Earth, page 6
‘So your officer had been alerted to the fact that a felony had occurred and began his investigations?’
‘Without my permission, your honour.’
‘But with initiative and having made assumptions which proved correct.’
‘I am concerned, your honour, that the crime did not warrant the punishment. One sheep does not equal three lives in my opinion.’
‘In your opinion, Captain Hindsmith, it would be better to allow the continued depredations on the flocks of Western District graziers.’
‘That’s not what I believe, your honour.’
‘Do you believe the investigating party were set upon by the natives using stolen firearms?’
‘No.’
‘There are several witnesses.’
‘With due respect, your honour, the witnesses were participants.’
‘Thank you, Captain, you may step down. Please call Mr Arnold Tomkins. Ah yes, Mr Tomkins . . . ah, you must hold the bible in your right hand Mr Tomkins . . . the right hand, which in this case is the other one, and swear the oath. Very good. Now, Mr Tomkins, I understand rifles have recently gone missing from William Angliss’ property.’
‘Well, they’re not where they were, Judge.’
‘Your honour.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Please refer to me as your honour.’
‘Rightyo.’
‘The guns went missing when, Mr Tomkins?’
‘Few months ago, sir.’
‘And, you’ve not seen them since?’
‘No.’
‘Could they have fallen into the hands of the deceased, in your opinion.’
‘I don’t know whose hands they fell into. I went lookin’ for one a few months back and they was gone, they could have been gone for a year. Mr Angliss only uses ‘em in the quail season and ‘e never went out this year coz of his leg. Bit of gout like.’
‘As you say. But these same guns were found in the camp of the deceased. Isn’t that so?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Your honour.’
‘Your honour. That’s what I’ve been told by McCallum. I suppose that’s them.’
‘Thank you, Mr Tomkins, that will be all. Ladies and Gentlemen, I think – ’
‘Excuse me, your honour.’
‘Yes, Mr Degrove?’
‘The prosecution has one further witness, your honour, who believes he saw those guns after the . . . ah, the apprehension of the deceased. May I call Mr Frank Palmer.’
‘As you will, Mr Degrove. Any evidence directly bearing on these guns is obviously admissible. Please step up, Mr Palmer. So, you’ve a direct recollection of seeing the weapons in question?’
‘I reckon I saw those guns under a bolt of canvas in Sir William Angliss’s saddle room in March, your honour.’
‘And how do you calculate that, Mr Palmer?’
‘Well, Mr Angliss said he only had three guns and under that canvas I saw three guns.’
‘The same three guns.’
‘Yeah, I reckon they were.’
‘Not new guns bought to replace the old?’
‘Well, I don’t know.’
‘Mr Palmer, please read out to the court the make of each of the guns found at the blacks’ camp and compare it to the inventory of William Angliss’s weapons.’
‘Ah, excuse me, your honour.’
‘Yes, Mr Degrove?’
‘The witness doesn’t read, your honour.’
‘Indeed. Does he read the calendar sufficiently well to know one month from the next.’
‘I know my seasons, your honour.’
‘We’re not talking seasons, Palmer, we’re talking exact days and weeks, when it comes to serious accusations of this kind we are anxious that witnesses are conscious of the seriousness of the charges they seek to support.’
‘It was March the fourth, your honour, three days before my wife’s birthday.’
‘Well done, Mr Palmer. And I’m reading here that you say Angliss gave you the canvas in gratitude at you finding two of his horses?’
‘Yes, your honour.’
‘And where, exactly, were the horses found, Mr Palmer?’
‘On a flat down by the river, your honour, just downstream from Lockington.’
‘And all of Angliss’s horses and all of Angliss’s men had not been able to get them back again?’
‘It’d be easy to miss ‘em down in that part of the river country, your honour, the blackberries took hold something fierce. I’ve been fencin’ it, your honour, the foals come in to have a look at my carthorse. That’s how I come to see ‘em.’
‘You were very fortunate, Mr Palmer. A very lucky find indeed. And were you satisfied with your reward, Mr Palmer?’
‘Very happy, your honour, the canvas ‘as come in very handy.’
‘And the iron?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And the timber?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And the door.’
‘The door was a surprise to me too, sir.’
‘And it’s a surprise to me, Mr Palmer that the prosecution would call a witness who is related to one of the deceased, to the felon Moorabool.’
‘I’m not related to Moorabool, your honour.’
‘His child is, I understand, in your care.’
‘We’re just looking after him, your honour.’
‘And you’re not related to him in any way? I understand you were the nephew of the late Billy Wurrun? And furthermore do you have any knowledge of how the body of one of the three thieves came to disappear from the back of the police station?’
‘I don’t know about that, your honour.’
‘But you know enough to take a black child into your house, even while your own wife is pregnant?’
‘It’s Christian charity, your honour.’
‘Christians go to church, Mr Palmer.
‘Christians are always in the house of the Lord, your honour, wherever they may be.’
‘Even when they live within a stone’s throw of the church? Indeed. After consulting my records, Mr Palmer, I have decided to call for an investigation into the welfare of the child, Augustus alias Woorer, is that how you say it, Woorer, charming, but in the meantime I find, the case against the accused dismissed for want of one piece of solid evidence that the accused were not attacked while in the responsible course of their duties. All rise.’
*
‘Quite a nice room you’ve built here, Mr Palmer.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It must have been difficult on your income to provide the materials.’
‘I do odd jobs. Bit of fencin’, bit of fishin’.’
‘And Angliss’s generosity helped a great deal.’
‘Yes.’
‘And Mr Snodgrass’s boat.’
‘Yes.’
‘And these many occupations would take you away from the family a deal of the time, and your wife also, would be away from the house with her midwifery.’
‘We manage.’
‘And at no time is the child, Augustus, left alone?’
‘No. On the odd occasion when we’re both out, the boy takes care of the baby.’
‘The boy?’
‘My grandson.’
‘And your wife’s pregnant, I believe.’
‘Yes.’
‘Becoming a little crowded.’
‘Not with the new room.’
‘Have you sought help from the Department of Native Affairs.’
‘I’m . . . I’m not Aboriginal. I have no cause to go to them.’
‘As you wish. Well, thank you for helping with the enquiries, Mr Palmer, the Child Welfare Department will communicate with you when they’ve made their decision.’
‘What decision?’
‘About the greater welfare of the child you’ve taken into your house without authority, the child which was to be directed to Mr Angliss, despite the various infirmities from which, you report, the child suffers. The blindness and lameness and the like. Sufficient cause alone for us to demand that you present with the child for medical examination at Geelong by the end of next week at the latest.’
*
‘Listen, Claudie, I’ve gotta do the examination. I’ve got a court order here.’
‘You must know how they treat the babies in the homes, Violet? Left all alone in their cots all day.’
‘I know, I know, Claudie, but how can I say the kid’s blind and lame an’ bronchial an’ simple all at the one time.’
‘He might have a turned eye . . . slightly?’
‘I suppose.’
‘And you can hear he’s got a weak chest.’
‘That might just be a cold.’
‘But he might.’
‘Yes.’
‘An’ his right leg looks a bit short, don’t ya think?’
‘How can ya tell with babies, Claudie?’
‘Well, Violet, ya can’t tell but if it was important you could say he had a crook leg: no man is goin’ ta know the difference. Remember when I delivered your first, remember how he got the cord stuck around his neck! He didn’t look too good for a few weeks, did he?’
‘No.’
‘Might have died if we hadn’t slipped his noose when we did. You might have lost him, Violet, your first child. Imagine it.’
‘Alright, Claudie, don’t go on. The eye perhaps, but not the leg.’
‘What about the lungs? Listen to ‘em.’
‘I’ll mention the lungs.’
‘An’ he is a bit simple. He’s not walkin’ yet.’
‘For goodness sake, Claudie, he’s only eight months old, what do you expect?’
‘But no man’ll know the difference. You could say – reluctant to walk . . . difficulty crawling.’
‘He’s crawling all right, Claudie, look at him.’
‘But you could say that, Violet for the love of God and for the fortune of your own first born you could say that because men don’t look at ‘em before they can walk, they wouldn’t know if they was crawlin’ proper or not. You could say that, Violet . . . you could say that for me . . . an’ Frank. You got that load of firewood all right?’
‘Was that Frank left that load out the back?’
‘And the oysters.’
‘An’ a nice snapper too, Claudie, ya shoulda seen it. We didn’ ‘ave a pan big enough.’
‘You could say it Violet . . . for the love of God an’ the least of his little ones you could say it.’
‘Alright, Claudie, leave it alone now, I’ll do me best.’
‘Frank’s gettin’ a nice load of red gum from down by the river. Burns beautiful it does . . . one lump’ll go all night . . . still coals in the stove in the mornin’ . . . Frank said . . . ’
‘Alright, Claudie, don’t make me feel awful . . . I’ll do it for you . . . an’ the baby . . . what must it be like for the poor dark things?’
‘Well it shouldn’t make any difference should it . . . all things being fair and equal.’
*
‘Eh, now, look at that ol’ Claudie, ol’ Scissors Mother, look at ‘er, hide like a big buck kangaroo she got. What can we do ‘elp ‘er out, lookin’ after our liddle Woorer Woorer like that. Yeah. I s’pose ya right, all them little tarlum chuckin’ ‘emselves on that Alfie’s hooks, all them wiidji lettin’ ‘emselves be caught in his nets, yeah that true all right, all them fishes swimmin’ straight to ol’ Scissors Mother.
‘An’ that boy too. He listen, eh! He hear them fish. He smell ‘em. He real good hunter that one. Wish that Parwung knew enough ta stop ‘im starin’ away at yern like that, every night starin’ out the window, starin’, starin’ at ol’ yern, somebody should tell ‘im not nice ta stare like that, not polite ta look dreckly in the face of ol’ yern . . . but he’ll find out that one, our little hawk boy, plenny time for ‘im to learn, look at ‘im, look at ‘is ‘ead blowin’ up with all ‘is thinkin’, ‘e’ll be a big man that one, ‘e don’t know shame that one, see ‘e’s still got ol’ Billy Wurrun’s fishin’ rope under ‘is pilla, sleepin’ with our man’s hair right under ‘is ‘ead, ‘e’ll be dreamin’ plenny dreams orright, ol’ man’s hair curlin’ roun’ an’ roun’ spinnin’ dreams aroun’ an’ aroun’ talkin’ to ‘im, tellin’ ‘im all things ‘bout ‘is people. Oh that boy, such a small thing to hafta carry all his people on ‘is back, but that’s the way it is, not enough blackfellas to carry the load, liddle kids ‘ave to put their skinny liddle shoulders to the wheel, bloody strong our people, make us mob proud ya know, seein’ ‘em like that, not givin’ in, proud as ya like . . . still a hard road but. A hard road an’ only them fellas got their feet on it, fella like me, ol’ Weerat Kuyuut, ol’ spirit fella, all we can do is tell story’ sit roun’ fire an’ tell story ‘bout time before, tell story like now, how our mob have to live like beaten army, lost souls, no one to tell ‘em what’s what . . . ‘ceptin’ us, that all we good for now, tellin’ story.’
*
‘Redmond, Redmond, Redmond, an excruciating day sitting in judgement, but here I offer you the solace of the Barrabool, Idyll Vale, your worship, burgundy, the fruit of the river bank soils and the vintner’s toil. And how many heads did we have to lop off today, your worship?’
‘You’re a ploughman at heart, Angliss. My title, for the likes of yourself, can be properly rendered as your honour, reserve your worship for the Archbishop if you will . . . this wine, Angliss, absolutely superb, might we make something of this country yet?’
‘Where never plough has bit the soil
Never an Englishman’s righteous toil
Has called the sun to – ’
‘Yes, yes, all of that, just so long as the London Missionary Society and those damned Pantheists don’t nobble some dotty English dame and have her put the thumbscrews on an English Lord or two, you know, hide the port until a question is raised in the House about colonial treatment of blacks. Anti-Slavery Society, Liberal Bible Fellowship, you name it . . . no doubt you haven’t read the copy of The Times I brought for you last weekend, too busy with quail and thoroughbreds I suspect.’
‘Anti-slavery! Surely they’re not accusing – ’
‘My word they are, Angliss. I suggest you tear yourself away from thoughts of thistles and terra rossa and read what London is threatening to do for our dusky brothers. Your vineyard might become the next black’s camp. The rolling western plains of Australia Felix returned to emus, niggers and possums. Don’t laugh, Angliss, I’m telling you that unless we can convince Gillies to fob off London we can wave goodbye to freehold. It’s serious, Angliss. Imagine it. We’ll have to take this as the most troublesome period of settlement. If you can displace carnal thoughts for a few moments and actually read the papers I give you you’ll notice that it was proposed to allow “the true titleholders free access to their tribal lands”. Don’t put on the face of an injured lamb, my good fellow, read it, it’s there in black and white.’
‘They couldn’t possibly . . . ’
‘They could and probably. But we’re a long way from London and I suggest we urge the Governor to intervene. A case of this notable burgundy, as, shall we say, a demonstration of the country’s ability to match the produce of Europe . . . a trade exhibit you might suggest, might urge Sir Henry to prevail upon Gillies to stiffen his bending reed against the cold winds of London.’
‘Perhaps you, Sir Redmond, knight of the realm, might perhaps take issue with some black criminals and the threat of insurrection, to punish some of our noble savages.’
‘I might.’
‘Perhaps we could dredge up old history . . . perhaps a re-examination of the murder of Manifold’s shepherds . . . ’
‘Possibly.’
‘Perhaps, first of all, we need to put a stop to this investigation of the untimely deaths of the sheep killers on the Werribee.’
‘A difficult case, as I am not directly involved. But more importantly we need Fyans to prove that Moorabool is actually dead. If he’s not his recollection of events on the Werribee might be rather prejudicial.’
‘He’ll be dead, my good Redmond. The blacks like to bury their own. Some relative would have snuck in and got him. You don’t need to worry about that.’
‘On the contrary, Angliss, it’s exactly the sort of thing I do worry about.’
‘Perhaps we need to suggest the defilement of a white woman, an incidence of cannibalism, perhaps they weren’t eating sheep at all, perhaps – ’
‘Perhaps, perhaps, Angliss, a devious little horse breeder’s mind you have, but more than a match for the reed in the wind we have as Premier, I think.’
‘Perhaps . . . ’
‘Not another perhaps.’
‘Perhaps also, your loveliest honour, Captain Hindsmith could be called urgently to London or at least Sydney, perhaps for a promotion or demotion . . . and perhaps Mr Palmer.’
‘Palmer?’
‘They’re questioning a quadroon or something similar, a Mr Palmer, a reedy man who does odd jobs and so forth, perhaps a little job his way . . . or even the removal of a job . . . or a child, might be just the thing. He’s married to a white woman, you know.’
‘Unbelievable.’
‘Well, he’d pass for white if it weren’t for the nose. . . and the insolent spirit . . . ’
‘Yes, yes, well I’ll see what I can do, but speaking of spirit where’s that golden tokay of yours.’
‘Here, your honour, just for you. What London doesn’t realise is that our blacks are dying out. They’re like prehistoric animals, they can’t compete, they’re not of the same clay, Redmond. Look at their faces. It’s quite clear they’re an earlier form of humanity that must give way before the superior development and our . . . little encouragements are but a blessing if London only knew.’
‘Smoothing the pillow with an iron fist.’
‘The quicker, the better. You know the Dawsons of Camperdown, they’ve got their supporters in the church, not many that’s obvious, but if they were to mount a campaign in the newspapers and so forth that’s where Gillies could be more trouble than enough, and I’m not convinced that Sir Henry Lock is as reliable as you suggest, Redmond, a peerage for instance might urge him to make some grand humanitarian gesture . . . ’
