Wild Lands (36 page)

Adam relaxed as he leant the musket on the shrubby barrier between their attackers.

‘Why have they left?' Kate whispered.

Turning so that he lay side-on to Kate and, resting on his arm, Adam drew her attention to the trees underneath which Kate had slept. In the moonlight one of the upper branches seemed to hold something. There was a lone, narrow silhouette that stretched the length of the timber some fifteen feet from the ground.

‘Burial ground,' he told her.

Kate's eyes grew round. ‘Are we safe?'

Adam turned to her. ‘It seems so,' his eyes studied her, ‘at least for tonight.'

Kate considered his words. ‘Why did you refuse to return and bury the Hardys? They were good people.'

‘It may have placed you and the others in danger. It was best that we leave that place and head for safety,' he replied simply. ‘This land is at war with itself, miss. There is no point courting trouble.'

Kate plied the soft dirt with hesitant fingers. ‘I thought ill of you.'

‘It's to be expected.'

‘Expected?' Kate repeated indignantly.

‘Keep your voice down.' He peered over the top of the branches concealing them and, satisfied they were alone, continued, ‘I don't expect you to understand, miss. In my experience all are quick to judge and slow to see reason. The Major said you were a lady's companion. Why would you travel to such a remote place? Did no-one advise you of the dangers?'

‘Dangers, yes.' But the rest of his queries Kate couldn't answer, not anymore. Her reasons for leaving the environs of Sydney seemed ridiculous now. ‘Why are you with those natives?'

‘When my mother died Bidjia took me in, adopted me if you like, and raised me as part of his clan.'

‘And your English? Did a missionary teach you?'

‘There was a settler family nearby, the Lycetts. They had a boy my age. They were good to me.'

‘What about your father? Are none of your family alive?'

‘No,' Adam said adamantly, ‘none.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Don't be.' He fingered the shell bracelet around his wrist. ‘Bidjia's people believe that the spirits of the dead travel to the sky, remaining with the creator beings for all eternity. The old become young and the sick are healed. It's a nice thought.'

They both turned their faces heavenwards. There were scant stars with a bright moon illuminating the sky but those that could be seen appeared fragile and so very far away.

‘I think of my mother when the morning star rises,' Adam said, his voice soft. ‘The Yolngu people say that the star draws a rope behind her on rising that's attached to the earth and that through her people are able to communicate with their dead loved ones.'

‘So we remember them always.' Kate thought of her parents.

‘At least it will be clear going over the next few days,' Adam said, changing the subject.

‘How do you know?'

‘Look at the moon, there's no ring circling it, so we can be assured
of dry weather, and he sits a little to one side, so there'll be a wind coming – a westerly, I'd imagine, the way it's angled. Generally the weather's always calm about a full moon in the colder months but all you have to do is look to the sky to check.'

Kate thought of the leech in the Reverend's jar. While he'd been watching a creature through glass, this man had been observing the heavens. ‘What else is up there?'

‘The emu in the sky – that's the Milky Way. You can see the long, stretched-out shape of the bird but it changes through the seasons. Come August it will look like an emu egg, ready to hatch. That's the month when I was initiated into the tribe.'

‘What did they do?' Kate had never had such a conversation, especially with a white man brought up by Aboriginals, who chose to roam the wilds. She wondered where he truly felt at home – in her world or that of the natives.

Adam chuckled. ‘I can't tell you that, miss. It's man's business, as women have their business.'

‘Why do men always think they know best where women are concerned?' Kate didn't mean to sound huffy, but it was always the same.

‘I'd imagine that most of us don't, miss, but perhaps it's expected that we should.'

Kate didn't anticipate such an answer. ‘Mr Southerland and the Major think you're a convict or runaway. Is that true?'

‘What do you think?' The contours of his jaw hardened.

‘I think,' Kate answered carefully, ‘that it takes a lot for a person to leave civilisation and want to live out here.' She moistened her lips. ‘What's your real name?'

‘Does it matter?'

It was obvious that he didn't feel comfortable telling her. More than anything Kate knew what it meant to place one's faith in someone and have that trust destroyed. ‘You don't have to tell me, I understand.'

‘Adam,' he finally responded. ‘Now, go and rest, miss. No, keep it,' he told her when Kate offered the flintlock pistol back. ‘We leave before first light. And take this.' Reaching into his pocket he retrieved a handful of native seeds. ‘Chew slowly. You'll be less tired in the morning.'

‘I'm s-sorry about your hand.'

He examined the bite mark. ‘No, you're not,' he replied.

Kate knew he watched her as she returned to the cluster of trees and settled back down in the dirt. The bark was rough against her shoulders but Kate stayed upright, resting the pistol in her lap and cradling the cold metal. The moon glowed brightly, filling the sky. Two small furry animals scampered across the ground as if chasing their moon-shadows and disappeared into a hollow log. Adam had not asked if she knew how to fire the pistol, if she could point and shoot, he'd simply assumed that she could.

‘Probably not the time to be wandering about, Kate.' Mr Southerland stepped out from between the trees.

She wondered how long the overseer had been standing there. He moved to sit not far away, leaning his musket against a tree.

‘I wasn't wandering.'

Kate shifted a little closer to the tree, rubbing her arms to entice warmth. The desire to remain awake, to observe the man below who kept guard for all of them, was strong, but Kate knew that tiredness would soon overtake her and sleep was needed if she was going to keep pace with the men in the morning. She ate the offered seeds slowly, quietly, licking her palm until they were gone, grateful for the simple act of sharing and the kindness behind the deed.

Her thoughts drifted. Above them, high in the branches, some ten feet or more, another watched over them. A native person from this very land but of an unidentified time. In the moonlight the form grew definition. Long and lean, the deceased was laid out along the length of a branch, as if cradled in midair. The tangled
foliage dangling down and around rustled in the light breeze, wrapping the body in a delicate shroud as the glow from the moon descended through the highest branches. Arching her neck, Kate stared at the form that hung above her. How could she be unnerved by the presence of this person? Whomever it was who had been laid to rest with the caress of a soft wind and a coverlet of stars had protected them this night.

1838 July – en route to
the Stewart farm

Adam and Jardi paused between two trees. A long cobweb strung between branches was broken.

‘They are ahead of us,' Bidjia stated, allowing his palm to hover above the footprints, ‘no more than half a day. The spider has not rebuilt.'

‘They know where we're going,' Adam decided. The hill that lay before them was steep. It would be hard going for all.

‘We should have walked away from this,' Bidjia told them. ‘No good can come of our being here.'

Behind them the others followed. The red coat of the officer was obvious in the timber.

‘But we're close, yes?' Jardi asked.

‘Close enough.' There was the hill to climb and then, they hoped, the valley that led to the Stewart farm would come into view. ‘To leave now would be wrong,' Adam told them. ‘Mundara would have the advantage. Southerland would put up a fair fight, as would the Major, I've no doubt of that, but I can't walk away.'

Bidjia muttered something in his native tongue, and then, ‘You have too much white in you, Bronzewing.'

‘They would not save us,' Jardi argued, ‘you know this.'

‘But I'm not them and we have given our word to get them safely to the Stewart property,' Adam countered. The rest of their party drew closer. The group had slowed over the last few hours. ‘They need food and rest before we continue on.'

Overhead the sun grew warm. ‘Camp here, then,' Bidjia ordered. Promptly moving a few feet from their path, he sat cross-legged at the base of a tree. ‘The sun-woman nears the midpoint.'

‘It is the girl,' Jardi mocked. ‘If not for her we would be free of this place.'

Adam didn't want to venture into a discussion about Kate Carter. He liked her, that much was true, and although he thought of her often, observing her graceful movements, he also chided himself for his stupidity. How could there be a future in such thoughts. When the others arrived he gave orders to rest while he and Jardi gathered food.

‘I can help,' Kate offered, ‘I know some of the native plants.'

The whites of Jardi's eyes grew large. Shrugging, he headed slightly downhill.

‘You should sit and rest,' James argued.

‘I will be fine. I'm not some helpless female, James.' Kate followed Adam and Jardi, her shoes slipping on the thick grasses as they made their way to where rich herbage grew. Instantly recognising some of the plants that Sally had taught her about, Kate searched the area until she found a stick. Breaking it off so that it was slightly pointed, she squatted and began to dig.

‘Maybe she's not so bad,' Jardi conceded, watching as the woman tucked her skirts between her knees and concentrated on the task of digging up food. ‘Maybe she be a good woman for you, Bronzewing.'

‘
Maybe
you should look for food instead of watching her,' Adam replied.

Jardi smiled. ‘
Maybe
I leave so you can talk whitefella things.'

‘
Maybe
that would be a good idea,' Adam admitted. He grinned in return at the younger man and walked to where Kate was flicking up dirt as she dug for the tuberous roots.

‘Who taught you this?'

Kate paused. Sweeping away the earth that had collected on her skirt, she twisted her hair so that it fell over one shoulder. ‘One of the natives at the Hardys' farm. I would have learnt more if I'd had the time.'

There was a small pile of plants by her side. Adam poked through the selection. ‘They're better boiled but we can't risk a fire so it will have to do.'

‘We need more than this.' There had been little opportunity to speak with Adam over the past day. Kate found herself trying to prolong the conversation. ‘Maybe if we searched over there.' She pointed to an area some feet away.

‘Jardi will find more,' Adam replied. ‘You go and rest.' He nodded towards the mount before them. ‘We must climb it this afternoon.'

‘Oh.' The sight of the steep hill and Adam's disinterest deflated her. Kate got tiredly to her feet.

Helping to gather the plants she'd collected, Adam accompanied Kate back in the direction of the waiting men. She slipped in the grass as he steered her towards the timber and immediately his arm was about her waist, supporting her until she regained her balance. For a brief moment they stood looking at each other and then Kate busied herself with the plants and continued on alone, confused.

1838 July – the Stewart farm

The Stewart homestead and outbuildings sat in the middle of the valley. The farm dwellings were mere specks from this distance, but on first sight it was a serene view. Trees appeared to have been cleared in a circle from the site, extending a half-mile to where the natural surrounds, lightly timbered country interspersed with pale green fields, resumed. The landscape was similar to some of the country Kate had journeyed through since leaving Sydney. It was like an English country estate, such as one saw in picture books. She almost expected to see a group of well-dressed men on horseback readying for a hunt.

James pointed out a gully that led from the eastern foothills across the valley floor. A narrow creek which no doubt would have to be crossed before they reached the Scotsman's run.

The house appeared expansive in proportion and the numerous outbuildings and series of yards suggested a profitable business had taken root. It was only after scrutiny that the tell-tale signs of recent trouble became apparent. The crops in the ground bore the scars
of recent firing and smoke drifted from a number of spots close to the main house. A large number of sheep grazed in close proximity and Kate commented that one mob in particular were very white. George Southerland informed her that they'd been recently shorn.

From the vantage point of the hill, the surrounding country appeared quiet although Kate was now aware of how deceptive the outer limits could be. Adam expected to reach the property by nightfall; indeed all hoped that would be the case for none were partial to spending another sleepless night outdoors and the party had been on the move since before daybreak. But the timing of their arrival, Adam explained, was based on walking straight downhill, veering westward and ensuring they kept to the open country afforded by the valley floor. The plan was not greeted favourably for along this path there would be few places to seek cover, a route that did not appeal to George Southerland.

‘I know this land now. I recognise the lay of it.' The overseer drew an outline of the undulating horizon with his finger in the air, turning on his heel towards the north-west. ‘The Hardys' farm is that way. Surely we're better off hugging the hills, keeping to the edge of the timber. That way has served us well so far and it will be quicker than your suggestion.'

‘We only travelled through that area because there was little choice,' Adam explained irritably. He was also trying to placate Bidjia by keeping Jardi away from the eastern foothills. The old man sensed trouble and not just from the renegade tracking them. Jardi had traced Mundara's camp and although the warrior was not present, he'd caught sight of the girl they'd seen at the river weeks previously. Once they'd reached the white man's run, Jardi intended to return to the camp and take the girl.

‘You were the one who suggested we head east first,' James reminded him. ‘You're meant to be our guide and what have you done but had us walking for nearly four days traversing ridges and gullies. We could have been at the farm by now.'

Bidjia interrupted his conversation with Jardi. He stared hard at the Major and then, turning his back on the group, walked down the slope a little to lean on his spear, one foot resting in the crook of his knee. His son joined him and soon the pair began to argue again.

‘You're still alive, aren't you?' Adam countered. They'd been on the move for too long. Now the group wasted time with their complaining while he sensed that Bidjia grew tired again.

‘Normally I'd be in agreement with you,' George Southerland consented. ‘It is always best to stay in open country, to see what's coming.' A stubby finger inched its way into his thick beard. ‘It's a pity we've no horses. We can't chase the bastards down if we're attacked.'

‘A quick hit with the stirrup-iron, eh?' Adam was finding it difficult to control his temper.

Kate felt ill at the thought of what Adam implied.

‘But we haven't seen a black in three days, nothing,' Mr Southerland continued as if Adam had not spoken. ‘These things always come in runs. The trouble's died down now. I reckon it's safe to walk on directly.'

‘I agree with you, George. If something happens and we're delayed,' James added, ‘there's scarcely anywhere to mount a decent stand.'

‘A decent stand?' George laughed. ‘Look, James, the blacks are uppity. They've been riled to melting point with what's been happening up here, but they're not like us. If they do come at us again it will be a quick skirmish. They'll run out, throw their spears and be gone again. I'm not saying it will happen, no, sir. I think we're safe, but the timber affords the quickest route making us assured of reaching the farm before dark. There's no fat moon to light our way tonight.'

‘So you would give them the advantage,' Adam complained. ‘We're dealing with a renegade half-caste and we've seen what
he's capable of.' He wiped sweat from his brow with a shirtsleeve. ‘And as for your thoughts on their ability to mount an attack, Southerland, I've seen it before west of Sydney, over the mountains. Small raiding parties are an effective means of –'

The Major bristled. ‘And you'd know about that, wouldn't you? In fact I'm thinking you'd know a lot about the area west of the mountains that edges into the Bathurst Plains.'

‘Stop it, the two of you,' Kate said loudly. ‘We are so close and yet you stand there arguing like children.'

The Major looked past Adam as if he didn't exist. ‘I wish the blacks would realise that if they don't measure up to what's expected of them they'll have no place in this country.'

‘They're not like us,' Adam responded. ‘They don't believe a person has the right to come onto their land and steal it away. They don't think it's fair that waterholes should be fouled by livestock, or that their women should be stolen, that their traditions should be destroyed. They don't care for money or progress, power or prestige, they think only of and for the land and the continuation of their way of life.' He paused, as if exhausted by the futility of his words. ‘They have chiefs but as for designated leaders to rally and lead their people into battle,' he shook his head, ‘their society is not organised that way. But they do have warriors, and some seek payback for the violations done to them.'

‘You should be shot for such talk.' James balled his fists. ‘You make them sound like damn patriots.'

Adam drew so close to the officer that their chests almost touched. ‘And isn't that what you call a people when their land is invaded and they are prepared to fight for the country they love?'

‘I will see you hang.' The words were strung out through gritted teeth.

‘But not before I get you to safety, eh, Major?' Adam stepped away.

There was no final decision. Kate simply took up a position
between James and Mr Southerland and silently they headed down towards the valley floor. Once out in the open they walked in an arrow formation – Adam at point and the two natives flanking the sides. It was mid-afternoon and the going was easy. The muscles in Kate's calves and thighs, well-worked from the hilly terrain they'd already crossed, gradually relaxed. She brushed the tops of the tall grass with her palms as they passed, trying to blot out James's harsh words.

As they crossed the valley floor the Major attempted to engage Kate in discussions pertaining to life in Sydney but she found her thoughts revisiting Adam's earlier remarks, particularly his use of the word ‘patriot'. She understood what was implied, indeed the man's words were clear enough, but to view the Aborigines as such flouted established thought, that the natives were a breed apart, savages that rightly should be contained, constrained, subjugated. Yet here were two natives leading them to safety.

Kate plucked at a piece of grass, twirling the pale length of it between her fingers. If the natives had been dispossessed of their lands, if the British settlers were in fact invaders and the British Government's declaration of
terra nullius
– that no-one had owned this land before the British Crown took possession of it – was simply enacted to ensure a convenient and therefore righteous excuse to subjugate a native peoples, then Adam was right and James was wrong. And hadn't George Southerland once said a similar thing on the journey north?

‘Your mind is on other things, Kate.'

‘I'm sorry, James. I was thinking about the natives, about what they must think of us.'

‘I doubt they think much at all, Kate. Some people say that they may well be linked back to the very first type of human. Accordingly there is much learned study being undertaken.'

‘Of what? The measurement of skulls and bones? Murder for rational understanding?'

‘I am amazed you could make such a comment after the slaughter of the Hardys!'

Kate could see his point and yet Adam had presented a compelling argument. ‘But do we not have criminals as well in our society?'

James gave a choked laugh. ‘Hardly a comparison.'

‘Why not? Why can't these things be compared?' Kate argued.

‘I have always doubted the appropriateness of a woman's education. Too much information can be detrimental and confusing, which is not your fault, Kate, but that of those who believe a necessity for such teachings in a modern age.'

‘Please, James, I have lived with a tribe on the Hardy farm. I have seen firsthand that they have the ability to learn English and their plant knowledge in regard to both foods and healing remedies is extensive. We talk of them being savages but did you not fell a native on request so that a skull could be sent to England for study? Did not Jonas Kable speak of his fine collection of native curiosities? If the natives are savages, then surely we are barbarians.'

‘I think you have had your head turned by our guide, Kate.' The Major's blue eyes were accusatory. ‘He is little more than a savage himself and you can be assured that his rebellious days will soon be over.'

The possibility of a response was not given for the Major was already dropping back to walk side by side with the overseer. Although disappointed, Kate knew she should not be surprised by James's comments. He was not alone in his beliefs. As a child she'd thought she would grow old with two cats for company. Such a life remained a possibility for there were few men in the world who gave women their due. Kate looked ahead to where Adam walked … very few.

The afternoon sun was slowly wreathed in patchy cloud. Intricate patterns appeared across the hills, which edged prettily
away to the west. It was like watching a moving tapestry, as varied cloud shadows slid across the surface of the land, tipping trees and slopes, ridges and gullies, gliding across grasses thick and lush. At some point an understanding came to her as she watched the countryside transform beneath a changing sky. Money and supplies, the establishment of homes and businesses, labour, families, none of it was possible without the land, and here it was in its pristine state. Kate could see and feel it; an all-encompassing beauty, that in this place, for the briefest of moments, made her consider that if there was a God then maybe he dwelt here, in this land.

‘Do you think he knows what he's doing?' The overseer had exchanged places, coming to walk by Kate's side.

‘Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts,' Kate admitted.

‘I was talking about him.' Mr Southerland gestured ahead to where Adam maintained a steady gait. ‘I hope he knows what he's doing.'

‘You're following him,' Kate pointed out. ‘We all are.'

‘Well, we're nearly there. A couple more hours and you'll have a roof over your head again.' He slung the musket he carried over a shoulder. ‘You've been talking to him. What's he told you?'

‘Why?' The comment was said lightly but Kate knew from experience that Mr Southerland never did or said anything without a reason.

‘He's from Sydney originally,' he began, ‘born there, like you, but convict blood on both sides.'

‘How do you know that?' Kate was intrigued.

‘He told me.'

She couldn't recall the two men talking beyond the necessary, but by nightfall Kate was invariably so tired that it was possible the two men had struck up conversation.

‘He's had a hard life, abandoned, reared by blacks,' the overseer continued. ‘They say there's a few like him roaming the country, but there's more of them that are of mixed-blood than pure white.'

Kate thought of her namesake, Sally's child. ‘Will Sally and the others still be at the farm when you go back?'

‘Who knows? Most likely they will have moved on by now, considering the troubles.' The overseer coughed, wiping his nose on the arm of his shirt, and briefly studied what had been deposited. ‘But you know it's a grand thing for a man to be educated. I wonder how our guide managed his letters out in the bush.'

‘He said a settler family schooled him.'

‘Ah, I would have thought some God-fearing missionary got his hands on him,' he replied conversationally. ‘The Lycetts?' the overseer probed. ‘Was that their name?'

‘Yes, I think so.' Kate turned towards him. ‘If you didn't know how he was educated, where did you hear of the name Lycett?'

The man squinted into the sun. ‘He's not who you think he is, Kate.' Mr Southerland nodded over his shoulder at the Major.

The exchange unnerved Kate. ‘And do you know who he is?'

‘We do now. We just needed to have a few facts confirmed before we arrived at Stewart's place. Best to know what's what, eh?'

Ahead, Adam slowed his pace to talk to his two friends. The elder of the natives was arguing with the younger, who, lifting his spear, pointed to the east. A thin stream of smoke was just visible in the distance. Was it the warrior who'd attacked the Hardys? Kate wondered. She dearly wanted to ask but felt unsure after what had just transpired. Adam had entrusted her with certain personal information and Kate had naively shared it with George Southerland, who in turn appeared complicit with the Major. Whatever their guide may or may not have done, Kate had unwittingly assisted in their investigations.