Blood in the Dust Page 25

  ‘Are you blokes all right?’ Jim shouted, as Hissing Harriet wound down. He pulled the pressure relief, sending a cloud of steam skywards, then went to help Toby with Horrie.

  ‘I’m all right,’ Toby said, ‘but I think Horrie’s out cold.’

  They got Horrie into a sitting position. Blood ran from a graze on the back of his head, soaked up by the collar of his shirt. His eyes opened and he looked about dazedly, unsure of where he was. Then his gaze settled on Toby’s concerned face. ‘Did one of the horses kick me in the head?’ he muttered, and lifted a hand to the wound on his scalp.

  ‘Hissing Harriet tried to kill you,’ Toby said. ‘The drive belt broke.’

  ‘The bitch,’ Horrie said, examining the blood on his hand.

  Jim went to where the belt had bunched up onto the saw blade. The leather had been slashed and holed by the blade’s teeth. ‘We won’t be doin’ too much cutting with this,’ he said, throwing the leather down in disgust. ‘It’ll take me hours to organise a new one. You blokes might as well have the rest of the day off. Looks like we’ll be working through this Sunday to make up for lost time.’

  Despite his concern for Horrie’s injuries, Toby couldn’t help but smile. A midweek trip into Ballarat to see Annie. She’d be delighted.

  Toby rode Moonlight to the east around Bakery Hill to reach the camp. Here, the tracks and trails wound through old and new mullock heaps. At one pit a group of diggers stood at their windlass puffing on pipes while two armed troopers examined a piece of paper Toby recognised as a gold licence. Further along the diggings a miner called for his mate from the top of a mullock heap, his hands circled about his mouth like a loud hailer.

  ‘Joe! Joe!’

  At the Melbourne road he waited for a bullock team hauling an overloaded dray to pass by. He held his breath as he crossed the road through the dust and moved into the diggings on the far side. He had not gone more than twenty yards when a familiar voice hailed him.

  ‘Toby?’

  Frank stood at the top of a mullock heap waving his hat in the air.

  ‘I thought it was you.’ He slid down the loose gravel. ‘What are you doing here in the middle of the week? You haven’t quit your job, have you?’ There was a hint of hope in Frank’s voice.

  Toby laughed at the suggestion. ‘What? And go back to digging holes in the ground for a living? Not bloody likely. The belt broke, so Jim gave us the rest of the day off.’

  ‘You’ll be staying for lunch, then?’ Frank asked, and then, without waiting for an answer, ‘Annie will be tickled pink.’

  Paddy slid down the side of the hill and slapped Toby across the back with a huge arm that almost knocked the wind out of him.

  ‘Good to see you, too.’ Toby patted Paddy on the back, raising a small dust cloud. ‘Showing any colour?’

  Paddy glanced around furtively and cautiously held up his right hand with thumb and forefinger slightly apart.

  ‘Just a little, eh?’ Toby whispered, taking the hint. He had forgotten it was taboo to discuss the fortunes of any claim on the open diggings.

  ‘Toby will be joining us for lunch,’ Frank explained to Paddy, earning another hearty back slap for Toby.

  A shout came echoing up the gully from the direction of the road.

  ‘Joe! Joe!’

  ‘Some poor cove has lost his mate,’ Toby said. ‘He’s been looking for him all around Bakery Hill.’

  Frank gave a mirthless laugh under his breath. ‘No one’s missing, Toby. I don’t suppose you happened to see some troopers about on the diggings as you rode over?’

  ‘As a matter of fact I did. Two big buggers were checking licences on the other side of the road.’

  ‘“Joe” is the diggers’ signal that troopers are out on a licence hunt. It’s a warning to everyone without a licence to stay out of sight.’

  ‘Licence hunt?’

  Frank fished about in his pockets, retrieved his pipe and knocked it out on a lump of quartz. ‘It’s a tactic the gold commissioner is implementing on the governor’s orders. Apparently, it’s happening on all the diggings in the colony. I got talking to a chap over at Blacky Pete’s the other day. He told me there was a riot on the Bendigo diggings when they started doing it there.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ Toby said. ‘Life on the diggings is pretty tough as it is. This kind of thing will only get people riled up.’

  ‘I’ll say. There’s talk of a meeting to discuss forming a delegation to meet with the governor and—’ Before Frank could finish, a voice called from the bend in the track.

  ‘You men! Stand where you are.’ Two troopers approached them with carbines unslung and bayonets fixed. They strode over with all the front of government officials going about their duty and pointed at Frank, singling him out as the leader of the trio.

  ‘Your licence, mate?’

  Frank slid his unlit pipe back into his pocket. ‘It’s in my jacket pocket hanging on the windlass handle.’

  ‘And where is that exactly?’ the second trooper snapped.

  ‘Exactly twenty feet behind me on the other side of this mullock heap.’

  ‘Don’t be smart. We don’t like smart-arses, do we, Davey?’

  ‘Well, you did ask for an exact location.’ Frank smiled benignly. ‘Shall I fetch it for you, Constable?’

  ‘Be quick about it. Stan will go with you to make sure you don’t do a runner.’

  Frank sauntered off around the mullock heap with the trooper, Stan, close behind. The other trooper turned to Toby.

  ‘You don’t look like a digger,’ he said, eyeing Toby’s clothing.

  ‘I work at the sawmill,’ Toby said. ‘I’m visiting my father-in-law and brother.’

  ‘Does your employer know you’re away from your place of work?’ The trooper eyed Toby suspiciously.

  ‘He gave us the day off,’ Toby snapped, starting to tire of the trooper’s bullying attitude.

  The trooper didn’t let up. ‘This horse? Yours or his?’ He jabbed the bayonet towards Moonlight’s flank.

  ‘Mine,’ Toby blurted, stepping protectively between Moonlight and the needle-sharp bayonet.

  ‘Got a receipt for him?’ The trooper smiled into Toby’s face. ‘I bet you don’t have one.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘So! Stolen, then. Perhaps I should seize him as stolen property.’

  ‘No!’ Toby was horrified at the thought of someone trying to take Moonlight away from him. ‘I don’t have a receipt because he was born on my parents’ property. If you don’t believe me you can ask Sergeant McTavish. He knows me. He was at our place when I had this horse – almost two years ago.’

  ‘You know McTavish?’ The trooper looked unconvinced, but his tone softened somewhat.

  At that moment Frank came strolling back along the track with his jacket slung over his shoulder, the licence in his hands and the other trooper close on his heels.

  ‘I’ll prove it to you,’ Toby told the trooper. ‘Frank, what was the name of that police sergeant at my wedding?’

  ‘You should know, Toby. He’s more your friend than mine.’ Then Frank noticed the way Toby stood protectively between the other trooper and Moonlight. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Just say the sergeant’s name please, Frank,’ Toby pleaded.

  ‘McTavish. Angus McTavish from Scotland who enjoys a drink more than anything.’ Frank’s eyes darted from Toby to the trooper, waiting for a sign that he had said the right thing.

  The trooper lowered his carbine and took a step back. ‘You know Sergeant McTavish?’

  ‘Like I said, he was at my wedding. Known him for years, and he knows that this horse is mine. He’ll vouch for me.’

  The trooper stepped towards Frank and snatched the licence out of his hands. ‘You may be able to prove the horse is yours, but it won’t help him any if this licence is out of date.’

  ‘I think you’ll find it’s all correct, my good fellow. All paid up to the end of the month.’ Frank wai
ted patiently while the trooper examined the licence. Unable to find any discrepancy, the constable shoved the licence towards Frank and shouldered his carbine.

  ‘C’mon, Stan.’

  The two troopers moved off among the mullock heaps without looking back. A minute later, cries of ‘Joe!’ began to echo from further along the gully, heralding the troopers’ progress.

  ‘Bloody Vandemonians,’ Frank spat. ‘Six months ago that pair would’ve been locked up in a penal colony in Van Demon’s Land. They get released and come here, straight into the government’s employ. What’s the gold commissioner thinking, hiring men like that?’

  ‘I guess they take who they can get,’ Toby offered, a protective hand on Moonlight.

  Frank shook his head as he carefully folded the licence and slipped it back into his pocket.

  ‘We still have an hour or so of work, Toby. Maree is washing dirt down at the creek, but the two girls are at the hut. We’ll see you back there at lunchtime.’

  Toby found Annie a hundred yards from the hut. She staggered along the track with an armload of firewood.

  ‘What are you doing carrying all that?’ he said, and swung from the saddle to relieve her of her burden.

  ‘It’s good to see you, too.’ Annie frowned at her husband, but welcomed the help. Her belly now protruded a hand’s span in front of her, and she waddled a little as she struggled up the incline. ‘We were running low on firewood and Betty is feeling too poorly to fetch it herself.’ Her voice carried a frosty tone, but she slipped her arm through Toby’s for support.

  Toby dumped the wood by the fire, took his wife in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. As the kiss progressed she melted her body against his until a cry from the hut forced the couple to separate.

  ‘Whew! That is so yucky. Will you two please stop?’ Betty stood in the doorway of the hut, a look of revulsion on her face.

  ‘Hello, Betty.’ Toby flashed his most charming smile at her and Betty rushed across for a hug of her own.

  ‘I thought you were supposed to be sick?’ Annie said when her sister had let go of her husband.

  ‘I feel better now. Honestly.’ Betty didn’t look at her sister as she grabbed Toby’s hand and led him to his old log seat. ‘Sit down, Toby, and I’ll make you some tea.’

  Toby sat, but made sure there was room for Annie beside him. He removed his jacket and folded it onto the log, then was forced to stand again and hold Annie’s arm so she could maintain balance while manoeuvring herself onto the improvised cushion.

  ‘How long before the baby comes?’

  Toby asked this question every time he visited. He knew the answer exactly, for he counted the days he was away, but to hear it spoken gave him a deep, paternal pleasure.

  Annie winced as she adjusted her weight on the log seat and rearranged her skirts about her legs. ‘A month now. Maybe a little less. Mama says that babies almost never come when you expect them.’

  ‘He’s an O’Rourke,’ Toby offered. ‘He has an inbred sense of punctuality.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. I don’t think I can stand it one day longer than I have to,’ Annie said, and burst into tears.

  ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

  ‘Is this all there is for us, Toby?’ she sobbed into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms about her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ He smoothed her hair against her head, holding her as tight as he dared.

  ‘Is this what life is going to be like for us?’ Annie gasped out the words between sobs. ‘You always working so far away from me? Visiting whenever you can, but always having to leave? I feel that we are stuck like this, Toby. We are never going to be able to leave this wretched place. Never.’

  Toby pushed her gently away from him and held her by the shoulders. He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘This is our best chance, sweetheart.’ He felt her body stiffen as she fought to stifle the next sob. ‘This is our best chance of making enough money to buy our place back. Then we will be together forever.’ He tried to smile then, to show her that everything would be all right.

  ‘But, what if we don’t, Toby? What if all the gold we ever find is barely enough to fill a tobacco tin? What are we going to do? Every day I see unlucky diggers on the Melbourne road with their heads hung low in defeat. I fear that will be us, leaving this place with our tails between our legs, severely beaten by this—’ – she waved a hand as she struggled to find the words she needed – ‘this hard land.’

  Toby didn’t know what to say. In his heart he believed Paddy and Frank would one day find a big deposit of gold. It was going to happen; it was just a matter of time. That was what he was doing working at the mill, buying them time to make that big discovery. But Annie knew this. To say the words to her again would just be repeating himself. She needed more. Annie needed to know that all their hardships, all the long days spent apart were all going to be for something. But he had nothing more to offer. He had only the hope he held in his heart that one day their plans would all fall into place, that they would be a family, living together in the little homestead at Bunyong Creek.

  Annie watched him expectantly, waiting for the answer that would dissolve her misery. Suddenly, she gave a little cry of pain and clasped her hands to her bulging belly.

  ‘What is it, Annie? What’s wrong?’ Toby felt a spear of panic thrusting into his innards. He was about to send Betty scurrying down the hillside in search of her mother, but Annie smiled and took his hand.

  ‘The baby!’ she said, all the worry and misery gone from her face. ‘The baby is kicking me.’

  She placed Toby’s hand over her stomach and pressed his fingers into her tight, yet yielding flesh. At first he felt nothing except the warmth of Annie’s body against the palm of his hand. Then, something thrust out against Toby’s outstretched fingers. The pressure continued, distorting Annie’s skin and skirt, moulding it to a shape Toby could feel with his fingers. There was the unmistakable curve of a little heel and the arch of a foot half the length of his ring finger. He could feel and count five tiny toes with the tip of his finger and laughed out loud, keeping his hand tight against his wife’s stomach and the tiny shape beneath, revelling in this first contact with his child.

  Just as suddenly as it began, the unborn child pulled its foot away and Toby was left with only the feel of Annie’s belly against his hand.

  ‘It does that all the time. Usually when I least expect it.’ Annie let her hand slip from Toby’s, but the smile remained on her face.

  ‘Let’s set a date,’ Toby said, his hand still on her belly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Annie let the smile slip from her face.

  ‘Let’s set a time limit,’ Toby expanded. ‘A date when we will stop what we are doing here in Ballarat and move on with our lives. Good or bad, we will know when the end is coming. We will have something to look forward to, either way.’

  ‘When?’ Annie frowned. ‘We have the baby to consider.’

  ‘I know,’ Toby said. ‘When the baby is here and is big enough and strong enough to travel.’

  ‘Where will we go?’

  ‘I don’t know. Home, I hope, but otherwise somewhere where we can be together. That’s what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘And Mama and Papa?’

  ‘If they want to. Betty and Paddy, too.’ He took a deep breath and held her at arm’s length. ‘I just want to give you something to hold onto, a hope that one day this will all be over and we will get on with our lives. Think about it. Talk it over with your ma and pa.’

  The smile came back to her face and Toby realised he had succeeded. ‘I will, Toby,’ she whispered. ‘As long as we are together. That’s all that matters.’

  Toby awoke to someone pounding furiously on the door.

  ‘Who the hell is that?’ Horrie mumbled from the other side of the hut they shared. ‘It’s still bloody dark outside.’

  Toby swung his feet to the floor and pulled on his
boots without bothering with socks. ‘I’ll see.’

  The knocking kept up until he opened the door. Paddy stood in the darkness. Behind him the eastern sky had just begun to pale. It took Toby a moment to realize his brother wore only a long coat over his nightshirt.

  ‘Bloody hell, Paddy. What are you doing here? Is everything all right at the camp?’

  Paddy cradled his arms and pretended to rock an infant.

  ‘My God! The baby’s here.’

  Paddy shook his head and pointed at his belly.

  ‘The baby’s coming?’

  Paddy nodded, grabbed Toby’s arm and pulled him towards the horse yard.

  ‘Hang on, Pad. I have to get dressed. And tell Jim.’

  ‘I heard,’ Jim’s voice growled from the direction of his hut. He appeared out of the darkness, his braces flapping about his legs. ‘Get a move on, lad. Babies don’t usually wait for errant fathers, you know.’

  ‘Thanks, Jim. I’ll get back as soon as I can.’

  Jim waved a dismissive hand. ‘Take a couple of days. We’ll manage without you.’

  Within three minutes Toby was dressed and had Moonlight saddled. The men lined up to wish him well. Horrie was the last to shake his hand.

  ‘Give Annie my best, mate. I hope she and the baby are well.’

  ‘Thanks, Horrie.’

  ‘And if it’s a boy you can name him after me,’ Horrie added as Toby turned Moonlight for the track and raked the horse’s flanks.

  Annie lay propped on her parents’ bed, several pillows behind her. She was the only one facing the door and smiled as Toby stepped into the hut. Perspiration dampened her dark hair which stuck to her face in dank wisps and curls. Frank held her left hand and Maree her right. Betty fussed about with the linen in a cradle waiting at the foot of the bed. Eileen Guinane poured water into a basin. Annie wore only a nightdress, also soaked in sweat. Her knees were raised and the hem of the dress had ridden up her thighs, but he had no thoughts for modesty as he rushed to the bedside.