Published: 25 Aug 2022

Bush track gives way to grassy paddocks where river red gums grew along the gentle banks of the Campaspe River as it joined with the greater waters of the Murray and its tributaries, the Lachlan, Murrumbidgee and further downstream the Darling. The countryside was undulating and pleasing to the eye, with the taller mountains of the Great Divide much further off to the east, still holding onto the last of the winter’s snow.

Eventually Benny paused at a gate, jumping down from the buggy he opens it, while Toby takes control and drives the buggy through.

“Did you enjoy your trip up on the train?” Veronica asked Dev as Benny closed the gate behind but instead of rejoining the buggy he runs ahead.

“I did, where is your farm Veronica?”

“Farm, we call them stations up here and you are on it, the homestead is not far now just beyond those trees.”

“How big is the property?”

“It is small in comparison to most in the district but four and a half thousand acres although more than enough for me to handle,” Veronica describes.

Once past the stand of trees the land opened onto a flat grassy space leading towards a modest homestead in comparison to Jolimont, standing like a grand old lady upon the land and surrounded by weeping willow trees. To one side was an orchard, while in the distance a forest of eucalyptus broke the otherwise flat line of the horizon.

The house had ornate iron colonnades along both of its two levels in Corinthian style, the upper verandah decorated with ironwork of obvious quality. The building was whitewashed stone and by its design would contain many rooms. To one side and at some distance were worker’s accommodation, equipment sheds and a number of holding pens, beyond were fields where sheep grazed in the last light of the day.

Benny was first to the house where he was met by two excited dogs that made fuss of him when calling them by name, Brutus the dog and Jenny the bitch.

“You got the dogs,” Toby simply says.

“Yes at expense but worth it,”

“What breed are they?” Dev questions not seeing such dogs on the streets of Melbourne.

“Kelpie – and I’ve named them in honor of the original dog and bitch. It is suggested they are descendent from the Scottish collie and a dingo native dog.”

“Handsome fellows I must admit,”

“Do you have a dog?” Veronica asks.

“No,” Dev continues no further being quite embarrassed to admit to his modest home where even a cat may feel confined.

“Let’s get you both settled and ready for dinner.” Veronica says as Benny takes control of the buggy, driving it towards the stables and harness shed.

“The usual room?” Toby suggests as they enter into the large hall while afternoon sun shines through the luminette above the entrance, sending long exaggerated shafts of light in blue and red across the polished floor. Inside the air is scented with cut flowers of wattle bloom and cedar floor polish. The house has a relaxing atmosphere and so quiet Dev could hear his own breathing.

“Yes the usual and Dev can have the adjoining if that is alright, I’ll let you show the way while I go and speak with cook – dinner will be at seven.”

Towards the end of a long passage Toby pauses, “this is my room and you the next.”

Dev hesitates.

“What appears to be the matter?”

“Shouldn’t I be using the men’s quarters?”

“You are here as my guest Dev,”

Still the lad hesitates.

“Yes, I will need you to help with the mustering of the sheep for shearing but as I said you are a guest and won’t be expected to do any more work than myself.”

“I’ve never had my own room before,” Dev admitted.

“Well there you go a first and maybe not your last – I’ll leave you to freshen up and I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.”

Dev enters and closes the door. It wasn’t a large room but well appointed. The bed an iron stand, spread with a patchwork quilt, the pillows were of Irish linen embroidered with lace. Dev dropped his bag to the polished floorboards and tried the bed. It is soft; he pushed at the matrices and smiled as the springs refused to squeak. There is a washstand beneath a laced curtained window. On the stand sits a jug of water, a bowl and a container of soap. Dev approached and smells the soap, its scent is floral. Neatly folded beside he finds a towel, soft to touch and as pristine as the rest of the room. By the door were a small chest of drawers and a mirrored tallboy for his clothes. Again he smiled realising he could put all he brought with him in one single drawer and still have room to spare.

Dev removes his boots and lies on the bed.

“Nice,” he says loudly, “mum would love this,”

‘Also there’s no Jack to throw me out of bed, or complain about the sheets,’ he smiles at such a thought.

Dev settled back on the bed and found it was so comfortable he had to fight off sleep.

Dev yawned while remembering what was spoken at the station.’

‘Is Dev what?’ he silently questions remembering Veronica’s words.

‘No unfortunately,’ he remembers Toby’s response.

Further thinking was interrupted by knocking at the door.

“Dinner in ten Dev,” Toby called.

“Right-o,” Dev answered.

As they walk to the dining room Toby speaks, “Benny has his meals with us,”

“Why do you say that Toby?”

“Some think it is below their dignity to eat with natives, even with those of mixed race.”

“I read in the journal of Governor Phillip during the first settlement, he had Bennelong dine with him at the official residence,” Dev quotes from flicking through some of the books he found in the Nevis library.

“True but they were different times,”

“I’m not like that,”

“I thought it best said before you reach the table but I should have known better of you. I apologize,”

“Not necessary I understand and I am more than happy to be invited to Benny’s table.”

Echuca was a large town that grew up around a river punt operated by Henry Hopwood, who realized the river, with all its twists and bends, was navigable for at least a thousand miles and as it entered the sea in the colony of South Australia it could become access to Adelaide and further. At first it was a hub for the southern goldfields bullock trade but as the alluvial gold ran out and the goldfields population depleted the trade in cattle decreased.

By the eighteen eighties Echuca became and inland port and second in all the colonies only to the Port of Melbourne, or Sydney depending on one’s view, with more than twelve hundred dockings each year. Echuca was also chosen as a rail hub, as it was the closest part of the river to Melbourne. It also became the gateway for exporting, as much of western New South Wales was closer to the south than to Sydney, although with the arrival of the railways the river trade decreased but many majestic paddle steamers could still be seen at the wharfs on any day.

After breakfast with the dew holding to the grass Dev began to explore. Toby had business to attend to with Veronica, as the shearing gang was expected at any time, with the sheds and accommodation needing arranging. It was a still morning and quiet without the usual sound of street, or the racket of arguing or children at play. Dev inhales deeply from the crisp morning air and softly says on its release, “I could get use to this.”

Off in the distance a lone rider approaches at speed but slows to give way to a small flock of sheep, the sheep protest loudly while parting like a white sea around his mount. Seeing Dev the rider changes direction and approaches. It is Benny.

“Good morning Benny,” Dev greets.

“A little cool this morning,” Benny says.

“It is nice, I like it,”

“Can you ride a horse?” Benny asks.

“No,”

“Then I will teach you,”

“I would like that,” Dev agrees – ‘I hope,” he thinks believing it’s a long way to fall.

Benny dismounts and walks with Dev towards the stables. He is a short lad and slender, his features more European than native as for having a white father. He has a happy face and mischievous dark eyes, “Where are you from?” he asks.

“Melbourne,” Dev simply answers.

“I’ve been to Melbourne, I don’t like it; too many white fella’,” the lad says with a pretence towards broken English.

“I can’t argue with you on that account.”

“How long are you staying?”

“A couple of weeks I should think, I’m here to help with the sheep.”

“Are you a shearer?” Benny asks.

Dev laughs; “no, until yesterday I had never seen a sheep before, only as mutton chops on my dinner plate.” As Dev gave answer he noticed Toby coming from the house.

“I’ll see you later – I have to brush and feed Bluey,” Benny says.

“Enjoying your walk?” Toby asks as Benny departs for the stables.

“Yes and Benny has offered to teach me to ride,”

“Then you should do so,”

“Why is his horse called Bluey?” Dev asks.

“Because it is red-roan in colour,”

“Huh?”

“It’s a country thing, if you have red hair they call you Bluey and don’t ask me why.”

“Benny isn’t very dark?”

“It is believed his father was a white man and his people put him out because of it. James found him when he was but a number of weeks old and took him in.”

“Did James approach his people?”

“He did but they simply ignored him, so the baby was adopted and called Benny Christmas Wilson.”

“Benny Christmas?” Dev laughed loudly.

“He was found on Christmas day in the reeds along the Campaspe River.”

“Moses,” Dev says.

“Christ and Moses rolled into one happy young fellow,” Toby says then as quickly becomes serious, “he’s a good kid and will do anything for you, so be sure to show him respect.”

“I would;” Dev protests.

“It is that most treat the natives worse than their animals.”

“I’m not like that Toby,”

“Anyway what I came over to tell you, the shearers arrive tomorrow so for the rest of the day could you entertain yourself.”

“No worries, I’m enjoying the adventure of it all.”

During the late morning Dev again met up with Benny who was playing with the kelpies on the front lawn. “Nice dogs,” Dev says.

“Yea but Jennie’s a bit of a bitch,” Benny laughs being a play on the word bitch.

“She appears friendly enough,”

“That’s not what she is supposed to be, dogs are for working sheep not games but I guess she is still young and can be trained but watch her she can be a little snappy.”

“How many sheep are there?” Dev asks.

“Dunno’ I’ve never counted them. Lots, three or four or five hundred I reckon, probably more but us black fellers’ can’t count past three,” Benny laughs as Dev frowns his ignorance. “It’s a joke; that is what you white fellers’ think, although they aren’t all for shearing, as some are for the butcher shop.”

“Do you shear them Benny,”

“Na, – want to go for a swim?”

“Where?”

“Across at the Murray it isn’t far.”

“When, now?”

“No I have my jobs first, later in the afternoon when it’s a little cooler.”

“Yes, why not, I would like that.”

Walking in the warm sunshine was invigorating and Dev had never felt so alive. It was as if he was seeing the world for the first time, a world without brick walls and cobbled streets. Being close to the first paddock containing a small flock of sheep, he thought he would see what walking among them was like. Surprising they accepted his presence without concern. Once satisfied he seated on a tree stump inside the fence line, listing to the distant cries of ravens in plaintive conversation as they circled in the thermals above the tall gums. Occasionally a passing cockatoo would cry out but even its harsh screech was pleasant to his ears.

‘Yes I could take to this lifestyle,’ he thinks.

‘Possibly I could find work up here.’

“Even work for Veronica.’

‘But what of mum, I couldn’t leave her without support.’

Dev brings to mind his past lifestyle, of his thievery, the pockets he had picked but in truth it was more for survival than habitual, he thinks of Jones and his selling of favors and the one time he had done so. It wasn’t troubling to his nature but sex of any kind should between two involved people not a tradable commodity. Would he do so with the right person? Once he would have said not but a deeper part of his nature was rising through his psychic and now he wasn’t as certain how he would answer such a question.

Dreaming came to end with a gentle tap to his shoulder.

Dev jumped and turned quickly to find Toby.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes much Toby, I was watching how quiet the sheep are.”

“Not so in Oxfordshire back in eighty-eight,” Toby says.

“Why and where is Oxfordshire?”

“England, it was said that for some strange reason during one calm night all the sheep in all the paddocks took fright at the same time and by morning hundreds had scampered from their pens.”

“Why did they do that?”

“Their plight was never discovered but it did make good reading, even for the Argus. I hope you aren’t bored,”

“Not at all and Benny suggested a swim this afternoon.”

“Then I think you should as we will be too busy come tomorrow, or the next.”

“Are the shearers arriving?”

“They are supposed to be here tomorrow but I’m not so sure and think it will be the next. If it is the next I’ll take you into town tomorrow and show you the sights.”

“I would like to see the wharf.”

“Then if possible tomorrow.”

During the late afternoon Dev was relaxing on the upstairs verandah when he noticed Benny coming from the stables and leading two horses, Benny paused in front of the house and calls up to the verandah.“Are you ready for that swim?”

Dev comes to the verandah rail, “yes why not,” he agreed and wondered why the lad was leading two mounts.

“Right then come on down,” Benny calls.

“Coming, why the two horses?”

“As I said I’ll teach you to ride.”

Dev froze at the railings.

“Are you afraid?” Benny asks and commences to laugh.

“A little, it’s a long way to fall off.”

“You won’t and Patch is as quiet as one those sheep, besides I’ll lead him for you.”

Dev comes down from the verandah, ‘I’m putting my trust in the hands of a kid,’ he thought, ‘I must be mazed.’

“Alright I’ll give it a go but how do I get up there?”

“I’ll help you but first,” Benny holds up three reins, “you direct patch with these, one if you want to turn left, the other to turn right.”

“What of the third?”

“Ah that will be the brake, I’ll be holding onto it so Patch doesn’t decide to trot off.”

“All too confusing,”

“Easy, if a fourteen year old black boy can do it, a sixteen year white boy should be an expert.”

“Eighteen if you don’t mind Benny,”

Benny ignores Dev’s correction and has him place a foot in the stirrup, his left hand at the saddle’s low pommel and with an upward shove to his arse from Benny,

– Dev is flat on his back on the ground.

“You are supposed to swing the other leg over the horse’s back.” Benny laughs.

“You didn’t say that!”

“I thought it would be obvious,”

“I think I’ll give it a miss,”

“No another try, you can do it.”

Another attempt, this time, even if ever so clumsy, it worked.

Laughter came from the verandah. It was Toby.

“You can laugh Toby, you’re not the one up here,” Dev complained.

“If you keep at it, I’ll go for a ride with you later in the week,” Toby offers as Benny took control of the third rein and leads away.

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

18,649 views