Letty on the Land Read online

‘He would,’ said Clem. ‘He’s a law-and-order man.’ He hugged Mary to his side. ‘I’ll look after you.’

  ‘You look after me!’ said Harry fiercely.

  ‘Men don’t need looking after,’ said Clem. ‘You look after your sister.’

  ‘No!’ said Harry. He squirmed away into the back of the cart. Mary looked sad.

  ‘What’s a bushranger?’ Letty asked.

  ‘Mostly escaped convicts, gone bush,’ said Mary. ‘They steal from decent folk.’

  ‘They’re either stupid or lazy,’ commented Clem. ‘They’re better off working their time with their employers. Then they’d be free men.’

  ‘I’m a bushranger,’ Harry piped up. He levelled two fingers at Letty and Victoria and pretended to shoot. ‘Pow! Pow!’

  ‘What have you been teaching him, Clem?’ Mary demanded.

  ‘Nothing, I swear. He just needs a mother’s touch.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Mary.

  Letty also had doubts. Harry did not look as if he wanted a mother’s touch, and certainly not Letty’s.

  That night, the Greys and Letty rolled themselves in blankets and slept under the cart.

  Letty was still bone-tired next morning when she got back on the vehicle. She was tired of travelling and tired of being cold. She was getting tired of Harry pushing her away, too. She wanted to like him, but he wouldn’t let her.

  To cheer herself up, she began to imagine what the Greys’ home would be like. Her bedroom probably wouldn’t have flowery wallpaper like Lavinia’s did in Sydney. Clem was not a flowery person, she thought. Perhaps it had patterned tiles like George Fry’s house in the Rocks … Letty fell asleep with her head on Mary’s shoulder.

  She woke to Clem calling, ‘All out!’

  Harry sat bolt upright. ‘Is it bushrangers?’

  ‘Not on your nelly. We’ve reached the hill down to the river,’ Clem explained. ‘It’s a steep one – safer if you hop down.’

  Clem made Harry hold Letty’s hand. The little boy’s grasp was warm, though he kept dragging his feet and yanking on Letty’s arm. They walked behind the cart. Except for Clem, who walked beside it with one hand on the brake.

  The track zigzagged down a steep slope into a gully. Tall trees grew on one side. On the opposite slope was a cliff of massive orange rocks.

  As she looked across, Letty’s boots slipped on the loose stones underfoot. At the same time, Harry pulled her sideways. Letty grabbed for the cart with her free hand. She steadied for a second, but then the cart jerked forward. Letty’s feet went from under her. She slid forward beneath the cart, pulling Harry with her.

  ‘Whoa!’ yelled Clem, jamming on the cart brake. His shout bounced off the stone cliff-face. The cart came to a sudden halt. Letty and Harry crawled out from underneath. Letty tried to brush the yellow dust from their grazed knees, but Harry ran crying to his father.

  ‘Don’t do that!’ Clem ordered Letty. ‘You’ll both get dragged under the wheels.’

  Letty winced. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be hard on her’, said Mary. ‘She didn’t know.’

  ‘No,’ said Clem stiffly. ‘She’s only a child.’

  Mary pursed her lips. Letty could see her going away inside herself, like she had when she was sick.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Clem. ‘The bush is hard on womenfolk. I forget that.’

  ‘Hup!’ he called to the horse.The cart rattled forward.

  By the time they got to the bottom, Letty’s muscles were tight and her knees shook. She could barely scramble onto the cart to ford the river.

  As soon as they were across, Clem made them pile out again for the climb up the other side. The horse dipped his head and blew out in loud snorts as he hauled upwards. Letty struggled to keep up. She wondered how much help she was going to be to the Greys. Maybe Harry was right not to trust her. She didn’t really know about life on the land.

  Finally the trees thinned out and they mounted a crest.

  ‘Ah,’ said Mary.

  Letty stopped. It seemed to her that they had reached the top of the world. She stood on a long ridge. Grassy hills dropped away on either side. Beyond that, an ocean of indigo mountains rippled to the horizon. The wind was so strong and fresh she held out her arms like wings and let it blow over her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Harry asked. Letty realised that was the first time he had spoken to her. He looked up at her with hopeful blue eyes.

  Letty felt Mary watching her as well. She dropped her arms. Servant girls were too old to play, she supposed. ‘Well, nothing,’ she said.

  ‘Uh.’ Harry lost interest, as if she’d said the wrong thing. He ran off in the direction of some huts on the ridge.

  ‘Come back!’ Letty called. Harry didn’t listen.

  ‘No need,’ said Mary. ‘That’s home.’

  Letty stared. When Mary had talked about the ‘homestead’ on the way here, Letty thought the word had a comfortable, solid-brick sound to it. She hadn’t imagined it could be this – a few windswept fruit trees and a scattering of timber sheds. The huts looked as if they had grown onto the hillside like barnacles.

  Letty followed the Greys across a paddock, past the sheep yards and a rough shelter that Clem said was ‘shearers quarters’.The main house was not much bigger. It was roofed with long strips of bark, which sloped over the verandah like a fringe in need of trimming. As Letty stepped inside the house, she saw chinks of light between the tree trunks of its walls.

  ‘See, I cut new roof bark to keep the baby dry.’ Clem’s head nearly touched the ceiling, which was made of old sacks. ‘And we’ve got three rooms now,’ he pointed out. ‘I divided the bedroom in half and built a bed for Harry and Letty to share.’

  Harry folded his arms and stuck out his bottom lip. Letty wished she was sharing with Victoria instead.

  The new bed was a piece of canvas cloth, tied across a frame of logs and rope. The dividing wall for Letty and Harry’s room was made from woven sticks, and didn’t reach the roof. Wallpaper belonged to another realm. Letty felt silly for even dreaming of it.

  ‘This isn’t what you expected?’ Mary said.

  Letty swallowed. ‘Not exactly,’ she admitted.

  ‘You ladies can make it homely. I’m glad to have you here.’ Clem smiled.

  Letty wasn’t sure that she was glad. But she was here now, and there was no going back alone on the long, rough road to Sydney.

  CLEM was already pulling on his boots when Letty woke in the morning. Mary had Victoria on her hip. Letty felt guilty for being asleep while others were busy.

  Harry was squatting by the fireplace, trying to poke a caterpillar away from the fire. Clem stepped over him and took a long stockwhip off its hook.

  ‘I’m off to find Hogan and the darkie,’ Clem said. ‘I want to bring up the mobs to dip them.’

  Letty had no idea what Clem meant.

  But Harry did. ‘Wait!’ he called to his father.

  Mary reached out a hand. ‘Stay here with us.’

  ‘No!’ Harry bolted out the door. Through the little window, Letty saw Clem put him in the saddle. They rode off together.

  ‘He’s not used to us,’ Mary said.

  Letty felt it was more than that. Harry clearly did not like her, for no reason she could work out.

  Over the next few days she saw very little of him. Clem was busy out on the land with the shepherds, and Harry went everywhere with them. Every time Harry came back to the house in the evenings, he looked at Mary, then Letty, from under his eyebrows. ‘Haven’t you left yet?’ he’d say.

  At first Mary answered with a kiss and ‘Don’t be silly.’ Later she just told him to wash his hands. He was a funny little child, it seemed to Letty. He followed the men around like a lost lamb, and just like the lambs he was hard to get near. Letty wished he was as cuddly as Victoria, or her own little brother. Since he doesn’t want me, thought Letty, feeling frustrated and a bit annoyed, I’ll look after Victoria instead.

 
Letty soon discovered that only Victoria had all day to spend smiling here.There seemed to be so much work to do on a farm, and no time to just be friends. Mary never even got out her lace.

  One afternoon, Mary took the tinder box from one of the wooden crates that were stacked side-on to make cupboards. ‘Can you get the fire going? And keep an eye onVictoria, while I fetch water?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ said Letty. She kissed the baby girl’s round cheeks and put her in the box that served as her cradle.

  Letty took out the flint for making sparks and the tinder for catching them. Although Letty had watched fires lit many times, at home it had always been Lavinia’s job.

  ‘Do you think I can do this?’ Letty asked Victoria.

  ‘Aaaa,’ Victoria cooed. She waved her fists encouragingly in the air.

  Letty laughed. ‘Then here goes …’ She chipped the flint gently against the steel. A tiny spark blinked out, before the tinder had time to catch.

  ‘I think I have to do it harder,’ Letty said. Victoria fixed her eyes on Letty and kicked cheerfully.

  Letty struck the steel. A shower of sparks fizzed outwards. One flew into Letty’s hair and another over her head. Letty swatted at her hair.

  Victoria screamed. Her small hands jerked.

  ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Letty dropped the flint and cuddled Victoria to her. But the little girl kept wailing. Letty smelled burnt cloth. She looked more closely. There was a singed hole in one of Victoria’s sleeves. Inside, on her china-white wrist, was a bright-red mark.

  ‘What have I done?’ Letty exclaimed. She kissed the hot red spot over and over, but it only made Victoria cry more.

  ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ Letty sobbed, when Mary came back. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt her. The sparks flew so far!’

  Mary hugged Victoria tight. ‘Shhh,’ she soothed. ‘That’s enough now,’ she said abruptly to Letty. ‘Go get some kindling. I can’t stand two of you crying.’

  Letty went outside and wandered over the paddocks. She felt like leaving – like running over the mountains all the way back to Sydney. The wind blew cold on her wet cheeks. Off on the far hill she could see the Aboriginal shepherd, watching the ewes. She ignored him and walked with her eyes on the ground, collecting an armful of sticks. Get better fast, baby girl, please get better, she wished over and over. She vowed she would make up for her mistake.

  She didn’t notice the white man walking along the sheep track until his dog growled.

  ‘Blinder than an old woman, are ye?’ The man crossed his wiry arms and glared at her. ‘Or maybe yer a city minx, afraid to step in sheep muck? Ha!’

  The man was lean as a stockwhip, with a cracking laugh. He was probably younger than Clem, but it was hard to tell beneath his bristly beard.

  Letty took a step back.

  ‘We’re only jokin’,’ said the man. ‘Nothing to be uppish about.’

  Letty didn’t think she was being ‘uppish’. She was only startled.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘You want proper introductions? I’m Hogan. Herder of sheep, back-paddock loner, arse for kicking. Not one of yer flash squatter coves.’ He tipped the battered brim of his hat toward her mockingly.

  Hogan’s clothes were as rough as his talk. His trousers were stiff with years of grime. Even so, Letty could see that they had odd marks on them, like bird’s feet.

  ‘What ye staring at?’ Hogan said. ‘Don’t like my Devil’s prints, huh? These government slops offend yer fashion sense, I suppose.’

  ‘Government slops?’ said Letty. She tensed as Hogan’s dog came and sniffed around her skirt.

  Hogan laughed again, and didn’t call off his dog. ‘Prison uniform,’ he said. ‘So everyone know’s who’s who.’

  So Hogan was a convict, Letty realised – a transported criminal! She thought they were kept in chains, not wandering around loose. She took another step back.

  ‘Ye better get used to me jokin’,’ said Hogan. ‘I know my place, well enough. But I know yours, too. You’re the servant girl. There’s no call for nice manners.’

  Hogan gave a piercing whistle that made Letty jump.The dog returned to his heels.

  ‘Good day,’ said Letty, who couldn’t help being polite, especially when she was nervous.

  She was glad to turn around and scurry up the hill, not stopping for breath until Hogan was out of sight.

  Once up the ridge, Letty paused to gather herself and her wood together. She noticed how the sky was the deepest blue she’d ever seen. It was so deep, she could almost fall in and float away. All the way back to her family and her best friend.

  Letty wished Abner was there to share the deep sky with. He would understand. She wished Lavinia was closer, too – she would know what to say to Hogan. But here in the bush Letty had no one like that.

  BACK in the house, Mary was still not happy. Neither was anyone else, after Victoria whimpered all night, because of the burn.

  Clem got up even earlier than usual. ‘Hogan and I are going to put the flock through the creek,’ Letty heard him tell Mary. Letty was still buttoning her dress in the bedroom. Harry was already outside, hitting a stick against the fence.

  ‘You’ll get sick, standing in the water for hours on end,’ Mary said. ‘Do you have to?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Clem. ‘I want the sheep clean. Some blokes are coming for the shearing soon, once they’ve done the Macarthur place.’ Clem dropped his voice. ‘If Letty was older –’

  ‘Don’t say it,’ said Mary.

  Say what? Letty thought immediately. That if she was older she might do a better job?

  But when Clem spoke again, it was about something different. ‘You know what would be nice, Mary? Hot rabbit pie for lunch. What do you say? I’ll fix a big fat bunny now. And keep the little tacker with you – the creek’s deep.’

  Clem went off with his sharp knife to the rabbit hutch. Letty tried not to think about the rabbits. She knew everyone worked long days and they had to eat.

  At last, Victoria fell asleep in Mary’s arms. Mary laid her down, then jointed the rabbit. The shadows under Mary’s eyes were as black as her unbrushed hair. She was getting that look she’d had when Letty first knew her. It was as if Mary was nearing some dark edge, beyond which she was out of reach.

  ‘Go out,’ she said. ‘I don’t want company.’

  Letty didn’t want to be a nuisance. She went into the front yard to keep an eye on Harry.

  ‘Do you want to play a game?’ she asked him.

  He looked at her sideways. ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Hold out your hands.’ Letty taught him the clapping rhymes she knew. At first he liked it, but then he got the words mixed up and started hitting her palms as hard as he could.

  ‘Not like that. Be a good boy,’ said Letty.

  Harry frowned. ‘I’m not going to do what you say,’ he said. He darted off under the fence.

  It was no use, Letty decided. She tried to look after Harry, but what more could she do? The more she chased him, the further he’d run. Letty turned back to the house instead.

  ‘Mary, could I do the pie for you?’ she offered.

  Mary hesitated.

  ‘Please?’ Letty was anxious to be of use.

  ‘All right. Put in some rosemary for flavour,’ Mary instructed. ‘That’s the bush with blue flowers by the front steps.’ She went to lie down in her bedroom.

  Letty knew what to do, more or less. She opened the oven, and built a pile of kindling inside it. She took out the tinder box. Letty kept thinking of Mary, behind the curtain. Mary would hear if Letty took a long time to strike a flame. After yesterday’s mishap, Letty really wanted to succeed.

  On the first go, she was so nervous that she missed the steel. Letty held her breath. She struck again. This time the steel sparked. Letty caught a spark in the tinder and carried it to the oven. She blew on the smouldering twigs until she had a clean golden flame.

  She’d done it!
Letty admired her fire with pride – until it began to die. The room started filling with smoke. What am I doing wrong? she thought. She choked back a cough, so the noise wouldn’t alert Mary. Then her eyes fell on the lever at the side of the fireplace. That was it! She had to open the chimney.

  With a little more blowing and poking, Letty had a blaze crackling inside. She put the rabbit pieces in the iron pot and added some water.

  Outside, Letty discovered there were two bushes on either side of the front steps, both with bluey-purple flowers. One was dark green and spiky. It didn’t look very edible. The other was soft and silvery. Which one was rosemary? Letty didn’t know for sure. She’d have to ask.

  Mary was sleeping, curled around Victoria. Letty hesitated. She ought to ask. But then, she ought to know herself.

  Letty went and had another look at the bushes. It must be the silver one, she decided. Rosemary was such a pretty name – no one would give it to the bristling bush. The silver leaves of the other plant had a familiar fragrance – of summer and flowers and bees. Letty couldn’t think why she had a sudden picture in her head of Lavinia, swirling around in pretty summer skirts.

  Letty broke off a sprig of silver leaves and put the herb in the pot with the meat. She put the lid on, and set the pot in front of the fire.

  Then she gasped. With all her worrying about the rosemary, she’d nearly forgotten salt. Letty took one of the tins from the cupboard, and added a heaped spoonful. The meat wouldn’t have tasted much without that.

  Letty gave the boiling stew an occasional stir while she made a damper lid for the pie. Just for fun, she made pastry leaves to decorate the top, the way she’d seen George do in the bakery. She got a small burn on her hand pouring the meat into the pie dish. But it was worth it, to smell that pie and see it look so good.

  Mary was impressed when she came out. So were the men, when Letty carried the pie down to the creek.

  The sodden ewes turned their chomping heads to stare at Mary and Letty, as if amazed that people ate anything other than grass.

  ‘Well done, Mary.’ Clem stamped his cold feet and blew on his hands. He and Hogan were halfway through dunking the sheep in the dammed-up water. The black shepherd was away, keeping the rams separate.