Published: 10 Jun 2024

Axel waited by the hut door as the two troopers slowly make their approach across the clearing and could clearly see Daniel’s head through a gap in his hiding.

“Keep your head down kid,” Axel whispers with a nervous breath.

Without urgency the leading trooper approaches Axel, while the second walks his mount about the parameter, almost on top of Daniel, as the lad drops to ground behind a large prickle bush, sending dust into his nose, causing need to sneeze. With much difficulty he holds back from sneezing.

Seeing nothing of interest the trooper rejoins his corporal.

“Are you alone?” the corporal asks.

“I am.”

“Who is in the hut?”

“There isn’t anyone, you can take a look if you like.”

“Check it out Willis,” the corporal orders.

The trooper reluctantly dismounts and enters into the hut, moments later he returns; “nothing,” he reports despondently, “Although there are two dishes on the table.”

“What have you to say about that?” the first trooper asks.

“One of the dishes is from last night; I hadn’t got around to taking them to the creek for washing.”

The trooper growls his disbelief and remounts.

“I believe I saw someone else as we approached,” the corporal suggests.

“You probably saw me coming up from the creek with water for my garden.”

“Don’t be smart kid, or you will get my boot up your arse.”

The corporal has his eyes everywhere but fortunately Daniel remains well hidden.

“Are you looking for someone corporal?”

“I’ll ask the questions. Aren’t you that kid who was houseboy to Sergeant Miller?”

“That was five years hence and before Miller was transferred with his regiment to Mauritius to fight the French.”

“Whose bum-boy are you now?” The corporal is grinning and looking towards Trooper Willis for support.

Willis is more than contented to join with the torment.

“You like a bit of arse Willis,” the corporal suggests, “how about this cheeky young rascal.”

“He’s too scrawny for my liking Len.”

“I don’t know about that, he’s not as scrawny as some of those whore’s you’ve been with in Sydney.”

“I’m no one’s bum-boy sir,” Axel firmly rejects.

“I’ve been posted to the sentry station at Stringers Creek, so I’ll be keeping an eye on you in the future. It only takes one slip to go from free to conviction and Commissioner Bigge has been sent out from London especially to deal with the likes of you.

“Who is Commissioner Bigge sir?” Axel asks.

“He has been instructed to return New South Wales to the prison it was intended to be and stop giving out parcels of land to emancipists.

Appearing to be satisfied the troopers depart with Axel following close behind as far as the top of the track. On their way out the troopers pass by Daniel’s hiding and so close one of their horses almost treads on his hand. Daniel pulls back the hand and holds his breath.

“Keep your head down,” Axel softly growls while pausing close by Daniel’s hide until the troopers turn the first bend along the Stringers Creek track.

“Is it safe to come out yet?” Daniel whispers.

“No; stay down, if I’m not mistaken they will wait out of sight for a while then come back.”

True to form and before one could count to half a hundred, the troopers return. As Axel is remaining close by Daniel’s hide at the start of the track the troopers go no further.

“Did you forget something corporal?”

“My memory capacity is no concern of yours boy.”

Realising what the troopers are about, Axel releases a cheeky smile, “I told you I was alone.”

Neither trooper respond and once a second glance about the clearing is given, they again depart.

Axel allows them time to again make the turn of the first bend and a little more, “I should think you can come out now.”

“Will they come back?”

“I wouldn’t think so, well not today but we will need to be guarded in the future.”

During the remainder of the day, Daniel kept from sight. Fortunately there wasn’t any return from the troopers and as the two settled in for the night, with Ding curled before the fire, Daniel appears to be fidgeting. Axel puts aside making ready his hides to take to Rosie Craddock and issues a question. “Are you worrying about something?”

“Not worried, if anything I am curious.”

“Is it about the troopers returning?”

“Partly.”

“They will but I should think it won’t be for some time. On my last visit to Rosie Craddock I heard they are still having problems with the Irish and that should keep them busy.”

“From where I was hiding, I could hear every word the corporal said.”

“There wasn’t much to hear.”

“One thing did interest me.” Daniel admits.

“What would that be?”

“He asked whose bum-boy you were.”

Axel attempts to distance from the conversation, “that is a long story and one best forgotten.”

“Who was Sergeant Miller?”

“That is something I would rather forget.”

“I only ask as that is what the captain’s overseer was doing to me and why I cleared out, so if you were treated the same, I would understand what you went through.”

“I’m not ready to share that part of my life.” Axel was not happy with Daniel’s approach to his privacy and was ready to tick him off for doing so but for the sake of keeping the peace he remains muted.

“If you ever need to speak of it, I am willing to listen but I should say that I’m not that way.”

Axel’s eyes narrow towards displeasure, “what way would that be Daniel?”

Daniel laughs, “I like girls although I’ve never been with a woman.”

“Except for the blacks you won’t find any out this way.”

“Do you go with the black women Axel?”

“Some do but I keep my distance and best you do the same. Respect them and they well leave you be.”

Axel is transported back to his time with Miller, he remembers lying awake at nights, almost praying to Marsden’s god the sergeant would not come for him but prayers were never enough. He recalls the few nights spent with Edward Buckley before he crossed the mountains, although most of all was the short time with Joshua. How he wished for his painter to return although it had been many months without even the promised letter. Each time he visited Rosie Craddock it was with anticipation he asked for mail but the answer was always negative. Axel was beginning to believe it possible Joshua had returned to England or worse, possibly the ship was lost in a South Pacific storm.

Night was quickly approaching and the sounds of the bush had changed as creatures of the dark took over from a multitude of noisy day birds. Axel had wasted most of the day with the troopers visit and would soon need to hunt again as they were completely out of fresh meat and the dried kangaroo was limited to the evening’s meal. “Hunting tomorrow,” he suggest during a quiet moment.

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“I think that would be a good idea, as the troopers may return.”

“I’d like to see the natives.”

“What meet with them?”

“Only from a distance, the natives I’ve encountered so far have become accustomed to our ways and appear more interested in grog than tradition.”

“I’ll give you far warning as you have already said you like women, don’t even speak to native women, even if they become suggestive towards you,” Axel pauses before continuing as if he is allowing the warning to embed, “that is if you value your life.”

“What do you mean by suggestive?”

“They have different morals than we do and don’t mind enjoying our company but their men are a little touchy with their Yellumundi associating with us.”

“What is Yellumundi?”

“It means woman in the Bedigal dialect.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“One more thing, you can’t be comfortable on the floor, you can share my bed if you want.”

“Yes that would be more comfortable, besides Ding snores and smells of something he’s been rolling in.”

“Then it is settled.”

Hearing his name Ding lifts his head but as nothing appears to be on offer, he gives a light growl and returns to his sleep.

Daniel draws quiet as if he wishes to share something that may not be acceptable.

“What’s on your mind Daniel?”

“What makes you think anything?”

“If nothing else I have become skilled in reading situations and I believe one is developing.”

Daniel hesitates.

“Out with it.”

“You know I would let you.”

“Let me what?”

“Do me.”

“What makes you believe I would want that?”

“I do see how you watch me.”

Axel laughs.

“What’s funny?”

“You are a little presumptive. Do you feel you owe me something and offer yourself as payment?”

“While I’m here I want to fit in with your ways.”

“And Daniel what are my ways?”

Daniel gives a dismissive shrug of his shoulders.

Again Axel laughs.

“Sorry, I only thought -.”

Axel cuts Daniel at mid sentence, “A wise old scot once said, if you have a though, think it again before sharing. No Daniel you don’t owe me anything, especially that.”

During the following day’s hunting nothing was spoken of their previous night’s conversation, although they did share the bed. As for meeting the natives, Daniel’s wish came to fruition sooner than he expected. Not long after commencing their hunt they spied Warrin on his way for fishing in the creek. Daniel was supporting Axel’s second gun, instinctively he pointed the weapon towards the black man.

“Daniel lower your gun,” Axel quietly warns.

“What if he attacks?”

“I know Warrin, he isn’t violent; a little strange in his ways yes but I’ve never found him aggressive.”

Daniel lowers the gun, although it is clear he isn’t as interested in meeting with the natives as he had suggested. He appeared to be shivering as if through a cold winter’s day.

Axel sounds a loud coo-ee and the native diverts from his progress. While approaching Warrin’s eyes are on Daniel. “Got grog?” he asks Daniel.

“No got grog Warrin,” Axel answers for his friend.

Warrin is now in Daniel’s comfort zone. He places a fingertip on Daniel’s chest while speaking in language.

“What did he say?” Daniel asks as he moves away from the pointing finger.

“He wants to know who you are.”

“I am Daniel,” Daniel nervously offers.

“Anul,” Warrin attempts.

“Yes, Anul that’s close enough,” Axel agrees.

Warrin now places the finger on Axel’s chest and laughs, “Saal,” he says then returns the finger to Daniel, “Anul.”

That’s right Saal and Anul,” Axel agrees.

The native is laughing loudly then again speaks in language.

Axel gets the gist of it and shakes his head, “No,” he forcefully determines.

“What did he say?”

“Sister-boys, is the rough of it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Believe me Daniel, you don’t want to know.”

Warrin then continues on towards the creek, he is laughing while repeating his suggestion.

“So what does it mean?” Daniel inquisitively repeats.

“The natives have a word for men who have sex with men and they are called sister-boys.”

“He thinks we are mollies!”

“It seems that way.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Who knows how Warrin thinks but don’t consider him typical of natives, or underestimate him as he has all the traits of a native and we are still considered the invaders, also he had killed white men in the past.”

“It isn’t our fault being here,” Daniel protests.

“That may be true, although to the natives fault doesn’t equate. We are here and they wish us gone.”

“You say Warrin has killed?”

“Yes the bloke who built my hut but Wilson was asking for it.”

“What do you mean he was asking for it?”

“He wounded one of their young men as he passed by. Wilson also fired at the women when they came for Murnong.”

“And you still live here?”

“I have to live somewhere.”

“Where would you rather be, Axel?” Daniel asks.

“That is a good question. Being born at sea, I don’t have a homeland the French have a word for it, Enfant-de-la-Mer, or something like that. It is said my mother came from some place called Southwark therefore I could call that home, although my first memories are here in the women’s prison. Possibly as I was born at sea maybe home is the ocean, although even the thought of being on the ocean scares me.”

“You say your mother came from Southwark?’

“That is what the women in the prison said.”

“You say women’s prison?”

“When I came from the ship as a baby I went with the women to their prison and I was brought up by whores and pickpockets.”

Daniel laughs; “and yet you are neither.”

“They were as rough as guts but in most had hearts of gold.”

“Home for me was New Kent Road in Chaucer. I could have walked to Southwark in no time at all. If you mother remained in London we could have been neighbours, even chums.”

“If,” Axel releases a distant huff.

“We could have swum in the Thames River, although doing so you would need to be cautious not to swallow a turd, even picked pockets together, keeping each other’s backs.”

“Or hanged together.”

“Also that.”

Axel recollects one more adage from Jock’s store of social proverbs. “If dreams were silver pennies, we would both be rich.” he shares.

“Still who knows what may have happened.”

“Those places are only words to me, not memories. I only know Sydney Town and the bush. You know there is a word the newcomers use to describe we born to this country.”

“In your own words you weren’t born here but on the high ocean.”

“At sea true but I was told my birth was in sight of Point Hicks, so for me that is close enough.”

“What is the word to describe those born here?”

“Currency – I am Currency and you are Sterling.”

“How come?”

“Something to do with money value, saying we jolly colonialists aren’t worth as much as an English silver penny.”

“I would think more than likely you would be called Rummers.”

“I guess your meaning would be related to using rum as currency. I don’t think that would be true as I have never touched the stuff, or grog of any sort.”

“I’ve seen you drink beer.”

“Light ale yes, as often it is safer than drinking the water.”

Daniel shows sadness, “It seems you had a difficult life.”

“Life is what you make of it, besides if it is all you know, then you have nothing to compare it with and nothing is missed. I would say it is more difficult for you departing family and London.”

“My family yes but never London as it is a big, busy smelly place, with desperation and danger on every street corner. The rich believe god created the poor in some grand design; therefore they simply close the door and minds on poverty, while walking the stinking streets holding vinaigrettes to their noses.”

Axel abruptly ends the conversation and pints towards a clearing in the forest, “look a nice size wallaby. Your gun is primed; see if you can bring it down.”

Daniel quickly lifts the gun and fires. “Got it!” he shouts as the wallaby falls and kicks its last in nervous tension.

“You’re a better shot than I am but next time aim for its head.”

“Possibly, although you have a better eye for finding them but why the head, it is a much smaller target.”

“People who buy the skins don’t like gaping holes in them.”

Daniel agrees with Axel’s suggestion as he shoulders the dead wallaby and they head for home.

On their return they again meet with Warrin who is carrying a number of small fish skewered through the gills on a thin stick. Seeing the boys he again laughs, “Saal and Anul sister-boys,” he suggests in language.

This time Daniel understands Warrin’s words, “cheeky bugger,” he says.

“At least you are learning some of their language,” Axel complements.

Reaching the hut the boys are in for a surprise. Someone had been there and one of his hides is missing, also supplies from the hut, mostly coffee and sugar, also a container of dehydrated peas. As he was almost out of shot and powder, there was none to take and fortunately their most important possession being the guns were with them on the hunt.

“Natives,” Daniel suggests.

“I wouldn’t think so, true they are proned in stealing anything that is removable but dry peas and coffee, that sounds like one of our lot.”

“The troopers?”

“There are a number of escaped convicts living rough about here; I reckon one of them has stumbled on our little home. I need to visit Rosie Craddock soon, so I’ll ask about as possibly others are having the same problem.”

“I could come with you.”

“Not a good idea, we need to pass the Stringers Creek sentry post on the way in.”

Axel gathered together his hides making ready for his visit to Rosie Craddock. It was a late spring day without a single smudge in the blue vault, although the air is heavy with burning of eucalyptus leaves coming from a bushfire high in the mountains near the Katoomba crossover.

Daniel has his eyes towards the smoke, “do you think the fire will come this way?”

“No it is my reckoning it will be well contained by that storm we had a couple of days back.”

“Hope so. I am remembering last summer when the Captain had us all out fighting a bushfire along his property line. Even with our effort he still lost two sheds.”

“Don’t worry it is miles away.”

With his barrow ready he calls to Daniel, “I’ll be off then,”

“I still would like to come with you.”

“As I said we have to pass the sentry post, so you may be recognised. It is better you stay and keep Ding company.”

“Ding has already buggered off, I saw him earlier heading towards the creek. If I come I could make a diversion around the troopers and meet with you further along the road.”

“You could.”

“Then you agree?”

“It isn’t my decision but I’ve become accustomed to having you about and you would be missed if they caught you.”

Daniel laughs.

“Share your amusement Daniel?” Axel quizzically questions.

“You missing me.”

“Well it is true.”

“Then it is about time you did something about it.”

“Are you referring to your offer you made some time back?”

“I am.”

Axel’s reply is delivered with a laugh and in such a way it could be construed as either ya or nay, “you know something Daniel; I may just do that even so you said you only liked women.”

“When you are as frustrated as I am you would also relent.”

“Oh!”

“Have I shocked you Axel?”

“In a pleasant way, yes you have, although any advancement on that proposition will need to be after we have visited Rose Hill and Rosie Craddock – If at all.”

“So you agree with me coming with you?”

“Reluctantly yes.”

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: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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