Blood in the Dust Page 16

  Toby pulled the funnel from his jacket and showed it to the sergeant as he explained about the gathering crowd, Ivan, and the storekeeper’s dog.

  McTavish looked up at Ivan. ‘If Mr O’Rourke doesn’t want to press assault charges, you’re free to go.’

  Toby shook his head. Ivan went to walk away, but stopped and gestured at the storekeeper. ‘What about the gold he stole from me?’

  ‘Just hearsay, isn’t it?’ the sergeant mused. ‘You have no proof, unlike Mr O’Rourke. Now, go away. I’m sure you don’t want to spend two weeks chained to the tree at Government Camp waiting for the magistrate to pay us a visit.’ That was enough for Ivan. No miner could afford two weeks without working his claim. He turned and strode down the path towards Golden Point.

  ‘Good to see you again, laddie.’ McTavish stepped forward and shook Toby’s hand.

  Toby pushed his hat back on his head and grinned at the policeman. He turned to the native policeman, now standing beside the sergeant. Barraworn shifted the carbine to his left hand so that Toby could shake it, then hesitated, his right hand half offered and the grin slipping from his face.

  ‘Sorry, boss. Some fellas don’t like to shake a black fella’s hand.’

  Toby grasped Barraworn’s hand and pumped it heartily. ‘I’ll shake your hand anytime, Barraworn,’ he said, then noticed the bewildered look on Frank’s face. ‘I’m sorry, Frank. This is Sergeant McTavish and Barraworn. They were at the police post in Bunyong Creek. They tried to chase down the cove that killed my ma and pa.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, gentlemen,’ Frank said, shaking both their hands. ‘I don’t like to think what would’ve happened if you two hadn’t shown up.’

  ‘How come you’re here?’ Toby asked. ‘I thought you’d be back at Bunyong Creek.’

  ‘The police post at Bunyong Creek is no more.’ McTavish shook his head. ‘They decided to close it down. Like a lot of other small places. Police presence at all the major diggings needed to be increased. We were ordered to report here for duties as directed by the gold commissioner.’ He looked Toby up and down. ‘So, this is where you ended up, laddie? I heard about Henry Pelham’s dealings. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do for you.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there was, Sergeant,’ Toby said. ‘He had everything in place. When our cattle got duffed, he made his move.’

  McTavish nodded. ‘Sly old fox, that one. Still, I feel pretty bad.’ He pointed at the funnel in Toby’s hand. ‘I’ll need to take that and the gold dust inside it to show the magistrate. I’m sure this laddie won’t mind compensating you for the loss of your gold, hey!’ He prodded Marcevic with the toe of his boot and the storekeeper nodded vigorously. ‘Take what you feel is fair compensation from his wares. I’ll leave Barraworn to guard the rest of it until I get this gentleman secured to the tree at Government Camp.’

  Toby and Frank turned towards the store, both grinning like village idiots. They selected a couple of gold washing pans, two gallons of paraffin oil and a new lantern. Then they gathered up some foodstuffs, sacks of flour, sugar, tea and twenty pounds of rice.

  Toby kept a running tally of the price in his head, but McTavish called out, ‘Don’t be shy, gentlemen. I’m sure Mr Marcevic is offering wholesale prices to compensate for the trouble he has caused.’

  When they shook the sergeant’s hand and left for their camp, they each pushed a wheelbarrow piled high with equipment and stores. Toby topped his load off with a bag of chaff for the horses.

  Lieutenant Governor La Trobe sat stiff-backed behind his desk as he perused the latest reports from various outposts dotted about his domain. He rubbed his chin nervously as he anticipated the reaction to his next dispatch to Earl Grey, the Secretary of State for the Colonies. The fledgling colony was almost two years old, having separated from New South Wales in 1851, and the way to a bright and golden future lay before them, and yet it seemed he was unable to include a modicum of good news in any of his reports.

  The present is certainly golden, he thought. The Victorian goldfields were showing enough promise to far outstrip their counterparts in New South Wales. It hardly seemed a day went by without news of a new find filtering in from the bushlands. To any other person this would come as good news, but to the lieutenant governor it was another reason for the thinning of his limited resources. A new goldfield meant a new rush of humanity to an otherwise wild piece of land and, wherever humanity gathered in his colony, he was expected – nay, it was his duty – to ensure a government presence in sufficient numbers to enforce the laws and regulations of the Crown.

  And therein lay the problem. It seemed every able-bodied man with enough strength to turn over a shovelful of dirt was abandoning his station and setting off to make his fortune on one of the diggings. Gold fever had created a labour shortage the likes of which had never been known before – and it was hardly restricted to the government. He had invited several prominent businessmen to dine with him on the previous Saturday evening, and they had all complained in one way or another that they were hard put to find manpower.

  He could do little but sympathise with them. He had raised the gold licence fee as high as he dared in an effort to quell the bush-bound migration. He had made it known that every labourer or hired hand should be indentured to his employer for a given period of time. But if the fellow chose to ignore that indenture and head off to make his fortune, there was little the law could do about it.

  He shuffled through the reports to find one that backed up his line of thought. It seemed every brigand and cut-throat with darkness in his heart had found his way to the colony. Reports came in daily of highway robbery and murder taking place somewhere on the colony’s roads or in the diggings. He found the report he was looking for and smoothed it out.

  That’s right, he reminded himself as he scanned the report. It seems this fellow Anderson has enlisted the help of a group of natives and is holding up travellers on the roads between the diggings, raping and murdering as he goes. The writer of the report, a captain currently stationed at the Bendigo diggings, went on to describe several attempts to hunt down this Anderson and his band of rogues, but the chap seemed well versed in using rough country to aide his escape, as one could well expect from a man consorting with natives.

  He pushed the pile of reports out into the middle of his desk and called for his aide.

  ‘Childers?’

  The large door across from his desk swung open. A tall man in an immaculate military uniform entered.

  ‘Your Excellency?’

  ‘What is the current reward posted on this fellow Anderson?’ The lieutenant governor tapped the topmost report as he spoke.

  ‘Two hundred and fifty pounds, Excellency.’

  ‘Have it doubled immediately.’

  ‘I shall have the clerk draft a request to the printers before the day is out, sir.’

  ‘Good man.’ He waved Childers away with a casual flick of his hand. As his aide pulled the door closed, La Trobe leaned well back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.

  ‘We shall see if that doesn’t encourage someone to rat the rascal out,’ he said aloud, allowing himself a brief moment of relaxation. In his mind he had already begun to compose his next report to Earl Grey.

  As Annie stepped from the tent into the cool of pre-dawn, she immediately noted the blanket of mist in the bottom of the gully and was glad of the heavy, woollen jumper she had pulled on when she dressed. The jumper had once been Tom’s, one he had worn while working as a labourer, and she imagined she could still smell the musky odour of his sweat. Sometimes, when she was in a melancholy mood, she would bury her face in the sleeve of the garment and take in a huge breath. For the briefest of moments, while she held that breath, her brother was there with her.

  As she did every morning, she immediately searched the campsite for Toby. No one else had emerged yet, but the sound of movement from the boys’ tent beyond the wagonette told her she would not have long to wait, so sh
e went to the fire and examined the bed of coals. There was still a faint glow among the embers and a fistful of dry grass soon had the flames building.

  Betty was the next to emerge and Annie sent her to fetch the lamb chops from where they hung in a damp calico bag tied to the branch of a tree by the wagonette. She added wood to the fire and began heating the big frying pan. By the time everyone was up and gathering around the campfire, she had breakfast sizzling away.

  ‘That smells marvellous,’ Toby said as he knocked dirt out of his boots and sat on his favourite log by the fire to pull them on.

  ‘It won’t be too long, Toby,’ Annie said, giving him a bright smile. ‘Would you like coffee this morning? I can grind the last of the beans you and Papa got from that storekeeper if you like. The billy’s almost on the boil.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Toby answered quickly.

  Annie knew that Toby had developed a liking for coffee and had secreted away a little stash of beans so she could surprise him.

  Paddy took his usual place on the log beside Toby as Annie dished up the chops onto plates and Betty carried them to each person in turn. They ate in relative silence as around them the diggings came to life. Some men were already on the move towards their claims with tools slung over their shoulders or piled into barrows. Others were still eating breakfast around their own campfires.

  ‘Want first shift in the hole today, Toby?’ Frank asked.

  Toby looked at him across the top of his cup of coffee. ‘Actually, I’d like to check on Moonlight first. I think he has a shoe working loose. If I don’t do something about it, he may hurt himself.’

  ‘Ooh! Poor Moonlight,’ Annie cooed.

  ‘As soon as I finish breakfast, I’ll go and check on him.’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Betty stated from across the fire.

  ‘You’ll finish your breakfast first, girl,’ Maree said firmly, and Betty hurriedly cut at her chop.

  When everyone had eaten, Annie gathered their plates and placed them in the wash tub while she waited for the big kettle to boil. Toby and Betty wandered up the path to the horse yard and Frank and Paddy loaded the cradle and digging equipment into the barrow. Maree helped Annie wash the dishes and they were nearly finished when Toby came back down the hillside, a glum look on his face.

  ‘He has a loose shoe, all right. I’m sorry, Frank, but I need to do something about it before I get started.’

  Frank was knocking his pipe out on the handle of the barrow. ‘Best you see to it, then, lad. I know how important that animal is to you. Paddy and me can make a start at the claim.’

  ‘I’ll have to take him down to Blacky Pete’s,’ Toby said. ‘He’s the closest thing to a farrier around here. He’ll probably relish the change from sharpening picks. Betty can come with me if she likes.’

  ‘Oh, yes please! Mama, Papa, can I? Please?’ The young girl danced beside Toby.

  ‘If it’s fine with Toby, then it’s fine with me,’ Maree said as she stacked clean plates on the tailboard of the wagonette.

  ‘You mind your manners while you’re out and about, young lady,’ Frank added. ‘Do exactly as Toby tells you, without any backchat. Understand?’

  Betty clasped her hands in front of her pinafore and gave her father an angelic look. ‘I will, Papa.’

  Toby retrieved a halter from the ridge pole of his tent. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can, Frank.’ Betty took the halter out of Toby’s hand.

  ‘I know how to put the halter on. I’ll do it for you. Can I ride on Moonlight’s back while you take him down to Blacky Pete’s?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ Toby said, and the girl squealed with delight.

  Annie watched them go up the hillside, her sister holding Toby’s sleeve and trying to urge him to greater speed.

  ‘She’s full of beans now,’ her mother remarked.

  ‘Toby will keep her occupied for a while. At least you and I can get some work done in peace.’ She turned to her father and Paddy as they started away towards the claim. ‘I shall bring morning tea down at the usual time, Papa.’

  Frank waved and he and Paddy headed out.

  ‘It looks as if we are in for a bit of sun today, my girl. I should like to bring the bedding out and give it an air. What do you think?’

  ‘It could certainly do with it, Mama,’ Annie replied. ‘I’ll strip the boys’ cots if you want to do our tents.’

  Annie went to Toby and Paddy’s tent and tied the flaps back to allow a little air through. The cots were at either side with the space in between covered with loose boards so that they might stay out of the dust and mud. Paddy’s cot was on the left, the bedclothes all bunched up at the foot where he had kicked them off before climbing out of bed. In contrast, Toby had pulled his blankets up and smoothed them out before leaving the tent. Annie quickly stripped both beds and carried the blankets and linen to where her father and Toby had tied a long rope between two gum trees to make a clothes line, hanging them to air in the sunshine and growing breeze.

  The two women fussed about the campsite for an hour, cleaning and neatening as best they could. The sides of the tents were stained with dust and mud. Dust seemed to be on everything and Annie wondered if her mother missed the little stone cottage in Hastings that had been their home before coming to Australia. She dared not ask and risk bringing on a bout of tears. Maree seemed happy enough, humming as she worked, a smile on her face.

  ‘Shall I make a damper for morning tea, Mama?’ she asked instead.

  ‘I think everyone would like that, Annie. Toby especially.’ Her mother gave her a knowing look. ‘He seems to have developed a great fondness for your cooking.’

  Annie went to the tailboard of the wagonette that served as the camp’s kitchen bench and began pouring flour into a large enamel basin. She had made damper bread often enough that she didn’t need to measure out the flour.

  ‘What do you think of Toby, Mama?’

  Maree looked up from where she was sweeping in front of the boys’ tent with a straw broom. ‘He seems a good, kind lad who picks his words carefully before he speaks. He reminds me so much of Tom.’

  ‘Me too, Mama. He’s not the rough colonial one would expect,’ Annie said as she worked. ‘I think he is a fine man.’

  ‘Definitely husband material.’

  ‘Mama!’ Annie was so startled by her mother’s remark, she nearly dropped the egg she was holding. She looked to Maree and saw the cheeky smile on her face.

  ‘You could do a lot worse, Annie. A lot worse.’

  ‘I don’t think Toby sees himself as husband material, Mama. And sometimes his mood is a little too dark.’

  Maree came over and propped the broom against the tailboard. ‘Given what has happened, he is certainly entitled to be a little moody from time to time. Paddy too. Toby is still fighting the demons of his past, but I’ve seen one smile from you chase those demons away, if only for a little while.’

  Annie turned her face towards the trail to the horse yard. It was empty. She enjoyed Toby’s company. He could be so serious and funny and caring, sometimes all at the same time. Looking about the camp, she wondered just what life in this strange place would be like if Toby and his brother weren’t in it.

  She was still thinking about Toby as she kneaded the dough and waited for the camp oven to heat.

  Standing at the edge of the mineshaft, Frank looked down into the darkness and lifted the lantern out of the barrow. He drew hard on his pipe until the tobacco in the bowl glowed, then used it to light a gum leaf that he in turn used to light the wick of the lantern.

  ‘We’re about eight feet below the bottom of the shoring,’ he said, more to himself than for Paddy’s benefit. ‘Once I get the shaft down to ten feet we’ll need to scrounge some more timber and brace that last bit. The gravel down there is too loose to trust to providence.’ Beside him, Paddy nodded his understanding.

  ‘Maybe four or five barrowloads to put through the cradle, Pad. Then I’ll need you here to help with the
timber work.’

  Paddy nodded again and Frank pulled two picks and one of the shovels out of the barrow. In the early days, when the shaft was still shallow, they had simply used a length of rope to haul tools and the bucket up and down, hand over hand. As their skills had improved, and the shaft grew deeper, they had followed the example of other diggers and built a simple windlass over the pit. He tied the tools to the rope and turned the windlass handle, lowering them into the opening, unwinding steadily until the rope went slack. Then, with lantern in hand, he climbed onto the ladder and descended into the dark square.

  They had dug to a depth of about sixty feet and had lined the sides of the shaft with timber to prevent it from caving in. Frank had used his carpentry skills to fashion a ladder that was better than most on the diggings. This was tied to the shoring at intervals with pieces of rope that could be undone when the time came to lower the ladder further into the mine. About halfway down, Frank noticed that one of these ropes had come undone and he placed the handle of the lantern between his teeth to free his hands while he tied it off, one arm looped through a rung.

  The lantern swung about as he moved his head and the pool of light it cast washed about the walls of the shaft as he worked. Near his left shoulder, a trickle of dirt and stones spilled between a gap in the shoring where one of the boards had worked loose and Frank made a mental note to repair the shoring here when they added more bracing near the bottom.

  Continuing down the ladder, the ring of lantern light travelled with him until it finally lit the bottom. Toby had been the last digger in the mine yesterday and Frank could see a pile of wash-dirt the lad had left piled in one corner. He quickly untied the tools and yelled up the shaft to where Paddy’s head and shoulders were silhouetted against the sky.

  ‘Your brother has left us some wash-dirt, lad. Send the bucket straight down.’

  He heard Paddy clap his hands twice to signal he had understood. Moments later the creaking of the windlass filled the mine and the rope retreated upwards. A minute later he heard three claps and stood aside as the bucket descended towards him, tied to the rope.