The Japanese were coming. Everyone was talking about them. The air smelt heavy with fear and excitement. Dave and his mate, Stan, couldn’t wait to fight. They wanted to ‘give the Japs what for’. They said it would serve them right for what they’d done to Darwin.
Dave had promised Elsie’s father that before signing up, he and Stan would take a big mob of cattle to Port Hedland. Their plan was to load the stock onto a ship called Koolama and then find a recruiting office to join the Army. The Koolama ship would take the cattle south. I didn’t know what would happen to me and I tried not to fret. Maybe the Boss would change his mind. Maybe he and Elsie would be waiting for me in Port Hedland. I imagined myself leaping into Elsie’s arms and snuggling my nose against her soft neck.
The first days of droving were hard. Elsie was right, I was a pet, not a station dog, but Dave was kind. When my paws bled, he made a sling for me beside his saddlebag. Swinging against Smokey, Dave’s horse, made me giddy, but after a few days I got used to it. Once my pads toughened up, I ran behind the cattle with Stan’s dog, Diesel. Despite my small size, herding came naturally to me. I enjoyed nipping cattle hooves. Dave ruffled the fur on my head and told me I was a quick learner.
‘Good work, Dog,’ he said. ‘In time, you’ll be as clever as yer mum was!’
Sleeping under the wide sky and gazing at stars was exciting. My golden eyes saw shadows and I felt the warm breath of the land. But I would have given it up in a heartbeat for Elsie. Until now, we’d been together every day of my life. I missed everything about her. I missed the way Elsie’s eyes sparkled when she smiled at me and I missed her sweet soapy smell. I especially missed the treats she hid in her pockets.
Life was different out droving, but I wasn’t lonely. Dave, Diesel, Stan and I settled into what Dave called the daily humdrum. We left camp at first light, followed dry rivers and passed abandoned homesteads, pushing the cattle towards the setting sun. Cattle dogs can be mean, but Diesel wasn’t. When the day’s work was done, and the men began cooking their dinner, we followed rabbit trails then flopped in the dust side by side.
One midday, we stopped for a break at an old bloodwood tree. Dave gathered twigs to make a fire to boil the billy, while Stan wheeled his horse, Nellie, around to gather straggling poddy calves. I circled the tree’s wide trunk, sniffing the ground. Something felt wrong.
Dave scooped a hollow in the dirt and I watched him cover it with twigs and leaves. Then he set a fire and poured two cups of our precious water into the billy. When he noticed me panting Dave poured a capful into my bowl. I lapped gratefully.
The sun was high. I crouched beside the bloodwood trunk and spread my paws. I’d already learnt that shade was a rare treat for a drover’s dog. Sometimes I could rest in the shadow of a cow, but that was risky.
The ground was hot, even in the shade, and my paws were sore. I licked them, then wriggled, making a small willy-willy until Dave barked, ‘Sit still, Dog.’
I stopped squirming but couldn’t settle. Something wasn’t right. I cocked my ears, listening to the rustle of cattle and the tired snorting of Dave’s horse. There were no strange sounds, but I still sensed danger.
Dave put a match to the leaves. He coaxed a wisp of flame and as the flame crackled, he hummed a marching tune.
I growled.
‘What’s wrong, girl?’
A loud crack answered.
There was no time for Dave to jump. Cockatoos screeched as a thick branch fell, pinning him to the ground. Dave’s gelding, Smokey, bolted. My first instinct was to run with the horse, back to the comfort of the station, but Elsie was gone. I was Dave’s dog now. He was my human and he was trapped.
I ran around the tree barking.
Stan heard the commotion. He turned his horse and galloped back.
‘Dave,’ he called. ‘What happened?’
There was no answer.
Then he saw the branch.
My legs trembled as I sensed the drover’s fear. Be brave, I thought. Remember Rivette.
Diesel crouched beside me and I licked his chin. Diesel was a wise old dog. He’d know what to do. But Diesel did nothing.
I listened to blood race through Dave’s veins. His heart was pumping fast. I crept closer, nosing the branch. Blood covered Dave’s arm. It smelt like the lucky pennies he liked to jingle in his pocket.
Stan knelt beside Dave. ‘Jeez, mate, are you all right?’
Dave’s eyes were shut.
Stan wrapped his arms around the branch and tried to move it.
Dave stirred. ‘Stan,’ he gasped.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll soon sort this out.’
Stan’s face was pale and his hands shook as he grabbed the branch to try again.
‘It’s too heavy.’ Dave groaned. ‘Ride for help.’
‘I’m not leaving you here alone.’
‘Dog will stay.’
I felt Stan hesitate. He watched me licking Dave’s arm.
‘Ride back to that homestead we passed,’ Dave said.
‘It was abandoned …’
‘There’ll be a radio. Call the flying doctor.’
‘But …’ I sensed Stan’s confusion.
‘It’s me only chance. Go. Maybe the doc can fly in before dark.’
Stan flung off his hat and scratched his thin hair.
‘Hurry,’ Dave murmured.
Stan moved a waterbag and blanket next to Dave. Then he stamped out the camp fire and stared at me.
‘Stay,’ he said. ‘Look after him, Dog.’
I watched Stan run to his horse and swing into the saddle. Diesel glanced at me, barked once, then loped after his master.
Clouds of dust followed Nellie’s galloping hooves. I smelt the mob’s panic but ignored their silly mooing. With no stockwhips or dogs to bully them, the cattle soon settled. As they regrouped, small animal noises began again. I heard lizards scuttle through the underbrush and my paws itched to catch one, but Stan had told me to stay. I curled against Dave and did as I was told. We hadn’t been together long, but Dave was my person. When he suffered, I suffered too.
I pressed my small body against Dave’s skin. He felt clammy. I’d once seen a station bitch lick her pups into life, so I licked Dave’s salty skin the same way. His arm became warmer. I stepped around Dave’s swollen legs and began licking the other arm. Streaks of blood had pooled near his hand. I snapped at the flies trying to settle there. Dave groaned.
‘Dog,’ he called.
I shuffled closer to his face.
‘Sit down, Dog.’
I curled against Dave’s shoulder and felt him relax. Pressing my fur against his skin seemed to steady his breathing. I stretched my legs, trying to warm more of Dave’s body, but it was no use, I wasn’t big enough. I rested my nose on his wet arm instead.
As we lay there, I thought of Elsie and wondered what she’d want me to do. Be still, a voice told me, so I did my best not to wriggle.
The sun moved across the sky. Dave’s skin became colder. Parrots swooped in the bloodwood tree, pecking at the fresh sap and insects. The birds squawked and squabbled, shrieking news of the fallen branch. My whiskers twitched. I wanted to run around the tree barking again. Chasing parrots was one of my favourite things, but Dave needed me to be still. I glared at the birds instead. They kept squawking.
When the parrots finally flew away, I lapped water from the billy and went to squat behind the tree. Then I returned to Dave. The tree’s shadow had become a long line pointing after Stan. Where was he? Should I try to find him?
‘Stay,’ Stan had told me and so I stayed.
As the red dirt cooled, I heard a faraway rumbling. I looked into the sky and saw a silvery glint pass overhead. It was an aeroplane. I’d seen one at Elsie’s station once when Youngest brother fell off the water tank. Was this the same plane?
Ants gathered on a leaf near Dave’s blood. As they moved back and forth, I remembered hide-and-seek games with Elsie and the feel of her hand on my ears.
Dave shivered, then his breath became raspy. I was frightened and let out a small howl. I couldn’t help it. Creatures stirred. I smelt a wallaby mother with her joey. My stomach growled as Dave’s breathing changed again. It would soon be night. I whimpered and licked his face.
At last I heard Nellie’s hooves. Diesel ran to meet me. He sniffed Dave then circled the branch and peed on the outer leaves. I nosed the air. Stan and Diesel weren’t alone. There was another man. Sharp smells clung to the stranger’s clothes. He walked towards Dave and I barked, warning him to stay back.
‘It’s okay,’ Stan said. ‘Doc’s here to help.’
The long-ago aeroplane person had also been called Doc. This Doc smelt like that other one, but he was younger. Other old Doc fixed Youngest brother’s leg, but had to wait for a storm to pass before he could fly out. While he was waiting, Other Doc checked everyone’s ears and eyes. He even checked me.
The Missus didn’t want me to have pups, so Other Doc did something to my belly. I don’t know what because I was asleep. When I woke some fur was gone and I had a line of tight stitches. Elsie’s kisses and spoiling soon helped me forget the pain.
I growled a soft warning as this Doc took strange things from his bag and began prodding Dave. Stan held me in his arms while Doc lifted Dave’s eyelids. I watched Doc press two fingers onto Dave’s neck and listen to his gravelly breathing. Then he filled a syringe. It was smaller than the ones the Boss used on cattle, but it still seemed dangerous. I bristled.
Doc pushed the needle into Dave’s arm and said, ‘That’ll help with the pain.’
Dave’s eyelids flickered. He looked up. ‘You made it.’
Stan smiled. ‘The doc’s here now. You’ll soon be right.’
‘Thanks, mate.’
‘No worries, cobber. Once the herd is sorted, you can buy me a drink in Hedland.’
I squirmed in Stan’s arms but he held me tight. I imagined Elsie’s voice telling me to settle, and tried to be calm.
The injection worked quickly. Dave’s breathing became easier and Stan put me down. When the men weren’t watching I had a good sniff of Doc’s bag. It smelt like a box in Elsie’s kitchen. That box held bottles which the Missus called medicine. I took another sniff and decided Doc’s bag was safe. I curled against Dave’s feet, watching Doc in the fading light. His hands looked gentle.
Stan lit the lantern then cut branches from the far side of the tree. He wrapped the two longest sticks together with a blanket to make a bed, then Stan dragged the branch-bed to Doc.
‘Ready when you are, Doc.’
The other man waited. I sensed that Doc was uncomfortable, like I was when the Boss was angry and I’d done something wrong. Doc took a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was steady, but the things he said were strange.
‘Dave’s chest and stomach are badly crushed.’
‘Let’s get him out then.’
I heard Doc swallow.
‘Crush injuries are complicated,’ he said. ‘After so many hours with damaged muscles, there’s been limited blood flow to Dave’s tissues. Some cells have started to die. Once we move that branch, toxins will rush into Dave’s bloodstream –’
‘And?’ Stan looked confused.
Doc said, ‘Without intravenous fluids Dave will develop acute renal failure.’
‘Meaning?’
‘His kidneys won’t work.’
I watched Stan frown at the doctor. I didn’t know what any of this meant but my instincts told me it was bad.
‘You don’t know Dave. He’s strong as a mallee bull.’
‘Dave’s injuries are severe. After so many hours of crush, he’ll be battling to survive renal failure. If we were in hospital, he’d have a chance. I could begin a drip and we could give him blood, but even then …’
‘What if we ease the branch slowly?’
‘The blood will surge as soon as the weight is removed.’
‘There must be something you can do.’
‘I can make him comfortable.’
‘But we’re going to fight the Japanese. We’ve been planning it for weeks. As soon as we get this mob in, we’re off to do our bit.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Stan kicked the dirt. I jumped up and growled, standing guard over Dave. Stan strode into the darkness. Diesel followed, his tail drooping. I heard Stan throwing rocks. When he came back I cowered.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?’
Doc shook his head.
Stan sank to his knees, holding the lantern next to his mate. Dave stirred. His eyes opened and I nuzzled his cheek. Dave stared up at Stan and I felt him shudder. Dave knew.
‘It’s not good, is it?’
Stan took a deep breath. ‘You always had a hopeless poker face!’ Dave said.
Stan sighed. ‘Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.’
I licked Dave’s ear.
‘Just tell me the truth,’ Dave moaned.
‘If we shift the tree, we’ll do more damage to ya innards.’
‘And if you don’t lift it?’
Stan glanced away as Dave murmured, ‘Not a good choice, hey?’
‘I can give you pain relief,’ Doc said, showing him the syringe. ‘You won’t feel anything.’
‘Right, well, that’s something.’
Stan wiped his eyes. ‘Jeez, Dave, I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d ridden faster …’
‘Nothing you could have done.’ Dave looked around. ‘What about the cattle?’
‘They’ll be right. I spoke to Everett on the radio. He’ll try to find someone to help.’
‘Sorry to bail on you,’ Dave said. ‘If Smokey comes back, you keep him. You always liked that horse.’
The men were quiet for a moment, then Dave whispered, ‘Darn shame we can’t sign up together. You’ll have to give it to the enemy from both of us!’
‘You can count on that.’
‘Is there anyone you want me to contact?’ Doc asked.
‘Nah.’ Dave closed his eyes. ‘I’ve always been a loner.’ Then he looked at me. ‘What about the dog?’
‘I’ll take care of her,’ Stan offered.
‘You’ll be fighting Japs.’
Dave turned his head to the other man. ‘Take me dog, Doc. I promised the station girl I’d find her a home. The terrier’s small but she’s a bright little dog and brave as anything.’
Doc hesitated and my ears drooped. I could tell he didn’t want me.
‘Please,’ Dave pleaded, ‘I promised the girl.’
Doc looked into Dave’s eyes. I felt a moment of understanding pass between them, and Doc nodded.
‘I’ll make sure she finds a good home.’
‘Thanks, Doc.’
I wanted to tell Doc that I’d had a good home, if only he could find Elsie for me, but Dave didn’t say Elsie’s name and I had no words.
Dave looked at me. ‘Thanks for staying by me, Dog.’
I licked his face. Dave smiled for a moment, then winced as his arm shook.
He turned to Stan. ‘Thanks for riding back.’
Stan wiped his eyes. ‘No worries.’
I whimpered. I’d smelt death before on the cattle station and knew Dave was dying. His feet were already cold and lifeless. I snuggled against them, trying to give him comfort. Diesel hunkered down beside me.
After a while Dave said, ‘I’m ready.’
Stan tied me to the bloodwood tree as Doc filled the syringe. Once Dave was sleeping, they lifted the branch. I howled as Dave’s life left his body. My keening startled a dingo and the evening air was suddenly filled with the wild dog’s call.
Stan ripped Dave’s shirt into strips and used it to tie Dave onto the branch-bed that he’d made. Then he strapped the long branches onto the back of Nellie’s saddle, so that she could drag the bed. Once that was done, Stan relit the fire and balanced his billy over the flames. I was glad Stan hadn’t seen me lap water from it.
I heard the water bubble. Stan tossed a handful of tea and a gum leaf into the billy. The familiar smell settled my jitters and I crept over to curl against Dave’s body. The men shared a chunk of fruitcake and I drooled, remembering how Elsie used to slip me crumbs from the Christmas table. It seemed forever ago. Stan took some dried beef from his saddlebag. He threw it to Diesel and me. I gnawed quickly before Diesel could grab my share. Be brave, I thought as I gulped the meat, remember Rivette.
We waited by the fire until moonrise. Then Stan tipped tea leaves onto the coals and we began walking back to the abandoned homestead. I was glad to leave the bloodwood tree and its sad smell of death.
The earth was cool under my paws. As we walked, Doc spoke about the attack on Darwin. He said there’d been two air raids involving dozens of Japanese aeroplanes. Elsie’s mother used to say ‘dozens’ when she was cooking biscuits, so I knew it was much more than four.
‘How many were killed?’ Stan asked.
‘First report was fifteen people, but Saturday’s paper listed nineteen. No one knows how many were injured. There’s also talk of a hospital ship being attacked.’
‘Mongrels,’ Stan growled. ‘The sooner I get to Hedland the better.’
‘The other flying doctors have joined the RAAF,’ Doc said, ‘but if I leave there’ll be no doctor in the north-west.’
‘Where’s Doc Vickers?’ asked Stan.
‘In Perth. He’s Commanding Officer of the Military Hospital.’
‘Jeez, that’ll keep him busy.’
‘Too right. We’re all busy now. I’m the only non-army doctor from Broome to Carnarvon.’
‘Fair dinkum?’
Doc nodded. ‘When John Flynn started the Inland Mission, his rule was “one man, one job”. But that was before the war. Being pilot, engineer and doctor means I can do three jobs. That frees up others, but some days my hands itch to take the controls of a Spitfire.’
Spitfire? My skin prickled. Elsie and I hated those spitting caterpillars. I looked at Doc’s hands, imagining them taking control of a long line of spitting itchy grubs. Why would he want to do that?
‘I’m sure as hell grateful you aren’t fighting overseas,’ Stan said. ‘Someone needs to stay back and look after the home front.’
‘I wish I could have done more for your mate.’
‘You gave him a peaceful death, Doc, that’s more than many blokes get in wartime.’ Stan stroked his whiskers then giddy-upped the mare. As I padded along behind, I heard him murmur, ‘One doctor from Broome to Carnarvon. Struth!’
‘I’m Mining Warden and Magistrate too,’ Doc muttered. ‘But that’s a whole other story.’
My nose quivered. Something was following us. I sniffed the darkness as Dave’s horse left the shadows and trotted towards Stan.
‘G’day, Smokey.’
Stan stroked the horse’s sweaty neck and spoke softly, the way Elsie used to when I was restless. After a while Smokey’s snorting eased. He tossed his mane and I heard his big heart settle.
‘Why don’t you ride him, Doc.’
The tall man hesitated for a moment, then swung into Dave’s empty saddle.
Nellie was first to smell the station’s water wells. She nickered and quickened her steps. Diesel and I left the men and ran ahead. There was no sound of dogs or humans at the homestead. It was safe. Stan and Doc carried Dave to a table in the kitchen, even though there was a place for dead humans on a hill behind the house. Diesel and I had explored it a few days earlier. The bones we’d smelt were deep in the ground and very old. There was a place like that at Elsie’s homestead with two big mounds and another tiny one. I didn’t like going near it. The place spooked me.
‘I’ll help you dig a grave in the morning,’ Doc offered.
Stan shook his head. ‘If you’re the only doctor for thousands of miles, then I reckon there’s plenty of other things you need to be doing back in town.’
‘Matron will be expecting me for hospital rounds after breakfast.’ Doc sighed. ‘But we could start digging at first light.’
‘I remember your Matron from when me tonsils came out last winter. She liked everything to run tickety-boo, and she’s not one to be kept waiting.’ Stan tapped Doc on the arm. ‘Don’t you worry about the grave, Doc. You get on back to Matron and I’ll find a peaceful spot for Dave. I’d rather say goodbye on me own anyway.’
‘Are you sure?’
Stan nodded. He went into a bedroom and came back with a sheet and covered Dave’s body. Then he sat on a chair next to the radio box and its funny bicycle pedals.
‘I’ll send a message to Hedland while you get a cuppa going.’
‘Okay.’
Doc set a fire in the stove and filled the kettle while Stan pedalled furiously. Radio crackle hurt my ears and suddenly another man began speaking.
‘G’day, Everett,’ Stan replied. ‘Doc arrived safely, over.’
‘How’s Dave? Over.’
‘He didn’t make it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ the Everett voice murmured, ‘over.’
There was a crackly no-word silence, then Doc walked across the room, took the handset from Stan and said, ‘I’ll fly back at first light. Thanks, Everett, over.’ He replaced the handset and the men settled on the verandah with mugs of tea and canned beans from the pantry.
My stomach rumbled and Diesel drooled.
The room held the scents of four different people and a cat, all long gone. Other animal smells on the verandah were fresher. I snuffled the place where a fox had crouched the night before. A smear of blood showed where she’d caught a rat and I raised my nose in the direction the fox had dragged her kill. There were more rats scuttling behind the kitchen wall. Maybe she’d return tonight.
Diesel scratched at the wall while I turned around a few times then lay under the table that was holding Dave. His skin smelt bad, but something of Dave lingered in the air. It was a soft presence. I huddled in Dave’s death shadow, snapping at sleepy flies and wishing Elsie was here to whisper soft words into my ears. Dave was my link to Elsie. How could I find her without him?
As I rested my head on my paws, I listened to the men speak. Every now and then Stan shifted and his breath changed as he peered at his friend’s still body.
‘I’ll bet things are different in Port Hedland now that it’s become a military garrison,’ Stan said.
My ears pricked up. Hedland was where Stan was taking the cattle.
‘You’re not wrong.’ Doc’s voice was patient, but I smelt his exhaustion.
‘I heard there are over one hundred soldiers in town.’
‘More now,’ Doc told him, ‘as well as Yank pilots and Dutch evacuees. Most of the women and kiddies have gone south and those that haven’t are nervy – except Matron.’ Doc smiled. ‘Matron says that even if we’re bombed, she’ll stay to look after the patients. It’s brave of her. Every day there are fresh rumours, especially since that article about the pearlers.’
Stan sat forward. ‘What article was that?’
‘A newspaper fellow reckons the Japs working on pearl luggers have been making secret maps.’ Doc shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it. When I took out a Japanese bloke’s appendix last year, he was more worried about an invasion than me. As soon as he was fit enough, the army locked him in the Broome jail. Then they sent him to a camp in Victoria.’ Doc sighed. ‘All the old pearl divers are interned now.’
‘Where they should be,’ Stan said. ‘Ya can’t trust ’em, Doc.’
‘Maybe, but this fellow was born in Broome, so was his father. Seemed to me that he was stuck between two worlds.’
‘I served with the Light Horse Regiment in the Great War,’ Stan said, ‘and a Japanese ship, the Ibuki, escorted us from Fremantle to the Middle East. They were our allies then, and we were glad of their ship’s protection, but things have changed since 1914.’
The men talked about another long-ago War, using strange words I hadn’t heard before. I soon lost interest and dozed near Dave’s body, remembering the day he’d promised Elsie to find me a nice home. If Doc took me to Hedland, maybe Elsie could track me down.
My ears lifted. There were voices outside. I growled, but Stan didn’t notice.
Doc was saying, ‘He copped a lungful of gas and that was the end of his war.’
‘Did he make it home?’
‘Yes, but his health was ruined.’
I growled again. This time Doc turned.
‘What’s the dog’s name?’ he asked.
‘The station girl called her something fancy, but Dave just called her Dog. She seemed happy to answer to that.’
‘I’m not sure I can keep her,’ Doc said. ‘My wife is busy with our baby and I’m in the air every second day.’
‘Couldn’t the dog go in the plane with you?’
‘She’d have to sit very still.’
‘She didn’t move from Dave’s side all day.’
‘That’s true.’ Doc watched me guarding Dave’s body. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll keep my word and try to find her a good home.’
‘Won’t be easy,’ Stan muttered. ‘No one wants a dog at the moment. The men who’ve joined the army gave away their cattle dogs. Or shot them.’
‘That seems a bit rough.’
Stan leant down to pat Diesel’s head and said, ‘We’re all making hard choices now.’
Doc frowned. ‘I might be able to leave her in one of the remote communities.’
‘She’s the kind of dog that needs one person to love, Doc. I’d rather bury her with Dave than send her somewhere you’re not sure about.’
My legs trembled. Would Stan really do that to me?
‘It’s a pity,’ Stan continued. ‘Her mum was a cracker, a pedigree something or other, and a great herder. Dave said the father was dingo, but apart from the eyes, I can’t see it. She’s a good rabbiter though, and not afraid to get among the cattle.’ He sighed. ‘Look, Doc, I know Dave made a promise to the girl, and now you’ve made a promise to him, but Dave wouldn’t have wanted the dog going to just anyone.’
But he’d want me to live, I thought, wishing I had words to tell them.
‘If you can’t keep the dog, then maybe it’s better if I shoot her.’
I slunk into a corner. I knew about shooting. When an animal was sick or couldn’t keep up with the herd, a stockman took it aside with a gun. Once the mob passed, there’d be a click then a bang and the animal would be dead. Sometimes the stockmen even ate the animal.
I scratched a flea and tried to stop shaking. I didn’t want to be eaten.
If I crouched lower, maybe I could creep past the men and slip away. But if I did that, how would I get to Hedland and find Elsie?
Before I could move I heard the voices again and smelt dogs. I howled. Diesel leapt up and ran into the yard. As Stan reached for his gun, two men called from the darkness.
‘G’day, boss.’
Stan put down his rifle.
‘Hello, Bernie.’ I heard Stan’s relieved breath. ‘How’s your family?’
‘Not bad,’ Bernie replied. ‘We saw the plane earlier and followed it to the airstrip. Is everything all right? We promised the station Missus we’d keep an eye on the homestead.’
‘There was an accident,’ Stan said. ‘This is the doctor.’
Bernie shook hands with Doc then pointed to his friend.
‘That’s Jarli,’ he said.
The men perched on the verandah step. While Doc made a fresh pot of tea Stan told them about Dave’s accident.
‘Sorry,’ Bernie said. ‘Dave was a good bloke.’
No one spoke for a moment, then Stan said, ‘I don’t s’pose you fellows could help me drive the cattle to Hedland?’
Jarli and Bernie talked together with different kinds of words. As they spoke my mind saw glowing camp fires and a pale dog loping alongside a tall man. My nose quivered as I felt the dog’s long-ago paws tread lightly across the earth.
‘Okay,’ Jarli said. ‘We’ll come back at first light.’
‘Do you need a good dog?’ Doc asked, pointing to me.
‘We’ve got dogs,’ Bernie replied.
‘Top kelpies,’ Jarli added with a smile.
I heard Doc sigh as the men left.
‘Shooting the dog doesn’t seem right,’ he told Stan. ‘I guess I’ll take her back to Hedland in the plane. There must be someone who’ll give her a home.’
I smelt Stan’s relief. ‘You’d be saving me a bullet,’ he said. ‘And by jingo, I hate shooting a good dog.’
I put my nose onto my paws, breathed deeply and closed my eyes.
The men were dozing when the radio crackled again. I pricked my ears. A voice was calling. It was the man they called Everett, not the Pearl Harbor voice or Mr Curtin.
‘Dingo Plains, come in, Dingo Plains.’
Stan hurried to the radio and began pedalling.
‘This is Dingo Plains, over.’
‘Hello, Stan. Is Doc there? I have to speak with him.’
‘I’m here, Everett, over.’
‘Doc, urgent assistance is needed for a girl at Willoughby Station. She’s only six years old and they say it’s pretty bad, over.’
‘What happened?’
‘She was on the wrong side of a steer. Its horn gashed her leg. The Willoughby blokes reckon their runway is in good condition and they’ve cleared stock from the airstrip. Can you attend? Over.’
Doc turned to Stan. ‘Could you organise light for a night take-off?’
Stan checked the cupboards and began lining up more than two pawfuls of lanterns.
‘Okay,’ Doc told Everett. ‘I should be able to leave within the hour. Tell Willoughby to light their flares, over.’
‘Roger that.’
Doc grabbed his sharp-smelling bag while Stan ran outside calling Bernie and Jarli, asking them to help with the lanterns.
Suddenly I was alone.
I sniffed and looked around. I didn’t want to leave Dave, even though his body no longer smelt like Dave, but my stomach wouldn’t stop grumbling. I went onto the verandah and licked crumbs from underneath the men’s chairs. Doc had dropped some soft beans. They were delicious. I snuffled for more. There weren’t any, so I returned to the empty shell of Dave.
‘Dog,’ Stan shouted. ‘C’mon!’
I trotted to the edge of the verandah and after looking at Dave one last time, I stepped into the darkness. The night was buzzing with insects. I followed Diesel and Stan to a long track of dirt where Doc’s aeroplane shone in the moonlight. The men had lit fires along each side of the airstrip. Bernie and Jarli stood at one end holding lanterns. Their kelpies crouched in the dust behind them.
Doc climbed onto the bottom wing of his plane and I watched him step into a hole up on top. He pulled a cap onto his head, then reached down to shake Stan’s hand.
‘Good luck getting that mob of cattle to Hedland. If you have time, stop by the hospital for a cuppa.’
Stan nodded. ‘Thanks for coming, Doc.’ He leant down and lifted me into the air. ‘Hey, don’t forget the dog.’
Stan passed me over the wing and Doc tucked me into his jacket.
‘Stay,’ Doc said. Then he closed the zipper.
I wriggled, but Doc held me close. I was too tired to fight so I rested against him. I was used to Doc’s scent, but his jacket held other interesting smells, strange things that I didn’t know.
From inside the jacket I heard Doc call, ‘Okay, spin the propeller.’
There was a click, then the engine roared.
Doc stroked my ears. ‘It’s all right,’ he said.
As we began moving, I peeped out. The plane was rolling towards the end of the airstrip. Doc turned the plane and waved to Stan. Then I felt his feet pushing pedals. We whizzed along. Doc pulled a metal stick. The front of the plane lifted and we climbed into the sky. I trembled, but Doc smelt calm.
‘It’s all right,’ he repeated.
The plane tilted. We circled the airstrip and I saw Stan. He was tiny, like a spot on Elsie’s map. Looking up, I could see clouds racing past the moon. My ears lifted, straining to catch familiar sounds, but all I could hear was the droning of the engine. The only familiar scent was an oily machine smell that I’d known on Elsie’s station. I tried to peer over the edge, but Doc’s gloved hand held me back. He was staring ahead. Concentrating. Like Elsie used to do when she had to finish her sewing.
‘Settle, Dog,’ he murmured.
A rush of cold wind tickled my ears, then swept along my back. I shivered and buried my nose in Doc’s warm stomach. I must have dozed because I woke to the sound of humming. Elsie often hummed, so for me it was a happy sound. I wriggled and looked up at Doc.
He stroked my head with one gloved hand while I snuffled cold air. The night was clear and I felt Doc’s joy at being in the sky. Like Elsie’s joy when we ran around the sheds together. Then Doc began singing. His voice was deep and sure. As we flew into the darkness, I gave a short accompanying howl. Doc laughed. Being in the sky was amazing.
Doc’s song grew louder. It was a warm friendly rumble in his chest, right next to my ear. He was singing a throaty human howl to the moon. I rearranged my legs and gave another companionable yowl. Doc laughed again.
‘You’re a sweet little thing,’ he said. ‘I wish I could keep you. You’d be good company.’
I yawned. No one could replace my Elsie, but until I found her, being Doc’s friend could be interesting. I blinked at the stars. They felt closer here. So did Elsie. I snuggled deeper into Doc’s jacket and drifted back to sleep.