True History of the Kelly Gang Page 14

  He knew I were badly shaken by the murder but he never showed me no sympathy only the opposite he were blithe as a sparrow continually mocking the dead man calling him Yesbut or Bill Frot which means to rub your private parts or so he claimed. By the campfire he would perform a very vulgar imitation of Bill’s Waltz for which he thrust his big square backside out into the dark.

  Many is the moonlit night he left me alone with nothing but a single shot muzzleloader with only 2 percussion caps and not until much later did I hear from my Maggie she were always pleased to see a bright moon for it were on those same nights old Harry come riding down from the Warby Ranges to court my mother. The 1st night he boasted that he had shot Bill Frost for treating her so bad. Soon he done Bill’s Waltz it made her laugh and I must admit the old deceiver raised Ellen Kelly from her bed before he took her back to it.

  He were a dirty liar it were his great hobby and profession he done it continuously like another man might pick his nose or carve faces on a bit of mallee root just to pass the time. He easily made my mother believe I were gone travelling in New South Wales but he told me the troopers was camped out at Eleven Mile Creek waiting to arrest me. What a web he wove. He said he were observing the cops and would report when they was gone away. Of course I believed him for he were all that stood between me and the noose and I willingly held the horses for his constant robberies every night I bagged a kangaroo or a possum or some bush pigeons I never served him the same tucker 2 nights running. He were as lazy as the dog that rests its head against the wall to bark but I didnt grudge him so at different times I fed him Murray cod or yabbies or a snake. I also chopped the wood tended the horses and shoed them regular. If the night were warm I would dig 2 shallow trenches to hold our sleeping bodies then across this little grave I staked out mosquito nets. This service were not all caused by my good nature for I knew that when this activity ceased my mind would hurry back to that night of murder it would picture the Chinese woman with no rump Bill’s black blood spilling through his fingers.

  Every now and then Harry announced that things was hotting up and we should clear out to the Wombat so again I trusted him even though I come to dread them times at Bullock Creek for once there he could abandon me alone for 2 wk. at a time I suppose he returned to court my mother but I were left in solitude and my thoughts was very troubling. With hoe and scythe I cleared the bracken from around the blind walled hut so when the rains come the grass were much encouraged. I panned for gold and made a cockatoo fence also caught and broke a brumby mare but none of this ceaseless activity could still my mind I were v. guilty for having killed the father of my mother’s child.

  Yet the truth is neither a boy nor a horse and not even Harry Power can suppress it forever not with cunning or abuse not even with the great weight of his mighty arse. I got my 1st glimpse of the situation one morning as we travelled through McBean’s Kilfeera Station on the way back to the Warby Ranges. McBean were not only a squatter but a powerful Magistrate so on his land I had learned to follow the creeks and gullies those low lying areas the soldiers call the dead ground. It were a 2 day journey and in the morning of the 2nd day we was on the northern edge of McBean’s station having feasted on one of his jumbucks the night before. We come cantering up out of a deep and narrow valley and nearly tangled with a rider passing the other way. We was so close I could smell molasses on his horse’s breath and as I wheeled around my stirrup clashed with his. His horse reared while mine stumbled but neither of us fell. The rider had such a spit and polish shine to him I were immediately sure he were police in mufti then as we both swung away I saw Harry raking his spurs fiercely along his horse’s flank and suddenly the strange rider were coming after us. He were tweed suited and heavy gutted he might have been a Superintendent he were waving his hat at us. Hey Bill he hollered hold up Bill.

  Harry might of continued safe enough but he did not. Bill he cried who the eff are you calling Bill?

  The stranger kept his temper answering pleasantly I’m sorry mate. His full cheeked head were broad but he had a sharp little nose his quick black eyes now searched Harry’s face very carefully.

  Your face aint like Bill’s but you sit a horse pretty much the same. You know Bill Frost? They call him Yesbut? I aint seen him since he come out of hospital.

  Thus did the truth appear but in a lightning flash like a fish jumping at the evening rise and by the time I saw it there were nothing left but ripples. By then Harry had dragged his American repeater from his belt and aimed it directly at the stranger’s breast.

  Confound your impertinence he roared.

  Easy on mate said the horseman. I didnt mean you no offence. You don’t resemble Bill at all.

  Mate cried Harry I aint your adjectival mate and I’ll teach you how to talk to a gentleman. Take your watch out of your pocket then get off your horse and tie your watch to the bridle God damn you.

  Once the cove obeyed Harry circled around to his horse to untie the watch from the bridle. He lifted the instrument beside his ear and made a show of listening to it. Said he This must be a very costly item.

  Now I don’t know who you are Sir.

  I’m Harry Power you adjectival fool.

  Then you are a famous man said the fellow and your reputation precedes you.

  Harry couldnt keep the pleasure off his shining razored face he folded the golden chain into his palm then dropped the prize into his jacket pocket.

  They also say you are a fair man said the cove I’ve heard songs sung about you.

  I never heard no song and I doubt Harry had neither but his face increased its shine he said thats true I am as you describe.

  That watch was my father’s said the man so why not come up to the house and I’ll give you money instead.

  I am fair said Harry but I’m not effing stupid and I know there aint no house near here except Kilfeera homestead.

  Thats the one said the cove.

  And you are R.R. McBean I suppose smirked Harry and that gelding the famous Daylight.

  I am. He is.

  Harry werent expecting that so to hide his astonishment he rode around the cove’s horse as if planning to purchase it. He were in deep manure he knew he were up the proverbial creek without a paddle.

  Well Magistrate McBean it is very nice to make your acquaintance but now you better get walking before I put a lead plug in your big fat arse.

  That aint wise.

  You’re right but I aint wise.

  The Magistrate then turned to me his eyes was black as ink a fellow could of drowned in them. You don’t wish to be associated with something so foolish do you lad?

  I said nothing.

  Let me keep my horse at least.

  Said Harry you aint got a horse that I can see.

  You would steal my horse?

  You aint got a horse repeated Harry.

  Are you sure you would not care to reconsider this Mr Power?

  I was never a great one for reconsidering.

  Very well the Magistrate said and he turned on his heels and began the long angry walk across his dusty paddocks.

  Dismounting from his own mare Harry got on the squatter’s horse.

  What was that about Bill Frost?

  Nothing.

  He said he seen Bill Frost.

  No he never.

  I knew what were said and yet I never encountered such a bald faced lie before and thus I doubted myself. When Harry dug the spur into his new horse I followed him back to the so called SAFETY of Bullock Creek.

  That night we camped at Tatong but Harry wouldnt let me make a fire we ate canned beetroot then later on I heard him groaning perhaps it were his bowels perhaps he now were considering what a very stupid thing he had just done. When I woke to the clear metallic notes of magpie & bell-bird I discovered Harry sitting hunched over on his rolled up swag when I approached him I saw he were winding up his new gold watch he paid it a v. fussy kind of attention and once assured it were ticking fast enough he threaded the gold ch
ain through his buttonhole and patted it in place.

  Does it keep good time?

  He did not look up.

  Will I light a fire?

  When finally he raised his eyes I could see he lost his nerve.

  Perhaps it is time for some new country he said.

  Where?

  Gippsland.

  If you know the precipices the razorback ridges and treacherous shale of the mountains between Tatong and Gippsland you will have some geologic measure of his fear of R.R. McBean. In fact he were not alone I were also very sorry McBean had seen my face.

  Said he Our little absence will give this matter time to be forgot.

  So I never lit no fire that morning nor the next we pushed our horses quietly up through the Wombat Ranges to Toombulup where we procured a 2nd packhorse and thence to the town of Mansfield where I were sent to buy flour and sugar we had eaten so much beetroot our piss were red as blood.

  Departing Mansfield we also left behind our old familiar wedge of territory and when we come out by Merrijig on the Delatite River the south wind were in our faces we looked upon the waving meadows of kangaroo grass and the high wild country and Mount Buller waiting like a scaly beast kneeling on the earth.

  The 5th day of our flight were clear and cold with sufficient wind to bring the dead timber crashing down around us as we poked up along a chain of ridges. At day’s end we arrived on a high and windy saddle where all that grew were dwarfish white trunked gums and scrappy khaki bushes that lay low amongst the mountain rocks.

  Now you can light an adjectival fire.

  The wind made the hunting very easy I bagged a wallaby he never knew I were there. That night we ate roast meat and Harry did not complain about his bowels. Perhaps he missed my mother’s company I cannot say after we ate we was silent on our blankets looking out across the mighty Great Divide I never seen this country before it were like a fairy story landscape the clear and windy skies was filled with diamonds the jagged black outlines of the ranges were a panorama.

  You’re going to ride a horse across all that.

  I know.

  He laughed and he were right I knew nothing of what lay ahead.

  See that there he pointed. That is called the Crosscut Saw and that one is Mount Speculation and yonder is Mount Buggery and that other is Mount Despair did you know that?

  No Harry.

  You will and you’ll be sorry.

  It might be hard country but I were not afraid I went to sleep in starlight I woke to hail with the horses kicking and bucking in their torment the 2nd packhorse had gone missing it took me 1/2 the morning to walk him down. Then commenced the long and treacherous trip to Tambo Crossing following steep and dangerous routes known only to thieves and wombats it took 5 more days and all but one of them cold & wet.

  With our arrival at Tambo I were farther from my home than I had ever been. We soon found McFarley’s Tavern its floor were mired with mud and liquor the drinkers was crowded and stinking like wet dogs in a haycart some was there by choice but some had been trapped by rising waters of the Tambo amongst them was bitter mouthed selectors and laid off shearers and knee faced underdogs with their eyes red from fallen sawdust. The air were as sour and sullen as you might expect from a crowd of drunk unhappy men and I did not like to be a foreigner amongst them.

  While Harry moved to slake his thirst I stood by the open doorway in the better air and I could see the roaring Tambo its waters so red with dirt you could claim a farm from every gallon. This side of the river were a small paddock overcrowded with the customers’ horses pushing & biting & fretting at each other in the rain.

  So then I were about as far from Eleven Mile Creek as you could hope to get I seen a rider ambling up the track his horse were a grey mare with a slightly splayfooted gait. He wore a low brimmed hat and a long mud splashed oilskin of an English style and like his horse looked pretty much done in. The rider took off her saddle as if he planned to stay a while then turned the horse into the muddy barren paddock. How queerly familiar were that bandy gait as he walked wearily towards the tavern.

  Meanwhile Harry presided over the bar with his bearskin coat undone his pistols showing. Quick I whispered come quick. When he seen my excited face he must of had a premonition he immediately took refuge in his stolen watch fiddling with the chain and flipping open the case to stare a good long time into its face.

  Its him I said.

  Harry closed the watch and dropped it in his fob pocket then smoothed the golden chain across his dirty waistcoat.

  I’ll be there directly sonny Jim.

  But then Bill Frost were in the open doorway so there were no denying him.

  This cannot be cried Harry Power.

  Bill Frost saw us both his complexion paled to match the colour of his naked English arse he reached into his pocket for his howdah pistol.

  We heard you died said Harry quickly.

  By what cause? Frost never moved his eyes off me.

  By shooting I said. Harry’s hands was resting on his belt adjacent to his American repeater.

  What mongrel told you that said Frost his attention still on me.

  Harry heard you died said I he heard you bled to death from my gunshot.

  Harry Power is a liar said Bill Frost and even you should realise that for Christ’s sake. I seen him twice at the adjectival hospital then once at your mother’s when I come to get my stockwhip just look at him he’s effing winking at me now.

  I turned on Harry he were grinning like a dog.

  Take a joke.

  He’s been servicing your mother said Bill Frost.

  Take a joke.

  You dirty liar I cried I were beside myself I were never so deceived or cheated in all my livelong days you dirty effing liar I did not care what I said to him.

  But Harry Power could not afford having a boy speak to him thus he therefore pulled his Colt .31 revolver from his belt and pressed it to my head above the ear.

  Now the quiet descended all around me I looked into Harry’s eyes they was dead and pale as a curtain.

  Better apologise he whispered.

  I’m sorry Harry.

  Louder.

  Sorry Mr Power.

  You was mistaken.

  Yes I were mistaken.

  He removed the barrel back from my skull uncocked the action and now he dared to grin and clip me across the head the fool he did not know me.

  I returned his smile laying my left hand on his shoulder he were a big hard man I could feel the heft in him but as I were no longer afraid I punched him in the bowel. When he doubled over I brought up my fist into his throat a dreadful noise then come out of him and I took his revolver off him and pushed it against the back of his square head I could see his dirty scalp showing through his thinning hair. My hands was trembling I asked him did he wish to live or die.

  For answer the famous Harry Power collapsed upon the boozy mire gasping like a great fat Murray cod I ripped the gold watch off him it tore a lump of his waistcoat which were still attached to its chain when I threw it on the ground.

  I’ll kill you I cried.

  My blood were boiling but I could not kill instead I shot the rich gold watch and it leapt and spun its very innards the wheels and springs spilling out as the drunkards all fled in a tangle to cower in the shadows of that muddy room. Putting the weapon in my belt I turned and walked out into the rain.

  That night my dear mother dreamed about me she could correctly describe the horse I mounted outside McFarley’s Tavern she knew it were a dappled grey she knew I were in danger but did not know the threat were Harry Power. Walking towards the holding yard I glanced back to the shanty and observed Power were once more on his feet his right hand resting on his big American repeater. I did not touch the Colt .31 but climbed the fence where the famous Daylight were busy making a nuisance of himself with the fillies he were a very handsome horse with a good barrel a long strong neck and I resolved to have him as payment for my services to Mr Power. T
he mares now headed him away from the fillies while I saw from his bloody flanks they had already kicked and bitten him as punishment but this were no bad sign of character to me. As I come up with his bridle he turned his bum to me but if he had intended to kick me he soon changed his mind and tried to bite my leg instead.

  A crowd of men was watching from the veranda of the shanty I saw Bill Frost clap his hand upon Harry’s shoulder only to be pushed away. I won’t say my heart werent thumping but I deserved that horse I knew it and I took him for a ride in the rain and once he had snorted and pig-rooted a little I let him know my mind were open as to his character. All this time Harry Power & Bill Frost continued their study of me each one as cunning as an outhouse rat I should of watched them every instant but this were not possible so I carried the weight of their hateful old eyes upon my back. Tethering Daylight to the fence I found our packhorse she were still full laden I helped myself to Power’s best waterproof sheet also some tea a few potatoes and a lump of cheese. These provisions I placed in a gunnysack while I were more or less hidden by the stock.

  I climbed the fence with a horse blanket rolled up beneath my arm and the gunnysack across my shoulders I seen Harry had set his American repeater at the danger position which is in the middle right above his fly. I tied the blanket over Daylight’s pommel and then at last I mounted.

  It made no sense to shoot me but Harry had a dreadful pride in fact the river were so loud I cannot say for certain that he didnt fire as I departed only that when trotting round the hillock at the bottom of the track I were still alive. The clean clear rain poured off my hatbrim as I cantered beside the flooded Tambo and now I could enjoy my fine new companion fully. The sight of his ears flicking back and forth the freckled grey neck bobbing in front of me the mane bouncing in time with his stride all this soon conspired to put me in a very happy frame of mind.