Published: 21 Jan 2021

By midday the sun was quite hot and the going slow. The wounded ewe could no longer keep up with the flock, so it was decided she would become dinner that night and believing they were but a short distance from Ballarat they would settle by some water where there was ample grass and allow the flock to recuperate from the long walk, before making their final approach.

Tom quickly became the Gofer, it was go for this, go for that at the boy’s bidding and he appeared to do so with enthusiasm, being most surprising considering the lad’s disposition from their encounter but a day earlier. Also he appeared not to be displaying mental scars from what was conceived to be a lifetime of maltreatment.

It was Chance who made the suggestion as they paused for their midday meal, looking directly into Tom’s eyes he smiled, “Can’t call you Tommy or Tom as that is your past,” he said. The lad remained quiet.

“Then what shall we call him?” Logan asked being willingly drawn into the conversation.

“Gofer,” Chance laughed.

“Gofer – What do you think of that Tom?” Logan asked.

“Gofer – I like it.” Truthfully the lad was more pleased for the kind attention he was receiving, that someone was willing to allow him to speak and suggest, instead of having the wind knocked out of him whenever the mood desired.

“Alright Gofer, have you yet any thoughts on your future?” Logan asked.

“I could stay with you and Chance.” There was much hope in the lad’s tone.

“That may not be possible, we have our ways and they may not suite your nature,” Logan answered.

“Oh,”

“We’ll talk more on it when we reach Ballarat, maybe we can find your father.” Logan suggested.

Tom kept to his silence.

“Don’t you wish to be reunited with your father?” Logan asked.

“He doesn’t want me.”

“Never mind all that for now, we’ll talk about it when we reach Ballarat, besides you are quickly becoming your own man and can decide for yourself.”

During the day Tom remained quiet, courteously answering any question offered but seldom offering any of his own. He was a polite lad, somewhat nervous and in need of some flesh on his growing body. He had good legs for walking and although his muscles were still developing, they were strong and could do as much as the boys. His ginger hair was long and stringy in need of a good wash and his deep blue eyes were sad, while appearing to be holding more secrets then a lad of his years should.

That evening it only took Chance to mention mealtime for the lad to quickly find a place to set the fire and gather wood. With the fire going he sat along side staring into the flames, now and then he would force an unconscious smile as a rare happy memory flashed across his thoughts.

“Are you going to slaughter a sheep?” Tom asked as he gathered more wood for their evening’s fire.

“It is too late now, will do so in the morning, I’m afraid it is rations only and not much at that.” Logan answered as he brought forth what they had left.

“The wind is picking up,” Chance mentioned while lifting his gaze into the trees as the foliage whipped about in angry motion. His thought was on widow-maker branches ready to fall but there appeared to be none above their campsite.

“Knock-em-down,” Logan mentioned.

“What is knock-em-down?” Tom asked.

“It is one of the natives six seasons and what they call this time of the year.”

“Banggerreng,” Chance offered translation.

“It’s from up north and a different time of the year but the name suits the present conditions,” Logan added.

“I don’t much like wind,” Tom complained as another gust crossed the campsite gathering leaves and dust in its passage, forcing him back from the fire while sending tongues of flame in his direction. He coughed loudly from the smoke.

Chance spat out some dust he happened to ingest, “bugger,” he cursed and commenced to cough.

“You should keep your mouth closed,” Logan advised.

“Funny fella’ I only opened it to speak.”

“Never mind it shouldn’t last long but give it a couple of days and the northerlies will set in for a while, then you will be complaining about the heat.”

“I don’t like wind,” Tom repeated.

“It’s nature’s broom.” Logan said.

“A clean sweep,” Chance laughed while removing the last of the dust from his lip. With the billy water to boil he tossed in a handful of tea leaves.

“Still don’t like it,” Tom once again gave protest in a quiet grumble.

“What are you enjoyments in life lad?” Logan asked.

“I never though much of it,”

“It’s about time you did so cast your imagination forward and reach out for it.”

“Maybe,” Tom’s voice fell away to but a whisper.

“No lad not maybe,” Logan sternly advised bringing Chance to comment.

“There is plenty of time for that, for now take it day by day and tomorrow will look after itself:”

Logan wished to advance the conversation further but withdrew, realising Chance was correct. It was easy for Logan he planned his future with regimental dexterity down to the finest point. Although in failure he was wise enough to change direction, as it had been with their wish to fossick for the elusive colour. At first the glint of success was strong but since leaving Geelong had dulled although he had not commented. In his mind he was already looking for alternatives.

With the meal over and the wind at peace it was time for bedding down. Logan made up their rest and set aside a blanket for Tom closer to the fire. Chance and Logan retired but for a short while as it would be taking turns in minding the flock.

“Will you be warm enough over there?” Chance called across the distance to where the lad had settled.

“Yes,”

“Then goodnight,”

The lad didn’t give answer.

“I’ll take first watch,” Chance offered.

“Righto,”

“What do you think?” Chance whispered close to Logan’s ear.

“Think about what,”

“The kid,”

“He’s sound enough but I don’t know how he will fare in a man’s world on his own.” Logan admitted.

“That is what I mean; we should take him on until he can find his way.”

“I don’t know, it will really challenge our sex life.” Logan gave a sigh as he was feeling amorous and couldn’t act upon it with the kid in hearing.

“It would be like being home and sneaking about,” Chance gave a giggle and reached for Logan’s crotch.

“I don’t think so the kid will hear,” they both laughed.

As they diverted from such thoughts, Tom rose from his rest by the fire. Dropping the blanket he stripped away his clothing and came naked to the boys.

“What do you think you are doing?” Logan demanded loudly.

The kid lowered his head.

“Tis’ what me da’ would want.”

“What!” Logan repeated.

“You can fuck me like me da’ did if you like.”

“What!” Logan bolted to his feet, “put your clothes back on, we need to talk about this.”

The lad slowly redressed and returned confused to sit despondently by the fire.

“You talk to him Chance; I’ll only do my block.”

“It’s not the kids fault.”

“I know that but what his old man has done has me boiling,” Logan hissed as Chance went to the lad.

“Did you father do that to you?” Chance asked

“Yes often, then after he would belt me, saying I was filthy.” The lad began to cry. Chance took him into his arms and rested his head on his chest.

“Settle lad, no one will do that to you again.”

The lad sunk into Chance’s cuddle and went silent.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chance softly asked.

“No,”

“Come with me, best you join us for the night, it will be warm and safer from your thoughts.”

Chance placed Tom on the outer with himself in the middle then pulled him close, placing his arm over Tom’s shoulder. “You alright,” Chance asked. He could feel the lad nod as he took hold of Chance’s arm to hold it closer. It was the first time he had ever been shown kindness and he was obviously craving for it.

Chance lay comforting Tom and fighting to keep awake, it was his first watch during the night but knew where they had positioned the flock they should be secure enough without actually being with them. With the wind gone it was a clear night and once Tom was asleep Chance arose and sat close by mesmerised by the full sky of stars. A happy thought, “I love the stars,” he said.

Thoughts drifted back to an incident at home some years earlier, it that had been with a young girl and was an uncle who did the abusing. Eventually she took her own life and the uncle denied his guilt, although it had been most obvious to all except her parents, who couldn’t believe their own family could be so brutal. He believed Tom would be strong enough of character to overcome his ordeal, especially now his father was gone.

Chance sat imprisoned by the darkness with his thoughts galloping. ‘How could someone do that to their own son?’ he questioned the silence but no response was forthcoming. With a deep breath he forced the thought away before it overpowered the tranquillity of the night.

Keeping an eye on a the constellation commonly known as the Southern Cross, Chance knew when it reached a certain point towards the horizon it would be Logan’s turn to guard the flock. It had been their clock back home when he helped on Elsie Downs during lambing season when the dingos were on the hunt. Noting it was past that time and he was still buzzing with Tom’s confession he decided to let Logan sleep through, besides during the night he had dozed on a number of occasions and didn’t feel the need.

The continuous babbling of creek water eventually soothed away Chance’s anger towards the lad’s father and strengthened his resolve in helping young Tom but it would need to be concurrent with Logan and as Logan had suggested having the lad around would certainly curtail any amorous behaviour, especially now Tom had admitted to the abuse from his father and probably others.

Chance released a private grin in thought.

‘Stop mothering me,’ he could hear Logan’s complaint strong in his head.

‘You mother everyone; you can’t be all things to all people.’

Even so Logan enjoy the attention and accepted Chance’s little ways, while feeling a warm flow of happiness when he was around. A simple glance from Chance would have Logan’s heart singing with joy but he would never say so, his words were in his actions, that he had inherited from his father and was equally strong in both young Hamish and Ned.

There was movement as the first morning rays set the tops of the eucalyptus trees ablaze with gold and red, “you didn’t wake me for my watch,” Logan’s voice came rough as Chance rekindled the fire.

“You needed your rest.”

Logan cast his eyes towards the mound under the covers close by, “he snores,”

“So do you,”

“Also you on the occasion,” Logan roughly laughed.

“Then we should start a choir of snorers.”

They both laughed as Logan went for water for their billy of tea. On his return the activity brought the lad into the new day. “Good morning,” he brightly chirped.

“You’re a happy little bugger,” Logan suggested as the billy came to boil, he sparingly added tea leaves, “we will have to replenish our supplies soon.”

“You should have wakened me to do the fire,” the lad protested.

“There will be other mornings,” Chance assured.

“Then I can travel with you?” Tom appeared most excited towards the suggestion as Chance glanced towards Logan for support.

“I guess so,” Logan agreed, “go wash the sleep from your face, breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Where are you from Tom?” Chance asked as the lad returned from the creek.

“Launceston,”

“Where is that?” Chance asked not being one for geography.

“Tasmania,”

Chance still appeared confused, believing it must be in some English colony towards the Americas or maybe close to India, he had heard of both.

“Van Diemen’s Land but its often called Tasmania down there,” Logan enlightened Chance’s curiosity.

“I know where Van Diemen’s Land is but not this Launceston. Why did you come to Victoria,” Chance asked.

“Da’ was in trouble with the law,” the words were spoken without hesitation or shame.

“Why was that?” Logan asked.

“Dunno’ but we had to leave quickly and found passage on a small coastal trader.”

“What about your mother?” Logan asked.

“I don’t remember her; she died when I was but a boy.”

Chance could clearly see the conversation was troubling the lad and moved it on towards their intentions to pan for gold.

“Were you heading for the goldfields?” Chance asked.

“Me da’ didn’t say, he did odd jobs where he could find work but met up with two Irishmen at a hotel in Meredith and they got drinking, I heard something about waylaying some rich saibhir and lift his gold.”

“Bushrangers!” Logan cut in.

“I thought so but the following night when we were camped near a creek not far from where you found me he buggered off.” Tom gave a confused sigh as if not knowing where his emotions were leading.

“Tis’ as well lad or like your father you would be heading for the rope.” Logan warned.

“I’m no thief,” Tom appeared deeply upset by the suggestion.

“No one is accusing you of such and no one chooses their family. I was saying it was fortunate your father left.” Logan rose to his feet and nodded towards the slight rise beyond the creek, “I think I’ll go take a look what’s ahead over that rise.”

“I’ll come with you,” Tom sprang to his feet.

“No you stay and help Chance tidy the camp.”

The walk to the rise was short and the climb gradual and soon Logan was beyond sight.

Tidying the camp was simple and took but a few minutes then Chance went to check on the sheep with the lad at his heels.

“Did you say you have turned sixteen?” Chance asked while noticing two sheep had strayed somewhat but were quickly brought back.

“Yes last month so da’ said.”

“What day,”

“I don’t know as me da’ only remembered the month, he said it was a bad time back then and he was boozed through most of it, as me ma’ had become sick,” Tom released a light sigh.

“You said you mother died when you were a boy?”

“Yes, she was always ailing and had a continuous cough; she died when I was five.”

“So you remember your mother?”

“Mostly the times when she was sick.”

“Do you love your father?”

“I want to love da’ but it is hard to love when you’re being beaten.”

“I find your situation difficult to comprehend Tom, my father was nothing but kind to us, my brother is somewhat ready with his fists but you soon get him controlled. As for Logan his father was more a friend than a father.”

“I would like that,” Tom lowered into the thoughts appearing to drift away from family conversation.

“Well lad what is – is and has to be endured. You’re away from it all now and as your father said you can be your own man. It should excite you,” Chance softly related as they noticed Logan returning from the rise and somewhat animated.

“It all frightens me,” Tom admitted with a sobering shudder.

“That will change I assure you – look Logan is returning and appears quite excited.”

Logan’s pace appeared to quicken as he returned and as he reached the creek Chance called, “what’s ahead?” Logan crossed the creek, his face beaming with delight, “well what did you see?” Chance repeated displaying a measure of impatience.

“There’s not a tree as far as the eye can see and in place is an ocean of tents, a tent city of thousands.”

“Ballarat?”

“No not Ballarat as such.”

“Then what?”

“Tent by tent; order amongst disorder and covering the land like winter’s snow.” Catching his breath Logan continued; “there are permanent structures as well but in the most tents following every creek and gully and in the distance you can see Ballarat but some walk away.”

“What now?” Chance asked.

“It will be interesting finding a place to dig or pan, as men are swarming like ants all across the land.

“Still I would like to try.”

“As do I; I’ll go for supplies and get a feeling for it all, maybe find somewhere to yard the sheep and find a patch of earth for us to dig or at least put up a tent,” Logan answered.

Tom interrupted, “I’ll come to,”

“I would rather go alone Tom, firstly let me get an understanding in what is to be found and I’ll need to know if there is a branch of the bank of New South Wales down there and become acquainted.”

Noticing the lad’s disappointment Chance spoke, “you stay here with me, have you ever killed and butchered a sheep?” Chance was referring to the wounded animal and that it wouldn’t last but another day.

“No,”

“Nor have I but seen it done many times,” Chance admitted.

“I’ll do the despatching before I go and you two can do the butchering.” Logan went for his pack.

“Will you shoot it?” Tom asked.

“No that would be a waste of shot.” Logan withdrew a large butchering knife from his pack.

“Oh,” Tom softly sighed.

“If this worries you Tom, go for a walk.”

The lad remained silent as Logan dragged the injured ewe from the flock to a place close by where he left the knife.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take that walk?” Logan repeated as he placed the ewe onto its back between his legs. The ewe even lacked strength to struggle.

Tom remained close by.

Placing the blade close to the ewe’s throat Logan hesitated and again spoke to Tom. “It is best for you to stand back,” he warned. Tom moved but half a pace while remaining intrigued with the procedure.

“Have you seen a sheep slaughtered this way before?” Logan asked.

“No,”

“It isn’t entertainment Tom,”

Although Chance had never despatched an animal himself he had seen the procedure many times and understood what Logan was inferring. The lad took another step but remained interested and much too close.

Logan took his blade and with one swift action cut the ewe’s throat, the ewe released one long terrifying bleat that turned into a gurgle, kicking about its legs as blood pumped out towards where the lad was standing, soaking the ground at his feet. Logan held the ewe firm until the kicking stoped.

Tom quickly turned from the sight and was physically sick.

“Go to him Chance while I finish up here, I did warn you kid,” Logan impatiently shook his head.

“Sorry but -,” Tom whined through a mouth loaded with vomit. Chance retrieved the water bag and came to Tom, “here let me wash it away then have some water. Take deep breaths.”

Soon the ewe was still and Logan moved it from the blood soaked ground. Stripping branches of leaves from nearby trees he placed the carcass upon them and immediately commenced the gutting.

“You alright now kid?” Logan asked as Tom sat at distance, his head lowered away from the blooded ground while Chance sympathetically massaged his shoulders.

The lad took a deep breath before answering, “yes but I just didn’t expect so much blood.”

“You are as white as Irish linen. Are you sure you are alright?”

“A little shaken that’s all.”

“Before your days are over you will be well and truly used to it, maybe even experience worse but let’s be hopeful that isn’t so,” Logan conveyed while cleaning the blood from his blade. He passed it to Chance, “would you do the butchering?” Chance agreed without a gentle nod.

“I’ll head into town and see what supplies I can find, Tom will you be up to helping Chance with the butchering?”

“Yes,”

“There is salt in one of the bags, so salt some and hang it.” Logan looked towards the rise and released a sight of trepidation, “is there anything you would like me to get?”

“Nothing in particular, don’t forget the tea and if there is any, some coffee.”

“Righto,” Logan cast an eye over to Tom, noting colour was returning to the lad’s face. He gave a smile while remember his first experience with the kill and in all honesty wasn’t so different, only his brother Hamish called him a girl and made him use the blade on the next occasion. Logan remembered he had closed his eyes as the blade bit and felt his stomach in his throat as the animal kicked and bleated causing him to release his hold, bringing Hamish to take control. With the ordeal over he went behind from view and was sick.

“Maybe buy some chocolate for Tom and could you afford him a new shirt?” Chance suggested.

“I suppose I could.”

“His is somewhat soaked with blood from beatings.”

“You’re getting to like the kid ay’?”

“More he needs someone to guide him.”

“Mother Wilcox strikes again,” Logan laughed.

“Get out with ya’.”

“Oh there is one thing, seeing the kid is tagging along with us for a while, I’m no celibate priest and every time I view your arse I get hard, so best you explain our position before he gets too attached. We don’t want him running around the camp screaming shirtlifter, do we?”

“That could be difficult as I’ve never had to divulge before,” Chance frowned and looked back towards where Tom was seated.

“Nor I, yet someone has to do so and he is more likely to accept it coming from you.” Logan gave a huff of humour, “with his father’s past treatment he is half way to understanding anyway, only difference with us it’s our choice.”

“I’ll give it ago but if it hasn’t been explained by the time you return don’t get cranky,” Chance agreed.

“Me get cranky? – never;” Logan laughed and commenced his journey across the rise and towards town.

On reaching the top of the rise Logan paused and waved. He called out something although too far away for Chance to hear, Logan repeated his call but it was lost in the whispering of tree branches and the voice of the creek. He gave a wave denoting forget it and was gone.

Tom quickly settled once the blood had gone from sight and helped Chance remove the fleece, when completed Chance rubbed the underhide with salt and hung it in a tree, “that will come in handy,” Chance said.

“What for?”

“A nice soft pillow for a start; and once there are enough fleeces then possibly a warm coat, maybe an overblanket for a bed, or sell them on, they should get a good price in this colonies winters.”

“Da’ once gave me a sheep skin coat,” Tom recollected as he ran his hand across the softness of the fleece.

“Where is it now?”

“Da’ sold it for grog money.”

“Do you drink grog?” Chance asked.

“No but once da’ got me drunk for the fun of it and I was very sick afterwards.”

“That was a little cruel to do to a young fellow.”

“Da’ and his mates thought it funny, then -.”

“Then what?” Chance asked.

“Nothing only I was sick and da’ laughed.” It was obvious the lad was having memories he would rather forget, so Chance asked no further.

While they butchered the carcass Chance noticed the lad had stoped his work and was curiously watching him.

“What’s wrong?” Chance asked.

“I was wondering,”

“Abut what?”

“How long have you known Logan?”

“All of my life why do you ask?”

“Is Logan your brother?” Tom’s question was obviously flawed as the look of the boys was as salt is to pepper and could never be considered brothers on any account.

“No our families were once in business together. Logan has two older brothers and I have a brother and a sister.”

“Oh,” Tom paused with his questioning and commenced to salt down the joints Chance had suggested.

“Have you brothers or sisters?” Chance asked.

“No I had a cousin but he died from something he caught from off the ships.”

“Cholera maybe,” Chance offered.

“That was it; Jim was my mother’s sister’s boy but I never met him, they lived further south on a farm near New Norfolk, her husband was once a convict on some island called Norfolk, that’s how the town got its name.”

“I haven’t heard of it but maybe Logan will know, as he is one for that sort of thing. Was your dad a convict?”

“Dunno’ he never spoke of his past.”

“We have almost finished here; help me hang the joints away from ants and anything else that passes by.”

The job completed but Tom remained in the mood for questions and appeared to be settling well from being abandoned by his father.

“Logan bosses you a lot.”

“Do you think he does, I’ve never thought so myself,” Chance answered.

Tom appeared in thought.

“Do you like Logan,” Chance asked.

“I do but he frightens me a little,”

“Don’t be, Logan has a heart of gold, he is somewhat serious that is all and works out his plan of action before making any decision.”

“I like you,”

“There lays a problem Tom,” Chance answered his tone lowering into concern.

“How so,”

“You are just coming out of a bad situation and will naturally become attached to anyone who shows you a little kindness.”

Chance took a deep breath believing it was as good a time as any to explain their situation.

“I don’t wish to bring it up but I must. Tom that what your father did to you, did you accept willingly?”

“I don’t understand,”

“When he placed his pizzle in you did you accept it willingly?” Chance could feel beads of sweat form on his brow as he spoke, his voice became shaken.

“I didn’t like the thrashings,” Tom quickly answered and twitched his shoulders as memory of maltreatment returned. Tom had not included his father’s penetration of his person in his answer, as while it happened at least the lad believed, if not totally defective, there had been a small degree of affection towards him.

Chance was now in very deep water and lost for explanation. For the moment he was once again a boy back home in Bridge Town and attending the Anglican school. It was the week he realised his emotions towards Logan and Logan had reciprocated positively. Roslyn Parker was the daughter of Henry Parker who had the general store and Chance’s confident. One afternoon on their way home from school he felt a strong urge to tell someone about his and Logan’s developing association, believing Roslyn would be favourably responsive.

Being only a short walk from school to home the two took the long way following the river. While seated on the bank close to the brewery hole and watching some naked aboriginal boys at play, Chance became overwhelmed with need to relate his feelings and admitted his love for Logan to Roslyn, she immediately became angered. Any boy that does that should have his thing cut off, she exclaimed strongly. I only meant he is my very best friend, Chance quickly recanted, fortunately for Chance, Roslyn accepted his explanation, while admitting her own love for Logan.

Such conversation never arose again with anyone and Chance had learnt a valuable lesson, being to survive in a heterosexual society some things are best left unspoken.

“I don’t know how to explain this Tom so please forgive me for my rough way but would you willingly accept another man to put his pizzle in you if you had choice?”

“I would out of necessity but I don’t really like it,” The lad answered with a bitter expression.

“If I was to say that Logan and I do things like that and willingly, what would you say?”

“Nothing,”

“Is that because you don’t know anything else,”

“I like girls,” Tom admitted freely and gave a smile and a twinkle of future expectation.

“So you are not upset by what Logan and I feel for each other.”

“No,”

“I only ask as Logan is concerned and if you are to travel with us, he has asked me to explain our situation,” Chance admitted as he took a deep breath but remained uncomfortable in sharing their secret with another and one almost a stranger.

“I think I knew so anyway,” Tom gave a grin and hung the remained of the meat.

“We will try not to do anything in front of you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse. Da’ would pass me around his drunken mates for grog money,” Tom admitted without a breath of embarrassment or shame.

“That wasn’t right for him to treat you that way and while you are with us it will not happen again.”

“I can stay with you?”

“If you wish to,”

“What about Logan, he didn’t appear too accept so.”

“It was Logan’s suggestion,” Chance could feel his anxiety lowering back to normal.

“I would like that.”

“If you do Tom, what I have just told you must remain between you, me and Logan. Is that understood?”

The lad gave a gentle nod.

“Then let’s finish up here before Logan returns.

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