Mud and Gold (52 page)

‘There’s nothing to think about, I’ve done
the thinking for you. I’m telling you, boy, forget about it.’
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you listening to me?’

‘I think… I think buying those cows is the
right thing to do,’ Frank said. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot, and
it seems right to me.’

‘What the hell did you ask my advice for,
then? Wasting my time getting me to come around here, then you tell
me you’ve already made up your mind?’

‘I didn’t—’ Frank began.

‘Why don’t you just call me an old fool to
my face?’

‘I don’t—’

‘Right, I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll get
out of your way now.’ Arthur turned on his heel and made for the
horse paddock, where he had left his horse grazing.

‘Pa, don’t go off in a huff,’ Frank called
after him. ‘I only meant—’

Arthur turned to face him. ‘You mark my
words, Frank, you’ll regret it if you go getting into debt over
this stupid idea of yours. And you’ll have no one to blame but
yourself.’ He strode away at a brisk pace.

‘He didn’t kiss me bye-bye,’ Maudie said.
‘Grandpa’s in a bad mood, Papa.’

‘He sure is, Maudie. Don’t worry, he’s not
in a bad mood with you.’

Maudie was unusually silent when Frank led
the two children into the kitchen where Lizzie was busy peeling
potatoes. Her gaze flicked from one parent to the other as Frank
and Lizzie spoke.

‘How did he take it?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Not too well. He thinks I’m being
stupid.’

‘No wonder—I think you’re pretty stupid
about those cows myself, half the time.’

‘Don’t be cheeky, Mama,’ Maudie piped
up.

‘Cheeky yourself!’ Lizzie said indignantly.
‘Don’t you go butting in, Miss.’

Maudie looked up at Frank with a serious
expression. ‘Are you going to give Mama a belt, Papa?’

‘No, Maudie. Keep quiet, love.’

‘What did you say, Maudie?’ Lizzie looked
incredulous.

‘Grandpa said Papa should give you a belt on
the backside,’ Maudie recited self-righteously.

‘Did he, Frank?’

‘He only said it because he was fed up with
me. Stop looking so keen, Maudie, I’m not going to.’

‘Oh.’ Maudie looked disappointed.

‘But I’ll give
you
one if you don’t
behave yourself.’ Lizzie inspected Maudie more closely. ‘How did
you get your face so mucky—Joey, yours is even worse.’

‘Grandpa gave us lollies,’ Maudie said,
beaming at the memory.

‘Trust him! Go and wash your face—take Joey,
you can wash his, too. Go on,’ she said, giving Maudie a push when
the little girl showed no sign of moving.

‘What were you and Pa doing, talking about
me like that?’ Lizzie said. ‘In front of the little ones, too! That
Maudie picks up everything you say.’

‘It’s just how your pa talks, take no
notice. He’s got ideas about how wives should be… well, kept in
line.’

‘Humph! Don’t
you
go taking any
notice of him either.’

‘No,’ Frank agreed absently. ‘He said people
say I’m stupid. I suppose they’re all laughing at me.’

‘Well, they’ve no business saying it. It’s
not true, anyway. If anyone ever says it to me I give them a piece
of my mind.’

Frank sat down at the table beside her. ‘Do
you really think I’m stupid, Lizzie?’

‘Of course not! Don’t be stup—I mean, don’t
talk rot.’

‘You said you did a couple of minutes ago. I
don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t buy those cows after all. I’d only
make a mess of it, get us in trouble.’

Lizzie put down a half-peeled potato and
looked seriously at him. ‘You should listen properly, Frank. Like I
said, half the time I do think it’s mad. Then—’ her head swivelled
to the passage door, and barely skipping a beat she spoke in a
louder voice. ‘That’s not clean! Wash your face properly, and
Joey’s too.’

‘But Mama, I want to—’ Maudie said from the
doorway.

Lizzie lifted a finger in warning. ‘You
heard me, Edith Maud.’ Maudie disappeared as quickly as she had
come. ‘Then I listen to you talking,’ Lizzie said, turning back to
Frank, ‘and I believe it all—I think it’s the best idea anyone’s
ever thought of.’ She wiped a damp hand on her apron and placed it
over Frank’s. ‘Do what you think’s right, Frank. Whatever you
decide, I’ll be behind you.’

‘Lizzie,’ Frank said, clutching her hand,
‘you make me feel like I could do anything in the world.’

*

The day Frank’s cows arrived, half the male
population of the town seemed to find some excuse to be hanging
around near Ruatane wharf when the
Douglas
came in. Frank
was pacing up and down the wharf a full hour before the little boat
appeared, rounding the bend in the coast just before it crossed the
bar into the river mouth. Frank let out his breath in a sigh of
relief as he saw the boat gain the safety of the calmer water.

‘Not long to wait now, eh?’ The voice at his
shoulder startled Frank. He turned to see Bill standing close
behind him.

‘I’ll be glad when I’ve got them safe at
home,’ Frank said, glancing back at the approaching boat.

‘I’ll bet. Me and Alf have come to give you
a hand driving them.’

‘Hey, thanks, Bill,’ Frank said. ‘I was a
bit worried about doing it by myself. Won’t your pa go crook,
though? He’s been funny with me ever since I said I was buying
them.’

‘It was Pa’s idea,’ Bill said with a grin.
‘He said if you were going to ruin your family buying fancy cows
we’d better at least see that you didn’t lose them on the way
home—he reckoned the Feenans might pinch them off you when you went
past their place! Anyway, Pa won’t let on, but he wants to know all
about these cows—he’ll be pumping us for all the news later.’

The boat was still several yards from the
wharf when they heard a loud bellowing, and as soon as it was tied
up the noise was almost drowned out by a human voice.

‘Where’s Frank Kelly?’ the captain roared.
‘Come and get this mad bull of yours off my boat before I chuck him
over the side.’

Frank was on the boat before the captain had
finished speaking. He rushed anxiously to the open area near the
stern where the animals had been tethered. The three cows stood
quietly, and raised their heads to gaze at Frank with what looked
like pleading in their soft brown eyes. But the bull was tossing
his head and bellowing furiously, tugging at the rope that tethered
him as he tried to hurl himself towards the dry land now so
tantalisingly close.

Frank studied the animals, pride swelling in
his chest. They were beautiful. The cows had soft coats of a rich,
warm brown, and their eyes were huge dark pools in sweet faces.
They were smaller than his Shorthorns, and finer-boned, but their
proportions were perfect, though Frank would have preferred to see
more flesh on them. And in Frank’s eyes the bull was magnificent.
Like the cows, he was smaller than a Shorthorn, but he looked
sturdy and heavily-muscled, and his coat was thick and healthy.

‘How are we going to get him off?’ Alf
asked, eyeing the angry animal nervously.

‘He’ll be all right,’ Frank said. He walked
up to the bull and patted him on the head, and the bull quietened a
little. ‘Come on, boy,’ Frank said in a soothing voice as he tied a
length of rope through the animal’s nose ring.

‘He knows you,’ the captain said. ‘Crazy
animal. Jerseys, eh? Remind me never to carry Jerseys again.’

The three of them walked beside their
horses, leading the cattle on ropes, till they were safely through
town. All along the main street, Frank saw women peering through
lace curtains and men staring more openly over fences or standing
outside the hotels.

‘These your fancy cows, eh?’ someone called
out. ‘Pretty skinny, aren’t they?’ Frank ignored him.

‘Pa says they won’t last six months,’ said
Alf.

‘Shut up, Alf,’ Bill admonished.

‘He did!’ Alf insisted.

‘He only said it because he was in a bad
mood. Here, that cow’s going to wrap her rope around a pole—keep an
eye on her.’ Thus distracted, Alf said no more on the subject.

Once they had reached the beach, they
mounted and drove the cattle along the sand at a quiet pace. The
animals seemed too relieved at being back on dry land to show any
inclination to stray.

It was a long journey, since they were
restricted to the slow pace of the cattle, but at last they turned
off the beach, went the mile or so up the main track, then drove
the cattle on to Frank’s farm. Lizzie saw them from a distance and
came rushing out to meet them with Beth in her arms, Maudie and
Joey running ahead of her.

‘Aren’t they beautiful!’ Lizzie exclaimed.
‘So thin, though.’

‘A few weeks of good feed, they’ll soon have
plenty of flesh on them,’ Frank assured her. ‘It’s a good job I
sorted out all those thistles, eh? Can’t put fancy cows like these
on scruffy pasture.’

When the cattle had been put into paddocks,
the bull in solitary splendour with one to himself, Bill and Alf
went straight home, refusing Lizzie’s offer of afternoon tea. ‘It’s
nearly milking time,’ Bill said. ‘Anyway, Pa will be standing on
one leg waiting to find out all about this lot, we’d better put him
out of his misery.’

Frank checked the animals over carefully,
assuring himself that the long walk after their voyage had done
them no harm, but the vigour with which they were cropping grass
showed they were settling in happily. Satisfied, he went up to the
garden gate, where Lizzie was standing with the three children.

‘Well, we’ve done it, Lizzie.’

Lizzie’s smile had a hint of anxiousness.
‘You’re still sure it’s a good idea?’

‘Surer than ever.’ He held out his arm for
Lizzie to slip her own through. ‘Let’s take another look at this
fellow.’

They stood by the fence and stared at the
bull, who was ripping up great mouthfuls of grass. ‘He’s a beauty,
eh?’ Frank said. ‘I’ve never had a bull before. No more borrowing
your pa’s bull for my girls.’

‘What do you want a bull for, Papa?’ Maudie
asked.

‘Don’t ask so many questions,’ Lizzie said
briskly. ‘Take the little ones up to the house, Maudie, and give
them a bikkie—you can have two if you like.’

Maudie stood there for a moment, apparently
considering pressing the point. The alternative won, and she led
Joey and Beth away.

‘He looks healthy,’ Lizzie said, studying
the bull. ‘He’s not very big, though, is he? He’s smaller than Pa’s
bull. Do you think he’ll be… well, up to the job?’

Frank slipped an arm around her waist and
gave her a squeeze. ‘I’m not very tall, either. You’ve never
complained,’ he said with a grin.

‘You
haven’t got twenty-odd wives,’
Lizzie retorted.

Frank patted her bottom. ‘A good thing, too.
One’s enough. Don’t you worry, he’ll be up to it.’ He gazed proudly
at the bull. ‘This herd is going to be really good, Lizzie. This is
just the beginning.’

February 1891

The last week of haymaking was spent on
Frank’s farm, and all the men involved took full advantage of the
opportunity to study ‘Frank Kelly’s funny-looking cows’, as they
were generally called. Frank put up with the jokes and comments
cheerfully enough; he was quietly proud of his Jerseys with their
rich, creamy milk.

The fine weather held throughout the week,
and the work went smoothly in spite of the time lost discussing the
Jerseys. Charlie took Malcolm out to the haymaking most days.
Malcolm usually so tired himself out running around with the other
boys and swimming in the creek that he had no energy left to be
troublesome when he did come home.

On the last day of the season, Lizzie
invited everyone in the valley to her house for a supper to
celebrate the end of the annual task. Charlie returned home to do
his afternoon milking, and when he had finished the four of them
walked down to Frank’s farm in the golden light of late afternoon.
While the men built the last of the haystacks, Amy helped Lizzie
and the other women carry mountains of food out to the
verandah.

To David’s delight, Charlie had for once
decided his younger son could join him and Malcolm with the men.
From the verandah Amy saw Malcolm and David running about with the
other children, carrying armfuls of hay missed by the workers over
to the stacks, then climbing all over the haystacks chasing one
another until one of the men would see them and yell threats.

The men worked harder than ever, seeing the
end in sight, and well before dusk the last stack was finished and
everyone had gathered on the shady verandah to attack the food.
There was a huge ham surrounded by mounds of sandwiches, pies, and
savouries of all kinds, followed by several of Lizzie’s most
magnificent sponge cakes as well as cakes brought by the other
women; lemonade for the women and children, and generous amounts of
beer for the men. The evening had a holiday feel about it. Even
though most of the men would have to get up at first light to milk,
the hay was safely in for another year and the winter feed was
assured.

Charlie made the most of the free beer. He
installed himself in a corner near the barrel and drank glass after
glass, showing no inclination to join in any of the chatting
groups. Amy was aware of the occasional glances he cast at her, but
as long as she kept within sight he seemed willing to let her move
about freely.

People plumped down in seats as they found
them, but with the wariness she had learned over the years Amy was
careful where she sat. Since Rachel Aitken was confined to the
house by her latest pregnancy there was an empty place beside Matt,
but Amy avoided taking it, knowing how Charlie would react to the
sight of her sitting close to Matt Aitken.

She looked around the verandah for somewhere
safe, and saw her cousin Bill waving her over. Amy smiled at him
and picked her way through the press of people to his side.