CHAPTER SEVEN

The First Day

Their first morning on the road was uneventful, and as they had not come across any other travellers, Joe thought it safe for Howie to sit up front. The two friends chatted away happily and had been travelling along at a steady pace for some hours, when Joe noticed a small speck on the horizon. He watched for a while and, as they drew nearer, the speck slowly began to take shape. Joe turned to his companion.

‘Someone on foot by the looks of it. You’d better hop in the back, old mate. Make sure you’re covered with the tarp till we see who it is—we can’t be too careful. A fella at the pub yesterday was telling me there was an escaped convict on the loose—a pretty nasty character, by the sounds of it, so we won’t take any chances.’

As they gradually caught up to the figure, Joe’s suspicions eased. It’s just an old swagman, he thought as the bearded, raggedy-looking fellow turned around and hailed him.

‘G’day mate’, he said. ‘Goin’ my way?’

‘Well, that depends on where you’re going,’ Joe replied. ‘I’m headed for Sydney Town.’

The man snorted. ‘That’s one place I’m definitely not goin’ to.’

‘Sorry, I can’t help you, then.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong, mister. For starters, you can get down off that wagon an’ hand over any money you’ve got.’

As Joe looked at the rifle now pointed at him, he realised his mistake. This was no swaggie. It was a bushranger … or maybe that escaped convict!

Knowing Howie was in the back of the wagon, Joe was not too worried by this turn of events. As a matter of fact, he found it hard not to smile when he thought of the shock in store for this villain. However, so that the Yowie would know the robber was armed, he pretended to shake with fright.

‘Don’t shoot … don’t shoot!’ he said loudly. ‘I’ll get down, just like you say. I’ll do whatever you want … only don’t shoot.’

‘What’s in ya wagon?’ asked the robber.

‘Only some bits and pieces of furniture—oh, and my poor old mum, having a bit of a snooze. Please don’t hurt her. She’s very weak and helpless.’

The robber moved around to the back of the wagon.

‘Come on out, ya old hag!’ he shouted as he poked the tarpaulin with his rifle. ‘And hurry up about it. I haven’t got all day.’ He turned back to Joe and levelled his rifle at him. ‘Now don’t go gettin’ any ideas,’ he growled, ‘or else I’ll do your mum in … after I’ve finished you off, of course.’

No sooner had the scoundrel finished this sentence than two large paws grabbed him from behind and lifted him high up into the air. His eyes popped, his face went red, then turned purple as he struggled for breath.

Joe thought it time to step in.

‘You’d better stop now, Howie,’ he warned. ‘I don’t think he’ll cause us any more trouble. And we don’t want to kill him. There’s probably a big reward out for him.’

Howie relaxed his grip. The villain fell to the ground in a heap, moaning and gasping and trembling with fear. When he saw the big hairy monster standing over him, he fainted dead away.

While he was unconscious, they bound his hands and feet with rope and put him into the back of the wagon. Howie waited under a shady tree while Joe made a quick detour to a nearby police station.

When he finally came to, the robber found himself in a jail cell.

No one believed his story about a “monster”.

‘Hogwash,’ said the police constable in charge. ‘We know who you are and where you escaped from. That fellow who caught you and brought you in was a nice young gentleman on his way to Sydney Town. Not a monster to be seen anywhere,’ he chuckled.

There had indeed been a reward. Joe wanted to share it, but Howie refused. He had no need or use for money, he said. ‘But,’ he added, ‘if you happen to see a doll or something special that you think Hannah might like, maybe you could buy it and send it to her.’

Joe liked the idea very much. ‘Done!’ he said, and they shook hands.

And now it was time to continue their journey.