Wild Lands (34 page)

‘Come, we're walking out of here now,' Adam told them.

‘But it's pitch black,' the Major disagreed. ‘Best we make camp in the timber and let Miss Carter rest.'

‘Stay if you like,' Adam glanced around the open position where they argued, ‘but I'd not risk it, not with a renegade on the loose.'

Mr Southerland rubbed at his beard and looked skyward. ‘A renegade. Do you know that for certain?'

This time Jardi spoke. ‘Yes.'

‘The bastard. It's not the time to be standing out here then. Come on, Major, he's right,' Mr Southerland admitted. ‘Best we keep moving.'

‘We can't leave Mrs Horton, we can't just walk away.' Kate turned to George Southerland and James, imploring them to stop. ‘And what of Sophie?' She gave a sob. ‘What happened to Sophie and Mr and Mrs Hardy?'

James drew her away, leading Kate roughly over the uneven ground. ‘They were inside the house when it caught alight. I saw them through the window. Sophie wouldn't leave her mother's side. George and I tried to get to them …'

Kate bit her knuckles to stem the horror. Behind them the fires crackled and roared. ‘He killed Mrs Horton!'

‘I know, Kate,' James took her arm more firmly, ‘and the young officer travelling with me. There were four of them, Kate, and they knew what they were doing. Come, you must keep up.' He was practically dragging her towards the timber, his arm moving to her waist, so that he half-carried her uphill. Kate willed her feet to keep walking.

Ahead, the two natives and the dark-haired man led them into the night.

1838 June – on the run

Through the tangle of brush, daylight beckoned. Twigs and leaves caught in Kate's hair and clothes as she pushed and pulled at the cocoon of a nest that seemed to have been erected around her. With difficulty she crawled free of the hiding spot, brushing dirt away. The sleeping place where she'd collapsed a few hours ago had been made invisible by the careful placement of plants. Her legs were aching and her head and neck pained from last night's ordeal. Exhausted and thirsty, Kate scanned the area, and realising that she was alone, peered through the woody plants encircling the sheltered spot for any sign of life. To her relief James and Mr Southerland were standing a short distance away. They turned at her approach and then wordlessly resumed their stare. Kate joined the silent companions and followed their line of sight.

Kate didn't recognise the land they'd come to. To the east there were strange hills that crisscrossed each other like bell-shaped skirts and forested areas interspersed with open areas. They were
in a valley inhabited by kangaroos and a flock of birds who flew overhead in an arrow formation. Smoke hung in the air to the south and south-west. In places it appeared to ring the dense bushland. Kate thought of the Hardys, of all they'd hoped to achieve. A dull pain settled within her. ‘What happened to the other men? To Mr Callahan?'

‘They set the men's hut alight.' George Southerland passed her a waterbag and Kate drank gratefully. ‘Maybe the others cleared off before the attack. I don't know.'

Kate was glad for Gibbs and the rest of the men. ‘And Mr Callahan?' She handed the water back.

The overseer shook his head. ‘Unless he managed to crawl out of there.'

‘You mean, he's dead too?' Mr Southerland didn't reply. Kate stood quite still, her mind trying to absorb the deaths of the people she'd lived and worked with for nearly a year. Mr Callahan in particular had been so kind to her. ‘He, he was a friend,' she said quietly. If the old Scotsman had not been so desperate to arm himself and if Mr Hardy were not so intent on instilling order, Mr Callahan might yet be alive. Kate thought of him lying in the hut unable to defend himself. It was too much. All of it was too much.

‘With luck the smoke may have got him first,' the overseer suggested as if reading her mind.

The thought gave her little comfort. Kate watched numbly as the two blacks and the white man who'd saved her the previous night appeared through the timber and jogged towards them. They moved effortlessly as if at one with the land, small ground-birds fluttering from the grasses as they approached. Kate recalled the stranger she'd met by the creek, his gentle touch and the ease she'd felt in his presence. But when he'd talked of his companions to Mr Hardy, he'd never mentioned that they were natives. ‘Can they be trusted?'

‘They saved you, Kate, didn't they?' In daylight, the Hardys' overseer was covered with soot and a nasty burn, red and bubbly, marked one side of his face. ‘And at this point we don't have much choice.'

‘You're injured, Mr Southerland,' Kate noted.

‘It'll heal.' He waved away her concern.

‘He followed Mr Hardy into the house to help save the man's wife and child,' James explained.

‘The bloody building collapsed like a deck of cards.'

Kate saw the overseer in a new light.

‘Nothing,' Adam shared on arrival. ‘And the horses have been run off.'

‘Damn.' Mr Southerland itched his hairline. ‘Well, there's still the sheep and the cattle, if they haven't been rushed.'

‘You can't seriously be thinking of going back?'

‘James, I ain't been paid and I'm not likely to be if I don't return and see what's what. If I can get to Stewart's farm and borrow a horse and some men, I can muster what's left of the Hardys' sheep and then walk them to his farm, shear them and get the wool to market. There's also Kate to be considered. She'd be safe there.'

‘But weren't they one of the places attacked?' James queried.

‘So we were told, but the Stewarts have a big spread and if it's the same mob of blacks that attacked us last night, then on my reckoning there's only three of them. Stewart's got enough men to hold that number at bay.' He turned to Adam. ‘It's due south from here, maybe thirty miles. I'd appreciate having you with us as a guide. I'm figuring you know this part of the country, while I don't.' He contemplated their surroundings. ‘Nothing's recognisable to me, and if you're right about a renegade being involved, we'll do better if you lot are with us.'

Kate stared at the white man as he considered Mr Southerland's request. They didn't even know his real name although the old
black man addressed him as Bronzewing. Kate wondered if she should mention that he'd been to the Hardys' farm; that Mr Hardy had spoken with him and that the unknown man had never mentioned that he was travelling with natives. It struck her as odd that their fate rested with this man who was named after a pigeon. He didn't answer Mr Southerland immediately, turning instead to consult with the two blacks as if they were equal.

The older of the blacks, Bidjia, was unimpressed. ‘We should leave them, walk away from their troubles, they are not ours.'

‘We'd be indebted,' James announced. ‘I gather you're trackers or stockmen. Who do you work for?'

‘No-one,' Adam answered a little too quickly. He should have known the questioning would begin eventually.

‘Where have you come from then?' the soldier persevered.

‘Nowhere in particular.' Adam dismissed the querying and lowering his voice turned once again to discuss their options with Bidjia and Jardi. He'd made their new friends wary, especially the officer, however they hadn't journeyed this far to be caught up with a redcoat, not after everything that had occurred.

Bidjia wanted to go on and leave these people to make their own way south, but Jardi agreed that it was wrong to leave the white woman, especially if safety was close by.

‘But I don't like the redcoat,' Jardi spoke quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

‘I'd not lend him a knife to cut up a plug of tobacco,' Adam replied, ‘but I agree the woman should be taken to safety. Mundara seeks revenge for some wrongdoing and she's his target.'

‘You like this woman?' Jardi asked.

‘She's a darn sight prettier than you.'

‘He came to the farm,' Kate spoke quickly to Major Shaw and Mr Southerland. She was unnerved by these strange men whispering among themselves. ‘The morning the sheep were washed he spoke to Mr Hardy, warning us about the natives. He said he'd
spoken with the Superintendent at Lago Station and that his party was on their way to the coast.'

‘Is that so?' Mr Southerland tugged thoughtfully at a wispy bit of beard that appeared to have been singed.

‘What's your name?' The Major studied the three men, then, as if seized by a revelation, he walked forward and grabbed Adam by the wrist. ‘A shell bracelet, a white man travelling with blacks, one of them named Bidjia? I'll ask you again, where have you come from? What is your name?'

‘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.'