‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Kate gathered the skirt and sewing basket in her hands as George crossed the room and made to leave.
‘I have seen you outside looking to the land beyond.’
Kate stiffened. ‘As we all do.’
He merely nodded. ‘Every night? When the moon is full? You have been through much, Kate, think hard about your future.’
When he’d left her alone, Kate wandered absently about the room, dragging a hand along the back of the sofa, across the chairs, until she returned to the spot where she found herself every day. Before the window, waiting.
Kate had done as Adam said. She had spent the days and the early evening of the full moon outside, without the plaid wrap, but he had not come. And now another month had come and gone. Another full moon. And still she had waited and once again there had been no sign of him. Kate now knew that Adam wasn’t coming. That she couldn’t expect him to. What man would risk death for a woman? Hers was an infatuation, a daydream. One born of danger and loneliness, one that couldn’t come true. How would they live, how would they survive? If the truth be told Kate hated this wild place she’d come to and as a child she’d been determined to grow old with only cats for company. Now she didn’t want that at all. A month, George had told her. A month and then they would head south with the wool clip. One more full moon.
Chapter 31
One month later
1838 October – at the great waterhole
He was buried sitting up, facing the east, his possessions interred in the grave with him. Adam ran a finger along the healed slices on his forearm and thought of the man who had been as a father to him, of the clan he’d tried to keep alive and of his own friendship with the Lycetts, which had been the undoing of them all. But in truth it had started long before that, with the coming of the settlers, with the desire for land, with ignorance and misunderstanding, with people like him, who, through fault or fate, had tried to straddle two worlds.
And now this.
It was a difficult thing not to belong. Especially now when Winston’s words came back to haunt him:
You will need your signature to sign the deed to the land you will one day own, and your sums will help you count your coin, while the skills we learnt in map reading could lead you to your wife.
Below, the sea crashed against the rocks, the foamy crests spurting into the air. The beach was long and deep as if a bite had been taken from the coastline. There were shellfish along the rocks and the fishing was good, although Jardi was yet to wade into the thrashing waves. Having finally reached their destination, Adam was tired. Another full moon had come and gone and still he thought of the girl with the long dark hair.
‘She is with you again.’ Jardi stood next to him in the faint light of predawn.
‘Yes,’ he admitted.
A little farther away, the young girl they’d seen captured by the river with Mundara lay asleep under the lip of a cave. ‘We could go back?’ Jardi offered.
Adam clasped his shoulder and then they climbed up the cliff face, their fingers grasping the slippery rock as they worked their way to the top. There, they watched and waited for the Morning Star.
‘We still have the horse. You could be there by the next moon,’ Jardi suggested.
Adam looked doubtful as they sat together on a flat rock.
‘She risked much to set you free and did you not tell her that you would return?’
He ran fingers through his hair. ‘Yes I did. But look at us, Jardi. On the run, camping out. I have nothing to offer her. And besides, we barely know each other.’
‘This is a big country, Bronzewing. There are many places to make a life.’
‘But what sort of life would it be?’ Below them the dull crash of waves enticed a flock of seagulls. The birds circled overhead before drawing closer to the ocean’s surface. ‘I don’t even know if she’s interested in me.’ Adam gave a wan smile. ‘When I said I’d return at the next full moon, she didn’t reply,’ he turned to his old friend, ‘she said nothing.’
Jardi tilted his head to one side. ‘We jumped on a horse and rode away. When did the woman have time to speak?’
‘Either way,’ Adam argued, ‘two months have gone by. It’s unlikely she’d still be with the Stewarts.’
‘Excuses. Is that not the word the whites use?’
Adam rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve learnt too well, Jardi.’
The younger man unsheathed his knife and began to whittle a stick. ‘Why didn’t you just take her when we escaped?’
Adam laughed. ‘Because she’s not the type of woman that’s for the taking. Kate Carter would be more trouble than good if it was against her will.’
‘My woman said no, but then by nightfall she was happy.’
‘Well, you were lucky,’ Adam admitted. ‘You two are well-matched.’
Jardi grinned and then grew serious. ‘You are not scared of her saying no.’ He pointed to Adam’s heart. ‘You are scared of that.’
‘Probably. I have been alone for too many years, Jardi.’ Adam walked over to the edge of the cliff. ‘But I still can’t give her a white woman’s life. You know that.’
‘What is a white woman’s life, what is a black woman’s life? This place is like a bird’s egg dropped on the ground.’ Walking to Adam’s side he jabbed him in the chest with a finger. ‘And you who have fought for everybody, why do you not fight for yourself? Go to the whitefella’s farm. See if she is there. Speak. Then you will know. If she does not want you then you can let the woman go, like a handful of earth scattered in the wind. But if she is there …’
Adam gazed out over the ocean.
‘Either way, come back, my white brother, even if it’s to say goodbye.’
Kate stepped out onto the verandah. With the arrival of spring, the nights were kinder. She’d taken to sitting on the porch until bedtime while the rest of the household came together in the kitchen to listen to Mr Stewart reading aloud. Kate’s inclusion in their family gathering was clearly never considered and in the months since her arrival on the property she’d grown used to her own company. Kate leant against one of the timber pillars. The Major had left a fortnight previously without a final goodbye. She did not expect such a courtesy having turned down his offer of marriage, but the difficulty of their parting troubled her. They had been through much together and Kate would have preferred to remain friends, especially knowing the unlikelihood of ever seeing him again, but it was not to be. She waited and pondered on the future, counting down the days until her own leaving. The shearing of the Hardys’ wool was done and tomorrow the bales would be loaded onto the wagons for the transportation to Sydney. Very soon, Kate too would be gone from here.
Having reached its brilliance last night, the full moon illuminated the land in a pure white light. The countryside beckoned with its stillness and, tugging at the wrap about her shoulders, Kate moved from the porch to pick a rose from the bushes edging the verandah.
‘You’re wearing the shawl.’
The flower fell to the ground. He was standing some feet away between trees, his outline barely visible. Kate looked towards the sound of his voice as he stepped from the shadows into the light. It was Adam. She couldn’t believe he was standing before her. It had been nearly three months since she’d last seen him, since he’d promised to return. ‘I … I never thought I would see you again.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Adam replied.
It was a simple response considering the time that had elapsed, his broken promise. Kate hugged her arms. It grew cool. Part of her wanted to turn on this man. To walk indoors and away from the embarrassment of what Adam had made her endure. ‘You said you would come and you didn’t. You made a vow to return …’ Kate would never tell Adam how she’d wept with the passing of that first full moon, never reveal that with the coming of the second that she’d still hoped.
‘You never answered me that day,’ Adam reminded her. ‘I said I would come and you said nothing.’
‘After Jardi and I escaped and made it to the coast, I thought about that. I wasn’t convinced that you wanted …’ His words grew faint. ‘Anyway, it’s no small thing for a woman to run away with a man such as me.’ Adam looked up at the moon hanging low and bright. ‘I don’t know you, Kate Carter, I only understand what I feel. So I stayed away and in the doing the more convinced I became that you would have left this place by now.’
Kate took a step forward. ‘I’m supposed to leave with Mr Southerland when the wool’s ready for market.’
‘I see.’
Although she wanted to remain angry and hurt, Kate understood Adam’s reluctance. It was true that they didn’t know each other, but a bond had been forged between them and seeing him standing before her, Kate was beginning to grow more certain that if there was a choice to be made between a life with or without Adam, she would take her chances with him. Her voice softened. ‘So why have you come, Adam? After all this time?’
‘In the end I could not stay away. And it is a full moon.’ He smiled.
Voices from the building behind carried out into the spring air. Kate glanced back towards the house. ‘Major Shaw has left, but it’s still not safe for you here.’
They looked at each other.
Kate thought of the one kiss they’d shared. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’ A queasy sensation had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach.
‘You don’t belong in the bush,’ Adam said honestly. ‘You should be in Sydney, you know that.’
‘What if I don’t want Sydney? What if I want another life? A different kind of life?’
The man opposite appeared uncertain.
For God’s sake, Kate chastised herself, this wasn’t the time to be timid. She knew what she’d lived through and what Sydney offered and the truth of the matter was that she had nothing to lose. Unclipping the brooch, Kate removed the tartan wrap and dropped it on the ground.
Adam was by her side instantly. Taking her hand they ran through the trees, beyond the garden to where a horse grazed nearby.
‘You’re sure?’
Kate nodded in response.
Adam lifted her onto the animal’s bare back and, springing onto the horse, gave the animal’s flanks a jab with the heel of his boots. Kate wrapped her arms around Adam’s waist, and together they rode into the night.
Reading Group Questions
What is the common bond that brings Kate and Adam together?
Who is your favourite character and why?
Displacement and dispossession are major themes in the novel. Discuss how this relates to Bidjia and his clan.
Raised in two worlds and yet belonging to neither, Adam is untouched by white man’s materialism and attuned to the natural world. Discuss his strengths and weaknesses.
As a female Kate is hampered by her sex and curtailed by the prevailing attitudes of the time. What is the driving force behind the major decisions that she makes? Survival or independence?
Winston Lycett’s single, shocking lie changes Adam’s life forever. Discuss the importance of trust in the narrative.
Compare and contrast the beliefs of the Indigenous Australian Aboriginals with regards to land management techniques and ownership to that of the white settlers of the period.
Kate’s journey into the wild lands of Australia’s frontier country is also a journey of self-discovery. Discuss.
George Southerland, Samuel Hardy and Major Shaw are all adventurers of a sort, but each is driven by different needs. Of these three who is the more complicated character?
Isolation and deprivation in the lands beyond the outer limits made for a difficult life. Do you think Mrs Hardy could have been kinder towards Kate or was her adherence to class hierarchy a way of preserving some semblance of normality?
The Australian landscape, its beauty and harshness, is an integral part of Wild Lands. How well has the author succeeded in capturing both time and place?
Author’s Note
In the history of many civilisations, the subjugation of a native people by others intent on land ownership ultimately leads to bloodshed and dispossession. It was no different in Australia. This, then, is the background to Wild Lands, the story of a woman in an untamed land, one that is rife with grievances between black and white.
Although this is a work of fiction, many of the major incidents in the narrative are based on historical accounts, as are the prevailing attitudes of the period. Although, in my role as storyteller, not all of the confrontations in the novel may have occurred in the locations used.
I have endeavoured to portray both black and white perspectives in the narrative, and to that extent I am most grateful to Mr Ted Stubbins for his careful reading of the manuscript and thoughtful opinion regarding the portrayal of Australia’s first peoples in the novel. I am also indebted to the following: the University of New England and Regional Archives (UNERA), Armidale, whose collection of early manuscripts proved invaluable; The Inverell Pioneer Village; Ashford Local Aboriginal Land Council Cultural Centre, Keeping Place & Art Gallery; Bingara District Historical Society & Museum. Thanks also to the very generous time given to me by volunteers at Old Government House Parramatta and the Parramatta Visitor’s Research Centre. As always, I have made use of the Alexander family archives.
With four generations of farming blood in my veins, land management practices past and present intrigue me. It was fascinating to learn of Australia’s first peoples’ attitude to the land, and the changes to Australia’s landscape that occurred after the arrival of white settlers. I may well be white, but the land sings for me too.
Wild Lands’s narrative covers the time period of the documented Aboriginal massacres at both Waterloo Creek (Slaughterhouse Creek) and Myall Creek. The Myall Creek Massacre near Bingara in northern New South Wales involved the killing of 28 unarmed Indigenous Australians by colonists on 10 June 1838. Seven colonists were found guilty of murder and hanged. Although these massacres are not covered in detail and do not form the main narrative of the story, I mention their inclusion for those Indigenous Australian readers who may find their depiction distressing.
Thank you as always to David and my family and friends who have supported me throughout the writing of this novel. To Penguin Random House, my publisher Beverley Cousins, managing editor Brandon VanOver, publicist Erin Seymour and my agent Tara Wynne – thank you for your professionalism, guidance and friendship. Farewell to Brett Osmond, former head of marketing at Penguin Random House. From a writer’s perspective, having Brett in your corner made you feel you could take on the world. Thank you, Brett.
Lastly, to the many libraries and booksellers here and abroad, my friends and readers, old and new, thank you.
I am indebted to the following texts and recommend them for further reading:
Australian Frontier Wars, 1788–1838 by John Connor
Forgotten War by Henry Reynolds
Bush tucker, Boomerangs & Bandages, compiled by Michelle McKemey and Harry White
Sticks and Stones, compiled by Tony Sonter and Harry White
Massacre at Myall Creek by Laurie Barber
Waterloo Creek: The Australia Day Massacre of 1838. George Gipps and the British Conquest of NSW by Roger Milliss
The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines made Australia by Bill Gammage
Bingara 1827–1937 by J.T. Wearne
Blood on the Wattle: Massacres and Maltreatment of Aboriginal Australians Since 1788 by Bruce Elder
A Million Wild Acres by Eric Rolls
Pioneers of the North West Plains, compiled by Kath Mahaffey
A Short History of Australia by Manning Clark
Australians: Origins to Eureka by Thomas Keneally
A History of Bathurst, Volume 1: The Early Settlement to 1862 by Theo Barker
Parramatta: A Past Revealed by Terry Kass, Carol Liston and John McClymont
Wind & Watermills in Old Parramatta by Olga
Tatrai
The Squatters by Geoffry Dutton
About the Author
A fourth-generation grazier, Nicole Alexander returned to her family’s property in the early 1990s. She is currently the business manager there. Nicole has a Master of Letters in creative writing and her novels, poetry, travel and genealogy articles have been published in Australia, Germany, America and Singapore.
She is the author of five previous novels: The Bark Cutters, A Changing Land, Absolution Creek, Sunset Ridge and The Great Plains.
Also by Nicole Alexander
The Bark Cutters
A Changing Land
Absolution Creek
Sunset Ridge
The Great Plains
Divertissements: Love, War, Society – Selected Poems
THE BARK CUTTERS
Nicole Alexander
Sarah Gordon knows what she wants: the family property, Wangallon. When it comes to working the land she’s a natural but, as a woman, it’s not her birthright. Even when her beloved older brother is killed in a tragic accident, nobody looks to Sarah to inherit.
Instead her grandfather passes management to Anthony Carrington, who was once Wangallon’s jackeroo.
Feeling betrayed, Sarah escapes to Sydney to try to put Wangallon behind her. But her heart is pulled in two directions: Sydney with its cafes and social life, her blossoming career as a photographer, and her accountant boyfriend, Jeremy.
Or the property that has been in her family for over 120 years, with its floods, its droughts, the ghosts of generations past, and Anthony …
Wild Lands Page 39