Dust on the Horizon (44 page)

Joseph faced a long, lonely journey to the goldfields but he had no choice. No rain had fallen. Wildu Creek was the same as most of the other properties in the area, struggling to support the families who relied on it. Better he go now and have some chance at finding gold before half the state ended up there.

He checked once again that his load was secure. He was taking one of their carts and two horses: one of the old draught horses to pull the load and his own horse tethered behind. The cart was loaded with everything he thought he would need for six months. Some of it had come from Wildu Creek, including the picks and shovels, food supplies and firewood. He'd been advised the latter was in short supply at Teetulpa. The rest he had bought at Mr Garrat's shop in Hawker. Garrat was doing a good trade in tents and panning dishes and the like. Joseph hadn't darkened Wiltshire's door but word had it his business was struggling. Farmers had no money and no use for his fine goods in the current climate.

Joseph came round the cart and face-to-face with Millie. She had a shawl around her shoulders and her long hair was still tousled from a restless night. They'd woken very early, neither of them able to sleep well, and said their goodbyes with their tender lovemaking. Now he reached for her hand and she wrapped herself around him, holding him tight one last time. He did the same and felt the lump of his lucky rock in his shirt pocket. She slipped her hand over it.

“You have your rock?”

“Safe in the new pouch you made for it.”

“And the water?”

“Yes.” He eased her from his arms and looked into her deep brown eyes. Ever since they'd heard the news that Rufus Prosser had died of typhus at the goldfields, his family had each in their own way asked him not to go, except for Millie. “I will keep well.”

“I know your mind is made up, Joseph, so I won't say anything more than I love you and safe travels.”

He bent down and kissed her. He didn't want to leave without once more having the taste of her on his lips.

“Goodbye, my love.” He drew away and climbed up onto the cart where he gave the horse soft encouragement to move. The old boy ambled forward immediately as if sensing there was no need for long goodbyes. Joseph didn't look back. No matter how hard it was to leave he knew Millie and the children would be safe with his parents and her brother. Joseph's job was to find gold.

He hadn't gone far when a familiar figure emerged from the bush. Joseph halted his horse.

“Binda. What are you doing out here?”

“I'm going to keep you company.”

“You're needed here, my friend.”

“I'm not going with you.” Binda led his horse behind the cart, tethered it beside Joseph's then climbed up on the bench beside him. “I'm coming as far as tonight takes us, then I will return to Wildu Creek.”

Joseph nodded at his friend and set the horse off in its steady forward motion again. He looked at Binda who was grinning back at him and a sense of relief flooded though Joseph. It certainly would be good to have company, even if only for one day.

William lay in bed listening to the soft sounds of Millie's tears. He had heard his father pull on his boots and try to leave quietly but the door squeaked and his boots creaked on the wooden verandah. William had wanted to go out and plead once more to be taken with him but he knew he wouldn't wear his father down on this. The goldfields were no place for children. William had baulked at that. He was twelve and in his mind a man but his father had insisted William's job was to stay behind with Millie and the children and help his grandfather as much as he could.

Robert snuffled and groaned in his sleep. William rolled over and stared at the wall. He felt it a terrible injustice that he should stay at home. Uncle Timothy and Uncle Binda were both here, they could help Grandpa and look after the family. Joseph had said he would be home again before Christmas. That was so far away, nearly nine months; it seemed a lifetime to William. He tossed and turned some more before finally getting up. All was quiet from Millie's room. Like him she would no doubt be thinking of the long time ahead of them without Joseph. William hoped perhaps she had gone back to sleep.

He pulled on his clothes and picked up his boots, letting himself out into the golden light of dawn. The air smelled fresh and was cool against his skin but he knew it wouldn't be long before the sun would be beating down on them again as it had relentlessly for months.

William moved away from the hut and then stopped. He put his hands to his hips and looked around. The shearers' quarters where they lived was a distance from the main house down by the creek. Except for the chatter of birds and the crow of Grandma's rooster there was little sound. He wondered how far away his father was already. He moved a few steps across the open ground to a group of gums and stopped again. He should go and see to the cows but his gaze drifted to the partly constructed building. His father had hardly done anything more to it since the earth tremor had weakened one of the shorter internal walls.

William crossed the space between the trees and the construction. He knew his father's vision for the house wasn't shared by everyone else in the family but William liked the idea. He stood in what would be the front door space and turned. From here you had a grand view down the gentle slope of the hill to the meandering creek and the plains. In the distance were the mountains, a pink haze in the morning light. This was only the first floor. Joseph had planned it so that one day there would be a second floor. Imagine the view from there, he'd said. William remembered the excitement in his father's voice.

He perched on the low front wall and poked at the dirt with his boot. Now his father wasn't here to build the walls higher and, even if he was, there was no money to pay for the doors and windows and someone to help them put them in. He ran his fingers along the rough stone. He had helped find the stones, mix the mortar and build the walls. Perhaps he could keep doing that. He stood up and turned around. The back walls against the hill needed building higher to hold back the dirt. The planks supporting the reinforced wall his father had fixed after the quake were still in place. He could use them to shore up the dirt.

He made up his mind then and there that this would be his job. When his father came home with enough gold to finish the house William would have kept it going up in the meantime. Warmth spread through him, not from the sun that was still low in the sky but from the thought of doing something useful and something that would make his father proud.

William's attention was drawn to the chicken yard beyond the new house. The rooster was carrying on as if something was amiss. William picked up a stick and hurried in that the direction.

He stopped in surprise when he saw Mary locking the gate on the chickens. She held a wire basket full of eggs. The rooster was on the other side of the gate, still making an awful racket.

Mary kicked the wooden gate. “Damn rooster. Millie says you might lose your head one day soon.”

William smiled. The rooster was particularly feisty and gave the women a hard time when they collected the eggs.

Mary turned. Her eyes widened as she noticed William watching her.

He cleared his throat. “You're up early.” Suddenly he felt as if he was spying.

“Need plenty of butter and eggs today.” She bent to pick up the metal milk bucket at her feet.

“Here, let me carry that for you.” He closed the distance between them in quick strides.

Mary's eyes widened a moment. She nodded, handed over the bucket and looked away.

“What are you going to make?”

“Millie's going to teach me how to make soft pastry like she does.” Mary glanced at him. “I want to be a good cook like her. One day I want to get a job, maybe a housekeeper.”

William saw the gleam in her eyes before she looked away again. He couldn't imagine Mary not being there to boss him around, although when he thought about it there'd been little of that for some time.

“Are you planning to leave?”

“Maybe … one day.”

They reached the little stone hut where she would separate the cream and make her butter. He put the bucket down.

“Thank you, William.” Mary gave him a quick smile.

“You're welcome, Mary.”

William turned to walk away then stopped and looked back. Mary had already disappeared inside the little shed. He realised she no longer annoyed him and he no longer resented her. Mary had been with them for as long as he could remember. It would be strange if she left and was no longer a part of their lives. Still, things were changing a lot.

The soft sound of singing came from the shed. William grinned and made his way back in the direction of the cow yard. There was a paling there that needed fixing. Like Mary he had plenty of work to do.

It had been a week since Joseph left home and his sixth day of travel alone. Binda had been a welcome companion at the start of his journey. When Joseph had declared he wanted to marry Millie the bond between the two men had been tested but Binda's reservations had long since disappeared and travelling together they had talked and joked like old times which had raised Joseph's spirits. He'd told Binda once more about the gold he hoped he'd find and what he'd do with it. Binda had put a hand to his forehead and declared he had a bad case of gold fever. Teasing aside, when they had parted company the next morning Joseph had been more in control of his feelings and full of anticipation for the job ahead.

Now, several days later, he'd reached the small settlement of Yunta, which was a hive of activity. Not only was it on the stock route but it was also a stop-off point for the gold fields as well as becoming a service town for the new railway. There were camel trains, wagons, horses and people moving along the rough road between the scattered buildings that made up the flat, dusty settlement.

Joseph found a place to leave his horses and cart not too far from the hotel. He decided he would buy himself a good feed. After today any meals would entail whatever he prepared from his supplies.

Inside, the small establishment was busy in spite of the early hour. Joseph ordered a big plate of bacon, eggs and potatoes and a pot of tea. He found a spot on the end of a bench at a long table. He nodded to the man opposite who returned the acknowledgment but didn't stop eating. The fellow's hair was long and lank, his clothes thin and tatty, and by the smell of him he hadn't bathed in a long while. He was mopping up his plate with such exuberance Joseph suspected it might also have been the first meal he'd had in a while.

Finally the man finished, his plate so clean it would hardly need a wash. He sat back, belched and smiled.

“That was the best tucker I've had in a long time.”

“Have you been on the road?”

“No mate. I'm just back from the mine.”

“Teetulpa?”

The fellow's eyes narrowed and he gave a sharp nod. “Where are you headed?”

“Teetulpa.”

The man eyed him closely again then got to his feet. “Good luck, mate.” He nodded, plucked a ragged hat from the seat beside him and hurried out the door.

“Miners, they don't like to talk much and Mad Mick even less than most.”

Joseph glanced at the man who was seated next to the place Mad Mick had vacated. He was of much tidier appearance, with a neatly clipped beard and dressed in working clothes but clean ones. Joseph offered his hand. “Joseph Baker.”

“Sam Rossiter.”

“You're not a miner then, Mr Rossiter?”

“No.” He gave a self-satisfied smile. “Railway is much more reliable. Wouldn't want to end up half-crazy like Mad Mick.”

“That would require hard work.”

Rossiter glared at the man opposite him who sat along further on the same bench as Joseph. “I work as hard as any man, Hegarty.”

Joseph's attention was drawn away by the arrival of his food. His stomach rumbled at the loaded plate.

“Enjoy it mate.” Rossiter hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “If you're headed out to Teetulpa you might not get a decent feed for a while. I hear the pubs out there are set up for liquid refreshments only.” He gave another of his smug smiles. “Which is for the best. Typhus seems to afflict those who drink the water. Three more men died of it just last month.”

Joseph paused, a forkful of bacon halfway to his mouth. Rufus Prosser had been one of those men.

“Don't take any notice of Sam.” Hegarty shook his head. He was broad across the shoulders with forearms like tree trunks. “I've worked for the government at Teetulpa. They employed fifty of us to dig a dam.” He puffed out his chest. “Finished it in ten days we did.”

“Pppph!” Sam showed his disgust. “Still not clean water, Hegarty.”

Hegarty thumped his hand on the table. “It is as of yesterday. The Water Conservation Department has just finished two condensers. They've started supplying fresh water to the fields.”

“That's good to know.” Joseph continued eating. There were many things packed in his cart but a big supply of water wasn't one of them. He had a barrel full and that was all. At least he could tell Millie. She was particularly worried about the water. He would write to her as soon as he was settled.

Sam climbed up from the bench. “Good luck, Baker.” He shook his head. “You'll need it.”

Hegarty looked around. There was only the two of them at this end of the table. He slid along the bench a little closer to Joseph.

“Sam Rossiter's not man enough to leave his job and go and search for gold for himself. He's envious of those that do and quick enough to fleece it from them in a card game when he can.” He held his hand out to Joseph, who stopped eating long enough to shake it. Hegarty's grip was firm. “Where are you from, Baker?”

“A property north-west of here near Hawker.”

“You know anything about prospecting?”