Published: 22 Jan 2018

It came to prove Toby was quite adept at horsemanship, surprising in a lad who had spent most of his life at sea and as Lachlan led both Toby and their pack horse away from the big house he felt a bond forming between them. A union of two spirits he knew would endure and he was content.

Before departing the farm William chanced upon them as passed through the gate. Lachlan paused until his brother joined them.

“Didn’t Daniel give you my message?” He asked gruffly, his eyes fixed on Toby.

“He did,”

“Did he say I have a job for you before you leave?”

“He did.”

“So why are you leaving before seeing what I wished you to attend to?”

“I am sure it can wait, or Daniel can do it.” Lachlan encouraged his mount to move away from William’s presence, indicating he was leaving regardless what William would say.

“One of these days you will learn to respect my position.” William’s annoy was rising yet he realised there was little more he could do against his wayward brother.

“I’ll see you Sunday afternoon, maybe Monday morning William.” Lachlan quietly advised and clicked him mount into motion.

“Don’t forget it’s the family gathering.” William reminded, allowing Lachlan to depart without further obstruction.

“Then it will be Sunday afternoon.” Lachlan indicated.

“What was that about?” Toby asked once at distance from William.

“William is frustrated as he’s been given the position of farm manager, without the power to dismiss anyone. I guess something akin to a mongrel guard dog without teeth.” Lachlan turned to investigate Toby’s comfort noticing he appeared to be squirming in his saddle, “how’s the riding?” He asked.

“A little strange but I’m growing accustomed to it.”

“I guess I should have given you a camel?” Lachlan suggested as they passed the Henderson farm on the way to his horse paddocks.

“Why a camel Lockie?” Toby answered somewhat bemused.

“They do call the camel the ship of the dessert, so I thought it may give you a more familiar ride.”

“One hump or two?” Toby entered into his friend’s muse.

“Two I guess and you could sit between the humps.”

“I’ve never even seen a camel, except in picture books.” Toby admitted.

“Nor have I but I believe if you travel far enough to the west, you will find lots of them running wild.”

“I thought they were from somewhere called Arabia?” Toby perceived.

“I guess they are but I read in the Cairns Post many were brought over to be used on the overland telegraph line to Darwin and went wild.”

“I hope they don’t bring in tigers.” Toby gave a shudder.

“Or lions,” Lachlan added to the consideration.

Again Lachlan thought of Stephen and his venture. Smiling he rode on promising he would soon visit his friend, even considering disobeying his father’s wishes and taking up Stephen’s suggestion to join in the venture but each time such a thought occurred all he could envisage was his father’s enraged disposition as he proclaimed banishment.

A short distance from the farm and upon a slight rise, a black man stood carrying hunting weapons. Toby’s reactions took him back to Cooktown and fear grabbed at his throat.

“Easy Toby, that’s only Mowan out hunting.” Lachlan advised as he waved to the native who slowly approached.

“You know him?” Toby nervously enquired.

“Sure he is from the local group, I almost grew up with them and one of my best friends is Yarran one of his family.”

“He looks savage, especially with those spears.” Toby gave a shudder.

“They are hunting spears.”

“What’s the diff?”

“Quite some, battle spears are more jagged but don’t be fooled by appearance either can take you out in an instant.”

“That I have encountered at first hand.” Toby acknowledged, referring to the demise of his captain and Jenkins.

Toby remained somewhat uneasy as they rode to meet the black man. Mowan offered his hand to Lachlan while laughing at his action.

Lachlan accepted the gesture. “Hunting good Mowan?” He asked in the native’s own language.

“Not much Kari you bloody white fellers gone and shot everything.” Mowan answered in broken English. “Where you two off too eh?” The man added.

“To check on my horses – Sorry Mowan this is a friend of mine Toby.” Lachlan added as he handed Mowan a parcel of tea and sugar and a small container of tobacco he stole from his father’s supply.

“Oby.” Mowan attempted to mimic. Toby nodded as his mount stepped nervously away from the closeness of Mowan’s hunting spear.

“Youze be careful eh young Kari, them black buggers from over the hills have been this way of late and they look pretty mad eh?” Mowan warned.

“Not travelling that far Mowan. Must be going though, see you all soon, tell Bardo I have some tobacco for him when I return.”

Toby may have calmed to Mowan presence but now he had an added concern, being the so called black buggers from over the hills, until Lachlan assured him Mowan was always warning against the western lot and they never came closer than the jump-over.

“What’s the jump-over?” Toby asked.

“It’s the lowest part of the range the best part of a day’s ride west of here, it isn’t high or rugged but does act as barrier between the coastal and the inland natives.” Lachlan explained. “You seem a little nervous?” He suggest as they rode away leaving Mowan to continue with his hunting.

“Yea you can’t rightly blame me; firstly it was those poor island buggers Mr. Simpson dumped north of Cooktown, then the attack we endured.”

“Why did you captain dump the islanders where he did?” Lachlan asked.

“I guess he thought black was black, besides he never did understand native or island culture. Nor do I, I guess.”

“Well I suppose he did it with the best intentions.”

“I wouldn’t actually say that, although I dearly loved the captain, he did have a lazy streak and found doing so was the easy way out of an otherwise difficult situation.”

“It’s done now and can’t be undone.” Lachlan determined while wishing he had been on that trip as he may have been capable in dissuade Simpson from such a foolish action.

It was true the western natives could occasionally become somewhat aggressive but nothing that couldn’t be controlled. Mowan’s warning came mostly from almost forgotten memories, when the two tribes were bitter enemies but with the European arrival a wedge had been driven between the groups and contact was in general lost.

“Why did Mowan laugh when you two shook hands?” Toby asked as they rode on.

Lachlan smiled, “It isn’t their custom to do so and our ways humour them, they do it more to tease than greet us.”

“You don’t mind being at the end of their game?”

“Not at all, I love their humour and it’s never really hurtful, mostly only gamin.”

“There is something I have grown to like about you Lockie.” Toby freely admitted.

“And what would that be?”

“Your easy way of accepting everything put before you, your carefree manner, I guess and rebellious attitude.” Toby answered sincerely.

“Me? Carefree? You should live in my head; it’s not so carefree in there”

“It’s the way I see you. What about rebellious?” Toby answered.

“More to point Toby, I have learnt how far I can push an issue and who with nothing more and if not I keep my trap shut.”

“Whatever you call it, I like your attitude.”

“And I like your face.” Lachlan made light.

“You have to my friend; it’s the only one I have.” Toby laughed and brought his mount up to ride by Lachlan’s side.

It took most of the morning and into the afternoon before they reached Crystal Springs. Behind the springs there was a narrow valley of a good two miles long by half a mile wide. The small valley was enclosed on three sides by steep cliffs and had a narrow entrance from where a small stream ran from the spring at the top of the valley.

The land was part of the McBride estate and Lachlan had fenced the entrance to create a holding paddock. Being well watered and lacking in jungle there was always sufficient fodder for a good many head of horses, which meant they could be left for long periods without attention.

Lachlan’s major worry was duffing, although the area was distant from any settlements, there was always someone sniffing around for a chance, even with the local natives keeping lookout for him.

Traditionally the land was Gulngai and although Crystal Springs was part of their initiation area they seldom travelled there and didn’t mind Lachlan using it for his horses. Besides unknown to his father, Lachlan paid the Gulngai with occasional supplies for its use.

Some years previously Jock McBride had chanced to extract some worth out of the springs but found the soil too poor to grow cane. It was his intention to run cattle but decided to do so closer to the home farm where he could keep a close eye on proceedings and after loosing a good many bullocks to duffing, put aside his plans of using the land at the springs.

During his early years McBride had built a rudimentary shack, which although somewhat neglected still sufficed as shelter and once the bush rats had been evicted and a large carpet snake removed from the rafters, it became quite suitable for the boys visit.

Once supplies had been stored in as old and rusting Coolgardie safe, hanging from the rafters and their swags dumped on the makeshift beds, they gathered firewood before the daylight was lost.

It was apparent there had been a flood of water through the springs since Lachlan’s last visit but fortunately it had not reached high enough to damage the hut but had taken away the beginnings of a stock yard he had been constructing, also the fire wood, being stacked some distance from the hut, not to encourage snakes to shelter close to the hut.

“Did you build the hut?” Toby asked while helping to gather the last of the fire wood.

“No my father did some years back, he was going to grow cane here as there is permanent water but the soil isn’t suitable.”

“It looks alright to me.” Toby commented while collecting a hand full of the red dust, allowing it to fall once more through his fingers.

“Looks are deceiving; sometimes you don’t know its value until you try a crop in the ground.”

“There are plenty of trees growing around and as large as anywhere.”

“Most of the local trees need poor soil, you fertilize and it will kill them.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a farmer.” Toby admitted.

“And I wouldn’t make a sailor.”

On hearing human voices the more inquisitive of the horses came to the post and paling fence to investigate but once satisfied they bolted back into the valley. Among the small inquisitive group Lachlan noticed at least three foals which were almost old enough to be weaned and ready to wear his brand.

“Do you know how to use a branding iron?” Lachlan asked. Toby admitted he did not but had seen it performed in past years.

“Looks as if there are a few to brand.”

“Is it painful for the animal?”

“Suppose it is for a moment but no worse than having its nuts cut out.”

“We human’s really know how to treat animals?” Toby showed his soft undercarriage.

“True but sometimes,” Lachlan paused and laughed.

“Sometimes what?”

“I was going to say sometimes you need to be cruel to be kind, but now I think of it; what’s kind in having some bloke cut your nuts out.”

“What’s your mark?” Toby enquired. Lachlan pointed to the rear quarters of his mount as it stood in the holding yard beside the hut, swatting at sweat flies with its tail as they swarmed across its rump. The brand was the letter R in a circle, with a bar through the circle.

“Why did you use the letter R?” Toby asked bringing a broad smile to Lachlan’s face.

“The R is for runt of course and the bar stands for no longer the Runt.”

“That is what I call a statement.” Toby laughed.

Hearing Lachlan’s voice a number of horses returned to the fence line. Lachlan approached with Toby at distance behind. As Toby closed in on the group they moved further back into the paddock. “They can tell strangers.” Lachlan explained.

“How do you tell which is a good horse?” Toby asked as his site fixed on a playful skewbald at the back of the group.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“What it is to be used for, you pick out one you like.” Lachlan suggested.

Toby immediately pointed out the skewbald, “the patched brown and white one.” He suggested.

“The skewbald and why did you pick that one?”

“I guess it’s the prettiest, why call it a skewbald.”

“By its markings, black and white is usually called a piebald, brown and white a skewbald but you definitely don’t know horse flesh.”

“True I don’t but why?”

“I mostly breed pack horses, so you need staying ability and strength along with sure-footedness, the one you chose would only be good for a child’s pony. I wouldn’t even use it as a riding mount and definitely not for working stock, if you were to gallop that one up a rocky incline and it would surly brake a leg.”

“Well I guess that’s put me in my place.” Toby admitted.

“Not at all when it comes to boats I wouldn’t know one rope from any other, or what side of a ship is what,” Lachlan paused, “I guess I know that but little more.”

“Who does the breaking?” Toby asked.

“That depends, mostly I sell them unbroken and the buyer can break them for carrying or riding, sometime pulling a plough or a cart. As for my breaking, some say the best way to subdue a horse is to put it to pasture with a tame one.” Lachlan grinned; “they say it also works with people.”

“Do you find it works?”

“It never did with father.”

That night was dark and overcast while outside the hut the blackness filled with noise as the forest came alive. Somewhere in the hills beyond the spring the sound of howling was heard, followed by what appeared to be the screaming of a woman. Toby flinched.

“You appear nervous?” Lachlan perceived as they sat by the hearth and finished their evening meal.

“I thought I heard someone calling for help.”

“That was a Barking, or Screaming Woman Owl.” Lachlan explained as a second mournful howl was heard but in a lower tone.

“Was that another Owl?” Toby asked.

“No that was a Dingo; there are a lot of them around these parts.”

“Don’t they worry the horses?”

“If they have the chance they go the foals but the mares can usually keep them away, besides they don’t hunt in packs, so a single Dingo is no match for a mob of horses, or in most cases even a lone horse.”

“How do you know the difference between the call of a domestic dog and a dingo?”

“Dingos don’t bark but what you need to watch is when stray domestic dog breeds with the dingos.”

“Why’s that?”

“The buggers aren’t frightened of anything and they will even attack people if in the mood. When they breed with Alsatians or German Shepherds they are not only mean but big buggers as well and when the domestic dog breeds with the dingo, they do hunt in packs.”

“What’s the difference between an Alsatian and a German Shepherd?” Toby asked, believing they were the same animal.

“None, if it’s a placid family pet it’s a German Shepherd; if it goes for your throat its an Alsatian, or that’s what a lot of folk seem to think.” Lachlan answered somewhat ironically.

For some time all was quiet, then a shuffling about the hut door.

“Bandicoots,” Lachlan explained, “or maybe a brave dingo, they sometimes come around the hut at night, especially when I’m here as they look for scraps but I wait until I go and leave what’s left a good distance from the hut.”

“I think I would rather be at sea, at least there you don’t have to worry until you’re in the water.” Toby softly admitted as once again the dingo howl was heard, this time it appeared to be closer.

“You miss Mr Simpson.” Lachlan asked during a lull in conversation.

“I knew him all my life, he was my only family.” Toby answered cautiously.

“How old was Mr. Simpson?”

“Thirty something but looked much older; I guess it’s the sea air, the salt sort of tans the skin.”

“I suppose he became your father?”

“No his sister became my mother but Lenny was.” Toby didn’t finish his sentence. Instead he supplied a question of his own. “Do you have a girl friend?” He asked inquisitively while searching Lachlan’s expression as he responded.

“No I haven’t had the time or chance but there was one when I was at school but she’s married now.” Lachlan declared.

“Nor have I, I wonder what it would be like?”

“What to have a girl friend?” Lachlan asked.

“No to – you know.” Toby couldn’t commit himself to the word.

“Fuck?” Lachlan asked incidentally.

“That’s a little blunt but I guess that is what I mean.”

“I don’t rightly know I suppose it’s like – well tugging except not as rough.” Lachlan gave a simile then regretted so, believing his allegory to be somewhat familiar. Surprisingly Toby was more interested than offended.

“So you’ve never been in love?” Toby suggested giving a cheeky grin that took away Lachlan’s mounting embarrassment.

“Dunno, I love my mother, I like my sisters but I don’t like my brothers all that much and.” Lachlan halted himself mid sentence. His thoughts drifted to Stephen Henderson and realised that hardly a day passed without thinking if he was safe or what he was doing. When he closed his eyes he could still see Stephen’s face, smell his scent and hear his voice, that laughing inquisitive tone. Was that love? He knew not and said nothing.

“What about yourself?” Lachlan asked to divert his thoughts unless they gave him away but Toby didn’t answer and there for that night died the conversation.

“The fire’s dying, should I put another long on?” Toby suggested.

“I don’t think so, I don’t like bedding down with it burning, I’ve heard of too many accidents because of unattended fires.”

Toby gave a slight shiver but didn’t complain.

“Have to take a leek,” Lachlan declared and managed his way to some distance beyond the hut.

While emptying his bladder he looked up. The earlier covering of clouds had dissipated and the sky was alive with stars and so bright it almost took his breath away. He gave a deep sigh.

‘Where are you Stephen?’ He thought.

‘Are you also looking upwards?’

‘Can you see the Milky Way – the Southern Cross?’

‘Maybe at this very moment you are also looking up.’ Another long and sorrowful sigh before returning to his bed, “Good night my friend,” he whispered on entering the hut.

With the fire burnt down to a few stray embers the night grew cold. Away from the coast without a sea breeze to moderate the temperature, the single blanket Toby had over him let in the chill.

“It’s a bit cold,” He complained across the space of the small hut to where Lachlan was bedded, “I should have gone to bed in my clothes.”

“It is a bit, I forgot about the nights out here and I didn’t bring extra blankets.”

“I’ll just have to suffer then.” Toby complained.

“Come over here with me, it will be wormer with two blankets and extra body heat.”

No sooner had Lachlan made the suggestion than Toby crossed the room and joined him, throwing his own blanket across them both. Lachlan felt the force of Toby’s back pushing back against his own. He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Toby asked releasing a final shiver.

“You’re naked!”

“So are you.” Then they both laughed and were asleep.

Long before sunrise the bush birds were in full call, Kookaburras and Magpies sang with gaiety in reverence to the thin veil of light across the eastern horizon. Lachlan woke with the sound and could hear Toby releasing a soft snore at his back. During the night Toby had turned, now his body was at full length along Lachlan’s own and by the prod at the small of his back, Toby was erect. ‘Piss fat.’ Lachlan thought and moved slightly away from the furnace that burnt in his friend’s crotch. The movement awoke Toby who rolled onto his back and coughed.

“You’re awake then?” Lachlan asked.

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Sort of, you do give off a lot of body heat.” Toby suggested.

“I’ve been told that before.”

Toby paused, remembering Lachlan had admitted not having a girl friend, “who else have you slept with?” He questioned with a mocking chuckle.

“Only Stephen Henderson when the occasion demanded, like last night.”

“Naked?” Toby asked displaying a measure of surprise.

“Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know this Henderson fellow.” Toby answered as he had not heard his friend talk of him before.

“Just a mate, he’s gone bush to find his fortune in cattle. Lachlan’s voice lowered as once again concern came to mind for Stephen’s safety.

“You will have to tell me more about this Mr. Henderson fellow.”

“There’s nothing to tell, I grew up with Stephen, his parents have a property not far from our front gate, we spent lots of time together at the native camp, that’s about it.” Lachlan concluded.

“When at the camp did the two of you run naked like the native kids?” Toby asked.

“Sometimes, they don’t have restrictions on showing the body like we whites do. That is probably why I don’t seem to concern with it now.”

“I guess likewise, on board ships the crew don’t worry about nudity.”

“I’ve heard things go on when at sea.” Lachlan made innuendo.

“Like what?”

“You know, with no women around.”

“That my friend you will have to sign on to discover.” Toby laughed.

“Fair crack but I don’t think I’m all that interested.”

“That is mostly navy talk. I need a piss.” Toby croaked, then leapt from the bunk and headed for the door. As he hurried his perfectly balanced arse bounced along behind him. Outside the door an ‘Ahhh’ sound was heard as relief came and moments later he returned still somewhat excited. He reached for his trousers and quickly covered his nakedness.

“You getting up?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons.

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’d be embarrassed.” Lachlan sheepishly answered, holding the bedding high.

“Don’t tell me you need a piss as well? Come on I won’t look.” But as Lachlan sprang from the bunk Toby did look and perceived a sight he didn’t expect.

“Shit Lachlan did you let that carpet snake back in.” He gasped at the view of Lachlan’s nakedness.

Toby volunteered to cook breakfast while Lachlan set the fire and fetched fresh water from the creek. Returning he could smell bacon already sizzling and the aroma of coffee. “That smell’s good.”

“It’s almost ready, so grab a plate.”

“I like bacon but as I remember not the way old Chow did it – sweet and sour bacon and eggs.” Lachlan said.

“Yea sweet and sour everything, so what’s on for the day?” Toby asked as they finished their breakfast.

“Not a lot, some branding and I need to repair the fence over to the south.”

“What would you like me to do?” Toby offered.

“Mostly keep me company and fetch.”

“Fetch?” Toby inquisitively asked.

“Yes you know fetch things, make coffee and tell me all about your most interesting sea shanties,” he paused “and remind me how clever I am.”

“I don’t think you need me to tell you that.”

“I was only gamin but I am enjoying the company.”

“I could get used to this.” Toby declared as they left to attend to the horses.

“What about life at sea?”

“Well I could get used to it for a while anyway.” Then Toby drew quiet, becoming serious before corrected his account, “truthfully Lockie, I think my next ship will be my last, I’m thinking of becoming land locked.”

“What’s brought that on?”

“I suppose the loss of the Capricorn and Mr. Simpson, now I see him everywhere when I’m on board and hear his voice bellowing from the foredeck.”

“You would always be welcome our way.” Lachlan offered.

“Be careful what you wish for, it may come true.”

“I mean it Toby, maybe not at the farm but eventually I’ll have my own place, I promise that.”

With two the branding and fencing were finished quickly and time remaining Lachlan decided to show Toby the sights of Crystal Springs. There was an Aboriginal grave yard to the north, where the dead were wrapped in bark and tethered high in burial trees. Respectfully, unlike his father who had removed some of the trees for his use, Lachlan kept his distance from those trees but there were other less sacred sites to be seen, pointing them out as they passed. Then for no apparent reason Lachlan made a dog-leg turn around a clearing with a large central bolder. Pointing towards the clearing he spoke. “That’s women’s initiation no man is permitted to go there.

“Do you take these initiation rites seriously?” Toby asked as they skirted at distance the women’s site.

“Not at all but if we respect their beliefs they will respect ours, the blacks are like that, they have a naive honesty that is rare in Europeans.”

“The only blacks I’ve known, except for those who killed Mr. Simpson, have been half civilized and always on the piss.” Toby acknowledged.

“Half civilized that is the problem, they become neither black nor white, it’s no wonder they drink.”

“I’ve always been told they are murdering savages.”

“Not at all and they have wonderful dreamtime stories and great humour,” Lachlan laughed, “mostly at our expense and too subtle for us to understand.”

“It appears you really like the blacks.” Toby suggested.

“Like isn’t the terminology I would use, I grew up more so at the camp than with my own family, even if my father disallowed it,” another pause before a more serious continuation, “I respect them and respect is most important, even within one’s own family.”

A short distance beyond Lachlan’s horse paddock was a high waterfall that flowed strongly all year and seemed to sing as the water touched the rocks on descent, while rippling below in pools of bubbling silver, being from where the springs received its name.

Beyond the falls the stream, shrouded in tall forest trees, wound its way down from the mountains cool and pure, often flowing through lofty ravines where climbing was most difficult and dangerous and trees grew awkwardly from fractures in the rocks. Along its course large boulders had been washed down from the mountains during past flooding and settled one on top of another creating rapids and deep pools that to the imprudent could prove fatal.

Lachlan had often followed the stream to its mountain spring and the summit, to stand on that high ground and gaze west to the dry plains beyond. Where there were many rivers to be seen, some flowing North West, others to the South and could be depicted by ribbons of trees that followed the banks but the flat lands between were dry and the rivers often seasonal.

Lachlan decided this trip would only be to the falls as to go further one needed to travel on foot and would take at least two days travelling, while doubting Toby’s sea legs could withstand such an ascent but he dearly wished to climb to the heights and look westward to where Stephen may be.

The water was beckoning and soon found the two stripped and emersed in the cooling pond. There were many pools at the bottom of the falls or varying depths, while their choice closest to the falls was no greater than neck deep with a sandy bottom that constantly shifted with the gentle flow.

The noon sun was strong even through the canopy of trees surrounding the pool, creating dappled shadows across the water, when Toby released a gasp, “is there fish in these waters?”

“Yes, why?”

“Something touched my leg.”

“Probably a bony brim.”

Toby settled.

“Or a croc.” Lachlan cheekily grinned.

“What!”

“I was only joking,”

“The trouble with you Lachlan McBride, one never knows when you are joking.”

“The natives call it gamin.” Lachlan explained.

“I’ve heard you use that word on a number of occasions, what is gamin?”

“It is when you take the piss out of someone but usually in a friendly way, I guess like joking but at another’s expense.”

“I love the coolness of the water.” Toby regarded.

“Yes it is great this time of the year but during the wet you wouldn’t last but seconds in here, the water comes out of the mountains like Noah’s flood.” Lachlan explained and pointed to a line of debris along the cliff face a good twenty feet above their heads.”

“Does the flooding worry your horses or the hut?”

“Not really, there is plenty of high ground for the horses and the hut is on a separate spring but it also floods on the occasion.”

“There you go; one more thing to be glad not to be living on the land. Floods, snakes, crocs and savage natives, you’ve got the lot.” Tody shook his head dismally.

“You forgot poisonous spiders.”

“Yea them as well.”

The conversation once again drifted from the ocean to the forest and people they had known. More often Lachlan’s thoughts revolved around Stephen Henderson, while that of Toby was the Capricorn and its captain.

Standing close to Toby Lachlan let his arms drift in the light current and as they did so, gently brushed by Toby’s crotch.

“Oh sorry,” He quickly apologised, bringing his arms back to fold across his chest.

“No damage.” Toby laughed, then from the bank their horses commenced to show nervousness.

Lachlan quickly scanned the area and observed a tall black man standing at the top of the waterfalls. The native carried hunting spears and appeared as surprised in seeing two naked white fellows as they were in seeing him.

“I think we should dress and leave.” Lachlan said, leading the way from the water. He looked back but the native had gone.

“Is he from your mob?” Toby asked while buckling his trousers belt.

“No his body marking were different, probably from the west.”

“Dangerous?”

“Maybe, maybe not it is hard to tell but I think we should head back to the hut, he had hunting spears, so I guess he was alone and the western lot often come to the top of the falls but don’t seem to come further.”

With the work finished Lachlan decided to head home the following morning. So before the light had gone he packed their gear and tidied the hut ready for the next visit.

That night the conversation was light. Maybe it was because of the sighting of the native, or because their time had ended but when it came to bed Toby joined Lachlan without any invitation.

“Do you think that native will still be around?” He whispered close to Lachlan’s ear.

“No we are too close to the Gulngai burial ground. They are very superstitious and frightened of ghosts and if he hasn’t much contact with white men he may have thought we were ghosts of dead ancestors. Besides if anyone is prowling the horses will let us know.”

Even with Lachlan’s confidence, Toby moved closer and cuddled deeper into his back. Toby’s naked skin felt good against his own and without thinking, Lachlan reached behind and dragged Toby’s arm across his shoulder and held it close to his chest but his thoughts remained with Stephen.

With the morning Lachlan once again looked in on his horses and revisited the pool where they had been swimming, where he appeared to be searching the ground for something lost.

“Have you lost something?” Toby asked while preparing to help with the searching.

“No I’m looking to see if our visitor from yesterday has ventured further down the valley.”

“How would you know?”

“Tracks, I am looking for any sign of his tracks.”

“Can you track like the natives?” Toby asked appearing surprised in his friends suggested ability.

“A little but no where as good as the Gulngai can, they can track a Tommy-roundhead lizard through leaf litter.” Lachlan became satisfied and ended his search.

“What’s a Tommy-roundhead?”

“It’s just a small lizard, a dragon.”

“Do they spit fire?” Toby wittily suggested.

“Not a lot, they call them dragons but are quite small, one could comfortably sit on the palm of you hand and they can change their skin colouring to suit their surroundings.

“You are a wealth of natural information.” Toby phrased while once again scanning the hill tops for any sign of their visitor. All he could see was trees, thinking if he were at sea he could spot the hump of a whale from a mile or more.

“I suppose hanging around the Gulngai for so many years one had to pick up a few pointers. I have even seen their best trackers follow wallaby tracks up the face of a rocky escarpment.

“Very smart of them,”

“I don’t know, I remember Mr. Simpson telling me that you could predict a storm out of a clear sunny day.” Lachlan recalled.

“I wasn’t that good but I suppose after years of practice one does get a feeling for weather, as I guess you have for tracking. Have you found any signs he has been down in the valley?”

“I’m sure he didn’t, as I said this was a burial ground, so only the brave would venture here.” Lachlan drew a smile, “but I do see the tracks of some dog, probably that dingo you heard last night.”

“You know Lockie, I have really enjoyed myself and it is good to be away from my memories,” Toby admitted freely as they packed the last of their gear into saddle bags.

“There will be others if you wish,”

“I guess my new ship will arrive quite soon.” Toby released a sigh.

“You don’t appear excited about returning to sea?”

“Reservations Lockie, I have reservations and as I said most probably my last.”

The two mounted and after a final inspection of the fence and the horses they commenced for home.

“Come the spring I will have a new mob of foals.” Lachlan admitted showing a measure of prospect, “and with the number of folk arriving I reckon I’ll make a good profit.”

“What are you future intentions?” Toby asked.

“Eventually with Stephen Henderson we will have our own property but I guess that is a long way off.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Toby asked.

“That is a question I am often asked and I also ask of myself. It’s a little difficult to explain but there are a number of factors and not just father.” Lachlan gave a sigh as they passed by the Henderson farm. Noticing Jack Henderson at his gate Lachlan waved. “How old are you now Toby?” Lachlan asked as they rode by.

“Eighteen why?”

“You are your own man?”

“I guess so, even more so now Mr. Simpson has gone.”

“That is our difference, I am somewhat tied to the family, because of father’s influence I wouldn’t find work anywhere in the north and there is also mother to consider.” Lachlan released a long sigh as they reached the McBride gate.

“Are you certain you’re not using that as an excuse?” Toby suggested.

“Maybe I am, I can’t be certain but I don’t wish to test your theory, well not yet, besides I’ll soon travel out and see how Stephen if fairing, maybe I’ll stay, who knows.” As he spoke Robert arrived at the gate and opened it to allow passage.

“Lachlan,” He greeted simply.

“You haven’t met Toby.” Lachlan said as they passed through.

“I knew from William you had a visitor. “Robert nodded his head, “Toby,” he simply greeted.

“Is William around?” Lachlan asked.

“He and Lucy are already up at the house for tonight’s dinner but I’m uncertain if father has arrived back as yet.” Once spoken Robert closed the gate behind the riders and went on his way without further conversation.

“Your Robert doesn’t have a lot to say.” Toby offered.

“He’s a thinker and not a talker and yet after a few drinks it’s hard to shut him up.”

“This family of yours has many aspects.” Toby commented.

“What do you mean?”

“Well firstly William who is surely and demanding, Cameron who appears to be his shadow and Robert quiet and introverted, then you.”

“Yes me and what of me?” Lachlan laughed.

“I believe I have already analysed you.” Toby conveyed somewhat cheekily.

“You haven’t met the girls.”

“True,”

“And you have left one out.” Lachlan informed.

“That I have, Daniel is a little harder to make out. On the surface he appears well settled and carefree while he plays the fool but under it all I believe he is most fragile.” Toby drew serious, while his manner appeared to be drawing towards Daniel.

“I think you have more than a point there; that is why I forgive him for all his antics, – well most.”

At the stables the two dismounted and Lachlan took control of the horses, “When I saw Stephen Henderson away over the Jump-over, I took a swim on the return journey and he stole my clothes, he thought it the smartest thing he had done in an age.”

“Hey you two?” Daniel arrived as Lachlan removed the saddles.

“Daniel,” Toby greeted.

“Best you let Toby and I attend to the horses. Lachlan you better get ready for dinner.

“You don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did but the old man has just arrived and as usual he’s spitting chips.”

Let Gary know what you think of his story.

51,974 views