Chapter Eleven

Kitty walked around the verandah the next morning, anxious to see the surrounds of her new home. The land around the house was cleared, and she could see down the hill to the river at the front, to where a man stood loading timber onto a punt. On one side of the house, the grass had been neatly cut and a few large, shady trees stood here and there. What a lovely spot to put a table and chairs for tea on a warm afternoon. However, when she crossed to the other side of the verandah, she saw garden beds on that side of the house had been laid out in an attempt to create a formal garden, but many of them were empty. Clearly this side needed work. Beyond the fences, two cows grazed in pastureland; these must be their milk cows.

The sun shone and a light breeze lifted the leaves on the trees and kept the day from becoming too hot, a perfect day for a walk. Kitty decided she would explore the surrounding countryside as she waited for Bella and Mary to arrive. Going through the front gate, she headed down the hill to the river.

Tied up at the bank was a large, flat punt, and a big, brawny man in working clothes was in the process of loading logs onto it from a huge pile that stood alongside. As she approached him, he stopped his labors and wiped his perspiring face with a cloth from his pocket.

“G’day, Mrs. Barron. Out for a walk, I see. Enjoying the sunshine, are you?”

“Indeed I am. And you must be Mr. Porter, am I right?”

His round red face beamed. “That’s me. Horace Porter. Usually called Tiny by all and sundry.”

“Do all you Australians have nicknames?” Kitty laughed. “Our young lad is called Bluey, though his name is Tom. Now why would that be?”

“Well, he’s got red hair, hasn’t he?”

Kitty laughed again, shaking her head. “And you’re called Tiny. I can see you like your little jokes.” She turned and indicated the pile of timber. “That’s a lot of logs you’ve got to load. One wonders it won’t sink the boat.”

“No, she’s built to take the load. Mind you, she don’t move too fast when she’s loaded, but she’ll get this lot down the river, no worries. Reliable old girl, she is.”

“And there’s another boat like this, I believe.”

“Yep, she’s up the river, closer to where they’re working now. Well, I better get on. Gotta finish loading these today. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barron.”

“And you, too, Mr. Porter.”

“Ho. Call me Tiny.”

How friendly everyone was.

Kitty made her way along the bank of the river, stopping often to gaze around. The land had been cleared on the banks, and she could see by the size of some of the stumps that many of the trees must have been giants. Rounding a bend she came upon a large stump left at seat height. She brushed its surface to remove a few leaves and twigs, sat down, and gazed out over the river. The stillness closed in around her. The only sound to be heard was the distant thud of axes as another forest giant was laid low, and the occasional call of a butcherbird. The peace and solitude engulfed her.

The smooth surface of the water in front reflected the sky, but across the other side, close to the opposite bank, the deep green of the trees lining the river was mirrored in the water. A fish leapt into the air, breaking the surface and causing a splash as it plopped back. Now, what would have caused it to do that? Was a larger fish chasing it, perhaps? Or was it simply the joy of living that caused its brief aerial display? Kitty watched as the eddies caused by the disturbance glinted silver in the sun. When the ever-widening rings faded away, she stood and resumed her walk.

Soon she reached the end of the cleared land. The forest came right down to the river, leaving no room to walk on the bank. The trees stood close together and vines and creepers twirled and twined around many of them. No sunlight penetrated the dense mass, and Kitty shivered a little as she imagined how easy it would be to become lost in its dark heart.

Turning, she followed a track alongside the forest, leading up and away from the river. Soon the trees began to thin out. Another track branched off and made its way into the forest, wending its way in amongst the trees. After hesitating a moment, she decided to see where it led.

It was cool in among the trees and she wandered along the track, stopping often to look up at the brightly colored birds flitting about. A sudden screech above her head made her stop to peer up. High above her, perched on the limb of a large eucalypt, a pink and gray parrot regarded her with beady eyes. As she watched, it fluffed its wings and the comb on top of its head stood up as it screeched again, several times in succession. It seemed as if it was screeching at her, so intensely did those beady eyes seem to be regarding her, but an answering screech from another tree drew her eye, and she saw it had been calling to its mate. A few moments later the maniacal laughter of a kookaburra sounded nearby, drowning out the screeches of the parrots and the chatter of the lorikeets. She stopped again, listening, and heard a second bird join in the laughing chorus. But this time the noisemakers, high above her, were not to be seen. What strange birds lived in her new home!

Reaching a clearing, Kitty stepped into the open and saw she had come to a settlement of some kind. Houses were dotted about in groups of twos and threes, dwarfed by the great trees growing near them. The track wound down and widened out into a dusty street. She followed it, passing a few cottages on the way, until she reached a large building with a horse trough and a hitching rail outside. Here she stopped. Three horses were tied to the rail but their riders were nowhere to be seen. ‘Plough Inn,’ she read from the sign swinging in the breeze. A chatter of voices came through a window that was open to the street, and as she looked inside she realized it was a bar, with a small group of men standing at it with tankards of ale before them.

A rider cantered along the street and halted. Dismounting, he tied his horse to the rail. Kitty moved on past the window, embarrassed to be seen staring inside. Tipping his hat to her, the rider said “G’day,” as he passed her on his way inside.

Kitty tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Good day,” she replied as she resumed her walk.

Feeling thirsty, she decided to see if she could buy a drink and crossed the street to a shop with the sign ‘General Store’ above the door.

“Good morning, what a pretty spot you have here,” she said to the tall, gaunt woman who came to serve her.

“Pretty enough, I guess. And would you be Mrs. Barron, then?” She wiped her hands on her apron.

“Why, yes, how did you know?”

“Not many strangers here in Bulahdelah.”

“Oh,” Kitty lifted her brows in surprise. “This is Bulahdelah, then?”

“Of course. What did you think it was?”

“I didn’t know. I’ve just walked down from our house, and I didn’t know where I was.”

“It’s the only town hereabouts, so it wasn’t likely to be anything else.”

“Of course not. How foolish of me. I wonder if you have something to drink? It’s quite warm out walking.”

“There’s some lemonade I just made this morning. Would that suit you?”

“Yes, please.”

“You’re English, aren’t you?” she asked, as she poured the drink and handed it to Kitty, then stood watching her drink, hands folded on the counter in front of her.

“Yes. My husband and I have decided to settle here and make this our home now.”

“The Palmers were from England, too. They’ve gone back now. She found it too isolated. And missed her family too much as well.”

“I see.” Kitty finished her drink and put the glass down. “I’m fortunate, my mother will be with us, otherwise I’m sure I’d miss her, too.” She placed a coin on the counter. “Is that enough?”

“Yes. Thank you.” The woman put it in the till. “You’re just married, aren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Kitty realized she and William were probably objects of interest to the local community. “Well, I must be getting back now. It’s been nice talking to you, Mrs…?”

“White, Mabel White. What’s your mother’s name?”

“ Arabella Morland.”

“And do you think she’ll like it here?”

Kitty saw Mrs. White was reluctant to end the conversation. “I’m sure she will. The countryside is beautiful.”

“Not a big place, Bulahdelah.”

“No. But I see you have an inn here.” Kitty gestured across the road. “Do you have many travelers travelers pass through?”

“Some. But there’s always people in there. The bar’s always busy.” She sniffed. “The local workers are partial to their ale, you know. And what with the fishermen from the Myall Lakes coming in as well as the farm workers and the timber cutters, there’s always a few men around. To say nothing of the land owners who come from round about for their business meetings.” She sniffed again. “Least that’s what they call them, closeted in that private parlor for hours.”

Small villages were obviously the same the world over, Kitty thought with amusement. Nothing remained unnoticed. She smiled as she moved away from the counter. “Goodbye for now, Mrs. White. I must get along. Thank you for the drink, it was delicious.”

“Well, I hope you settle in all right. Time will tell.”

“Indeed it will.”

Looking around Bulahdelah as she went back the way she came, she remembered Rufe’s words about the solitude of the area. It was certainly a smaller community than she had imagined when William told her about it.

****

When Kitty told William of her walk at dinner that night he frowned. “I really don’t like you traipsing all over the place like that, Kitty. It’s not seemly for the wife of the most important man in the area.”

“Oh, William, really. I was out walking and just stumbled over Bulahdelah. It’s a very small village, isn’t it? I had a drink at the general store and a chat with Mrs. White who served me. There’s no harm in that.”

His mouth set in a stubborn line of disapproval. “There’s no one in the town that’s suitable for you to associate with. There are only shopkeepers and workers living there, not our class at all.”

“But William, we can’t bury ourselves away here without any other company.”

“That’s why we’ll have your mother living with us, my dear. She will keep you company. That should be enough for you.” He picked up his glass and drank some wine, obviously considering the matter closed.

Kitty took a deep breath. “I appreciate you having her come to live with us, but I would like to make the acquaintance of some of the other ladies nearby.”

“I’ll let you know when I find some landowners who are fit to associate with.” He picked up his glass again. “This is really excellent wine, Kitty. By the way, I received a letter from Anne today. If you feel the need of further company we’ll arrange for her and George to come for a visit.”

Kitty sighed and let the matter drop.

****

William was enjoying himself. He liked being a boss. This is what I’m good at, he told himself as he rode around with Morgan, inspecting the gangs at work.

The first gang was working in the forest upriver from the house. They stopped to watch the work for a while.

The cutters fascinated William as they swung their axes rhythmically. With each tree they felled he mentally envisioned it as money in the bank.

A rough timber scaffold stood above a shallow pit. Here, two men used a crosscut saw to cut each log into more manageable lengths. One stood atop the structure, holding the handle of the long steel blade, which he pushed down through the log. His partner on the ground below pulled down on the handle at the other end, then pushed up as the stroke was reversed. Their even strokes made the sawdust fly as the formerly majestic giant was reduced to lumber.

Another group split timber into logs, ready to be taken to the river’s edge and loaded onto the waiting punt. All very busy, William observed happily.

“Everything looks to be satisfactory here,” he told Morgan when he grew tired of watching.

“Then perhaps you’d like to inspect the store now?”

“Yes. We’ll do that next.”

A genial man with a shiny bald head fringed by wispy hair, greeted them outside the hut that served as the store.

“G’day, Jack. Howdy, Mr. Barron. Come to see how we run things here, have yer?”

“I have.”

“This is Curly Jones,” Morgan introduced him.

William nodded before dismounting and following the storekeeper inside the hut. He looked around and saw the room was lined with shelves, each one filled with packages and boxes.

“What do we keep here?” he asked.

“Everything the men could want in the way of non-perishables. They get their fresh stuff locally but we’ve got everything from tea, sugar and flour right down to soap and kerosene for the lamps.”

“How are the goods paid for?”

“The men draw what they want against their wages, and I keep a tally of everything they take. Then I pass it on to Jack, and he works out how much has to come out of their wages.”

“I see.” William narrowed his eyes. “And how often do you pass on the records?”

“Every month.”

“I think that’s too long. In future you will do it every week. And you can bring the records straight to me.”

Curly wrinkled his brow and ran his hand over his head. “It’s always worked fine this way. Once a month is when…”

William cut him off. “In future we’ll do it as I’ve said.”

“Okay, Mr. Barron.” He shrugged. “Seems like extra work for nothin’ though, to me.”

“Don’t argue with Mr. Barron,” Morgan said. “What he says goes, he’s the boss.”

“Quite,” William turned and left the store. “So, where to next?” he asked when they had remounted.

“Over to where the other gang is working.”

They rode along a narrow bush track, with Morgan leading the way.

William was turning over the details of his visit to the store in his mind. It annoyed him that his orders had been questioned. It would never happen in England, but out here the workers had no idea how to behave toward toward their masters. There was this ‘Jack is as good as his master’ attitude that he found irritating. Well, he would show them who was boss around here.

Then his mind wandered to thoughts of Kitty. He was very happy with his marriage. What a good choice he had made. She was beautiful. He had seen the admiration in other men’s eyes when he had her on his arm, which pleased him immensely, for she belonged to him. Her only fault was certain willfulness; she could be a little headstrong at times. He frowned. Well, he would have to make sure he subdued that. She must learn she had no choice but to do as he wished.

But what pleasure she brought to his bed. The very thought of her caused a stirring in his loins. Yes, he had chosen well.

He decided he would allow her to accompany him occasionally as he went about the property, once he knew his way around. She rode well, and she had asked to come with him. It would gratify him to please her and, besides, it would be pleasant to have her company at times.

The sound of axes brought him back to his surroundings. They seemed to have come a long way. He looked around him as they reached the second gang. Everything looked much the same as at the other site.

“How far are we here from the other gang?” he asked after he had ridden around and surveyed the work in progress.

“About a mile,” Morgan replied.

“So, we have to transport the timber all that way to the river, at my cost.” His tone was scathing. “Madness. We should be cutting down close to the river, then we could work our way up here when all that timber is gone.”

“But…”

“No buts at all. Order the men to remove what they’ve cut here, and then to commence cutting next to the river.”

“But Mr. Barron…”

William cut him off. “Not another word. Those are my orders.”

Morgan took a deep breath, leaning back in his saddle. “Very well, if that’s what you want.”

“It is. And now I’m going back. You remain here and pass on my orders.”

“Just as you say, boss.”

William turned his horse and rode back along the track, well satisfied that he had shown Morgan how astute he was.

That night he boasted to Kitty of how he had been too clever for his workers and had foiled their plan to take advantage of him.

****

“Perhaps you would care to accompany me on my rounds of the estate this morning, my dear??” William asked Kitty as they left the breakfast table a few days later.

“Yes, I’d love to, William.” Kitty was delighted, this would be the first step in her goal, which was to learn as much about the business as possible. Changing into her riding habit, she hurried to join him at the stables.

They rode down to the river where the punt had been moored. It was no longer there.

“It’s gone down the river with its load,” William told her in reply to her query.

“How long till it returns?”

“Several days. It’s rather an unwieldy vessel, heavy and cumbersome, and slow. But ideal for its job; it can carry exceedingly large amounts of timber.”

They headed in the opposite direction Kitty had taken for her walk, until they reached the first gang, and reined in their horses.

It was the first time Kitty had seen the men at work and she sat watching everything intently, while William circled the clearing. She could easily follow the sequence of operations that converted the trees into the timber ready for milling.

Dismounting, she walked over to some logs that had already been split by the sawyers and ran her fingers reverently over the rich, deep red wood, allowing them to trace the grain.

“How beautiful, and what a wonderful smell it has. I take it this is cedar?” she asked one of the splitters, who stopped work to answer her.

“Yep, red gold it is, I reckon. Prized all over the world,” he added with pride, “and there’s plenty of it gone into building your house, too.”

“Did you help to build it?”

“Yes, most of the boys here lent a hand, in one way or another.”

“Then I must thank you all.” She smiled. “It’s turned out beautifully. What’s your name?”

“Joe Barnes.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Joe. I hope to get to know you all before long.”

William had been watching the exchange with annoyance. He could see the men were all watching Kitty and while he didn’t mind seeing the obvious admiration on their faces, he wanted her to remain aloof.

“Kitty,” he called impatiently. “We must move on. There’s much ground to cover yet.”

Kitty hated his patronizing manner. “Of course, William,” she said, before turning back to Joe Barnes. “Thank you for your information, Joe.” Wordlessly she walked back to her horse and remounted.

“I really wish you wouldn’t encourage their familiarity, Kitty,” he said as they moved away.

“So much depends on our workers. Surely it’s a good thing to have their goodwill?”

“I don’t need their goodwill. I’ll be a rich man before long, with or without their goodwill.”

Kitty wished he would relax a little, try to see that things were different here in Australia.

“Red gold,” she said to herself, looking up at the trees. Would they bring William the wealth he expected?