Fire Eye (12 page)

On the way into the homestead, Jed and Alex pass Aboriginal stockmen on their horses, riding proud and confident among stray cattle, collecting stragglers at the end of a long day. The riders radiate relaxed competence and give a friendly wave as they drive by.

Narraburra homestead crouches behind a levee bank surrounding a good five acres of country. A four metre wide, mesh-enclosed verandah acts as a protective shield around the living quarters of the house, keeping out flies, mosquitoes, heat and anything else unwelcome. The outside of the house is shaded by a protective ring of trees to deflect the heat of the sun. Green lawn watered from a bore adds a cool, relaxing touch. To the west of the homestead they can see a mixture of outbuildings, sheds, stockyards and machinery that form the infrastructure of any outback station. In the distance, they can see a collection of roofs that could be the stockman’s quarters. At the back of the homestead is a safe, fenced enclosure for the breeding stallion. The horse is nibbling at the feed left for him; he is an all-black stallion, strong and well-shaped, radiating power and temperament as he feeds quietly.

Stuart Brockman welcomes them, standing tall in faded moleskins, scuffed R. M. Williams boots and an open-necked shirt. His face is framed by curly dark brown hair and his features are open but strong, with a slight shading of stubble fighting back from an early morning shave. He is in his mid-fifties and his skin is tanned a deep brown by the sun, his shirt barely concealing hard muscles honed by years of cattle work, fencing and horse breaking.

“Come inside and git outta the dust. The wife’s away with family so it’s just me,” he encourages as he guides them into the house. The living room is huge, dominated by an open fireplace to cater for the nights that locals consider cold, around which are arranged a couch and armchairs. Timber bookcases and a dresser line the walls, along with a gun cabinet holding six rifles and shotguns, safely secured. Toward the back of the open plan space is the kitchen and dining table, while in the background a CB radio squawks the odd message across the ether.

“Can’t have you camping tonight!” Stuart growls huskily as they check out the living room. “The spare rooms are free so you’re welcome to them. Good to have some company.”

He escorts them to their rooms, each with a double bed, antique bush furniture and dado-clad walls with double doors opening onto the wide verandah. He leaves them alone to get settled, searching out his beer for company.

Alex and Jed dump their gear and make a quick inspection of the facilities. “This place is huge,” says Jed. “We’ll need a cut lunch to go to the bathroom.” The long side of the verandah has impressed him with its forty-five metre length—he could put a pistol range in there or zero a rifle.

“Didn’t know you had a weak bladder!” Alex teases. “It happens when you get old!”

“Hmmph!” is his only reply as they head back to the living room.

At the end of the brief inspection, Jed knows the offer of country hospitality can’t be refused. “Thanks Stuart, this’ll be wonderful. It’ll be great to get a good night’s sleep! Have you eaten yet—maybe I can rustle something up?”

“I won’t knock that back,” he replies eagerly, offering Jed a can. “There’s a fresh cut of beef in the fridge. Like a beer Alex?”

“Love one, Stuart!” She would prefer a cool wine, but recognises she is definitely in a man’s world.

Jed sips on the beer and looks around the kitchen, spotting everything he needs through the open door of the walk-in pantry. While they talk he takes out the beef, finds a chopping board and knife and starts to cut the beef into pieces as Alex watches appraisingly.

“Cut it reasonably chunky,” she suggests. “It can cook slow for a good hour and be nice and tender.”

Jed skips the wok and finds a heavy pan to get the meat underway with some onion, stock and garlic. He brings in some supplies from the car and Alex watches him sort through them as they make small talk. After the beer, they crack a bottle of red and sip its luxurious flavours as the meat simmers.

“The meat’s been hung so it should be nice and tender,” Stuart confirms. “Meat that is really fresh is tougher and blander than when it’s been hung. Hanging allows time to break down the fibres, making the texture softer and the flavour better. This should be really good! I don’t cook much when the wife is away.”

“A stew is quick and simple but I can add a few tricks,” Jed promises as he prepares some vegetables.

Alex has watched him at work and can’t restrain herself any longer. “Can I help?” she asks in a tone that doesn’t expect no for an answer. “Let’s have a decent meal so let me help!” she says, searching through the pantry and ingredients Jed has brought in. In no time at all she whips together a combination of herbs and spices that she adds to the simmering pan without asking permission.

“What do you mean, decent?” Jed tosses back as he works on the vegetables.

“Have a drink with Stuart and let me work magic or stay and be sous chef, but leave the creativity to me!” she announces in a tone expecting dissent.

Jed avoids the challenge and stays to help, although he doesn’t submit totally. He takes some initiative and goes over to the pot to check it as they talk. As he gives the contents a stir, Alex watches him, then joins him by the stove. “Stir it from the outside in,” she commands, taking the spoon from him. “Outside in! Always outside in to mix the flavours! I’ve been told I’m a bit domineering and a bully, well not quite a bully, but maybe an unemployed sergeant major or even an infant school mistress. What do you think?” she asks.

Well
, Jed considers. If he’d thought of it maybe he would have used the sergeant major metaphor, if he was brave enough! “Not at all baby, I’m anticipating the outcome with excitement!”
Good cover
, he decides!

She puts down the spoon, turns to face him with her hands on her hips, standing straight with feet apart and hits him with that narrow-eyed look. “I’m nobody’s baby and don’t even think it!” she fires back like a point blank broadside from a battleship.

“You two have got to be married! Will we end up with something good to eat?” Stuart asks as he leans back with his wine watching the performance.

Alex and Jed look at him, at each other, then back to him. “We always play like this,” Jed says bravely. He senses the narrow-eyed look again and avoids eye contact.

“I’d love to see a fight then!” Stuart responds with an alcohol-fuelled chuckle.

Alex stirs the pan then tastes it with a long-handled spoon. “I think this will work out. Just give it time to cook and for the flavours to do their magic,” she pronounces. “Who’s for another wine?” she asks, holding up the bottle of red. “Rice, we need rice!” she adds, putting another pot on the stove. “Take care of it sous!” she instructs. “If you think you can handle it!”

Jed takes up the challenge with a smile.
Bloody rice!
After their dinner at Maldini’s he has a better handle on her and isn’t offended. Her need for control seems like a parallel strategy to his use of the principal role to keep people and emotions at bay. He has grown a bit in her company and has nothing to prove so he takes care of the rice.

Stuart is far more than a cowboy farming cattle. He has a degree in agriculture, flies his own aircraft on station business, reads extensively and can converse on a range of topics. They sip wine and talk about the outback, cattle, horses, aircraft, hunting and ancient history until the meal is ready. The conversation continues over the dinner table.

“This is pretty good!” Stuart appraises as he goes for seconds. “Do you two always cook like this?” he asks, spooning another load into his mouth.

Jed takes the lead on that. “We’ll get better with practise,” he tries.
What a risk—too much bloody wine!
He can feel her eyes appraising him, but doesn’t make eye contact.

“He cooks alright,” Alex allows condescendingly, “but he needs direction and supervision from a master!”

They look sideways at each other, eyes of steel boring unflinchingly into each other while Stuart tucks unawares into the last of the meal. Neither is willing to give ground and Stuart is a welcome distraction from the clash of wills.

“I don’t mind how much you guys fight if I get a meal like this!” he announces, pushing his plate aside. “Fantastic!” Stuart leans back with the last of the wine and becomes philosophical. “This country needs people like you. You should think about moving up here and building a life.”

Jed and Alex have the same thought but don’t share it.
Us! Have a life up here! Together!
They look at each other pondering the scenario, but saying nothing. They give no sign of it but each sees the appeal of the tough, independent lifestyle. Neither will admit there is room for the other in the vision.

“Timing’s not right,” Jed throws in for both of them. “We both have commitments.”

“A real shame,” Stuart responds. “You could do well up here with some effort.”

Alex twirls the wine glass between her fingers and thinks about her own fifty hectares, the horses and dogs calling it home, the stone house slowly being renovated and her own need for space and privacy. It is an attractive thought but all she says is, “It’s time for me to get some sleep. Thanks for a great evening boys. I’ll leave you both to talk about whatever boys talk about.”

Jed is tempted to follow but knows it isn’t the time or place so he says goodnight as she goes out to the verandah, her steps fading toward her room.

“You heading out to the coast?” Stuart asks when they are alone.

“All the way,” Jed replies.

“That’s tough country. Thick scrub and swamp behind the coast. Only been through there once myself. Not much to see so never went back.”

“We’re doing some research and photography for an article.” Jed feels guilty about lying, but it is simpler all round. “With luck we should only need three days, say four at most. We’ll check in on the way back or leave a note if you’re not here.”

“That’ll be fine. If you need anything you can call on the radio as you pass through. You got a radio in the truck?”

“No, only an EPIRB for emergencies, but it would have to be bad to set that off. Too embarrassing!” Jed confides.

“Yeah, understand that,” Stuart agrees with a smile. “Time to hit the sack. If you hear any noises during the night, it’ll probably be pigs being a nuisance around the horses. They’re real bastards at the moment!”

“Take a lot to wake me!” Jed replies with conviction. “See you in the morning Stuart.”

They head to their rooms and soon the sounds of men preparing for bed die away. Silence and darkness descend on the homestead as Alex pulls the doona tightly around her and snuggles into the pillows, trying to decide whether she wants or misses the goodnight dramas of the last three nights.

It is the noises that drag Jed out of a rare deep sleep. First the rustle of branches and leaves against the outside wall of the bedroom as a gentle night breeze teases the trees, the sharp calling of a bird just outside the verandah, then the excited barking of the dogs up behind the homestead. These sounds are joined by the nervous neighing of horses galloping in erratic spurts around their enclosure, followed soon after by the sound of Stuart’s boot clad feet clumping up to the living room.

Jed snaps awake and rolls out of the double bed, slipping on denim jeans, black T-shirt, socks and boots. He slips a compact, high intensity Nightstalker torch into a pocket and joins Stuart in the living room, where he finds him opening the gun cabinet.

“Bloody pigs are back again stirring up the horses. One of them is a real nuisance. Killed a stock horse last month! Can you use one of these?” he asks Jed, holding up a Winchester 30/30 mounted with a four-power scope.

“No problems Stuart,” Jed responds, taking the rifle. “Used to have one.” He catches the box of cartridges Stuart tosses at him, empties some on the couch and starts to feed them into the loading gate on the side of the action. As he slips the first in, he leaves the base exposed so he can place the nose of the next cartridge against it to push it all the way in. He repeats the procedure until he loads six rounds, but doesn’t work the lever so the chamber remains empty. Stuart watches him as he picks out a rifle for himself, satisfied Jed knows what he is doing.

“Six loaded, chamber empty,” Jed states aloud.

Jed in turn watches Stuart pull back the bolt on the Winchester Model 70. “Wouldn’t the .308 be better? The 22/250 might be a bit light for pigs.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, but the rounds for the .308 are locked away in the safe. This is my fox gun and I’ve got a few rounds handy. This is no time to be fussy. Chamber clear,” he confirms.

Jed picks up one of the 22/250 cartridges and sees they are loaded with an eighty-five grain soft-point. “You’ll have to go for a heart or head shot.”

“No problems at this range,” Stuart announces with confidence and Jed doesn’t doubt him.

Alex joins them in the living room, sees them both cradling rifles and with the sounds in the background can guess what is happening. “Pigs?”

“Yep!” Stuart replies. “Hope they haven’t got through the fence. The stallion is a top breeding horse!”

“Horses see pigs as a predator. They’ll be stressed and frightened! What are you going to do?” she demands.

“Scare the bastards off or maybe shoot a few! Don’t worry, the horses are used to the sound of a shot. Pigs are something else!” Stuart explains. As they leave the living room Jed flicks off the living room lights. Alex follows onto the verandah to a side door from where they can see into the horse enclosure.

“Our eyes will adjust to the dark,” Jed says. The yellow-tinted glow from the moon and the bedroom lights provide subtle background illumination. “Stuart, if you go right and get on the tank you can get a good view over the enclosure with the .250. I’ll go left. Between us we’ll be able to cover the whole area.” He stands the Winchester butt down between his knees and pulls off his T-shirt and throws it on the steps. “You’ll be able to see me better now.” He pulls out the Nightstalker torch from his back pocket and holds it between the fingers of his right hand under the fore end of the Winchester. Alex notices he is left handed with the rifle. Jed cycles the action to place a round in the chamber and sets the hammer on half cock.

They make the plan up on the spur of the moment, but Stuart and Jed move together as if they have done it many times before. Having shared the experience of hunting, they work as a natural team with a minimum of communication and natural respect. Alex watches as Jed starts moving left while Stuart takes a position on top of the water tank. The dogs increase the frenzy of their barking as vague, shadowy shapes flit through the darkness, tempted by the tantalising targets almost within reach. Alex can see the horses galloping in short spurts, then stopping to step sideways in bouts of nervousness. The stallion is the worst and she can see him on the edge of going berserk with the stress.

The shadowy black shapes dart fleetingly in the moonlight across the compound. “Pigs are in!” Stuart yells with concern.

Jed doesn’t respond but keeps sliding along the wire mesh fence, rifle at the ready and pulls the hammer back to full cock. He flicks the torch on and slides the lens all the way forward with his fingers as he holds it under the rifle. It throws a narrow spot of light a good distance across the compound. He sees a black shape flit across in front of him and brings the Winchester up in a smooth, flowing movement and fires a snap shot. The shot creates a flash of light like lightning and a blast of noise that makes Alex flinch as the shape cartwheels from the impact of the one hundred and seventy grain bullet.

The stallion rears up in fright and gallops randomly around the enclosure in a burst of alarmed energy. It is driven by a fear that can end up with him breaking a leg or impaling himself. Aware of the danger, Alex looks around in desperation and sees a rope hung neatly on the fence. She grabs it, uncoils it with a flick of her wrist, ties a quick knot to make a lasso and races into the enclosure. As the stallion stops momentarily in a nervous freeze, she throws the loop over its head, tightens it gently but firmly and eases him toward her while bracing her legs. She throws her left arm over his neck, using the rope in her right hand to pull him into a circling clockwise walk, creating the nearest thing to a feeling of security. In the wild a frightened horse will hook its neck over another for security. Here she does the same, trying to copy nature.

Wary of the recent gunshot, a boar eyes the slowing stallion, now a tempting target with its exposed belly. At that very moment Stuart fires at the pig, the eighty-five grain projectile hitting just behind its shoulder for a heart shot that should drop it to the ground. But a thick layer of dried clay impregnated among its wiry hair above a layer of thick skin and fat acts like an armour plate. The bullet disintegrates as it expends its energy into the impenetrable barrier, hitting the boar with an impact that shocks it more than it hurts. It spins around and races for the opening torn into the wire mesh around the compound. Between it and safety are Alex and the stallion still just held under control, stepping sideways in a clockwise circle around her in barely contained panic.

Jed sees the dark shape explode toward Alex and the stallion. As she circles the horse Alex catches a brief glimpse of the shadowy shape lunge toward her and the stallion. Jed has been here before and knows that nothing will stop a boar in full charge to safety. His reaction is instantaneous. The angle between Alex and the boar is closing fast. He brings the Winchester up smoothly, estimates the lead for a quartering head on shot and touches the trigger. The Winchester recoils upward as the muzzle blast echoes across the compound. The bullet smashes into the boar’s chest, destroying its heart and it slides to the ground in a cloud of dust as its front legs collapse. It comes to a tumbling stop, only metres from Alex. She sees the black shape lying in a sprawled heap in the dust but doesn’t stop and keeps the stallion circling, still talking in a low tone.

Both Jed and Stuart see another shadowy shape dart across the compound straight toward the mesh fence. They are both distracted by Alex and the stallion and have to reload, Stuart working the bolt action and Jed flicking the lever action. They see the boar, a big one, crash into the fence, dig its tusks into the ground and lift its head up and sideways, ripping the mesh out of the ground. They both take aim and fire, just as the boar slips under the mesh and disappears into the darkness.

“That’s a fucking big pig!” Jed yells to Stuart as he returns into the light coming from the bedrooms. “Sorry,” he corrects with embarrassment as he sees Alex still circling the stallion, “That was a bloody big pig!”

“A fucking big, lucky bastard!” Stuart yells in reply. “He’ll be back sometime!”

Jed watches Alex continue a few more circles, soothing the stallion until they slowly come to a stop. He watches her stroke him and gently slip the rope from his neck as the dogs stop barking and the normal sounds of the night take over. They walk together over to Stuart, who jumps down from the tank rifle in his hand.

“You can use that 30/30!” he says to Jed with approval.

“That was a good snap shot on the boar Stuart. The 85s are just too light with the mud!” Jed responds. They both look to Alex and then to each other as Stuart flicks his head to the side. Jed takes the hint. “It was a good move with the horse Alex. That one could have gone crazy and caused itself grief.”

“I can agree with that!” Stuart confirms. “You’re a cool lady under pressure.”

They return to the living room to lock up the rifles and wind down with a cup of tea. “That big boar will have to go, otherwise he’ll just keep coming back,” Stuart concludes.

“Horses are terrified of pigs! Can’t you do something about them?” Alex asks with a hint of accusation.

“There’re thousands of them out there Alex,” Stuart responds after a few moment’s thought. “They get hammered by shooters in helicopters and hunters on foot but will always be there. It’s part of the outback. We just have to learn to cope. Tourists may love the romance of the Territory but the reality can be brutal. Nature is harsh and cruel with no forgiveness.”

“I know that Stuart,” Alex responds abruptly. “I’ve been around animals and nature for a long time. I just thought the enclosure could be a bit more secure.”

“I did my best Alex. Those pigs have strength you can’t imagine!”

“I bred pigs,” Alex throws back. “I know what they can do. I fought one off with a shovel once!” Jed and Stuart both look at her in surprise.

“Okay Alex, I’ll get the boys to put some time in on the pigs and strengthen the mesh. That’s about all I can do.”

Alex accepts the affirmation of her concerns. They settle into less confronting chatter before the urge for rest lures them back to their beds. When the lights go out the homestead descends into darkness, caressed by the gentle glow of the moon and a wafting night breeze. Faint creaks from the timber building are complemented by the occasional call from bird and insect life making the night their own. Finally, the gentle, caressing tentacles of sleep claim them for the last few hours before dawn.