Wild Lands

by Nicole Alexander

  ‘Bronzewing,’ Adam answered, reefing his arm away. Was the soldier stupid? In such close proximity Bidjia would spear him through before he could lift a weapon.

  ‘What sort of name is that? What’s your real name?’ James demanded. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Leave them be, James,’ Mr Southerland said curtly. ‘We need them.’ He held up his hand for emphasis. ‘Well, will you help us?’

  ‘They can’t be trusted,’ James answered with conviction. ‘That man is –’

  ‘The best hope of getting the lady out of here.’ Adam completed the sentence and lifted an eyebrow mischievously at Kate. She didn’t know where to look.

  The overseer flattened his lips together. ‘Well, at the moment,’ he said testily, ‘they’re all we’ve got, James. So, Bronzewing, what do you think, head straight for Stewart’s run? It’s due south.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be safe,’ Adam replied.

  ‘Safe? Why, do you think those warriors will come after us?’

  Adam glanced fleetingly at Kate. ‘It’s not the time to be talking, put it that way. We came across a dead white yesterday and another farm had its outbuildings burnt. A big place with a smokehouse and stables. The homestead was still standing.’

  ‘That’s the Stewart place,’ George confirmed. ‘Did you see any of the men?’

  ‘Holed up inside, I reckon. By the tracks it appears that Mundara and his followers kept going,’ Adam told him. ‘They killed the lad and then saw your farm. Either they reckoned it would be easier pickings or they had a reason to go there. I can’t be sure which, but he sure knew what he was after when he got there.’ He looked at Kate, who was sitting on a log retying the twine around the sole of her shoe.

  ‘Come.’ Bidjia began to lead them away, then turned to Adam. ‘The redcoat knows us,’ he muttered. ‘This is what happens of trying to do good.’

  ‘There’s no point heading east,’ the Major exclaimed. ‘We need to travel south as George told you.’

  Adam drew their attention to the line of smoke on the horizon. ‘Good luck with that.’ Hitching the strap of his musket across a shoulder, he too began to walk. ‘We go to the east first and then we’ll circle back when we’re clear of this. I’m not walking into trouble. Once we get to the Stewart land you’re on your own.’

  ‘Now wait just a minute,’ James shouted, ‘there are five men here. We’ve got muskets and pistols. I said wait. You, sir, are a British subject and I’m ordering you and your men to turn around this instant and take us south directly.’

  ‘Actually,’ Adam replied, stopping to wipe sweat from his brow, ‘I don’t call myself subject to much at all.’

  Jardi sniggered.

  The Major lifted his musket. Adam moved swiftly, knocking the firearm from his grip and grabbing him by the front of his tunic. ‘Don’t worry,’ he brushed at the material, ‘I won’t dirty your fancy uniform.’ He pushed the soldier away from him.

  ‘We’ll do it your way,’ George said calmly, stepping between the two of them and breaking the stare that threatened to lead to a fist-fight. ‘We’ve more chance of getting safely out of here together than splitting up.’ He turned to his friend. ‘Don’t we, James?’

  ‘This isn’t finished,’ James told Adam, stooping to collect his rifle.

  He gave a laugh in reply. ‘With your lot, it rarely is.’

  ‘Wait,’ Kate called after them. ‘What about the Hardys? What about Mr Callahan?’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do for them, miss,’ Adam advised. ‘The farmhouse is a good ten mile behind us now. Best we move on and leave them be.’

  Lifting her skirts Kate stormed after him. ‘Leave them be? The Hardys were doing their best to carve themselves a home out of the wilderness. They were good people. They deserve to be buried. They deserve to be treated with respect. Your, your indifference, sir, startles me.’

  Adam turned on Kate, walking towards her so that she backed away under his fierce stare. ‘It is not indifference, miss, and they stay where they lay.’

  Chapter 24

  1838 July – heading east

  Kate wasn’t sure when the exhaustion ebbing at her bones gave way to numbness. At some stage the feeling simply dissipated into something dazed and unknowable. Perhaps it was the speckled light shining through the leaves of the timber they walked through or the enticing glimpses of a watchful sky that drew thoughts away from the most immediate of concerns. But gradually the placing of one foot after the other, the constant caution of watching where one trod and the never-ending breathlessness of keeping pace with the others overtook all else.

  In an attempt to block out the awful images of the previous night, the memory of the Reverend intruded, making Kate ponder on the possibility of a God. For years she’d been a non-believer, never even considering the concept of faith except in terms of the authorities using the church as a way of keeping the masses at bay, curtailing them into righteousness with the threat of fire and brimstone. Kate knew now that she’d been right. Out here, beyond the outer limits, where there was no threat of religion, no pretend salve for the needy, the weak and the lost, only the misguided attempts of settlers trying to recreate pastoral life on Sundays, life existed at the most basic level. Men, women and children were left to rot where they fell. Convicts ran away, the natives rose up against the whites, the whites against the natives and the haves still suppressed the have-nots. If ever a body needed proof that there was no great and almighty God, the far-flung reaches of the colony of New South Wales had shown as much.

  On only one point could Kate ever find herself in agreement with the Reverend Horsley – there was indeed a hell, and it was here.

  At a small creek Kate drank greedily. She desperately wanted to dangle her aching feet in the cool water that fed down from the mountains, but their escorts were determined to press on.

  ‘Miss Carter needs to rest,’ James called out for the second time that day.

  Ahead, Bidjia and Jardi slowed. Adam grimaced at the thought of a delay, but aware that the girl would be refreshed by even a short break, he reluctantly agreed. It would be in everyone’s best interest. He quickly set all the men on guard at each point of the compass. The Major complained about being dictated to, intent on staying by the girl’s side, until Mr Southerland approved of their guide’s caution.

  When the men had merged with the trees and Adam had checked their surroundings and been assured of their safety, he returned to where the girl sat by the trickling creek. She was fiddling with a shoe again, retying the leather strap and flexing her foot to ensure it was good and tight. He knew he shouldn’t stare from afar but he couldn’t help but notice that most of her dark hair had come loose from the bun at the nape of her neck to hang in curly tendrils in the middle of her back. She moved to kneel at the water’s edge and, cupping her hands, began to wash her face and neck. Kate Carter was as pretty as he remembered.

  ‘You should have had that shoe mended.’

  Kate started at his approach and jumped up quickly. Beads of water trickled down her skin as she did her best to brush the moisture from her face. ‘I’ve not the skill, and the man who might have repaired it for me is now dead.’

  ‘A friend?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Yes, and a good man.’ She dabbed at damp skin with her sleeve.

  ‘Then I am sorry for your loss.’ He sat down on the ground and stared at the water. ‘True friends are hard to come by.’

  Kate wondered if he too had lost a friend. She stood awkwardly for a moment and then joined him on the ground. ‘Why didn’t you tell Mr Hardy that you were travelling with natives the day you came to the farm?’

  ‘You know the answer to that.’ Adam picked up a pebble and skipped it across the surface of the water. ‘Some whites are not so welcoming where blacks are concerned.’

  ‘You speak as if you were one of them.’

  Adam didn’t respond. He wanted to know how she’d got the scar that cradled one eye like a question mark. Instead he asked w
hy she had journeyed so far.

  Kate removed the few hairpins left holding her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. There weren’t enough left to secure it properly so she threw the useless pins in the water. ‘There are few opportunities available to women. I came where I was wanted.’

  ‘It is a fair journey for a woman.’

  ‘It is a fair journey for anyone, man and beast alike.’

  Adam chuckled.

  Kate turned to him. ‘Are you laughing at me, sir?’

  He lifted his hands in mock defence. ‘Not at all, it’s just some time since I’ve been in the company of a woman who speaks her mind.’

  Kate sighed. ‘Well, it will not be the first time that I’ve been accused of outspokenness.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Adam argued, ‘you have a brain and an opinion, why shouldn’t you share it with others?’

  Kate didn’t know what to say. This man was unlike any she’d ever met. They sat quietly, companionably. He selected stones to skip across the water, while Kate thought of all the things she wanted to question him about. Specifically, she wanted to ask why he’d left the Hardy family without giving them a proper burial, but she had not the strength to argue and, although she’d wondered initially if he and his companions could be trusted, it now seemed wrong to query a man’s actions when he was trying to help. She recalled his conversation with Mr Hardy. ‘And you, are you really travelling to the coast?’

  ‘Yes, we are.’

  ‘Can I ask why?’

  He flicked at the sand between his boots. ‘To start a new life.’

  That was a reason Kate could understand.

  ‘We have to keep moving.’ Taking a knife from his belt, he trimmed a length of leather from the musket strapping crossing his chest and gestured to her foot. ‘Can I?’

  Kate watched as he deftly wound the leather around the broken shoe, tying it firmly. ‘That should keep it secure for a while.’ Extending a hand he helped Kate to her feet.

  ‘Thank you. It seems that you are always coming to my assistance.’

  Adam didn’t answer. He adjusted the musket on his shoulder and, cupping a hand around his mouth, made a series of birdlike noises. A few moments later Bidjia and Jardi appeared with James and Mr Southerland. All of the men drank from the creek, filling the waterbags they carried.

  ‘You think that man is after me, don’t you?’ Kate hadn’t wanted to ask the obvious, but it was clear from the earlier glances and innuendos that Bronzewing thought as much.

  ‘Come on then,’ George Southerland finished splashing water on his face, ‘let’s keep moving.’

  James cleared his throat as he moved to Kate’s side. Taking her by the arm he led her away.

  Chapter 25

  1838 July – heading towards

  the Stewart farm

  ‘I think a hot bath and something warm to drink is in order, Kate.’ James did his best to cheer her. It had been some hours since they’d rested and, in spite of her best efforts, Kate knew she was tiring.

  ‘Soon you’ll be resting under the protection of the Stewarts.’

  ‘And you?’ Kate asked. Her skirt was damp where she clutched at the material as they stepped over fallen timber. ‘Will you go directly back to Sydney?’

  James kept a watchful eye on her, assisting Kate over the sometimes steep and rocky ground as they continued to weave up and down and around unfamiliar foothills.

  ‘Eventually.’ He took her hand once again as they crossed a dry gully. ‘But when I do, you’ll be coming with me.’

  The feeling of relief was indescribable as she felt the brief touch of the Major’s hand on the small of her back. There would be soldiers, of course. A rider would be sent south and troops would be mustered to quell the bloody skirmishes. Then once peace was restored, Kate would be escorted back to Sydney by the military. A spurt of energy enticed her onwards. Nothing would stop Kate from leaving this place. Since her arrival there’d been little reason to stay.

  ‘You should never have left Sydney. I told you as much then.’

  She wouldn’t admit that he’d been correct. ‘I did what I thought was right at the time.’

  ‘And in the doing made me understand the benefit of resilience. You have shown yourself capable of enduring more than some of the men under my command, Kate. A man needs more than a pretty face in this colony, and you have been graced with beauty and more. I have given the matter some thought,’ he continued, offering his arm for support as Kate stepped over a large log. ‘A well-born girl may not take to life out here. For it is here in the colony that I intend to stay. Granted, there has been little discourse between us, but I sensed a growing friendship while escorting your expedition north and I believe you were quite glad on my arrival at the Hardys’ farm. Am I wrong in my assumption?’

  ‘Yes, no, that is to say, it has been difficult, and a friendly face is always welcome.’ Kate wondered where the conversation was heading, for she was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

  James gave her a smile that suggested he did not quite believe her. ‘It has come as somewhat of a shock to myself as well, Kate, what with my position in society, but the dangers of the past day have made me understand much about my own, shall we say, desires, and I am not immune to the mutual benefits that would stem from our union. People have married on less. And a lifetime is ample enough for the knowing of another, don’t you think?’

  Kate was sure her lips opened, but no words came forth.

  ‘I have witnessed firsthand how this journey of yours started and I hope to see it through until the end.’ James halted, so that his meaning was understood. ‘The very end.’

  ‘James, I really don’t know if –’

  ‘Think on it, Kate.’

  He said no more, but slowing his pace, drew level with George Southerland. The two men began to speak in whispers, as Kate increased each stride. Major James Shaw and Kate Carter … she could not see it. He was right in that she had been incredibly relieved and pleased when he’d arrived at the Hardy farm, and Kate was flattered and liked his attention, but his wife? His declaration was so unexpected, so beyond the daydreaming of a lonely, scared woman, that Kate didn’t know what she should think or how she should reply. Only one thing came to mind. If her mother were alive she would tell her daughter to seize the opportunity with both hands. It was, for a girl of Kate’s background, the very best of offers.

  Some time later, James was at Kate’s side again. The two natives, Bidjia and Jardi, changed positions frequently, sometimes leading, or moving to the left or right, at others slowing so that it appeared they barely moved at all. Behind her, George Southerland kept up with the rhythmic pace of the group, his musket loaded and ready for action. Initially every time Kate glanced over her shoulder, the man who’d delivered her safely to the Hardys’ holding was also looking behind, as if he expected the arrival of an unwanted visitor. As the day drew on, however, and Kate became attuned to the overseer’s footfall, she knew that Mr Southerland concentrated more and more on the business of walking, although he still stopped occasionally to ensure they were not being followed.

  James extended a hand, assisting her over a rocky outcrop and down the other side. Her shoes slipped and slid on the loose gravel, but Kate held her footing, pushing off a tree-trunk and speeding her descent so that level ground was quickly reached. The concern on the Major’s face was obvious.

  ‘We will discuss things further once we reach Sydney, Kate.’

  ‘I am flattered, James, but we barely know each other.’

  ‘But we are friends, yes?’ he urged.

  ‘Of course we are.’

  ‘Well then, isn’t that a good enough place to start?’

  Kate gave an awkward smile. What was wrong with her? Any other woman in her position would be accepting his offer of marriage with open arms.

  A single raised hand from the man known as Bronzewing brought their party to a sudden standstill. They were entering a heavily wooded area. Ridged
and knotted, the great woody plants extended upwards to where their branches met, thickly intertwining to form a dense canopy.

  On command they silently dropped to their knees. Kate was sure her heart grew as noisy as a beating drum.

  James released the safety on his musket and, turning to the right, wedged the stock against his shoulder and looked down the length of the barrel to scan the dim spaces between the trees.

  Kate’s hand went to the waist of the dress she wore, to the constrictive bodice with its boning. Trembling fingers reached for the folds of the skirt, but the flintlock was not there. The pistol was where she’d left it, on the table, in the burnt-out kitchen hut.

  Ahead in the timber Bronzewing kept perfectly still, a single shaft of sunlight accentuating the dense black of his hair. Kate observed the man, poised like a cat, ready to spring. Outwardly he appeared to be quite the opposite of the Major. James’s steadfast solidness, the appeal and security of his rank, the allure of uniform, hid an outwardly aloof man difficult to understand and, as of today, more than surprising. But was this stranger, this man who would guide them to safety, any different? Both men shared strength and exerted authority. And their guide could indeed be a stripped-down version of James Shaw. Lithe and lean, quick to anger and even quicker to a fight, based on this morning’s altercation with the Major, he ran easily and nimbly over and through the terrain he was clearly at one with.

  Bronzewing aimed his musket for long seconds. The seconds became minutes. Kate was beginning to feel sick with fright. The stillness emphasised the slightest of noises: a fluttering bird, the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves high above them. She sat carefully on the ground as a leaf spiralled to the earth, coming to rest near her hand. The movement diverted her line of sight. Opposite to where she crouched, the bark of a tree had been scarred. Only yards away another trunk was similarly disfigured. Feet away a large bush spider was scuttling towards her. Kate searched for something to throw at the creature. She had to move. She had to get away from it.