Published 26 Oct 2017

Ricky watched the two figures in front of him as they broke into a trot and the horse under him easing up to the speed of the others without any need to be told by Ricky. Barry turned and with an arm motion called him to come up level with the two in front.

Before Ricky could respond Jipa opened his gait to a canter and as they drew level the other two horses broke into the same gait. The canter was the most economical gait for the horses in this heat and at the same time consumed the ground under their hoofs so that the distance was eaten up very quickly.

“Jeez Boonga, look at Jipa, the bastards matching his gait to Short Asses movements; aint seen that before. What you do to that horse, Short Ass? He’s never done that before, usually tries ta pull you friggin arms out.”

Ricky looked down and saw that the gait of his horse was a little shorter but quicker than the other two and making for a smooth ride for him, no jolts or sudden movements and he felt as though he was gliding along on the horse.

“Won’t nobody else be able to ride him now Baza, he’s Short Asses horse now.”

“Yeah Boonga looks like it, the old man aint half gonna spit tacks ova this.”

“He’ll know Baza; Jipa needs the right one for him, he’s been waiting for Short Ass to come.”

“Ahh shit Boonga, you and ya dream time shit.”

“Not dream time Baza, just Jipa.’

“Yeah right Boonga, hey Short Ass! If you want to slow him just push your feet forward in the stirrups and sit back in the saddle, he’ll know what ya want.”

“Thanks Baza.”

“No probs mate, she’ll be right.”

They cantered across the barren landscape with the red dust thrown up behind them as they rode side by side until Warringal pointed ahead of them and spoke to Barry.

“By that big Mulga Baza.”

“Yeah I see im Boonga, slow him down Short Ass, got sumthin ta show ya.”

Ricky pushed forward with his feet and sat back as Barry had said and Jipa slowed to a trot then to a calm walk as they neared an old scrubby Mulga bush. Warringal lifted his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence as the horses came to a halt ten feet from the bush. Warringal pointed to the ground for Ricky and made the signal to dismount.

As Ricky got down so did Warringal and taking a small hand full of leaves from his saddle he handed them to Ricky and moved forward. Ricky saw the bush move and as the red dust started to fall from the slight mound under the Mulga Ricky saw the strangest animal emerge from under the bush. It stood about 18″ at the shoulder, and about two feet long ,a thickset and round solid body with a head like a small bear and stubby legs with powerful claws at the end, it gave a small grunt almost like a pig and its beady eyes watched the two humans as they neared it.

Warringal gestured to Ricky to put out the hand with the leaves he had given him toward the beast and to squat on the ground and not to move. Ricky did as he was told and watched as this weird looking animal approached him warily; When it was standing only inches from his hand as it began to munch on the leaves and Ricky could smell the muskiness of it as it ate all the leaves and then with a final look at the two of them he turned and slowly made its way back to the shade of the scrub bush.

“What was that Warringal?”

“Wombat, you don’t usually see them this time of day, must be hungry from the drought.”

“Stinks a bit.”

“They don’t like water cept to drink, so they keep the bugs down by dust baths, you’re lucky not many people get to see them like that. You got a good heart Short Ass or the animals wouldn’t like you, just like Jipa.”

Ricky marvelled at this encounter with the first of the Australian marsupials, he had never dreamed that he would see any let alone get to feed one from his hand. This day was becoming one of the best in his life already and it wasn’t over yet. The two boys remounted and they began to head out toward the distant rise in the ground in front of them.

“That’s the tank ova there; see the flats rise a little, we’ll have a dunk and then go to ten mile and chase up a roo or two.”

The three of them cantered onward and then as they neared the rise Ricky could see birds circling around the area of what Barry had called the Tank. Most of the birds Ricky had never seen before and those he recognised from books were very few, the sounds were all new to him, squawks, screeches, twitters, loud raucous calls, sing song whistles, they all created a noise his ear were not accustomed to. Bright flashing colours and dowdy greys and browns mixed in a plethora of flashing light, there were birds with bright yellow crests on their heads and others that looked the same type of bird but had pink and red crests. There were large black parrots with flashing red breasts and wing tips and they all fought for space at the water tank with small green and blue parakeets and the loud calling lorikeets as they all flashed and dived to get close to the water to drink.

“Sounds like a bloody barn yard here today Boonga?”

“They get thirsty too Baza, ya knows that.”

“Yeah, right, ok last in is a woose.”

Barry was diving off his horse as he stripped of his cloths and seemed to hit the water naked in one movement as the horse was still coming to a halt. Warringals shorts were in the air as he dived straight off the back of his horse and into the tank of water. Ricky sat there wondering what had happened then Jipa gave a shudder as though to say ‘move it boy, they waiting for you’ Ricky slid off the horse and began to strip all thoughts of modesty long gone as the water asked him to dive in. Warringals copper bronze colour could be seen as he snaked under the water to appear under Barry and toss him up and out of the tank with effortless ease, Barry landed with an almighty crash as his stomach hit the water first.

“Jeez Boonga that was a dirty one, I never grabbed your nuts before ya bastard, Im gonna get your arse for that.”

Ricky stripped off the last of his clothes and as he dived in he felt two smooth hands pass over his skin, he surfaced and saw Warringal smiling at him.

“No worries Short Ass we gonna have time later.”

Ricky wondered about what he meant and then saw Barry grab Warringal by the crutch and with his other hand on his butt bodily lift him out of the water and throw him six feet out into the tank.

“How’s ya black arse feel now Boonga?”

Warringal surfaced laughing as Barry swam over to Ricky.

“Want a toss Yank?”

“Huh?”

“To late Yank.”

Ricky felt those big hands on his small butt, grasping each cheek and the next thing he was flying through the air, the water five feet below him and as it came up to meet him he tucked his head down and hit the water like a cannon ball but the feel of those two big hands seem to stay on his butt as he went under and came up spluttering, he turned and looked to where both Barry and now Warringal were standing laughing.

“Hey Boonga, he’s gotta nice arse, small and tight.”

“Yeah Baza, but he’s got more’n that.”

“What ya mean Boonga?”

“He’s got sumthin you aint Baza.”

“So?”

“Brains Baza, and he feels the animals, he’ll have a dreamtime soon, havta take him walkabout one day.”

“Jeez Boonga, you going abo on me now?”

“Shit yoos know betta Baza, it’s in him is all.”

“Ok, ok, let’s get out and dry then head for ten mile; come on Short Ass come get dry, don’t worry about that little thing you got we haven’t any snakes here that chases worms.”

Ricky realised he was blushing at the straight forward talk of Barry and Warringal as they lay naked in the sun drying, he went to lay down beside them and saw that Warringal was hard and erect as the sun warmed him. His shaft was almost silken in its smoothness, he was circumcised and about six and a half inches long not to thick but not thin either. Against his slim dark figure his rod looked larger than it would have on someone taller.

He had a small patch of black tightly curled pubic hair but apart from that he was hairless everywhere else, he lay there at peace with his surroundings. Ricky saw that Barry had a big bush of dark red hair above a very large uncircumcised rod, his balls were large and hung low and the pubic hair ran up his stomach in a thin line to his navel. There were no tan lines on him so he had to spend a lot of his time naked in the sun, even his butt cheeks that Ricky could see were the same dark tanned colour. Barry lay there flaccid where as Warringal was rigid and tight, Ricky felt himself begin to rise to the occasion as he saw the other two lying there, he was about to turn his back for the sake of modesty when Barry said.

“Don’t worry about it Ricky, it’s ok mate, you just be yourself with us, we’re not going to kick the fuck outa ya, Warringal’s like you that’s why we get on good apart from bein almost brothers, he’s gay too so you’re safe with us.”

“H… h… how did you know Barry?”

“Saw it in your eyes soon as I came into the room and knew then I had to look out for ya, besides Warringal likes ya and he’s my brother so to speak. He likes ya then I likes ya, you two got to get together sometime, be good for both of ya; now settle down Yank and dry off, you’re among friends here.”

For the first time in his life Ricky relaxed and felt as though he belonged.

“Nuther thing Yank.”

“Yes?”

“Get ta know Shorty; he’s like you two and a nice kid but, tough home life; his old mans a drunk but he’s a real nice kid. Just call him Mark one day, he’ll know I told ya and that you’re ok with him.”

“Mark, hmm, ok thanks Barry.”

Ricky looked over at Warringal expecting to see some sort of jealous look in his eyes as he liked Ricky but there was only deep friendship in them and a glint of possible closeness should Ricky want it; he smiled at Warringal and nodded his acceptance of the young dark boy, a bond was established with that one look between them.

“Ok you two stop making goo-goo eyes at each other, we gotta move, let’s have a look at ya Yank; got ta make sure ya dry or you’ll get the itch, it’ll drive ya crazy.”

“Whats the itch Barry?”

“If ya don’t keep your crutch dry out here in this heat ya get a rash, drives ya bonkers for days if ya not careful; c’mere and let me see ya, got the towel there Boonga?”

Warringal walk over to Barry’s horse and reached into the small saddle bag taking out a hand towel and returning to where the others were standing holding it out to Barry and watching as he inspected Ricky’s groin area. Barry took the towel from Warringal and began to dry around Ricky’s inner thighs and under his sack rolling his balls around gently in his hand as Ricky stood there stunned at the familiarity Barry was showing.

“Don’t worry Ricky I’m straight, but out here you gotta be careful with hygiene, ya can get infection out here real easy, if I aint here then ask Boonga, don’t let things go for later ya can end up real crook pretty damn quick.”

Ricky stood there red with embarrassment his rod up and hard as his ball sack was dried and then his inner thighs, the touch was more gentle than he though the big redhead was capable of.

“There ya go short Ass, don’t put those fancy boxer things back on that silky stuff’ll make ya sweat to much just slide the daks on you’ll feel better when ya heat up chasin roos.”

Ricky did as he was told and slipped the coarse cotton trousers over his bare skin, the feel was cooler than he thought it would be and the padded seat of the trousers felt good on his bare butt as he mounted his horse again. Warringal jumped onto his horse naked tossing his shorts into the saddlebag on Barry’s saddle his skinny tight butt seemed to nestle down onto the horses back with ease. Barry took out a pair of loose baggy drill shorts and put them on stowing his other clothes in the bag with everything else.

“Here Yank, put this on the sun’ll fry ya.”

Barry tossed him an over large tee shirt to cover his torso already sweating with the heat and it clung to him as hundreds of black blowflies appeared like magic to suck up any moisture, now he could see the reason for the small corks strung around the brim of the hat he’d been given. The movement kept the flies from landing on his face but as soon as the horses began to move the flies seemed to disappear and the speed of the canter created their own breeze to cool them down. The deserts dust and heat was still a shock to Ricky but in the new and now somewhat familiar clothes he felt more comfortable, the horses built up to a good steady canter again and the rhythm and movement under him gave Ricky that floating feeling again as Jipa altered his gait to Ricky’s needs.

After twenty minutes Ricky saw Barry reach down and unstrapped his two stirrups from the saddle.

“Hey Boonga here catch, look ova ta the right.”

Barry threw one of the stirrups to Warringal as Ricky looked over to his right and then saw his first kangaroos. A herd of about twenty were sitting back on their hind legs with their small rabbit like heads looking toward the three boys. With a loud whoop Warringal broke his horse into a flat out gallop guiding it with only his legs as he swung the stirrup iron around his head, the horse seemed to know the game and was flat out in a long ground eating gallop. The kangaroos seemed to also know what was happening and took off in different directions as Warringal thundered down on them.

“Stay here with me Ricky just watch the fun, we’ll give ya a go later on.”

Ricky watched in amazement as he saw the kangaroos take flight from the crazy human galloping at them swinging the stirrup iron above his head. The roos were at top speed within a few bounds, where the horse had the edge in straight out speed the kangaroos had the advantage of their long ground eating leaps.

With their tiny front paws tucked up tight under their chin and their bodies stretched out parallel with the ground as the large solid tail balanced them and the huge oversized rear legs propelled them in mighty leaps reaching a speed of around 30 miles an hour in two hops. Warringal picked one out of the heard and was after him while Ricky and Barry cantered along behind watching the chase as it zigged and zagged through the mulga scrub, sand ridges and gum trees scattered about the flat plain.

“That’s a young buck he’s picked out, Boonga’ll have him soon it’s not old enough to have much experience to dodge about like an older one.”

Ricky watched as Warringal closed the gap and then noticed that the horse was not following the roo in every turn but was cutting corners at certain times shortening the distance without having to run too hard When they were up beside the leaping animal and Ricky then saw how devastating the stirrup iron could be as Warringal leaned over and swung the iron down at the head of the roo connecting just to the side of the pointed ears. The roo seemed to stop in mid stride then nose dived into the dust as Warringal rode on past slowing his horse and turning back to his trophy. Barry took Ricky up close to where Warringal sat on his horse above the young animal waiting.

“Ya want him for tucker Boonga?”

“Yeah Baza he looks in good nick, got the knife there?”

Barry reached into his saddlebag and drew out a wicked looking sheath knife, its edge showing bright and sharp in the sunlight. He tossed it down to Warringal now on the ground waiting and once he had the knife in hand he turned quickly and leaning over the young kangaroo lifted its head and with one quick movement cut through the throat holding its head back to let the blood cover the ground in a bright red fountain.

Ricky felt a slight churning in his stomach at the sight of so much blood but the excitement of the chase and the newness of the game had made him as hard as a rock and he forgot about the blood spewing onto the ground as he watched fascinated by Warringal’s actions, once the roo had stopped bleeding Warringal dragged it to a large nearby Gum tree and hung it up out of reach of ground animals to be collected on their way back to the homestead.

“Give the Yank your stirrup Boonga he can have a go at the next one, reckon ya can handle it Short Ass?”

“Ah… yeah… Well I’ll try Barry.”

“Gud onya mate that’s the way, have a go and you’ll find its fun.”

“Ahm… Barry do we have to kill it?”

“Nah you kin just clip him and he’ll be ok later, gives em a headache for a while but they get goin again if ya don’t want ta do him in. She’s right mate, you’re here ta have fun so’s do it your way.”

The three went looking for the group of kangaroos again to pick one out for Ricky to ride down and ‘clip in the ear’ as Barry put it. Most of the herd were now scattered among the sparse gum trees and mulga scrub still alert to the three boys riding toward them.

“Ok Short Ass, see that big red one standing to the side of the others? He’s the boss of the heard so you can head after him; he’s an old one and sneaky as hell but you’ll have fun trying him on, go get him Yank.”

With that piece of advice Barry brought his hand down on the rump of Ricky’s horse and he was off toward the big red male out to the side of the heard. The kangaroos saw him coming their way and began to scatter. With a small tug on his reins Ricky headed Jipa toward the big roo, the horse knew what was going on and took up the chase in a ground eating gallop as the big male set off away from the rest of its group.

Through the rush of the wind in his ears from the speed of the horse Ricky could hear the other two boys yelling and whooping as the race began, Ricky felt the muscles bind and flow under him as the horse galloped and with twists and turns was gaining on the big red in front of them. Scrub and gum trees were a blur as they raced on, the adrenaline bringing Ricky to the greatest high he’d ever known as they closed the gap. It seemed little time had passed when they were beside the big bounding animal.

Without a thought Ricky was swinging the heavy stirrup iron over his head as he’d seen Warringal do, then he was falling head first toward the red dust the roo nowhere to be seen. Something was trapped around his left leg as the ground rushed up toward him, he could see every grain of sand and blade of course tough grass as they rushed to meet him. In a flash like a bright light he felt the sharp raging pain as he hit the ground hard. Flashing lights shot through his head and the taste and smell of hot dust and dry grass filled his nose and mouth as the darkness overtook him, his last thought was the headstone with the inscription,

Ricardo Mendoza
Killed in action in Australia
Aged 14 yrs
R.I.P.

Ricky’s eyes fluttered as his vision cleared; there was no pain only a hot almost rancid smell and then it struck him. The priest back at home had been right when he told him the day Ricky had said he didn’t want to go to church anymore because of the hypocrisy as well as his orientation.

The priest had ranted and raved at Ricky, telling him that he was the spawn of the devil and he would go to hell when he died, now Ricky knew he was right. The strong acrid smell must be brimstone, above him stood the devil himself. A cloven hoof (or Ricky thought it was a cloven hoof) was planted on each side of his shoulders covered in thick coarse red hair just like the pictures showed, the devils hot breath blowing into his face as Satan snorted at his little body on the banks of the Styx. The boatman Ricky saw as a dark shadow standing to the side of the hoofs.

The devils henchmen screeched and yelled at him from a far off place as he resigned himself to purgatory, it had to happen the priest said it would and then the blessed darkness returned as the devil drooled onto his face.

“Fuck Boonga, we gotta do sumthin, that fuckin horse won’t let us near him. He’s hurt bad Boonga, can you get that crazy horse to let us near him?”

“I’ll try Baza, but yuh know what an animal’s like when he’s protecting somethin.”

“Try to get to him from on your horse Boonga, Jipa might let you near him.”

Warringal mounted his horse and rode toward Jipa as he stood over Ricky’s prone shape on the ground. The horse lifted its head with nostrils flaring and eyes glaring at the approaching rider, he snorted again in warning. It was his job to see his little rider was not hurt by these humans and he wasn’t going to let them near him.

“Damn it Boonga, we got ta get to him, looks like his wrists broken and that left leg don’t look to good neither.”

“I think it might be better if I go for help Baza, I can cut straight across and be at the house in half an hour if I go up chainman’s gulley.”

“That’s friggin suicide Boonga.”

“Gotta try Baza, can’t leave him here.”

“Yeah ya right Boonga, you go for it I’ll stay here, if that friggin horse’d only let me get to him.”

“I’ll try to get your dad to come out Baza he might be able to get Jipa to move, see ya soon, I hope.”

“See ya Boonga, hey! Take it easy in chainman’s gully, don’t want two of ya down.”

As Boonga disappeared in a cloud of dust Ricky’s accident played through Barry’s mind again. The kid had almost sconed the roo with the stirrup when Barry saw the left stirrup strap on Ricky’s saddle snap with the added weight. Even though Ricky was a fly weight it had been enough, the strap must have been worn and all it took was a little more force and then little Ricky was air born. Barry had never in all his life felt so guilty as he did at that moment, if only that friggin horse would back off and let him get to Ricky then he could help him but Jipa had made up his mind that the little guy was his mate and no one was going to hurt his mate.

Now and again Ricky’s eyes fluttered open only to see that Satan was still standing over him, his huge red chest no more than 2 or 3 feet above him. He reached up his hand to touch and feel the devils chest, Satan again blew hot air into his face as he felt the coarse hair just above him and then the blackness again as the hard packed banks of the river Styx made his place uncomfortable to lie on. He tried to move but as he brushed the devils leg a sharp agonising pain shot through his left arm and he passed into oblivion again to the sound of a henchman’s strange braying.

“Fuck it Jipa, you stupid fucking dingbat, I’m trying to help him for fucks sake.”

It was nearly two hours before Barry heard the distinct throbbing of a helicopter as it came at top speed toward the two figures, the horse lifted its head and gave another loud snort and flicked his tail in anger.

Not wanting to scare the horse the chopper pilot landed a good safe distance away from the two boys and then let his two passengers out as he cut the motor. Barry saw a limping Warringal and his father still in his khaki uniform coming toward him.

“Dad ya gotta help us, this friggin horse won’t let us near Ricky.”

“Ok Baz, now what happened?”

“We was chasin roos, Ricky was just gonna scone one and his stirrup snapped he did a head over turkey and I think his wrist is broke, leg looks bad but not broke I don’t think.”

“Is this the young fella ya mum told me about on the phone, Canadian boy?”

“Yeah Dad, he’s a nice kid, he’s like Boonga so I thought I better look out for him.”

“Ya did the right thing Baz, to many bigots round nowadays, ok so why can’t ya get him then?”

“Friggin Jipa won’t let us near him.”

“Why not?”

“Bloody horse took a likin to him and protects him from all of us.”

“Givus that box of sugar lumps Warringal, see if that works; it used to with him.”

Barry and Warringal watched as Brian Hamilton moved slowly toward Jipa with his hand outstretched holding a dozen sugar cubes, the horse lifted his head scenting the air and the familiar sugar smell he liked so much but then he snorted at the man that had reared him from a colt as though to tell him ‘no way Jose you not going to trick me’ Jipa lowered his head in warning as he stood sentinel over his little mate.

Brian backed off a little and turned to the two boys watching him.

“What the hell did the boy do to Jipa, I’ve never seen him like this?”

“Well before he got on him he…well…he breathed up his nose and Jipa just turned into a lamb for him.”

“He did what?”

“He sort of breathed up Jipa’s nose, in about two minutes the bloody horse musta fell in love with him.”

“Bloody Jipa loves bloody Jipa, no one’s eva got near him like that.”

“Don’t know Dad, but he won’t let us near him, thinks we gonna hurt him or sumthin.”

“Ok then if he likes the kid that much then we gotta go for broke, he’ll never hurt the kid so we gotta rush him. Baz you think you can lift the boy and run like hell to the chopper with him?”

“Sure Dad, what ya gonna do?”

“Warringal you go round the other side of Jipa and get his attention, I’m goin to try for his bridle and hope like hell I can hang on. Soon as I have that bridle Baz you move and do it damn quick boy, we won’t get a second chance.”

The three of them began to move toward the horse and his charge laying on the ground. Warringal began to make sudden movements to distract the horse as Brian moved quietly but smoothly forward, it had to be split second timing as they wouldn’t fool the horse a second time.

Warringal leaped high and landed with a thump on the ground and as Jipa started and looked at him, Brian grabbed for the bridle. Barry’s heart was thumping and his breath was coming in short gasps as he raced to Ricky scooping him up and then he was pounding over the hot red dust covered ground toward the chopper while behind him he heard a loud snort followed by two loud yells then the one sound he had feared, the drumming of hooves coming after him.

The pilot had seen what was going on and thinking they had a mad horse on their hands started the rotors whirling as the young boy with his burden came sprinting toward him yelling loudly. The big red horse was pounding over the ground catching up fast and Barry could almost feel Jipa’s hot breath on his back as he threw himself forward and into the choppers doorway. Almost immediately the chopper began to lift off, Jipa was bucking and tossing his head around as he pawed the air trying to get the human that had stolen his little mate.

Barry cradled the small unconscious figure in his arms as the chopper turned toward the homestead, the pilot was calling the flying doctor service for assistance and telling them to meet him at the homestead where they would put the boy to bed.

Tears began to flow from Barry’s eyes as he looked down on his little charge, the tension and strain of the last two odd hours taking their toll of his emotions. He knew it was an accident but his emotions and thoughts kept putting the blame on his shoulders, this really great kid was now in danger and all he had done was try to be friendly with Warringal and himself. Barry knew then that he would always be there for Ricky no matter what.

The chopper landed on the front lawn of the homestead and Barry’s mother was all business as she tried to lift Ricky from Barry’s grasp.

“No Mum I’ll carry him, it’s my fault he’s like this; no one’s gonna carry him but me.”

Barry’s Mum looked at the tear stained face and knew better than to try to argue with her son at this time; she lead her son and his burden through to the guest room she had made up just after Brian and Warringal had left in the chopper to find the two boys. Once in the room Barry laid Ricky down gently onto the oversized bed and as his mother watched he began to undress the boy with more tenderness than his mother had ever seen him use on any living thing.

Mrs.H left the room as Barry continued to undress Ricky to fetch some warm water to wash the dirt and dust covered boy before the doctor got there, taking the basin into the bedroom she tried to start to wash Ricky but was stopped by her son.

“No Mum, I look after him no one else.”

“Ok Barry, I understand.”

Mrs. H left the room and Ricky to the tender mercies of Barry to wait outside for the flying doctor to arrive. When the doctor and nurse arrived the bustled into the room telling Barry to leave the boy to them.

“No way Doc, I stay.”

The Doctor looked at Barry’s face which was full of concern for the boy on the bed. The tear stains still fresh on his face and so the doctor just nodded and got to work checking Ricky over and was glad to see that only the wrist was broken. The leg had a nasty strain at the ankle from the stirrup but it was not serious and the boy would be able to walk about in a couple of days although with the aid of crutches but the wrist was going to be a longer haul for him.

The doctor got the nurse to start getting the plaster ready for a cast and after giving Ricky a shot to make sure he felt no pain he reset the bones in his wrist and began to set a cast over it. Barry stood beside the bed as the two medics worked on his friend never letting go of his right hand as they worked.

The doctor and nurse left the room as soon as they had done as much as they could to talk to Mrs. H and give their verdict. Barry sat on the floor beside the bed holding Ricky’s hand as he had done the whole time.

It wasn’t long before Barry heard the chopper again and ten minutes later his father was standing beside him in the bedroom looking down at Ricky. Barry looked up at him the tears beginning to flow again.

“I’m sorry Dad… It’s all my fault… I should’ve looked out for him better.”

“No son, you did all you could; I’m proud of both you and Warringal for what you did for the boy, coming to get me was the wisest thing you could’ve done. He’s in good hands now, your mum has rung the boy’s parents and told them and they’ll be out tomorrow to see him. The Doc says he has to stay in bed for three or four days and is not to be moved so you and Warringal will have to look after him, ok?”

“Thanks Dad, yeah we’ll look out for him where’s B… Warrin?”

“He’s bringing your horse back and he’s got a bad cut on his leg from a fall in chainman’s gully but wouldn’t let us stop to fix it, said we gotta go now to get this guy, I put a t-shirt of yours on it so he can ride home, should be here soon.”

“Wheres that friggin Jipa?”

“Language son, you know what your mothers like about that.”

“Sorry Dad, I’m just worried about Ricky.”

“Ok Baz, I don’t know about Jipa, you beat him to the chopper by about half a yard; he was gonna have your arse come hell or high water. When you took off he turned and took off somewhere we aint seen him since, bloody horse has gone mad I reckon; might have to put him down if we can find him.”

Brian Hamilton looked again at his son, the big cop was known around the district as a hard bastard, took no nonsense from anyone and was always on duty but as he looked at his only son sitting on the floor holding the young Canadian’s hand he felt a tear welling up in his throat, and the sense of pride he felt for his son and the actions he and Warringal had taken. For all his size Barry was only just over fifteen and though he had been brought up out here on the station it was still a lot to ask of someone his age to take on what he had had to do this afternoon.

Brian turned and left the room knowing it was useless to try to get his son to leave the boy even though the shot the doctor had given him would keep him out for hours yet.

Just before dusk Barry heard the sound of a horse and as he looked out the window he saw Warringal riding his horse into the yard. Warringal looked totally beat as he slid off the horse and the yellow t-shirt bound around his thigh had a blood stain on it. Brian took the reins from Warringals tired hand and as he lead the horse away Barry’s mother appeared and clasped Warringal to her then helped him into the house. Ten minutes later Barry heard the shower going and a further twenty minutes and Warringal was standing in the bedroom beside him with a fresh bandage on his leg.

“You go wash Baza, I’ll stay with him.”

“You sure Boonga, you won’t leave him?”

“Promise Baza, I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Ok then, but you don’t leave him Boonga.”

“S’ok Baza go on clean up I’ll be here.”

Barry took a last look at the small figure in the big bed and turned to go to the bathroom and shower. As he got into the shower the water blasting at full pressure hot and steamy, the day replayed itself once more and he let the hot water wash away the tears that bubbled forth.

When he left the shower Barry heard his mother call him into the main room.

“Yes Mum?”

“Jema is making a plate of sandwiches and hot drinks for you and Warringal, will that be ok or would you rather something hot to eat?”

“No that’s fine Mum, I got to get back to him Mum.”

“Ok son, you go ahead Jema will bring it all in for you.”

Mrs. H watched as her only son turned and left the room trying to figure out what had changed Barry so much, he had never been so concerned about anyone other than Warringal like this before and she knew that Barry would protect Warringal with his life if he ever had too. What was it about this young man from Canada that made Barry so protective of him, oh well boys will be boys and he was a teenager and would set his own values as he grew up.

As Barry entered the bedroom a small smile cracked open on his lips, there on the bed fast asleep beside Ricky was Warringal, one arm under Ricky’s head the other over his chest in an attitude of protection and maybe a little more. Warringal was naked and his small tight bronze butt made Barry smile to himself as he settled down in a chair he pulled over from the far wall and sat beside the bed to watch.

Barry must have dozed off for the next thing he knew was being shaken awake by Jema as she handed him the plate of sandwiches and put the hot drinks on the bedside table, Jema Paused and looked at the two boys asleep in the bed, she looked at Barry.

“Gut fa dem two bois, needs eachutha”

“Yeah Jema, they good for each other.”

“White bois gotta go walkabout soon, near time.”

“Yeah maybe Jema.”

“No maybe, he goin.”

“Thanks Jema.”

“Humph”

Barry watch her leave the room and after trying to wake Warringal without success ate a couple of sandwiches and dozed off again.

Barry didn’t know what time it was only that it was dark as the thunderous crashing of splintering wood and flying glass brought him to instant alertness but one look and he knew it was too late as the big red horse smashed its way into the room. The foaming lather of sweat on its body flung over the drapes as it barged into the room, the scratches and cuts on its hide losing blood on the floor as it came toward the big bed where Ricky and Warringal lay still asleep.

Barry was on the far side of the bed and knew he was not going to make the distance in time. The horse snorted and flared its nostril at the unfamiliar scent of the room, these humans had stolen his little mate and now he was here looking for him. The horse lifted its head with eyes a little wild as he looked at Barry across the bed, then he moved closer to the two boys just as the door crashed open and Brian Hamilton came into the room his Glock service pistol in his hand.

To Be Continued

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