. And that’s David,’ Andrew said.
They sat their horses for a few minutes and then dismounted.
Time continued to pass slowly. After a while Andrew began to worry. Really worry. And then at last he saw boy and pony come into view away to their left. The first thing Andy noticed was that David was holding the pony with a very short rein, and with his right hand – something David never did. As they drew closer, Andrew’s keen eyes picked up the blood running down the boy’s face.
‘I think,’ he said very slowly, ‘he has come a cropper.’
But David still managed a grin as he came up to them.
‘You came off?’ Andrew asked, not able to recall the last time that had happened.
‘It wasn’t the pony’s fault, Dad. Even Jess would have had a job to stay on her feet back there. She’s a good pony, not just a pretty one. She’s done really well.’
‘What about you? Your face is a mess. We’ll have to clean that up when we get to the creek or your mother will have a fit. I reckon that pony must be busting for a drink, too. And why are you riding with your right hand?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing much, Dad.’ He wasn’t going to let on about his shoulder in front of Stuart Campbell, the schoolboy football star.
‘Do you want to rest for a while?’ Andrew asked.
‘No, but you could let me ride Jess and you could lead the pony,’ David suggested.
Andrew nodded. He watched critically as the boy mounted the bigger horse. It was obvious that there was something wrong with his left shoulder: he had trouble pulling himself into the saddle.
When they got to the creek, the water tasted wonderful but it stung David’s face. ‘You’ll have a nasty cut there,’ Andrew observed.