The Call of the High Country

by Tony Parsons

  ‘David,’ Catriona screamed as she ran towards him. Crying, she fell to her knees beside him.

  David put his arms around her and waited patiently for her sobs to subside. And then he looked beyond her and saw his father standing at the mouth of the cave with the horses.

  ‘I reckoned you’d find your way here,’ Andrew said grimly. He looked at his son, who was covered in black soot, and a great wave of relief passed over him.

  ‘You crazy, crazy man,’ Catriona said. ‘You should have left those damned sheep. And how did Nap get here? He was with me. What’s wrong with Clancy?’

  ‘He’s burned his feet quite badly, I think. He must have waited on the rock until the fire passed by and then come looking for me. I think he saw or smelt Nap go by like the wind. Nap picked up this mob and we got them in here. After a while Clancy found us but he couldn’t stand up any longer. Don’t know how he got this far with those feet. Dad, how are you? How’s the fire?’

  ‘I think we’ve saved most of the Poitrel sheep. There’s a couple of dead ones up top and there’s probably more elsewhere, but some of those we missed could have got in among the rocks. We’ll have to winkle them out or they’ll starve. What’s our next move?’

  ‘Dad, we either get the hell out of here or else we can all sit down and have a drink of tea.’

  Andrew and Catriona stared at him in amazement. And then Andrew laughed so uncharacteristically that Catriona wondered if he, too, had become a little crazy.

  ‘If it comes to that, I reckon we’ve earned a drink of tea,’ Andrew said. ‘Especially as we went without breakfast. But what about Greg and those film blokes? God knows what they’re thinking.’

  ‘Catriona knows where the billy is and I have tea things in my saddlebag. We’ll have no trouble finding some burning wood! When you get the billy going, you might care to ride up to the top of the ridge and wave to Greg. And then we’ll have to see what’s happening elsewhere and get those film blokes home. And someone is going to have to take Clancy to the vet. He’s in a lot of pain.’

  ‘Poor Clancy,’ Catriona said as she patted the dog’s head.

  ‘I want you to get him in to the vet’s as fast as you can,’ David said. ‘I reckon he’ll be lucky to work again. Greg can go with you. He can keep his eyes open for the Missens. Oh, and I’d call in at the house before you leave. Your face is very sooty.’

  Catriona put a hand to her face and grimaced when it came away black.

  ‘I must look a sight,’ she said.

  ‘Not to me you don’t,’ David said. ‘You looked like an angel when I saw you standing there.’

  Later, when Andrew had returned from the ridge and they had all drunk their tea, David got to his feet. ‘I suppose we’d better make tracks.’

  ‘What about Clancy?’ Andrew said.

  ‘Heave him up to me when I get on.’

  Clancy whined softly when Andrew lifted him on to the saddle in front of David. ‘You’ll be right, old mate. The vet will give you something for your pain.’

  They rode back through the devastation with Nap shepherding the sheep behind them. Only a dog with superlative holding ability could have held sheep together under the conditions that prevailed on the ridge, and David had never been prouder of a dog than he was of Nap that day.

  Greg rode across the ridge towards them, pointing back behind him. The film men were still shooting as they approached. The western sky was full of dark clouds and away in the distance they could hear the low rumble of thunder.

  ‘We’re going to get a storm,’ Andrew said to David and Catriona. ‘There was a storm came up after the fire that went through Inverlochy. It came after a westerly like this one. Rained a dollop. Let it be quick.’

  But the film-makers were not concerned with the likelihood of a storm. They were beside themselves with joy because they had just shot one of the best and most authentic pieces of film they could have hoped for. And as they had filmed the sooty trio emerging from the smoke, with David holding Clancy across the pommel of his saddle, the figures had been obscured enough for them to pass for their leading actors. Even Clancy’s burnt feet were real, and though not in the script, they would have no trouble working it in.

  David hardly acknowleged the film crew. His immediate concern was to get Clancy to the vet.

  ‘Greg, I want you to take Clancy and go with Catriona back to the house and then on to the vet. You can take the ute. There’s a shotgun under the seat.’

  ‘Cat, tell the vet that no matter what it costs he’s to try and get Clancy right. If he doesn’t know much about burns, have him call in a specialist. Be very firm about it, okay?’

  ‘I understand. I’ll have to leave him there, won’t I?’

  ‘No doubt. Tell the vet I’ll ring him later on tonight.’ He handed Clancy across to Greg and waved them away. Just before they left, he leant over and kissed Catriona on the cheek.

  ‘See you later, Cat. Go for your life. I’ll get King back to you after this is all over.’

  David wheeled his horse and walked it across to where the three men from the film company were talking together. ‘You fellows should follow Cat and Greg, but you’ll need to hurry or you’ll lose them. Dad and I won’t have time to look out for you. There’s a storm on the way and your gear will get soaked.’

  The three men got on their horses and set off after Catriona and Greg.

  ‘Thank God they’re out of our hair,’ David said as he and Andrew trotted their horses down the hill towards the men working along the flanks of the fire. It had burned into High Peaks but had been stopped by the firefighters on a ridge below Yellow Rock. It was now burning itself out among the jumbled rocks and stony gullies. But there was a lot of smoke coming from the far boundary of Poitrel, and David wondered whether the fire had burned into Strath Fillan. The problem was that they couldn’t be in two places at once. Their main worry was the fire that had gone down past Wallaby Rocks. If the wind changed, it could spread into Jimmy’s Mountain and come back over the hill behind the homestead.

  ‘It should be raining within two hours, if we’re lucky,’ David said.

  As they continued on down the hill towards the Poitrel–Inverlochy road, they saw a rider approaching. It was Angus Campbell on a Poitrel horse. He lifted his hand in greeting as he came up to them.

  ‘You fellows look a bit worse for wear,’ he said in his usual deadpan way.

  ‘We had a brush with the fire. Cat will tell you about it later on,’ David said.

  ‘Where is Catriona?’ Angus barked.

  ‘She and Greg have taken Clancy to the vet. His feet were burned in the fire. Where is it now?’

  ‘I think this side of the fire is under control,’ Angus said. ‘Thank God for the rocks. You can get in and do something when there’s rocks to break it up. There’s a team over on the Hamiltons’ and they’re having a hard time of it. I’ve just sent another ten men over there, but getting water up for the backpacks is the killer. It’s a hell of a caper in this hill country.’

  ‘We know,’ David said. He looked up at the sky, which had darkened considerably, and the thunder was much louder now, too. ‘Looks as if we might get some help.’

  ‘I sure hope so. I suppose the head of the fire is still heading east?’ Angus said.

  ‘It is at the moment. It would take an army of men to stop it in that country. Of course, it could turn and come down on us from behind Jimmy’s Mountain.’

  ‘Hopefully we won’t have to worry about that. You might remember, Andy, that our fire was stopped by a storm that came up just like this one,’ Angus said.

  ‘Yes. Well, things could be a lot worse. If Kate hadn’t spotted it early, or if it had started yesterday, we might have lost the lot,’ Andrew said.

  ‘Did you lose any sheep?’ Angus asked.

  ‘We did see a few dead ones and don’t know how many more there could be. And we’ll have a bit of fencing to do,’ David said.

  ‘There’s no doubt that those Mi
ssen boys are pure poison,’ Angus said.

  ‘If it was them – and Kate was certain it was – I feel really sorry for Roy and Bessie. This will kill them. They borrowed a lot of money to get the stupid buggers out and they’re not out five minutes and they’re in trouble again. Have you heard anything on the radio?’ David asked.

  ‘Too damned busy,’ Angus said.

  Two hours later David and Andrew rode home in pouring rain. They were thoroughly soaked, as were their dogs beside them. They rode into their horse yard with an anxious Anne waiting for them on the front verandah. After they had had hot baths and a good feed and changed into some clean clothes, Catriona and Greg came racing up the front steps to the verandah.

  ‘You’ll never believe what’s happened!’ Catriona said. ‘Bill and Wade have been killed. There was a car chase on the Bunnan Road. Their car skidded, ran off the road and smashed into a tree. They were going so fast their ute was literally wrapped around it. They were both dead when the police arrived.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Anne said. ‘Who could have imagined those two boys would end up like that? Poor Roy and Bessie.’

  There was silence on the verandah as the rain continued to pour down. Nobody knew what to say.

  ‘What’s the news on Clancy?’ David asked at last.

  ‘The vet said he thought that in time the pads would grow a kind of lining, but his feet would never stand much work. You could use him for a stud dog or perhaps put boots on him so you could show off with him, but that’s about all. The vet wants you to go and see him.’

  ‘I don’t know what you put that poor dog through up there. You’re a crazy young man, David,’ Anne said. ‘Catriona, why you would ever want to be involved with a man of this family is beyond me. Why don’t you consider a doctor for a husband? Or a vet?’

  ‘I’ve waited a long time for this man,’ Catriona said, smiling across at David.

  ‘Just as well, I suppose. I am getting old and one mad MacLeod male is enough for me to handle.’

  ‘Nonsense, Mum,’ David said. ‘You’re far from being old. And Nap was trying to save our sheep. I cheated on him once when I sent him away for three years, and I wasn’t going to let him down again. I knew I could make that cave if the worst came to the worst. The only tragedy is Clancy’s feet. Will they recover enough for me to work him at Canberra? I’ll work him in boots if I have to.’

  ‘There’s a hoodoo on Clancy,’ Andrew said. ‘The dog is a genius, the like of which a man gets only once in a lifetime, and yet you can’t take advantage of what he has to offer.’

  ‘I’ll get him there this time,’ David said grimly. ‘I don’t care what it costs me.’

  The story of Nap’s feat spread like wildfire and he made the national news for the second time. The story ‘Kelpie saves sheep in bushfire’ was seen by millions of viewers in eastern Australia. Bruce McClymont saw it and was beside himself with joy because his Nap dogs were the boom kelpies of Australia. Two animal welfare organisations initiated moves to honour Nap’s courage in first helping Kate Gilmour and then sheep threatened with death by fire. These awards would take about a year to be formalised.

  Later that afternoon, with the rain still coming down in torrents, the MacLeods sat and discussed what needed to be done in the wake of the fire.

  ‘Fencing first,’ Andrew said.

  ‘You’ll not touch one piece of fence, Andy,’ Anne said. ‘You’re to take a couple of days off after today. Just sit down and read the papers.’

  ‘Mum’s right, Dad. Forget the fencing. I’ll get a contractor onto it. We’ve got the money now. More important than anything right now is Clancy. First thing in the morning I’m going in to see what the vet has to say about him.’

  Clancy’s feet were encased in bandages but his tail wagged furiously when he heard David’s voice in the surgery the next day.

  ‘G’day, David. They tell me you had a close shave up there yesterday,’ Eric Chalmers said.

  ‘It was close enough,’ David replied.

  ‘That old Nap must be a marvel. He thinks like a human being.’

  ‘He keeps on surprising me, that’s for sure, and I thought I knew him backwards,’ David said.

  ‘Those kelpies of yours must be about the best dogs in the whole damn country.’

  ‘I don’t know how we’d get on without them. Now what’s the news on Clancy?’ David asked with a frown.

  ‘It could be worse, but then again it could be a lot better,’ Chalmers said with a grin. ‘I’ve consulted with the Vet School in Sydney and also with a human doctor who’s a burns specialist. They agreed with my own treatment and prognosis, although there are a couple of new options available for humans so I’ll try one of those medications. Clancy’s pads have been cooked and most of the skin has either sloughed off already or will do soon. We believe he will grow new skin but it will be thinner. It won’t have the toughness of his old pads, but we can look at perhaps toughening it artificially. There are a couple of things we can try. You would probably be aware that some of the old hands used a wattle-bark solution. I can talk to you about that later. I should warn you, David, as I told Catriona yesterday, that it is very unlikely Clancy will be any good for hard work,’ Chalmers said.

  ‘Okay, so he won’t be able to do hard work, but could he still run a trial?’

  Chalmers looked David up and down. He had more time for this young man than almost anyone else he knew. ‘How good is Clancy, David?’ he asked without answering David’s question.

  ‘Only Dad and I know about it, so let’s keep it between us. Clancy is the best trial dog in Australia. He’s a freak. Nap is perhaps a better sheepdog, but Clancy would wipe the floor with him on three sheep. If I can get Clancy to Canberra, I think I can win the National with him, even as a Maiden dog. That’s how good he is.’

  ‘And Andy agrees?’

  ‘Dad hasn’t worked him before but he says he’s never seen a better dog,’ David said.

  ‘If we have to, we can put boots on him. If Clancy is that good, he’s worth putting a lot of effort into to try and get him right. We don’t have a lot of time in terms of healing, so the sooner we can get the new skin to grow the sooner we can start toughening up his new pads. You won’t be able to work him until the last month, and I’d work him in boots right up to the last. You should get him well used to working in boots in case you have to use them at the trial. How many runs would he have to do?’

  ‘Depends on how he scores. Top Maiden dogs go into the Open. If he gets into the Open and then into the Open final, he would have three runs.’

  ‘Gee, that’s forty-five minutes of running. It’s not much for a seasoned dog but a lot for a dog with wonky feet.’

  ‘I have to give Clancy the chance. I may not make it to Canberra again. That’s why this next National is so important to me.’

  ‘You’d better leave Clancy here for a few more days. I’ll watch him closely, and when I’m satisfied that his pads are healing, you can take him back and continue with the treatment.’

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ David said. ‘The money doesn’t matter. It’s getting Clancy better that matters. His smashed leg put him out last time, and now this. You get a dog like this once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky, and these things happen.’

  ‘That’s life, David. You go and get your fencing up and leave me to worry about Clancy.’

  So David left the vet’s surgery with mixed feelings. Well, he thought, if Clancy did have to wear boots at the National, it would be a talking point in the caravans all over Canberra Showground.

  David was fortunate to be able to get hold of a fencing contractor almost immediately. It was important to get the fencing done as quickly as possible because High Peaks was now running nearly double its usual sheep flock. Feed had come away well after the big storm and this helped with the heavy stocking on High Peaks. David took the opportunity while the wethers were all together to drench them, and then the Poitrel sheep were drafted off by earmark and ta
ken back to their old paddocks. Here the feed had come away wonderfully well since the fire and all the burnt ground was covered in sweet new grass. The wethers trotted away and in the space of only a few minutes were spread out across the hills.

  ‘They know where they are, Dad,’ David said to his father as he watched the sheep move quickly across the paddocks to old haunts.

  ‘They sure do. Well, they’ve got some fresh new grass now and they’ll do real well on it. The fire would have killed all the worm eggs, too. Things could have been worse. Looks like we lost about fifty sheep in all.’

  ‘And Clancy’s feet,’ David added sombrely.

  They rode back through the green paddocks with a sense of relief that conditions were back to normal: the Poitrel sheep were back in their old paddocks and High Peaks had reverted to its usual stocking rate. They were within a squeak of purchasing Glen Morrison, the property opposite Poitrel. It ran back in the general direction of the Cassilis Road and, except for a section of hilly country, it was first-class grazing land very similar to Inverlochy country. It was probably too rich for merino sheep, though the famous Collaroy strain of merinos had been grazed there way back in the early days of settlement. It was also very good cattle-fattening country, and this fitted in with David’s idea of taking some of his Aberfeldy cattle there.

  David reckoned he had enough on his plate for two men to handle, but he loved his work. He just hoped he would have the time to put in with Clancy before Canberra – and he hoped the wattle-bark solutions would shape up to be as good as the old hands reckoned.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Now that the fencing had been completed and Glen Morrison was as good as theirs, David turned his attention to the next major consideration – his marriage to Catriona. So far their engagement had been kept secret, although Anne had had her suspicions. Angus had not yet got wind of David’s Queensland inheritance, which was a minor miracle in Merriwa. It was only the fact that it was a legacy from interstate that kept the news from spreading. But when Angus learned that the MacLeods had bought Glen Morrison, he was likely to be just as upset as he had been when Wilfred White offered them Poitrel. Jack Carruthers, who owned Glen Morrison, had a lot of time for the MacLeods and was pleased to be selling to them. He was also happy about not paying an agent’s commission, which amounted to a good few thousand dollars.