Poppy Comes Home Read online

  OUR AUSTRALIAN GIRL

  Poppy Comes Home

  Poppy, disguised as a lost princess from India, has joined a travelling medicine show. They’re about to enter the town of Beechworth, where her brother, Gus, told her he was heading months before. Poppy is so happy to think that she might find Gus at last! But when she follows the clues, they lead her to the cemetery. Gus couldn’t really be there, could he?

  Join Poppy in the final of four exciting stories about a Gold Rush girl who dreams of a better life.

  Puffin Books

  Our Australian Girl

  Poppy Comes Home

  GABRIELLE WANG

  With illustrations by Lucia Masciullo

  Puffin Books

  Contents

  THE STORY SO FAR

  1 Professor Cutpurse

  2 Princess Poppy

  3 The Betrayal

  4 Dog in the Moonlight

  5 In the Lockup

  6 Snowflake

  7 Little Girl Lost

  8 The Swap

  9 Little Gwion

  10 The White Mask

  11 The Vacant Grave

  12 Home

  I would like to thank the following people for their invaluable assistance: Koorie Elder, Uncle John Sandy Atkinson O.A.M.; Koorie Liaison Officer, State Library of Victoria, Maxine Briggs; Koorie Heritage Trust Librarian, Judy Williams.

  For Yullarah –

  the beautiful face of Poppy

  THE STORY SO FAR

  Poppy and her beloved dog Fisher have been searching for Poppy’s brother Gus for many months. Along the way they have dined with a bushranger, ridden the wild-eyed Gideon, travelled with a Chinese thief and found a real gold nugget! Now will Poppy’s journey lead her to Gus at last?

  1

  Professor Cutpurse

  A PINK river stone lay at Poppy’s feet. She kicked it and Fisher gave chase, deftly picking it up in his mouth while still on the run.

  ‘Clever boy, Fish,’ she said, as the dog came trotting back to her. He dropped the stone at her feet. Poppy was about to kick it again when she suddenly smelled the wonderful aroma of roasting meat.

  Fisher took off in the direction of the smell along a narrow track.

  ‘Come here, Fish!’ Poppy called. But it was no use. Whenever he smelt food, he would go back to his wild ways.

  Poppy was so glad she had met Fisher. He had been her constant companion on her journey to find her brother, Gus. She had been tracking Gus for two and a half months, and the trail led to Beechworth.

  Will he be here? Poppy wondered. And will the gold nugget, the one that old Murray Cod gave me, be worth enough to build a home? Poppy was so scared of losing it, she had wrapped it in a piece of old cloth and tied it on a string to hang around her neck under her shirt. Poppy also still had the Chinese letter from her father, which Jimmy Ah Kew had translated for her. She hoped one day her family could be together again. These were the thoughts that played across her mind.

  Poppy ran after Fisher. As she rounded a bend in the track, she saw a colourful wooden wagon covered with words: ‘Holloways Pills and Ointments’, ‘Your Future Read’ and ‘Teeth Extracted’. From the wagon, a tarpaulin was stretched out, with ropes tied between two trees, to form a covered area. And under the canvas was an empty chair and a low table made of a thin plank set on two logs. A horse grazed nearby, craning its neck to bite the top of a weed.

  A little distance away a fire burned. Two rabbits cooked on a spit over red coals. This was where the delicious smell was coming from.

  As Poppy was wondering who the wagon belonged to, a tall man with long shoulder-length hair and a thick moustache that curled up at the ends came around the corner of the carriage. He was carrying a tin plate.

  ‘Well, what do we have here?’ he said. ‘What’s yer name, my boy?’

  Poppy heard Fisher growling softly behind her. She turned, and he was looking fixedly at the man.

  ‘Now, now,’ said the man, ‘that ain’t friendly-like, ‘specially as I was just fixin’ to offer you some o‘ this here roast rabbit. Too much for me, anyways.’

  He had a funny accent, Poppy thought. Not quite Irish, but definitely not English. Meanwhile, her mouth watered for that rabbit. Strange, here she was, rich with gold, but still hungry.

  ‘What’s the matter, kid? Cat got yer tongue?’

  ‘Uh, no. Sorry. My name is Kal. And this …’ Poppy turned around, ‘ … is my dog, Fisher.’

  ‘Fisher, eh? Mighty fine dog. Bet he’s worth a bit.’ The man walked toward Fisher, extending his hand slowly. Fisher backed away, baring his teeth and growling some more.

  ‘Fisher, don’t be rude,’ Poppy hissed. ‘Sorry, Mister, he’s usually fine with strangers.’

  ‘Don’t bother me none,’ the man said. ‘Like as not he’s pickin’ up the scent o’ this here patent medicine I been brewin’.’ He reached into the wagon and showed her a bottle with a hand-drawn label. ‘Cutpurse’s Cure-all. Fixes everythin’ from snakebite to bankruptcy,’ the man said with a wide grin.

  ‘Oh, so you’re a doctor?’ Poppy said, thinking of Dr Lin from Wahgunyah and all the bottles and pouches of herbs he had kept in his shop.

  ‘Doctor? I’m not just a doctor, I’m a Professor!’ The man drew himself up, stuck out his chest, threw out his arm and declaimed, ‘Professor Cutpurse, famous from Nantucket to Nashville, well-known from Paris to Pensacola, fresh from a tour of Europe, now bringin’ health and happiness to these here goldfields. At your service.’ As he said the last words he bowed regally, sweeping his right arm up and then down across his chest, as if he had swept off a hat with a flourish.

  Poppy looked at him with surprise. In those few words the man’s whole demeanour had changed. Even his voice sounded different. Poppy glanced back at Fisher. The dog had sat down with his mouth open and tongue lolling, looking at the man. Then Fisher’s eyebrows lifted and he shifted his eyes to look at Poppy.

  ‘So tell me, young man. What talents do you possess?’ Professor Cutpurse said, still using a professorial voice.

  ‘None, sir.’

  ‘Impossible. You must be able to do somethin’. You can juggle, surely?’

  ‘Um, no, sir.’

  ‘Dance, then? Hornpipe? Buck dance?’

  ‘No, sir. Sorry, sir.’

  Professor Cutpurse’s eyes widened. ‘Why, you astonish me. What about singin’? Surely you can sing. Even a bird can do that.’

  Poppy had never thought of singing as a talent. It was just something she did. ‘Yes, sir, I can sing, some.’

  ‘Let’s hear you then. And after that, some tasty rabbit.’

  ‘My voice … it’s as rusty as old nails, sir,’ she said.

  ‘Never mind that,’ the Professor said. ‘Go on now, lad. Don’t be shy.’

  So Poppy stood in front of Professor Cutpurse and sang The Bellbird Song, and afterwards the man applauded, then made her sit down by the fire. He relaxed back into his normal speaking voice.

  ‘Kid, you got a great voice. It’s high like a girl’s, ain’t broke yet, that’s good. Exactly what I need for the show… if you want to travel with us fer a bit, I mean. I can guarantee food, most times, fer you and yer dog there, and you can sleep under the wagon.’

  Poppy was busy by now, chewing a delicious roast rabbit leg, but she spoke between mouthfuls. ‘Sorry, sir, but I have to find my brother. I’ve been looking for him for months. I think he’s in Beechworth.’

  ‘Well, if he’s in Beechworth, you can bet he’ll be comin’ to our show. My boys are puttin’ up the posters right now. The whole town will turn out fer it. No siree, you can bet your boots he’ll be there, if he’s within a hundred miles.’

  Poppy considered this. The idea made sense. But
what would she have to do?

  Professor Cutpurse explained that the show provided entertainment to gather a crowd, then, in between acts, they sold things, like his patent medicine. ‘I’ll pay you well … and I have the perfect part for you to play. Do you want to hear it?’

  Poppy nodded.

  The Professor took a drink from a bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Now here’s the bit you mightn’t like too much. I want to dress you up like a girl, a princess, in fact, a princess from India.’

  Poppy pretended to scowl. ‘I can’t dress up like a girl, Professor.’ But inside she was smiling. If only Noni from Summerhill was here! She’d laugh so hard.

  ‘And I want you to sing the same song, but don’t use the words, just make up sounds. Pretend that you’re singin’ Indian. You got me?’

  Poppy nodded. That didn’t seem too hard. And the idea of being paid for something she loved to do made her smile.

  As they finished the rabbits, even Fisher looked happy. Sitting back, full and satisfied, the Professor told Poppy more about their show. He had two helpers who went into town and put up advertising posters, whipping up excitement. They also helped sell the bottles of medicine. ‘We do more than sing and dance and juggle,’ the Professor said. ‘Sometimes I tell fortunes or pull teeth. There’s always someone with a bad tooth. Why, once I pulled sixteen teeth in the course of one hour. Used to wear them like a necklace. Completely painless.’ He smiled. ‘Leastwise, no one can hear them scream. I have one of the boys blow a big trumpet when I’m doin’ the extraction.’

  Poppy felt sick to her stomach.

  ‘Anyways, nothin’ quite so entertainin’ as seein’ someone else suffer, don’t ya know. Folks will line up for that, every time.’

  Poppy frowned. The Professor said he was more than a doctor, but he didn’t sound like a doctor. Poppy knew what a real doctor was. She had seen Dr Lin, and how he cared for his patients. She had seen Tom and what he had done to heal her. Professor Cutpurse didn’t sound like he cared at all.

  ‘It’s all part of the show,’ the Professor finished up, grinning at her. ‘Greatest lil’ ol’ show around these parts.’

  2

  Princess Poppy

  THAT night, Poppy met Professor Cutpurse’s two helpers, Raven and Fox. Raven had a thick black beard and Fox’s hair was red. No wonder they were given those nicknames, she thought with a smile. The two men put together costumes for Poppy and Fisher and teased her about how pretty she would be dressed as an Indian princess. Both of them, of course, thought she was a boy. Poppy pretended to be embarrassed.

  As Fox chuckled, Raven said, ‘I remember the time when old Fox here had to dress up as an old washerwoman. With that big beard he looked a sight. The audience were bent over with laughing. Put it this way, Kal, we’re actors and that’s what actors do.’

  ‘Well, I can’t say I like dressing up like that, but it’s for the show,’ said Poppy. ‘What do you two do?’

  ‘Anything the Prof fancies,’ said Fox. ‘Acrobatics, juggling, short plays, painting scenery, fixing stuff. We entertain while he sells his potions. But none of us can sing as good as you.’

  Poppy smiled proudly.

  The next day was spent rehearsing and Poppy practised The Bellbird Song using made-up words. Later, over dinner, which was crowned by a large Redfin perch delivered by Fisher out of a local creek, the Professor started to talk about his past. ‘I came here to Australia last year, because of the war,’ he said.

  ‘What war?’ Poppy asked, crunching on the fish’s tail.

  ‘The war in America, between the North and the South. It was bad for business. Well, my business, anyways. Couldn’t travel freely.’ He took a sip from his cup.

  Poppy caught a whiff of whiskey. Last time she had smelt that had been on the barge when she had hitched a ride on a paddlesteamer.

  ‘I don’t know who is goin’ to win, but I’ll wager old Abe Lincoln thinks he’s pretty darn smart, freein’ the slaves and all.’

  Poppy was just going to ask about the slaves, when a thought struck her. ‘Didn’t you say you had just finished a tour in Europe?’ she asked the Professor.

  Raven and Fox sniggered, but stopped when he shot them a look. He stood up grandly with a sweep of his cloak, and when he spoke he used his professorial voice again. ‘You are more intelligent than you seem, young man. Of course, the tour intervened between my departure from North America and my arrival in Sydney. Several of the crowned heads of Europe desired my counsel.’ The Professor wrapped his cloak around himself, then said, ‘Raven, Fox, let’s clean up here. Kal, better get some sleep. Tomorrow’s your big day.’

  Poppy woke to a bright and windy morning. Raven and Fox were nowhere to be seen, but she heard the clinking of bottles coming from behind the wagon. There she found Professor Cutpurse holding a little brown glass bottle up to the light.

  ‘Ah, Kal, my boy. Looky here at our liquid gold.’ He handed the bottle to Poppy.

  She took a sniff. ‘Yeuch! What’s in it?’ she asked, grimacing.

  ‘Why, this here’s the true fruit of nature’s goodness,’ the Professor said. Then he whispered to her. ‘Mainly alcohol, flavourin’, sugar and a touch of opium.’ He laughed. ‘Many lil’ ol’ ladies who would never touch a drop of grog at the hotel will happily have a dose or two of “medicine” each night.’

  Poppy frowned. ‘I thought you said it cured illness.’

  ‘I said “good fer everythin’ from snakebite to bankruptcy”. I ain’t so sure about the snakebite, but it’s darn good at preventin’ my bankruptcy. Now, stop askin’ so many questions.’

  The Professor might be joking, but this did not seem anything like the real healing medicine she had seen Dr Lin use, each remedy designed for the person who needed it, designed to heal. This looked like nothing but a way to make money.

  ‘Hurry up and get yer stuff together,’ the Professor said. ‘We’ll be headin’ into town as soon as we pack up the wagon.’

  Poppy was no longer sure about the job. The Professor tricked people and that gave her a bad feeling in her stomach. But if she stayed with him until his show in Beechworth, then she might see Gus.

  They jolted along the bumpy road for several miles and stopped in a clearing. Professor Cutpurse and Raven jumped down and went to the back of the wagon.

  ‘Beechworth is just round the bend,’ Fox said, smiling at Poppy. ‘We gotta get dressed for our grand-parade entrance into town.’

  They all began dressing up. Professor Cutpurse put on a tall stovepipe hat and a voluminous black cape. Raven dressed in clothing made entirely of different coloured patches, and he donned a black mask that had raised eyebrows on it. Fox wore baggy white trousers and a shirt, and his face was covered with white powder. And Fisher had on a red felt hat and red felt cape with purple embroidery that he wore without a fuss.

  Poppy liked her Indian princess costume. A red dress with gold trimming, and a sort of see-through shawl that went over one shoulder, plus several necklaces, bracelets and even a bracelet with bells that went around her ankle. On her head she wore a red veil to cover her short hair. And over the veil was a string of pearls, holding it down. She had red spots of rouge on each cheek, and a little dot of red right in the middle of her forehead. When she looked in the small mirror inside the wagon, she hardly recognised herself. It was the face of a beautiful princess, just like in the books she had read in Mother Hangtree’s library. As she stepped outside, she hid her feeling of excitement and put on a swagger.

  ‘Don’t walk like that, Kal!’ Professor Cutpurse said. ‘You are meant to be a girl, remember? Everybody, ready? Let’s go!’ The Professor cracked his whip, the horse lurched against its halter, and the wagon creaked into motion.

  As they passed the newly built prison and the first outbuildings of Beechworth, Fox, marching out in front, began beating a large bass drum. Little kids ran up to watch, some standing and gaping, others running off to call their friends. Adults came out
of their houses. Raven blew a golden trumpet. A crowd gathered and began to follow them down the street.

  Flares placed on either side of the wagon seat burst into flames, and the horse snorted and whinnied. Behind the wagon, Poppy skipped from side to side, tossing coloured confetti and wrapped sweets out of a basket into the crowd. Children dived for the sweets. Fisher trotted along beside her, barking from time to time. As she skipped back and forth, Poppy looked out for Gus. Wouldn’t he laugh to see her now!

  They stopped at a wide empty space between two buildings and quickly unfolded a large stage from the side of the wagon. Fox and Raven leapt onto the stage, carrying the flares and setting them into holders at each end. Poppy took the place she had been assigned, standing at the back of the platform, off to the left.

  Professor Cutpurse strode forth, swirling his cape, doffing his hat and making a grand bow to the crowd that stood before them. All kinds of people had gathered – well-groomed ladies and gentlemen in their fine clothes, gold diggers back from a hard early-morning shift at the mine, and lots of children. Fox had also advertised the show at the Chinese camp up on the hill that overlooked Beechworth, and now groups of Chinese men stood at the back chatting to each other.

  ‘Welcome, welcome to the Amazing Travelling Medicine Show!’ Professor Cutpurse boomed. The crowd was growing as people joined from the back, jostling everyone forward.

  Fox cartwheeled across the stage behind the Professor. Poppy could feel the excitement grow in the audience.

  ‘What we bring you today will be nothin’ short of spectacular! Fresh from the kingdoms of Europe and Russia! Miracles of the healin’ art, gleaned from ancient India, secrets told to me by an Indian princess in gratitude after I saved her from pirates in the Straits of Malacca.’ He gestured to Poppy, who twirled around the stage in her red dress, clanging little hand cymbals as she danced.