Blood in the Dust Page 21

  The miner screamed and arched his back with the agony of the whip’s kiss. He spun from between Annie’s legs and came to his feet in the same movement, a bone-handled knife in his hand.

  ‘You little bastard,’ he spat at Toby. ‘I’ll kill you for that.’ He took a step forward before he realised his trousers were still around his ankles. As he stooped to hitch them up, Toby flicked the whip again. This time the flayed leather thong at the end of the whip whispered in between the miner’s hands as he struggled with his trousers. The foreskin of the miner’s penis took the full force of the strike. There was a moment of silence except for the echo of the whip crack as it died in the distance. Then the miner let fly a blood-curdling scream and fell to his knees. He dropped the knife, cupped his manhood with both hands and rolled onto his side, writhing in agony.

  Now the miner’s hairy buttocks were exposed to Toby and he sent the whip singing out once more. The miner’s continuous scream rose in pitch as the whip raised a large red weal across his bare backside. He screamed for several breaths then looked up at Toby to see him re-coiling the whip for another strike.

  ‘Please! No more!’ Mud-streaked tears rolled down his whiskered cheeks.

  ‘Run,’ Toby said, the venom in his voice as harsh as the lash of the whip. ‘Run, before I take your balls off.’

  The miner struggled to his feet. With one hand still pressed against his damaged manhood and the other holding his trousers up, he started off down the hill, picking up speed with every pace.

  Toby dropped the whip and ran to where Annie lay sprawled in the bushes. She had half pulled her skirts back down to cover her thighs, but her blouse and shift were torn beyond use and she struggled feebly to cover her breasts. Toby shrugged his shirt off, placing it over her shoulders and drawing it closed across her chest.

  ‘Are you all right, Annie? Did he hurt you?’

  Blood ran from the corner of her mouth and a bruise had begun to shade her right eye. ‘No. You got here just in time,’ she said between sobs and placed her head against his chest.

  Toby held her tight as she cried. He stroked her hair and pulled twigs and leaves from the sable strands. It was several minutes before she had her crying under control. She lifted her head and looked up at Toby.

  ‘My God! Do you know what he was going to do to me?’ she whispered. The thought of it almost brought her back to tears and she fought bravely to control herself.

  ‘It’s over, Annie. He’s gone. I sent him packing. Let’s get you back to camp.’ Toby stood and helped her to her feet, but her knees buckled and he swept her up in his arms. He carried her back to camp with her head on his shoulder. As they passed the horse yard she placed her lips against Toby’s ear and kissed it softly.

  ‘I love you, Toby O’Rourke,’ she whispered.

  Frank kicked things aside as he stormed about the camp. He clenched and unclenched his fists in quick succession then fronted Toby and took hold of him by the shirt.

  ‘Are you sure you gave this piece of scum a good whipping, Toby? One he’ll never forget in a hurry?’

  ‘I damn near took his balls off, Frank.’

  ‘You should have taken his bloody balls off,’ Frank yelled and went back to pacing. ‘Simpson, that’s his name. Big red-bearded bastard. Wait till I see that piece of dung. I’ll do more than take his balls off.’

  ‘Frank. Your language. The girls.’ Maree tried to restrain him.

  ‘My language is the least of their problems,’ he rounded on her. ‘If they don’t starve to death or catch some illness from the filth of this place, then some randy digger with a gleam in his eye will drag them off into the bush to have his way with them.’

  Maree opened her hands, pleading. ‘Annie’s fine, Frank. Toby got there in time, thank the Lord. Please, let it be now. She doesn’t need to be reminded of it every few minutes.’

  Frank stopped and pointed a finger at his wife. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. The finger curled back into his fist.

  ‘Christ, I need a drink.’ He dropped the fist to his side and strode out of the circle of firelight.

  Toby got to his feet and went to go after him, but Maree stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  ‘Let him go, Toby. He’ll have a drink or two, or maybe more, but he’ll be better to talk to tomorrow.’

  Toby settled back onto the log that was his seat. ‘I think we should make a rule, Maree.’

  Maree was watching Frank’s back as it disappeared into the darkness, a look of anguish on her face. ‘What’s that?

  ‘You and the girls should not take any shortcuts that take you out of sight of regular folk on the diggings, especially down the back of this hill. It’s just too far from any camps and the bush far too dense. An army could hide along that track.’

  ‘I think that is a very good idea, Toby. We shall make it so.’

  Frank came back into camp in the early hours of the morning, drunk and singing a bawdy song that woke Toby when he was only halfway up the gully. He heard a whispered exchange from Frank and Maree’s tent, then all fell into silence.

  Lying in his cot, Toby thought about the events of the day and their situation in general. Frank was turning to drink more often than not lately, and it was taking its toll on their finances. While they had been luckier than most in pulling good pay dirt from their claims, some months were pretty tight when it came to buying provisions and renewing the ever-important gold licence.

  Something needs to change, he told himself as he lay staring up into the inky blackness above his head. We certainly can’t keep going like this.

  He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. A smile came across his face as he thought of those warm lips touching his ear and the words of endearment Annie had whispered to him as he carried her into camp. With the memory of that tender touch still filling his mind, Toby slept at last.

  The white canvas of the tent was aglow with sunlight as dawn broke through the trees behind the camp. Paddy could hear something sizzling in the pan and the smell of frying bacon filled the air. He loved bacon for breakfast. It made such a change from the usual lamb chops, but today the aroma did little to rouse his appetite. He was usually hungry enough to beat his brother out to the cooking fire, but this morning a bone-weary ache had settled into his joints.

  He heard Maree’s voice from the campfire. ‘Where’s young Paddy this morning?’

  ‘He was stirring when I got up,’ answered Toby. ‘I’ll check on him.’

  The tent flap opened and his brother appeared.

  ‘Come on, lazybones. You gonna stay in bed all day?’ Then the chiding expression on Toby’s face changed to one of concern. ‘You feeling crook, mate? You’re as white as a sheet. It’s not one of your headaches, is it?’

  Paddy made to lift his head, but a spasm of shivers wracked his body and he fell back to the pillow, pulling the blankets tight about his neck.

  Toby moved into the tent and placed the palm of his hand on Paddy’s forehead. ‘You’ve got a fever. Does it hurt anywhere else?’

  Paddy extended a finger from beneath the blankets and pointed to his throat.

  ‘Sore throat, hey? Got some aches and pains in the joints too, I suppose?’

  Paddy nodded.

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Maree stuck her head through the opening, a look of motherly concern on her face.

  ‘Looks like he’s got the flu,’ Toby said.

  ‘You poor darling.’ She strode into the tent in a bustle of skirts, pushed Toby away and placed her hand on Paddy’s forehead. Not satisfied with that, she pulled the blankets out of his grasp and felt about his throat and jawline with tender, probing fingers. Then she ordered Paddy to sit up in the bed and pulled his nightshirt up about his ears so she could examine his chest and back.

  ‘No spots or blotches on his skin. It doesn’t look like measles or mumps. I think your brother is right, Master O’Rourke. Well, we shall just have to take special care of you until y
ou are well enough to go back to work,’ she said with finality.

  At midday Toby brought a pannikin of soup that Maree had made.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  Paddy rocked the palm of his hand back and forth and took the pannikin.

  ‘We’ll be down to the shale shortly,’ Toby said gloomily, and sat on the edge of his cot.

  Paddy was well aware that once they had revealed the dark, slate-grey stone, the shaft had turned out a shicer, a claim that didn’t pay.

  ‘Frank is of the opinion that we should pull up stakes and try our luck on another lead, or move on to another diggings altogether,’ Toby added. ‘There’s a bit of a move on to the Ovens district, but I think they’re all the same if you ask me. One place is as good as another. It’s the luck of the digger that changes the outcome.’ He took the empty pannikin from Paddy.

  ‘More?’

  Paddy shook his head.

  ‘Some of the other diggers along the gully are saying that the real gold is below the shale. They reckon that if a man could get through it there would be enough gold to fill a wheelbarrow. Hah!’ He threw his hands up in a dismissive gesture as he realised what he was saying. The only thing there was plenty of on the diggings was stories about where there was plenty of gold. ‘A man could blunt a hundred picks trying to dig his way through that stuff.’

  Toby left the tent in a sombre mood. Paddy felt far too sick to care what was happening beyond the canvas walls of the tent. He let his thoughts drift to the pond below the homestead and wondered if the wild ducks were back this year.

  On Sunday morning Toby pulled the muskets from beneath his cot and carried them to breakfast. Annie stood at the cooking fire, chops sizzling in the pan and the billy on the boil.

  ‘Good morning.’

  She smiled as Toby stepped under the tarpaulin shelter they had erected over the campfire during the last rainy day. Her parents sat on the far side. Maree sliced potatoes into the camp oven while Frank laced his boots. Annie never usually showed too much affection in front of her parents, but this morning she stepped up to Toby, kissed his cheek then took his hand and led him to his seat.

  If Frank noticed the kiss he chose to ignore it. He finished lacing his boots and took up the plate of food waiting beside him.

  ‘How’s my patient this morning?’ Maree asked.

  ‘Still sleeping,’ said Toby. ‘He didn’t stir much during the night. I think he’ll be as right as rain in another day or two.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it Frank?’ she said and nudged her husband with an elbow to prompt an answer.

  Frank muttered something unintelligible and didn’t bother to look up.

  ‘If you wouldn’t go off drinking every Saturday night, I think you’d find the Sundays a little more tolerable,’ Maree added.

  ‘You going out alone?’ Annie asked, pointing at the muskets.

  ‘If I’m going to get some more skins for those rugs,’ Toby said. ‘Unless Frank wants to come along for the ride?’ he inquired, knowing full well what the answer would be. Frank was not much of a horseman at the best of times, and in his self-induced state of illness, the thought of a day spent rocking and rolling on horseback was almost enough to cause his breakfast to reappear.

  ‘Not bloody likely, lad,’ he said, and belched as he stood and grabbed his tool bag. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a wagon to repair over at Government Camp.’

  ‘I could go with Toby,’ Annie offered.

  Frank spun about so fast he almost lost his balance. He took a little sidestep to stay on his feet and his pale face filled with colour. ‘What? Have you two lovebirds ride off into the countryside alone? I don’t think so. Anyway, you can’t ride a horse, my girl,’ he added, as if that took care of the matter.

  ‘I certainly can ride a horse, Papa,’ Annie said. ‘I ride Patch and Moonlight all the time when we take them out for fresh grass. We have to ride them well out of the diggings to find good grazing.’

  ‘But you’ll still be unescorted. That’s the part that concerns me, my girl. Boys and girls being what boys and girls are.’

  Toby, a little awed by Annie’s brazen proposal, realised his honour was in question.

  ‘Frank, I can assure you that Annie and I—’

  ‘You can assure me all you like, lad. But I know what happens to assurances when a man starts thinking with a different head than the one sitting on his shoulders.’

  ‘Papa! Toby has shown himself to be nothing but a proper gentleman. He would never do anything—’

  Frank held up a hand and Annie dutifully dropped into silence despite her rising temper.

  ‘I know Toby is a good lad, Annie, and I know you will never be in safer hands than when you are with him. But can he protect you from himself? It’s quite obvious the feelings you two have for each other, and I welcome the day when Toby will be my son-in-law, but it should be after a proper courtship that follows the normal custom.’

  ‘Look around yourself, you daft beggar,’ Maree shouted. ‘Look at this place.’ She climbed to her feet and pointed up the gully at the tents and mullock heaps stretching away into the distance. ‘Does this look like a normal place to you? How can they follow normal custom when there is nothing normal about where we are? Here, we have to make our own kind of normal. Let them go off together, Frank. There’s no shame in them wanting to spend a day alone. Whatever happens, I think their future together was ordained by the saints themselves.’ She stopped, took a deep breath, then went on. ‘Have you forgotten that time we snuck away to the Hastings Fair before we were betrothed?’

  ‘And have you forgotten what we got up to under the millstream bridge on the way home?’ Frank jumped in, then looked sheepishly at Annie and Toby, realising he had revealed a little too much.

  ‘Exactly,’ Maree blurted ‘Our future together was meant to be. Otherwise I would never have let you get those rough hands of yours underneath my skirts.’

  Toby, embarrassed by the direction the discussion had taken, tried to cut in. ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Quiet, Toby,’ Maree snapped, holding the palm of her hand up. ‘Let them have their time together, Frank,’ she said, turning back to her husband. ‘You know that they will end up together no matter what. You said yourself, Toby is a good lad. Our Annie is lucky to have him, and you know he will never hurt her.’

  Frank stood as still as a river gum while he thought about his wife’s words. Finally, he nodded his head in agreement. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘But I want you back before sunset.’ He dropped his tool bag to the ground and stepped across to Toby. ‘You look after my little girl,’ he said, through unmoving lips.

  Toby nodded his head. ‘Yes, sir.’

  Frank held his gaze for one lingering moment, then turned, gathered up his tool bag, and wandered off in the direction of Government Camp.

  They found a pair of trousers for Annie so that she would be able to sit astride Patch without the worry of her skirts riding up. She borrowed one of Toby’s chequered shirts, and when she stepped from her tent wearing the garb, he was shocked by the transformation in her appearance. With her mother’s help she had tied her long dark hair up into a tight bun at the back of her head. Over this she had pulled down a broad-brimmed cabbage-tree hat. It was only the graceful lines of her face that revealed this was a woman standing before him.

  ‘Ready,’ she said, and giggled with excitement.

  After leaving the camp, Toby led them across the creek and turned west, following it downstream for a mile or so before turning away again. They kept moving westwards, picking their way through clusters of tents and mullock heaps.

  The sea of tents gradually thinned out as they climbed into the hills and left the cleared land behind. The bush closed around them, wrapping horses and riders in its verdant cloak.

  Annie chatted away as they rode and Toby marvelled at the sound of her voice. She spoke about nothing and everything, all at once. The topic of conversation shifted from the height of the trees to th
e approaching summer.

  In a grove of tall gum trees Toby dismounted and pulled the Lovell from its scabbard.

  ‘I don’t see any possums, Toby.’ Annie had her face turned skywards, searching the branches. ‘How do you know which tree to look up?’

  ‘Come down here and I’ll show you,’ Toby said, and went to help her off the horse. He led her to the trunk of a nearby tree. ‘Place your mouth close to the bark and breathe out in a heavy sigh.’

  Annie looked at him and tried not to laugh. ‘You’re pulling my leg, Mr O’Rourke?’

  ‘Not at all. I’ll show you.’ He leaned in close to the tree and exhaled onto the bark. Then he moved around the tree and repeated the action. ‘Here! You try it.’

  She moved to where Toby indicated and leaned in close, letting out a long breath onto the trunk.

  ‘What did you see where you breathed?’ Toby asked.

  ‘The moisture from my breath is stuck to little tiny hairs on the tree.’

  ‘That’s the belly fur from a possum where it stuck to the bark as it clambered up the tree. There’s one up there all right.’ He stepped back and cocked the musket, searching the branches.

  ‘There he is!’

  Toby took aim and fired. Moments later a furry brown body fell to the ground.

  ‘That’s one,’ Toby said. ‘Paddy and I have already hunted this area out. ‘There will be heaps more deeper into the bush. Let’s move on. There’s a place I want to show you.’

  Toby helped her back onto Patch and then led them away through the trees.

  At mid-morning they reined in beside a large pool below a waterfall that crashed down forty feet from a rocky overhang. He dismounted and went back to assist Annie out of the saddle, then they walked the horses down to the water’s edge to drink. Annie found a place on one of the granite boulders rimming the pool where they could look down into the crystal depths as they ate scones that Maree had packed.

  ‘It’s very beautiful here,’ Annie said, looking up at the high rock walls, at the overhanging trees and ferns.

  ‘Yes,’ Toby answered. ‘We often stop here when I come out hunting with Paddy. It’s one of my favourite places.’