Sydney – Port Jackson – Picture from Australia’s Heritage Magazine 1969

Published: 15 Jul 2019

It was time to leave. The previous day Hamish travelled to Parramatta and conveyed Elsie, the new wagon, her belongings and much need supplies back to the farm with him. Elsie had met Edward on a number of occasions but not Sam or Piers and was surprised there would be another to join the adventure but felt more secure with the addition of James as she approached that unknown future, yet with more exhilaration towards adventure than most women could muster, even as far as being the driver of the second wagon as it would be necessary for Edward and Hamish to do the droving.

By late morning both wagons were loaded and the party prepared for the first step towards what Edward promised to be a rich and fulfilling future.

“Right I guess this is it,” Edward spoke solemnly as he mounted and approached James in the first wagon, “are you happy driving alone?” he asked, his question more directed towards Elsie in the second wagon.

“I have driven carts before, Edward.”

Hamish mounted and came beside Elsie, he softly spoke and she responded with a gentle nod towards his question.

“I suppose we should be moving out,” Edward turned his attention towards Sam.

“I guess so,” Sam answered but young Piers was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Piers?” Edward enquired his eyes about in search of the lad.

“Gone bush, he didn’t wish to say goodbye.”

“Yes Sam it is hard but it isn’t really goodbye, we are only two to three days away.”

“Have you everything?” Sam asked as he fiddled with a rope holding down the canvas tarpaulin on Elsie’s wagon. There was no need to do so as Hamish’s eye for detail and art of placement, suggested it would take a cyclone to shift its load.

“I hope so as it’s a long way back if forgotten.”

“Righto off you go,”

“What about you Sam, have you thought further on joining us?”

“I am happy here.”

There was much hesitation. Edward dismounted and fiddled with the harness.

“Stop your stalling Edward,” Sam ordered.

“There is now a mail service of sorts between here and the Bathurst Plains, I’ll write you soon,” Edward promised as he remounted.

“Be sure you do,” Sam turned to Hamish, “that goes for you as well young man.” Hamish gave a slight nod being pleased the wide brim of his hat was hiding much of his emotion.

“Righto,” Edward said but remained steadfast, his gaze across Sam’s struggling crop, to the well appointed vegetable garden with concern for its wellbeing once they had gone.

“Edward, the sheep have started without you,” Sam pointed to the small flock as they snatched a feed along the creek road, now through the gate and heading west.

“Should be gone then, have another dozen to collect from the Claxton farm along the way.” Edward turned his mount’s head and with Hamish close fell in behind the sheep, turning in the saddle he was pleased to see both James and Elsie managing their wagons and appearing pleased to do so. He waved them out and with quick response they followed. As they turned towards the mountains, Piers came back from the paddock, he stood beside Sam. Edward waved to the lad but he did not respond.

“The young fella’ is somewhat upset,” Edward spoke to Hamish as they fell in behind the flock.

“As are we all but he is resilient and Sam will do well by him.” Hamish answered.

On reaching Emu Crossing it was dark and they made camp some distance from the small village. “Where are we?” Elsie enquired as Hamish helped her down and commenced to set their camp for the night. “This is the gateway to our future my love,” he cast a glance across to Edward as he and James set up their tent, “isn’t that so Edward?”

“That it is Hamish and I promise you Elsie, if that man of yours doesn’t treat you right, he will have me to answer to.”

Fresh in the morning with the mist still on the ground and the magpies warbling above their heads they once again set out, this time it was ever upwards towards the Blue Mountains and the escarpments. As they travelled there were many signs of civilization following the rough track but the further they travelled the less it became so, until there was only the road and the untouched rugged beauty of the mountains and quiet, except for a multitude of song birds.

Some distance beyond Emu Crossing they chanced upon a group of natives on a hunting expedition, one carried a dead kangaroo across his shoulders, another a rack of small lizards and a sand goanna, speared through the throat by a slender stick, hanging like Christmas decorations on a cord around his midriff.

Edward called and waved but they took little notice and soon disappeared into the thick undergrowth.

“I thought you spoke their language?” Hamish questioned bringing his mount closer.

“So did I but they can be like so, not knowing the rest of you may make them cautious.”

“Cautious I hope and not angry,” Hamish contemplated.

“Na, she’ll be jake, they were from Wardan-noorn’s lot and these days are quite friendly.”

“Jake?” Hamish questioned.

“Yes Hamish – it means alright.”

“Another of those new country words towards my collection.”

“Soon you will ‘ave a book full, you should write them down and send them to England to be placed in Samuel Johnson’s book of words.”

“What book is that?”

“Sam was telling me, the man had compiled a book of English words and since it expands with each passing year.”

“What doesn’t Sam know?”

“Do you know these savages?” James asked as the last of the travelling natives went from sight.

Edward fell back to answer. “Don’t call them savages James; yes I know some of them, the taller is named Minjarra but they aren’t usually this far west.”

“Then what are they if not savages? Back home people tell they have a taste for white flesh.”

“There are a lot of false beliefs about them. In general the natives are fine people and in their own way more civilized than we are.”

“But don’t they attack settlers?”

“Not usually without provocation,”

“Still,” James released a nervous uncertainty.

“You’ll see and there is one call Bahloo, a young fella’ he saved my life but that is a long story and not a pretty one.”

The second day found the travellers in the vicinity of the Katoomba Escarpment and close by where Edward had camped during the crossing.

“We will camp here for tonight and travel towards the Downings tomorrow; I wouldn’t want to try the next section close on dark.” Edward suggested while remembering the road travelled when he was with Macquarie’s expedition.

Once the tents were erected and the sun commenced to dip into the west Edward invited James and Elsie to view the Wentworth Falls also the majesty of the Three Sister monoliths. All enjoyed the splendour and vastness of the country as the sun dipped into the distant dividing range, setting the entire valley before to glow in red, pink and blue.

“What do you think of that Elsie?” Hamish gave her a gentle squeeze at the shoulders as she rested deeply into his side. She didn’t answer but her expression said more than words were capable.

With darkness it was a new world for James, bringing him to flinch at every sound that chanced from the scrub. What’s that he would frequently question, only to receive reassurance it was but a bandicoot scurrying through the undergrowth, or wallaby hotfooting it from some imaginary danger, there being nothing larger than poisonous spiders and snakes to concern with, while as long as one shook out their swag and bumped boots before pulling them on, the crawling type usually kept to their own territory.

“What of the wild dogs?” James asked, hearing a distant howl during a quiet moment in the night’s conversation. His childhood imagination being filled with stories of wolf packs in the Americas, even some parts of Europe and they were more than capable of taking on a man.

“The dingo is mostly a solitary animal so there isn’t any fear of a pack attack.” Hamish assured with pride for his developing bush knowledge.

“They will more worry the sheep, so we will need to keep watch during the nights.” Edward confirmed.

“Do you miss England?” Hamish asked of James to ease his concern, as the little band of settlers sat around their fire enjoying their evening meal.

“I don’t miss the poverty Hamish,” James quietly responded.

“There is much poverty here,” Elsie gave her woman’s touch to the conversation.

“True but for what I’ve notice, here one is allowed to rise above their poverty and makes something of it,” James gave contradiction.

“And that we may all agree with,” Hamish aspired.

“So what do you think of New South Wales?” Hamish directed to James while stoking more heat into the fire.

“I’ve been to Wales and it’s nothing like what I remember,” Edward gave gentle humour but allowed James to complete his conclusion.

“I have only been here a short time so it is difficult to answer, I like the freedom from class.” Nodding towards Edward he continued, “like Edward here rubbing shoulders with the Governor, the only time I could do that in London was when -,” realising the presence of Else, James refrained from relating his shame of prostitution, “well as I said, here anyone who puts their hand to work has the opportunity of bettering himself and that has to be good.”

Elsie appeared weary and was nodding away when Edward spoke to her, “what of your life in England Elsie; and it must be hard for you away from family, living with an uncivilised brute like Hamish?”

“Thank you for the compliment Edward,” Hamish scoffed.

“No really Elsie, what are your thoughts?”

“I knew what I wanted from the very moment I saw Hamish that afternoon he came to our house for the party, as for living rough it bothers me not but I am somewhat wary of the blacks.”

James again concurred.

“As I said, treat them right and they are fine.” Edward assured as Elsie whispered to Hamish her wish to retire.

Hamish helped Elsie to her feet, “goodnight my bed waits;” and with a cheeky knowing smile he lead the way to their tent, “Edward will you the first watch?”

“I will,”

“That leaves us,” James spoke and reached to place a gentle hand on Edward’s shoulder.

“It does are you tired?’ Edward asked.

“Not at all, there is so much going on my head is in a spin. I will watch with you,” James took a deep breath and leaned back, his gaze through the tall canopy of eucalyptus to a clear sky above. “There is a strange rugged beauty in this land,” he perceived, “and stars, I didn’t know there was so many.”

That night time passed quickly with memories of childhood, of friends and family and an uncertain future that lay ahead but they were young and failure was not in their vocabulary, eventually their recollections became interrupted as Hamish came to take his turn, “any problems?” he asked, while yawning and stretching high.

“It is as quiet as a church.”

“Then off you go and get some sleep.”

“Come on, I think we have some catching up to do,” Edward rose and beckoned James to follow.

“Remember that final meeting in your barn?” Edward asked.

“I do as if it was yesterday.”

“Do you recollect what we were discussing?”

“Not all, where is this leading?” James asked as he stripped to his underwear and bedded down beside Edward.

“We were going to try penetration but couldn’t agree who was to be penetrated,” Edward nervously recollected.

James laughed, “that’s right and I was about to oblige when Eugene caught us.”

“Were you?” Edward displayed surprise.

“More in truth, I was going to contemplate doing so.” James ameliorated.

“I don’t mind if you want to.” Edward coyly spoke.

“Ah, we are back at that instant, this time without Eugene coming like the devil over the top of the hay bales.”

“Not quite James, I think I am more prepared for you to take me than I was back in your barn.” Edward reached across the void of darkness and pulled James closer, “get them off,” he whispered. Moments later they were in naked embrace.

“Have you done it with anyone? James asked, his question coming from the many times he had for money, while trying to justify his actions with the need to survive and finding it most difficult to do so.

“I was forced and more than once.” Edward quietly answered.

“Oh,”

“It’s alright, I’m well over it but this is not the time to talk of such and I want not only to feel your body but I want feel you inside me.” Edward whispered in breathy words as he rested his head against that of James.

“I would like that,” James answered with a nervous giggle.

Mist lay about the ground as Hamish came from his tent and shook the ropes to Edward’s tent. “Not up yet, not like you Mr. Buckley.” Edward pocked his head out into the crisp morning air, “had a heavy night mate.”

“I can guess what you were carrying.”

“No really those flaming kookaburras they were up and laughing while it was still pitch black.”

“Don’t I know so, Elsie has started breakfast.”

“Morning Elsie,” Edward called across to the breakfast fire. The woman smiled, nodded and went about her work.

“Elsie doesn’t appear too happy,” Edward suggested.

“Shh, she has woman’s problems.” Hamish answered holding a finger up to his lips to warn against comment.

“Oh,” Edward turned to James as he dressed, “what about you James you didn’t run into such problems?”

“Not unless you didn’t advise me,” James was quickly learning how to handle Edward’s often cryptic dry banter. James finished dressing and joined Elsie at the fire. “The mist is thick,” he observed.

“It will soon burn away when the sun’s up.” Hamish suggested while Elsie served up ham, beans and damper.

“There is something about being in the bush that brings on an appetite.” James reasoned as he tucked into the fresh damper bread.

“It is Elsie’s cooking.” Hamish gave a gentle rub to Elsie’s back. She smiled and quietly accepted the compliment.

“Too true Hamish,” Edward concurred.

Later that day they were beyond the mountains and leading through undulating hills and sections of good pasture land. Some distance ahead Hamish pointed out a column of smoke that didn’t appear to be a bush fire.

“I don’t like the look of that.” The seat of the smoke was beyond a stand of peppermint gums and quite recent.

“Someone appears to be in trouble.” Hamish admitted and commenced to travel in the direction of the smoke. Edward followed.

Beyond the stand of trees they discovered a burnt field of grass and the smouldering remains of a hut. “Do you think the fire is natural or deliberately lit?”

“It is hard to say but it would have started down by that creek and burned up the slope, possibly it was bushfire,” Edward surmised.

“Or your friendly blacks.”

Searching around the vicinity of the burnt hut they failed to find any sign of life, or death but did find a fresh set of cart tracks leading away from the property. Satisfied they returned to the road.

“Burnt out hut most probably a bush fire,” Edward explained as they recommenced their journey. Hamish kept his thought of marauding blacks to himself so not to frighten Elsie but his doubts remained.

Some distance past the remains of the hut they sighted a strange hill crowned by huge boulders appearing like some Indian fort. “Evans’ Crown,” Edward said remembering the name marked on a copy of the surveyor’s map he had obtained while with Blaxland during his last visit to Sydney, “not far now, would anyone like to climb up to view the country? I reckon you could almost see China from up there.” Edward suggested with eyes cast towards the rocky summit.

“Huh,” Hamish mocked, remembering his first thoughts on arrival.

“Well at least some distance towards our selection,” Edward corrected.

“I think we should move along, as it will be dark before coming down and somehow I don’t think the lights of China will guide us.” Hamish suggested. Edward agreed as they moved out.

“Why would you say China?” James quizzically requested. He was not well schooled in world geography but had gleaned enough during passage to realise New Holland and New South Wales were but a different direction than that of china.

“Tis naught but a convict’s dream James.” Hamish answered without deliberating further.

That night camp was made beside a small creek with a sharp elbow giving a natural yarding for their small flock that appeared to appreciate rest from the long day’s droving. The boys again took turns in guarding as they had heard the howling of native dogs during the early evening and knew only too well how skilful the native dogs were at cutting an animal from the flock and bringing it down.

“Shouldn’t be far now?” Hamish quietly suggested while he and Edward sat in the weak moonlight on a slight rise beside their camp.

“Late tomorrow is my reckoning,” Edward said as James joined them.

“Where’s Elsie?” Hamish asked.

“She’s gone to bed,”

“Is she unwell?’

“No fine, only a touch of the sun,” James answered.

Edward pointed to the sky and giving Hamish a nudge spoke, “can you see that group of stars low down on the northern horizon?”

“The ones something like an upside down cross?”

“That’s them.”

“James also looked skyward but took some time to find the constellation in question, “ah yes I can see it,” he eventually admitted.

“It’s the Crux constellation,” Edward explained.

“How do you know that?” a disbelieving Hamish questioned.

“Sam told me and he said it is called the Southern Cross.”

“Again the wisdom of Sam, I’ve never noticed it before.” Hamish answered.

“I assure you it’s always been there.”

“Funny boy,”

“One day that will be the symbol of a new country,” Edward proudly predicted.

“I think you are getting a little ahead of yourself.” Hamish quashed at Edward’s dreaming.

“Its people like us, you and I, James and Elsie and a host of others moving out, dreaming of what could be and doing it. We are the nation builders and one day you mark my words.

James gave a soft chuckle, “Edward I never knew you to be romantic.”

“I guess I never had the chance before and back home one never had the time to look up.”

“No it’s always ruddy-well raining.” James mockingly confessed.

“More to point back home you need money to dream, the rest of us hadn’t the time and at night needed to sleep away the hard day’s work, to refresh for the same with the morning.” Hamish added and excused himself from the conversation.

“Hamish seems a little cynical.” James commented as Hamish went to look in on Elsie.

“It’s all front, he likes to speak negatively but thinks positively, you can learn a lot from Hamish, only you have to, as to say, read between the lines.”

“I’m a little embarrassed there.” James admitted.

“Why?”

“I never learned my letters,”

“Don’t be embarrassed nor had I until Sam taught me, he also taught Hamish and I think we are skilled enough to pass what we know on to you.”

“That sounded close, what was it?” James hushed as the howl of a native dog was heard off to their right but away from the flock.

“Native dog – dingo, best we stoke the fire and be seen moving about. They are solitary animals and spook easily.”

Hamish came from his tent, “did you hear that?”

“Somewhere out beyond that scrub to your right.” Edward perceived and commenced to hurl whatever was at hand in that direction. Another howl, this time at distance, “I think we have frightened it away but knowing their cunning, it will return.”

“I’m back to bed, call me when you want me to take the watch,” Hamish returned to his tent.

“What do you think of it all James?” Edward asked as they returned to their seating beneath a carpet of stars.

“About what?”

“Our reunion and your coming to New South Wales and our meeting almost before you left the boat. I still can’t believe it was so easy.”

“Finding you has fulfilled my dream,” James openly admitted, “I hated the voyage and I don’t mind saying so and there were times I didn’t think I would survive and storms, there was always storms.”

“Now that you are here, do you trust my judgement?” Edward appeared unsettled.

“What is bothering you Edward?”

“Only this has been my dream for a long time and I may have forced it on Hamish and you, then there is Elsie, have I the right to expect you all to follow?”

“What I have notice of Hamish he is well content with it all and by his word had long ago hitched his dream to yours. As for Elsie, she will follow Hamish anywhere and be happy to do so.”

“What of you James?” Edward’s words were solemn.

“Me, I guess I’m along for the ride but assure you I am loving it,” James paused, “no loving it isn’t the total, I think I am more than ready to settle into your dream as if it were my own.”

“You will promise if it becomes too much for you to say so?”

“I won’t promise Edward because it won’t happen, you are my life now and I guess always was.”

“Come here,” Edward dragged James into him and placed his arm around his shoulder, Christ James you don’t realise how much I missed you.”

By the evening of the following day they had reached the Macquarie River. Edward called for a stop.

“What’s up?” James asked as Edward dismounted, with Hamish joining him beside the road.

“That;” Edward replied, waving his hand across the pasture stretching endlessly beside the river. None spoke.

“Looks even better than I remember,” Hamish recollected.

“Are we there?” Elsie called from the second wagon.

“We sure are love,” Hamish pointed to a peg marker off to his right, “there is Edward’s marker, the river way down there is the northern boundary and that stubby hill the western, yes we are home.”

“How much is your land Edward?” James asked.

“Not mine James, ours. Yours, Hamish’s, Elsie’s and any little bubba she may have. It is the start of our empire riding on the sheep’s back.” Edward paused realising he was somewhat gilding the lily. “A thousand acres, a mile along the river and almost a mile from it,” he paused, “and like most do, once established we claim a little more before anyone else has chance to do so.”

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself Edward, we don’t even have anywhere to sleep for tonight as yet.” Elsie attempted to bring Edward back from his silver-lined cloud but Edward could vision it all, he could smell the freshly mown hay, hear the bleating of a multitude of sheep and the cursing of shearers in the wool shed. He could hear progress ringing in his ears so loudly he thought his head would burst.

“It’s all there before you, stretching from the river to those hills,” Edward excitedly pointed to a line of low hills to the south. “We’ll build two huts, no two grand houses, one for you and Hamish and one for me and James and you can have first pick of a prime position, anywhere that takes your fancy.”

Elsie climbed down from the wagon and stood with them at the road side, “do you mean that Edward?”

“Yes Elsie your choice, anywhere you wish.”

“It will have to be away from the river,” she suggested, remembering the recent flood that had taken her parents house. All agreed. She looked about and pointed to a flat section of land beside a large stand of wattle. “They will look beautiful in the spring.”

“So you shall have it, I think I would rather that spot further along towards the river near the stand of yellow box trees,” Edward turned to James, “but only if you agree.”

James gently laughed and shook his head, “I’ll agree to your better judgement.”

Elsie took a leisurely stroll to the group of wattle trees and stood for some time, her vision back along the line of the river and to what appeared to be occupation some distance along the far bank. She returned. “Do we have neighbours?” she curiously asked.

“That is the smoke from a native camp,” Edward casually answered while surveying the lay of their selection and imagining where to place fences and out buildings, not noticing Elsie’s quiet shudder, or how she moved closer into the side of Hamish but it was noticed by James and he forwarded her thought.

“Are they friendly?” James questioned; his voice low and inquisitive.

“More to point are we friendly. As I’ve said, treat them with respect and I am sure they will be fine.”

“Is it showing respect to arrive and establish claim on their territory?” James continued his line of disquiet.

“Point taken James but they are nomadic and from my last journey I came to the understanding they were mostly further west from here.”

“You actually met with them?”

“Once, but with an associated group.”

“You got all that from a few minutes of broken conversation did you?” Hamish asked, remembering his friend’s approach to the natives while they travelled with Macquarie.

Edward gave no answer; he had none as his understanding of the natives had become confused with his dream. Had he misread the natives, or was he building trust and conception on what he knew of those around Sydney, where they had had almost thirty years of discrimination against them, had been poisoned, shot at, subjected to foreign infections, introduced to alcohol. Here across the mountains there had been little contact with the invader and they may act accordingly.

The following day there was movement along the road from the south east with much dust kicked up by the hooves of driven animals. Soon it was discovered to be a party of selectors with intention to take up land for cattle but further along the road and past the Macquarie River.

On observing the small flock of Edward’s sheep the lead drover approached.

“Henry Parsons I be from the Liverpool plains,” the man spoke while bring his mount close to where Hamish was working on erecting the first holding yards.

“Hamish McGregor,” Hamish quietly answered as the man leant forward to relieve the ache in his back from the long day in the saddle.

“Sheep,” the man simply implied, his face pulled long at the sight.

“Wool is king,” Hamish repeated Edward’s thoughts.

“Maybe so Mr. McGregor but man can’t eat wool.”

“True, where is your destination?”

“I’ve chosen a selection some distance north across the river out Raglan way.”

“There is a black’s camp along the far bank,” Hamish offered as a respectful warning hopeful it would encourage Parsons and his cattle to continue their journey quickly.

“Blacks won’t bother me.” As he spoke the first of his small herd commenced to cross the river, “I guess I should get this lot going but sheep and cattle don’t mix.”

“There is a river to partition them Mr. Parsons.”

“True, so keep it that way,” Parsons gave a nod, mumbled emancipist and spurred his mount back to his mob of cattle.

“What was that all about?” Edward arriving late enquired.

“Henry Parsons and he don’t like sheep,” Hamish sarcastically answered.

“I guess there is a river between, Edward related Hamish’s quip.”

“I told him so and he doesn’t like emancipists either,” Hamish admitted.

“Fussy man,”

“Why don’t cattle and sheep mix?” Hamish enquired.

“Some say it’s to do with the eating of the grass, sheep are supposed to crop closer to the roots and destroy the pasture.”

“Is that true?”

“Couldn’t say, wherever I see sheep, I still see pasture,” Edward concluded.

As the cattle crossed the small bridge Edward counted the drovers, concluding there was at least eight, mostly on foot, followed by three large wagons of supplies, each containing two servants.

“He doesn’t think much of the blacks either,” Hamish continued.

“Now that does concern, he may stir them into reprisal and that is something we can all do without.”

During the afternoon and sometime after the cattle had crossed to the north, a group of natives was observed along the river bank and appeared to be interested in what was progressing. Now and then one would point towards the small flock of sheep while others meandered along the bank to obtain a better perception of the newcomers.

“Do you think they will attack?” James asked while they stood in a tight group on the opposite bank to the natives, the space between being shouting distance but no one shouted.

“Can they swim?” James continued.

“I guess so but at this time of the year the current is swift.”

“They could use the bridge.” James remained concerned.

“They could, I tell you what I’ll try talking to them tomorrow.” Yet Edward’s suggestion didn’t encourage towards their wellbeing.

That night while walking alone along the river bank, Edward felt somewhat anxious, believing it possible he had not paid enough attention to the safety of his friends. His earlier words reverberated in his head, possibly it would not be as simple as he had envisaged and Hamish’s was correct, these natives had had little exposure to the white invaders and were not the same as those around Sydney and Parramatta, possibly they may retaliate.

On reaching the opposing bank in line with the native camp Edward sat and watched for activity. There was the usual gathering around the camp fire, the soft singing of timelines and children bickering as they tired, even laughter, concluding humour was the bind between all peoples. If these so called savages could understand the humorous side of life than they would be little different than he and surely would be welcoming. As quickly as the prognoses arrive he realised he was being somewhat naïve. Taking a deep breath he passed over his simplistic view of their situation.

Edward attempted to ascertain their number, the head count was no more than twenty but by the number of humpies there would have to be more that thirty, forty at the most. That he considered to be a substantial camp, especially if push came to shove as only he and Hamish had muskets.

On the occasion one of the natives would come to their side of the bank and peer across the water at Edward’s silhouetted outline without acknowledging his presence. He did think of waving or calling out but thought better of doing so. Eventually no one came at all and Edward returned to the others.

With the morning Edward decided to wait a while before approaching the natives, believing it may be wise to let them realise he wasn’t moving on and hadn’t any animosity towards them before showing neighbourly amity.

Two days had passed and it was perceived that the cattle had not yet travelled past the river as Henry Parsons had suggested. During the afternoon Parsons crossed the bridge approaching Edward while he and Hamish busied felling trees.

“Good afternoon Mr. Parsons,” Edward greeted, introducing himself as he had not met with the man on the previous occasion.

“Had trouble with the blacks last night,” Parsons expressed, displaying a high level of intolerance, “they killed one of my bullocks.”

“The natives don’t understand ownership Mr. Parsons,” Edward attempted to explain.

“Then someone should teach them,” the man growled.

“Treat them well and they will come around.”

“They should be hunted down,” It was obvious Parsons’ mood wasn’t for understanding the native’s ways and was intent on retaliation, “will you join with me?”

“Doing what Mr Parsons?”

“You don’t need imagination son.”

“We have a woman here, besides the natives haven’t shown us any displeasure Mr. Parsons,” Edward answered, not wishing to be part of whatever the cattleman had in mind.

“Very well but if you are all attacked in your beds, don’t come running to me for protection.” Parsons turned his mount and hurried back to his side of the river.

“That man’s attitude will endanger us all,” Edward sighed and returned to his work.

“I wouldn’t concern he said he was leaving soon.” Hamish spoke as James approached.

“What’s his bother?” James asked.

“Natives killed one of his bullocks and he’s out for retribution.”

“Isn’t that like pocking a stick into a wasp’s nest?”

“It is but I don’t think he is in the listening mood.”

“Did he suggest what he is likely to do?” James asked.

“No he was more putout because I didn’t offer to help.”

During the late afternoon all appeared settled across the river with the cattlemen without obvious signs of retaliation. Occasionally laughter would drift on the breeze from their camp, while their cattle seemed contented to feed on the grass by the river or wander down towards its gently sloping bank for water.

At the native camp there was some activity as if gathering their belongings and preparing to move on. Edward gave a sigh of relief believing his approach would therefore not be necessary, besides if they did move on there wouldn’t be retaliation from the cattle men. Hamish joined Edward at the water’s edge.

“They look busy?” Hamish spoke of the natives.

“Possibly they are moving out.”

“Or preparing to give us some bother.”

“I doubt it, not with the cattle men close by, besides they don’t usually travel in the heat of the afternoon, if they are travelling it will be with the cool of tomorrow morning.”

“That makes sense but won’t they be back?”

“It depends on the seasons and what tucker is available, sometimes it is a full year before they return, even longer in he bad seasons.”

From an English prison colony to one of the Great Nations of today. This how it started. Let Gary know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net.

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