Contemporary Fantasy Book Series Based On Australian Folklore And Mythology
Bunyip Series by Tristan A. Smith
Series Excerpt
When Dougal and I returned to camp, we found that Cameron, Old Uncle and the boys had packed everything away and were ready to leave immediately. Despite our desperate desire to gallop home, we were now short one horse, and so our progress was to be heavily slowed. Dougal and Cameron agreed to travel on foot, with Old Uncle and Andrew on one horse, and me and my grandson Gerald on the other.
We travelled back towards home for the entire morning, without incident. Cameron and Dougal spoke quietly to each other as they walked a few yards behind our horses. Old Uncle rode listening to Andrew’s childish chatter and answering his endless questions with a patient and subtle joy. As the afternoon rolled by I came to enjoy my vicarious education through Andrew of Chinese culture. I learned with interest that the Chinese did not all speak one language, but that Chinese from different regions spoke various dialects and that they kept themselves in exclusive groups even when far away from China. This fact of segregation and xenophobia by the Chinese miners, even to their fellow Chinese, made the character of our Old Uncle all the more remarkable to me. Not only did he speak English, he even spoke at least one aboriginal dialect, that of the Djapwurrong. What motive had this old man to be a total contrast to his fellow countrymen? Why did he develop relationships with aborigines? Why did he mine for opals instead of gold? Why is he alone? The more I pondered on these questions, the more delighted and intrigued I was. I did not understand why Old Uncle was still travelling with us, given that we had recovered Gerald. Clearly, any obligation he felt to Dougal and Cameron for helping him escape the bush-rangers should then have been done with. Or was he simply seeing the matter through out of respect for his friend Michael? Well, whatever his motivations were, I had no objection to his company. In fact, I had come to welcome it. I did not wish him to part company with us at all.
Though Andrew was keen to engage Gerald in conversation, my poor frightened child remained silent and miserable. He clung to me now and then, and his little hands gripped me so firmly that I thought my heart would break. What horror he must have witnessed!
We travelled on at a good pace until high noon. It was then that we were suddenly ambushed.
Two bush-rangers casually appeared from the trees and blocked the road in front of us. They raised their rifles at our company.
Instantly, Dougal and Cameron had their own rifles aimed back at the bush-rangers, however it was no use. For behind us another two had appeared with rifles pointing at us. We were surrounded.
No one spoke a word for a tense minute. Then a fifth fellow appeared from the bush to our right. I recognised the scoundrel from Dougal’s description. It was Hank Hammond.
The dirty blonde man sneered with a cold and vicious authority. None of us were impressed. We each saw him as the pitiable school bully that he was. However, his men were armed, and we were surrounded and out-numbered.
“Well, well, well, McTavish.” Hank crooned. “We meet again. Only this time the surprise is on our side, eh?”
“State your business.” Dougal barked.
Hank leered to his companions and laughed. “Listen to him, boys. Still speaking like a man in charge. You were very impressive the other night, McTavish. Very frightening, certainly. But then you did come at us from nowhere and we were caught off guard. Now…well, things are little bit different now, aren’t they? Take their rifles, boys.”
“What do you want, Mr. Hammond?” I demanded, as we were disarmed.
Hank sauntered slowly over to us. “So, McTavish has told you about us, eh? Heh. Well, mister, you can get off the horses for a start.”
Carefully, we obeyed and a red-haired bush-ranger from behind us took the horses.
“Mind your step, Sir.” The red-haired bush-ranger mumbled to me in a thick Irish accent as I dismounted.
“Such courtesy is hardly expected from an outlaw.” I announced superciliously, looking this man square in the eye. He faltered under my gaze, then roughly led the horses away.
The six of us stood in a circle like penned sheep.
“What now, man?” I asked steadily.
Hank spat. He was clearly relishing his power over us. “You are in deep trouble now, Sir. I would be inclined to shut up and do what I was told if I were you.”
“We will obey you. What do you want? We do not have much of value about our person now, but I can certainly offer a handsome sum of money in return for our freedom.” I offered.
Hank seemed bemused. He fingered a whip curled at his side. “Yeah, that might do nicely. First though, we are going to teach that arrogant old chink a lesson. Then McTavish and his mate. Step forward chink.”
“Now wait a minute!” I bellowed with fierce indignation. “I will not surrender a single penny to you unless you can guarantee the safety of all of us, this Chinaman included!”
Hank pointed his rifle at my throat. His cold grey eyes sparkled with lupine malice. “You are not in a position to demand anything.” He growled quietly. “Step forward, chink.”
Old Uncle nodded gently to me and then stepped calmly forward.
Suddenly, little Gerald pushed away from me and ran to stand in front of the old Chinaman.
“Leave him alone!” He wailed, and then stood his ground, trembling from head to foot. His blonde curls shone in the sunlight under his cap, and his cheeks were blushing. He did not look at Hank but stood staring at the ground with his little fists clenched.
All of us stood astonished at this sudden defiance. Those words were the first that we had heard young Gerald utter since we had recovered him.
Shame slithered through the gang of bush-rangers and it told upon their faces. Hank sighed. “Get out of the way, boy, or you will be punished.”
“I will not get out of the way!” Gerald bellowed.
Hank laughed cruelly. “You are very brave little boy, aren’t you? But bravery has got nothing to do with it. You want proof? I will slit your little mate’s throat right in front of you.”
“Now that is enough!” Thundered Dougal, and he strode forward to meet the bushranger.
Hank pointed his knife at our brave Scotsman. “Don’t you move!”
Dougal stood beside Gerald and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You are a very brave lad.” He soothed. “But I will handle this from here. Go to your grandfather.”
“Oh, you will handle this, will you?” Hank shouted at Dougal, as Gerald came to me and I held him tight.
“Aye.” Dougal answered. A controlled contempt rumbled through his deep, melodious voice. “The young lad has shown more courage and character than the likes of all five of ye cowardly loons put together. Yet, I will do ye the courtesy of allowing ye to deal with a man from now on.”
“I am going to shoot you right in your arrogant face, McTavish.” Hank growled through gritted teeth.
“My name is not McTavish. It is Dougal MacDougall. And you will not shoot me right in my arrogant face. You will listen to my proposition.” Dougal returned. His hazel eyes held the villain.
“Heh. You got a proposition? You are seconds from hell…” Hank smirked.
“I thought it unlikely that even a group of outlaws as inept as yourselves could really be frightened away by a single old black. Ye let him go, not because ye were afraid, but because ye made an agreement with him. Is that not so?”
“Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. What of it?”
“Come man, we need not beat about the bush. Ye know of the opal, and ye could only have known about it from the old black. So what agreement has been made between ye?”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“There is more to this old black and the opal than you know, Mr. Hammond. Agreements made with a witch doctor must be treated very, very carefully.” Dougal rejoined.
Hank considered the Scotsman. “Alright. I s’pose it doesn’t matter now if I tell you. Yes. We had an accord with that old nigger. He was going to sacrifice the boy to appease some spirit, so he could take the opal. Now before you judge me on that score, rest assured that we had no intention of lettin’ a nigger kill a white child. We intended to do away with him as soon he delivered on his end of a bargain.”
“What bargain?” I asked.
“The old nigger said that there were men chasing him and that if we took care of those men, he would reward us with gold…gold that we could obtain from an old Chinese man wandering alone through the bush. Now, not an hour later, we came across that old chink there. He was wandering all alone in the bush, just like the nigger said. We were just about to question him about the gold when you men rudely interrupted us.”
Dougal turned to Old Uncle. “Pardon me, Uncle, do ye know anything about the gold these men are after? If so, please tell me now, Sir.”
Old Uncle inclined his head to acknowledge the respect in Dougal’s voice and manner. He then said. “Yes. There is much gold.”
If Dougal was surprised by what Old Uncle had said, he did not show it.
“There ye are, then.” Dougal announced with a hint of triumph. “There is gold to be had, but if ye are to get anywhere near it, ye already know the conditions. Not one of us is to be harmed – this Chinaman included.”
“How much gold? How much gold are we talking about?” Hank asked with blatant greed.
Old Uncle answered. “One gold nugget.”
An incredulous scoff circled through the bushrangers.
Hank raised an eye-brow laconically. “One gold nugget?”
Old Uncle nodded. “Yes. One gold nugget.”
Hank looked to the sky with a mocking sigh as his cronies laughed. “Right then. How big is this one gold nugget?”
Old Uncle took a moment to calculate it. “Nearly two thousand troy ounce.”
I felt my heart sink. Two thousand troy ounces would make the gold nugget the biggest nugget ever discovered. They would never believe it.
Hank gave a low whistle. “Two thousand troy ounces, eh? Sounds very impressive, chink. In fact, I don’t know whether any of us have ever heard of such a big nugget.”
Old Uncle nodded seriously. “I think, biggest nugget ever found.”
“Hank, I reckon he’s bluffing.” Answered an auburn haired, freckled ruffian with a squinting aspect.
“I don’t know, Ben.” Another responded. This bushranger was dark haired, pale, weak-chinned and had watery blue eyes. “If the nugget really is that big it is worth lookin’ into. What do you reckon, Roy?”
“Maybe you’re right, Ted, but the black didn’t mention that the gold would be in nugget as big as that, did he?” A gaunt, sneering red-head answered.
“Well, why would he?” Ted returned.
“Good point.” Roy conceded. “Look, I don’t know. I don’t trust chinks or coons. Red? What do you reckon?”
Red was also red-haired, but a shade darker than Roy. His aspect was also far less cold and violent. Red shrugged and then answered with his thick Irish accent. “I originally came to this district lookin’ for gold. Maybe they are tellin’ the truth, maybe they aren’t. But how much will it really cost us to find out which? I have wasted weeks diggin’ for gold and not getting much. I’d happily ride a day or two for the chance of a two thousand troy ounce nugget.”
Hank nodded, and the other bushrangers seem to find agreement.
“Well then,” the Dingo crooned. “Looks like we are going to believe you, Chink. For now. So…where to?”
Where to indeed!? Thought I.
“We have to go back to where buyip died.” Old Uncle answered plainly.
Hank considered Old Uncle, and then the rest of us in turn.
“Right.” He decided finally. “Back to the swamp we go then. We should be able to get there before dark if we leave right now.”
Dougal interrupted him. “If ye have other horses nearby, our progress will be quicker.”
Hank grunted. “That’s not a bad idea. Ben and Roy, go get the other horses. And bring the mining equipment – the picks and the shovels.”
Ben and Roy dutifully wandered away into the bush. Shortly they returned with seven horses, and so with our two our company now had nine.
I wondered that these men had more than one horse each nearby, but I soon learned that two were used as pack horses.
“What’s your name, boy?” Hank asked Gerald.
“Gerald.”
“Well, Gerald, just so there is no trouble I want you to ride with me. Any one tries anything – and I will cut you with my knife.”
“There is no need to threaten the boy.” I protested. “He has been traumatised enough, surely even you can understand that? Have you no sense of human compassion and decency?”
“I will not harm you, Gerald.” Hank continued, ignoring me. He addressed the child in a more conciliatory manner. “As long as you ride with me, your grandfather and these other men won’t try anything. You just have sit here and keep quiet until we get to the swamp. Agreed?”
Gerald looked up into my face with a weary sadness. “It’s alright, Granddad. I can ride with him.”
How my heart melted at his courage, and how my blood boiled at these scoundrels!
Yet, within a few moments, we were upon our horses and on our way. Hank rode with Gerald, all the men had their own horse – including Old Uncle, and little Andrew rode with his father.
As we rode I wearily and bitterly ruminated on how much longer we were to suffer through this horrible adventure. I had thought the fate of my poor horse Vernon was the last of our calamities, and that providence might spare us further tribulation on our journey home. However, there we were being escorted back into dangerous land by dangerous men.
On the way back to the swamp, we passed an enormous old, burnt out tree stump. Upon this sat a very large iguana, with rough dark scales and bright orange eyes. It would have been about six feet from head to tail, and its claws were sharp. Some call these animals ‘goanna’, which to my mind sounds very similar to ‘iguana’. A keen naturalist, I was struck by the uncommon nerve of the creature. Usually, these giant lizards rapidly ascend the nearest gum tree and then hide behind the trunk. This one sat still and cocky, its forked tongue languidly sliding in and out. It watched us all ride by, and its orange eyes seemed to be fixed upon each of our faces in turn. I voiced my surprise at the animal’s eye colour – iguanas usually have dark eyes. Nobody seemed interested in the matter, and the rest of our journey was silent.
Praesent id libero id metus varius consectetur ac eget diam. Nulla felis nunc, consequat laoreet lacus id.