The mountain that went to the sea (13 page)

Jason had come through the door. The dog sat down beside him facing the group, now in and out of cars, or under the shade trees; and watched them. His ears were pricked and he leaned forward, his nose lifted as if pointing.

Jeckie nearly laughed, but dared not. He looked for all the world as if — one sign from Jason and he'd start rounding up the Ashendens, including Jeckie.

The dog turned his head. Jason moved his hand, flat-palmed in a circular movement. He did not say a word but the dog understood. He came up on four white feet, still, pointing, then moved forward subtly, silently, inch by inch.

Jeckie raised her hand as if to wave to Jason. Then she glanced at Andrew and let her hand drop. Instead, she

watched the dog.

'Andrew,' she said diffidently. 'Andrew, I really do think the enemy has a sense of humour. That's rather nice, isn't it? He's having Ranger round us up.'

Andrew turned his head sharply and took in the dog's movements. Ranger had cast wide and was coming stealthily up behind Evan Clinton. He knew Jason was standing on the store's veranda but he did not look at him.

'I would give five hundred dollars for the dog,' he said between half-closed lips. 'But not a cent for his master, I'm afraid. Jeckie, if you are ready to come now, would you please get in my car? Ill have a word with Barton.'

As he moved out into the harsh sunlight, he nodded his head — rather indifferently Jeckie thought — to Evan Clinton. He did not speak to him, but went straight across to Barton.

Ranger cast again, this time a wider circle that would take in Barton and the Land-Rover as well as the moving Andrew.

'Hallo, Mr Clinton,' Jeckie called gaily, hoping to make up for Andrew's reserve. 'Your car drove beautifully. I didn't even put a dent in it.'

'Didn't think you would, miss. Knew all about you before you got here. The transceiver and the open session, you know. Seems you can drive a car as well as ride a good breed of horse. You'll do all right up here at Mallibee.'

'Thank you kindly.' Jeckie's smile widened. 'I'm not altogether a new chum, am I?'

'You wait till you get on one of Mallibee's stock horses, miss. 'That'll be the real test, I'm telling you. Don't lead by the rein whatever you do. Leave it to the horse.'

. 'Thank you for the advice. I won't forget it.'

"Day, Jason,' the old mart called to Jason, still standing on the veranda watching the machinations of his dog trying to round up the two Ashenden men, Land-Rover and all.

'Good day to you, Evan,' Jason said. 'What have you and Barton been conniving at? You weren't having a picnic by any chance out along the range?'

'Not on your life,' the old man protested, spreading his hands wide as if in innocence. 'What's wrong with

being out along the range? The train went through. Man, is that a sight to behold! Just on a mile long. They're saying you get a dollar for every truck of ore that goes through there, Jason. Is that true?'

Jason's grin widened. 'Last time I heard that yarn it was only fifty cents a truck. Seems I get richer every time somebody talks about me.'

`One train load at fifty cents a truck 'ud do me,' Evan Clinton said, getting into his utility. 'Thanks a lot, Miss Jeckie, for taking care of this ol' bus of mine. Well, I'll be getting along. I'll be seeing you some time while you're staying up here, Miss Jeckie. Get Andrew or Barton to take you to the cut-out along 'uv our boundary. That'll be when the sheep muster's good and finished. But don't forget what I said about a stock horse as different from that farm stuff you handle down there in the south.'

'I won't forget, Mr Clinton. Thank you for inviting me to the cut-out. I'll ask Andrew. Or maybe Barton.'

`That's the girl. Well, so long, Jason ! You've got my vote okay next time there's a Shire election.'

'Thanks for that, Evan,' Jason said.

Down the track the kelpie had come to a stop and was looking over the distance at his master. Andrew was leaning in the Land-Rover talking to Barton. Clearly Ranger was waiting for the next hand signal to tell him what he did about rounding up a man nailed to a four-wheeled vehicle.

Jason obliged. He brought his hand, still open-palmed, inwards and down. The dog leapt forward, his white paws flashed through the air as his body streaked towards the veranda and his master.

'I don't think that was fair,' Jeckie said reproachfully. `You gave him an order to do the impossible. I always thought you could ruin a good sheep dog doing that.'

'In principle you are right,' Jason said with a laugh. 'But with Ranger, you're wrong. He did that cast and trip for exercise. He knows that. He's a very intelligent dog.'

Jeckie looked at the dog now sitting near his master, his ears pricked and his nose still wanting to point some quarry somewhere else.

Jeckie saw the affection in Jason's face as he, too, watched the dog. Then she looked down the track to where the two Ashendens had finished saying to one

another whatever it was they felt impelled to say. She glanced yet again at Jason and her heart warmed to him as she read his easy kindliness towards all people, even the Ashendens. He was not the sort of man, she thought, wilfully to hurt people. Specially relations. Why had he done what he had done about his share of the property? There had to be a good reason. He was that kind of man.

She wondered why he was not yet married. He at least didn't have to worry any more about shares in Mallibee or having to marry the right girl for Mallibee's sake!

Oh! The hidden mysteries of Mallibee!

She watched Andrew straighten up as he pulled his head

out of the Land-Rover's window. Barton turned to his wheel.

Three of them, Jeckie thought. A confrontation indeed! A moment in time!

Barton — frank and teasing.

Jason — kind and friendly.

Andrew — aloof and reticent.

Was Andrew keeping himself secluded and aside— as it were—for someone like Sheila? Sheila who had everything! Money, charm, social position. and that desirable share in Mallibee
sometime
in the future!

Barton started up the Land-Rover. It moved forward, throwing out its usual cloud-tail of red dust. As it passed Jeckie on the track, Barton lifted a hand. She could barely see his face for the dust, but she was sure he wore his wickedest grin. She sensed an air-message that said . . . `Okay, this is where Andrew takes over. But tomorrow, and the day after and all next week, we'll have some more talk and maybe some more fun — just you and me.'

Jason turned on his heel as if to go back into the store. `Jason, please,' Jeckie called. would like to say goodbye to Mrs Stringer. And the girl. What is her name?'

`Albie.'

`Albie? A sort-of different name, isn't it? She and her mother were very kind to me. They let me doze in the rest room. They looked after me.'

`They won't expect it, but they'll be really pleased if

you thank them, Jeckie. Whatever their public utterances, they're secretly very impressed by anyone from Mallibee. it can be a boring life out here on the tableland. A new arrival gives them something to talk about.'

Jason held open the screen door as she went inside.

Mrs Stringer was dusting the higher shelves this time. Albie was still following in her wake, rubbing with a cloth. They were 'perpetual dusters', Jeckie thought.

Jason gave Jeckie a kindly wink that said Mrs Stringer and Albie had been watching through the window all that went on between, or not between, the members of the Ashenden family. It was one more instalment in Mallibee's saga of who was on talking terms with whom.

`Thank you so much for your kindness,' Jeckie said, swinging her hair back over her shoulders. Actually, she felt suddenly a little shy herself. The two on the other side of the counter turned their heads and looked at her in their own kind of wary silence. 'I had a lovely doze in the rest room. I wonder if I've left anything behind. Perhaps I'd better look ...'

'There's nothing there, miss,' Albie said, still unsmiling. `I've dusted and tidied in there — '

'And you have your shoes on,' Jason added. The twinkle in his eye caught at Jeckie's heart.

'Oh, Jason!' she began impulsively. Then broke off. 'I .

I think I'd better be going. Andrew will be waiting for me.

'And Andrew must not be kept waiting,' Jason said, very solemn. 'Under no circumstances whatever.'

'That's the way it always is . . . out there at Mallibee,' Mrs Stringer said from behind the counter, back turned, and still busy with the duster. 'Leastwise, that's what I've always been told.'

`That's it,' said Albie, following the course of the feather duster with a rub of the cloth. 'Andrew's the boss out there, an' everyone — meaning Miss Isobel too— eats out of his hand.'

Jeckie caught Jason's eye. He was watching for her reaction, amused. She smiled a little uneasily, looked away quickly, and went towards the door.

'Goodbye, Jason,' she said over her shoulder.

`
Goodbye
, Jeckie. You'll come again, won't you?'

'Oh yes. I'll come again ... If you'll ask me ...'

'There's an open invitation on the record already, my dear.'

Outside, Ranger, sitting watchful on the veranda, thumped his tail twice on the dry boards.

He had called her 'my dear'. Did it mean anything?

'Goodbye to you, nice dog,' Jeckie said. She dropped a pat, light as a feather, on his head. The tail thumped with pleasure. She bent down impulsively and dropped a kiss right between his ears — then fled down the step and across the track.

Andrew opened the passenger door.

'Now we will go home. To Mallibee,' he said. It's high time.'

Jeckie had a feeling he was — with those words — conveying a message. But what message?

It was a long drive back to the homestead. The track crossed the plain — a line straight to the horizon as if ruler-drawn. The car swept on along it, mile upon mile. It was a red-brown land covered only with mats of yellowing spinifex, and broken here and there by a single twisted snake tree or ghost gum. Ant hills, feet high, were scattered over it like irregular brown tents on a desert chess board. They were anything from two feet to six feet high.
However
many ants did they house? How many thousands of ants did it take to build even one?

Behind them the sun slid slowly down in the west. Ahead was the ribbon of track, and a purpling haze along the eastern horizon. There was something eerie about it all.

How did those occasional ghost gums survive? What kept the scattered mulga alive? Why did the ants have to build such high castles?

Jeckie wondered what would happen if the car stopped

and she and Andrew were left here
forever
like those occasional outcrops of dark iron-red broken rock. Maybe they would become statues of Time and Stillness like everything else in the land?

Andrew had not spoken for a long time. Once Jeckie glanced at him surreptitiously — a little embarrassed herself at the way-out thoughts she was having. Why was Andrew so silent? The land seemed to put a spell on everyone and everything.

Jeckie did know why she herself could find nothing to say. She was not exactly intimidated by Andrew; a little afraid of his possible anger, and more so of his indifference perhaps. Actually, she was much too much drawn to him. He did absolutely nothing himself even to engage her attention.

Besides, she didn't want to be drawn to him.

But —

Some invisible electric current seemed to pass through the narrow space between them. Alas, it was only a one-way flow. It did not affect him.

She stole another sideways glance at him — and something knocked at her heart. It could have been something precious asking to be let in.

Yet she knew he would never make the one gesture necessary to unlock that door. Shyness? Dignity? Or just plain indifference? How would she ever know? Sheila, of course, would have the right technique. Sheila — being sophisticated — knew all the answers and had the know-how!

He had a straight forehead, a straight nose and a straight-line chin: very firm. No — even Sheila would find it hard to crack that reserve unless he permitted it.

His eyes, under the brim of his stetson hat, were narrowed — the way all the nor'westers narrowed their eyes when they looked into distances.

His hands held the steering wheel. Long, brown, strong hands. Their very strength had a curious 'electric' effect on her.

Why worry, anyway? That poor lacerated heart of hers had taken one beating already. Lacerated, bruised — and on the blink too! That's what it was!

They came to a sharp U turn: the track wound back on

itself to round an outcrop of dark red ironstone. It would come out again at a higher level presently.

When the car took the turn, for a full fifty yards now they were facing about, and looking into the western sky, their backs to Mallibee. The sky before them was a wild fury of red as if something tremendous over there below the horizon had burst into flame. This was the blazoning riot-colour of sunset.