The River Charm (15 page)

Charlotte felt exhilarated and curious. ‘What do you think the dance of the skeletons was meant to signify?' she asked. ‘It was eerie and strange, but also beautiful.'

Mamma sighed and picked up Louisa. ‘It seemed to be a lament for the dead,' she guessed. ‘Sadly, so many Aborigines have died in recent years from disease and violence and drinking the white man's rum. I fear the Aborigines have suffered much since the English have settled here.'

 

 

16

Letters

 

Budgong, Autumn 1840

A call of ‘cooee!' rang out through the valley. The four children were sitting on the verandah in the late afternoon, reading books, and looked up to see the familiar figure of Mr Ash galloping up the green slope, followed by two packhorses on lead reins.

‘Mamma,' James called through the open hut door. ‘Mr Ash has returned.'

Mr Ash had ridden to Berrima several days ago to fetch the post and supplies. Mamma had written to the executors again, begging them to pay her the allowance from the estate and asking if they could return to Oldbury now that Mr Barton had finally been prevailed upon to leave. Mamma had asked Mr Ash to stay in Berrima until he received a reply.

Everyone ran to greet him with great excitement. They had run out of tea and sugar many days ago and were almost out of flour. Worse than that, they were starved of news from the big world outside their tiny valley.

Mr Ash rode up with a grin, lifting his hat and calling out greetings to them all.

Mamma ran out of the hut, drying her hands on her apron. Mr Ash was no sooner out of the saddle than Mamma had grabbed the pile of letters he offered her.

‘Thank you, Mr Ash.' Mamma collapsed into a chair on the verandah, flipping eagerly through the letters. ‘Charlotte, Mr Ash must be parched. Could you make us all a cup of tea from the new supplies, if you please? Emily, could you cut some bread and butter for us?'

Emily and Charlotte went inside as they were told. Through the open door, the girls could hear Mamma chattering to James and Louisa about the content of the letters.

‘This one is from my sister Jane in London. She has sent me some sketches of Queen Victoria. Apparently the Queen married her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg, in February. Is she not beautiful? Jane says they are deeply in love and much respected by the people.'

Charlotte and Emily popped their head around the door, curious to see. Mamma brandished some sketches that had been cut from a London newspaper several months ago with news of the Queen's engagement. The diminutive young Queen was shown dressed in an array of riding habits, day dresses and evening gowns that she had worn during the Prince's state visit. Of course, the letter was sent when the wedding was still months off.

‘Oh, I love that white satin dress,' Emily said, peering over Mamma's shoulder. ‘It says it is trimmed with a wide, blue velvet ribbon and Honiton lace.'

James was more interested in the sketch of the Prince in his ceremonial German uniform, with its gold braid and dress sword.

Mamma checked the next letter. ‘There's also a letter from Elizabeth Macarthur, one of the lovely girls to whom I was governess before my marriage. I will read that one later.'

Charlotte carried out the tea tray. Mr Ash had unsaddled the horses and unpacked the new supplies, placing them in the small storeroom at the back of the hut.

‘I'm sorry, ma'am, but I couldn't get everything you asked for,' Mr Ash apologised.

‘No?' Mamma said with a frown. ‘Was the store in Berrima out of stock of something?'

‘Not exactly,' replied Mr Ash, looking discomfited. ‘The store would not let me have anything more on credit. He said the last bill is still unpaid. I could get neither the new boots for Master James nor the dress material you wanted. I decided it was best to buy food supplies.'

‘Oh,' Mamma replied, not looking at Mr Ash. ‘I see. Well, thank you – I am sure you did your best.'

Mr Ash took his cup of tea and wandered out of earshot to give Mamma privacy. Mamma opened the last letter with a worried expression. She scanned the page then crumpled it up and threw it across the verandah floor in vexation.

‘
Oh
,' she harrumphed. ‘I cannot believe it.'

‘Is everything all right, Mamma?' Charlotte asked, pouring a cup of tea for James.

‘It is the
executors
,' Mamma explained, her voice emphasising her disgust. ‘They still will not pay me any allowance. How am I supposed to feed you and clothe you with absolutely no money? They say that due to my “peculiar circumstances” and rash flight from my “lawful husband”, they cannot see fit to pay me my own money!'

Mamma's voice rose with anger and frustration. Charlotte's heart sank. The dreaded executors always made Mamma furious. ‘When we were at Oldbury, they were constantly writing to me, telling me to protect you from Mr Barton's improvidence and idleness,' she cried. ‘Now that we have fled from him, they accuse me of rashness and indecorum. I suppose they would rather I maintained my respectability but risked our very lives by living with a raving lunatic?'

Mamma picked up the crumpled, offending letter and flung it in the fire. She watched the paper curl and burst into flame and took a deep breath.

‘They also condescend to inform me that Oldbury has been let to a Mr Thomas Bott Humphery and his family,' Mamma added in a low voice. ‘Apparently he has negotiated a lower rent for the estate, due to the uncertain financial climate. The executors tell me that the current economic depression in the colony has made our financial situation even more difficult. The tenant, Mr Humphery, has taken possession of the house and land. We cannot go back to Oldbury.'

The four children looked at each other with concern.

It is done
, Charlotte thought.
Our home is inhabited by strangers.
There is no going back
.

 

That evening, they sat down to their usual Budgong meal of salt beef, damper, salad and tea. Charlotte didn't feel hungry and pushed her food around with her knife and fork. Mamma was still fuming, her forehead furrowed. She suddenly noticed that Charlotte had not eaten.

‘Are you not well, Charlotte?' asked Mamma. ‘You are not eating.'

‘I'm not very hungry,' Charlotte confessed, her stomach knotted with tension.

‘You must eat!' snapped Mamma, her voice unusually harsh. ‘I know that our meals here are not as fine and varied as the baked fowl and roast pork we ate at Oldbury, but at least we
do
have food to eat. We have hens for eggs, we have cattle for beef and milk and butter, we grow a few vegetables, and for the moment we have flour. Do not sneer at the bread I put on our table – at least that
is
something.'

‘But Mamma,' Charlotte began, her voice raised defensively, ‘I'm not sneering. I just –'

Mamma started to cry, burying her face in her apron. Louisa climbed onto her lap, thumb in mouth. Emily jumped up and hugged Mamma around the shoulders. James glared at Charlotte.

‘I am so sorry, Charlotte,' Mamma apologised, wiping her eyes. ‘I should not have snapped at you. It is just that I do not know what we are to do . . .'

‘It is all right, Mamma,' Charlotte replied soothingly. ‘I am sorry too.'

Charlotte forced herself to eat the salty, preserved beef, each morsel sticking in her throat.
It is not fair
, she thought.
What did we do to deserve this?

 

The next day Mamma woke them early with a cup of hot tea and a slice of buttered honey toast.

‘Today we are going to muster the cattle,' she announced with forced cheer. ‘The executors informed me in the letter yesterday that the Budgong cattle have been sold. They have given instructions that Mr Ash and the stockmen are to drive the cattle to Goulburn to their new owner.'

‘They've sold our cattle?' Charlotte repeated sleepily. ‘Can they do that?'

‘They have already done so,' Mamma replied. ‘Come on. It will do us all the world of good to get out in the bush for a good gallop.'

The children ate their breakfast, dressed hurriedly and went out into the chilly dawn. The stockmen were already awake and the horses saddled. The cattle dogs were milling around, snuffling the air with excitement. Samson joined them, woofing with delight as he saw the stockwhips being coiled and tied to the pommels.

Mr Ash pointed up into the thick scrub on the mountain-side. Massive spotted gums and grey gums soared overhead, their feathery foliage brushing the sky.

‘I saw a big mob of cattle up there yesterday as I was riding through,' he said. ‘We'll ride up there and flush them out first.'

Bluey nodded, his eyes squinting against the glare as his gelding pranced skittishly beneath him.

‘The cattle are pretty wild,' Mr Ash warned the children. ‘They are not like the tame beasts we had at Oldbury. Be careful not to get too close because those horns can be lethal to a human or horse. And try not to get in the way if they stampede.'

Charlotte checked Ophelia's girth to make sure it was tightly buckled then swung up into the side-saddle. The skirts of her riding habit cascaded down Ophelia's flank.

‘Louisa, you are to ride close to me at all times,' Mamma reminded her. ‘We will observe from a distance.' James was already in the saddle and cantering his horse around the clearing, cracking his small stockwhip above his head.

They rode up through the thick bushland, wallabies jumping out of their way. Jim the stockman yelled out as he spied a small herd of red-and-cream cattle hiding in the scrub.

‘Jimmy and Bluey, you take the right side,' called Mr Ash, spurring his gelding into a gallop. ‘I'll take the left.'

The dogs looked up for their orders then responded to the men's whistles and calls, sprinting low to the ground to round up the cattle.

Charlotte galloped after Mr Ash, swinging her own stockwhip above her head. Mr Ash had plaited it for her from greenhide as a Christmas present. She had practised for hours and could now make the whip sound with a resounding crack. James came up the middle, while Mamma and Louisa trotted along in their wake.

Charlotte charged to the left, jumping Ophelia over a fallen log. The cattle skittered, nervous at the unaccustomed disturbance. A small section of the herd split off, heading for the hills.

‘See if you can head them off, Miss Charlotte,' called Mr Ash. ‘I'll keep these ones with the main herd. If you lose them, don't worry – Jim and Bluey can help bring them in later.'

Charlotte was determined not to lose her small group of four cows and their calves. She let Ophelia have her head and raced after the cattle, swinging her stockwhip above her head, the crack echoing through the gully. She felt Ophelia's hooves thunder over the dry, bare ground.

The dominant cow was dashing for the ridge, the others racing behind. For a moment Charlotte thought she had lost them. She leant low over Ophelia's neck, urging her to go faster. The lead cow hesitated as Ophelia gained ground. She dropped her head, horns up, preparing to charge. Charlotte cracked her stockwhip loudly, the tip flicking the ground in a puff of dust.

‘Back you go, girls,' yelled Charlotte at the cattle. ‘Back to the herd.'

The front cow started at the loud noise, changed her mind and twisted her calf at her heels. Once the leader had turned, the others followed obediently. The leader tried to make another break for the hills, but Charlotte was there in a moment, cracking her whip and yelling, so the rebels surrendered and trotted meekly down the hill.