Taj and the Great Camel Trek Page 6

  Tommy came to help without anyone telling him to. That surprised me. He never said a word, just grinned at me, but he didn’t make me annoyed. Together we re-arranged the loads to be as light as possible for the sick camels.

  That afternoon as we travelled, Mustara was so much stronger that I risked riding him. He almost kicked up his legs and danced as he would when Emmeline and I rode him into the desert near Beltana. That used to make Emmeline laugh.

  We passed a sandalwood tree where Mr Giles had put a horse’s pack saddle on his earlier expedition. The saddle was of no use but we kept the horse hair it was stuffed with to make cushions so the baggage camels wouldn’t get sores.

  Mustara and I and the sick bulls were at the end of the string and we arrived an hour after the others. They were camped five miles from Mount Finke and most of the unloading was already done. Jess Young called Alec a camellia because he helped so much with the camels but Alec just laughed. At times like that he reminded me of Emmeline.

  Perhaps it was from relief that we were away from the poisonous plants that we sang songs and told stories around the campfire. Padar had told me when he was on Mr Warburton’s expedition the camel drivers had their own fire but Mr Giles said it was best to eat and sleep together since there were only eight of us. ‘It will save on wood too,’ he’d said.

  Jess Young played a song called ‘Cockles and Mussels’. It didn’t take Mr Tietkens long to sing: ‘In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.’

  Jess Young and Mr Giles joined in together: ‘Crying cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!’

  My heart had almost stopped beating. I had such a recollection of my mother that it was all I could do to stay seated at the fire. I glanced at Padar; he had stopped puffing on his pipe and was staring into the fire. Suddenly, he looked up and saw me staring at him. His eyes were too bright, his mouth sagged. Why did the song affect us so? Did my mother sing it? I couldn’t remember exactly. There was so much I couldn’t remember and I should have. It was as though the memories dammed up when my mother left. The song was about Molly Malone, a fisherman’s daughter. She died of a fever and no one could save her. Could I dare ask Padar about it?

  There was only time next morning to see to the camels. As I rode, I despaired of knowing how to speak to Padar about my mother but even these thoughts were chased away by rain. We were almost to Wynbring and Mr Giles threw up his hat, caught it again, and began to shout. Water fell out of the sky so fast that the camels could drink it at their feet. They broke their nose ropes and lay down so they could reach it easier. Padar and I watched them carefully, for loaded camels have a rope across their chests and can’t easily put their heads to the ground without hurting themselves. I saw a bull at Beltana cut himself from doing so.

  When the rain ceased we made it to Mr Giles’ old campsite. Wynbring was a granite rock at least fifty feet high. Tommy was animated. ‘This country my mother – mother closest fella to us.’ I nodded for Padar also said his mother was his closest relative. It was interesting, for Tommy seemed to be saying that the land was something he belonged to rather than the other way round.

  I helped the men put up the canvas tents and tarpaulins over the equipment. We weren’t quite finished when another heavy shower came down, but no one grumbled. We were happy for the rain, as the rock hole was overflowing and water lay everywhere. If this was what it would always be like in the desert the trek to Perth would be easy.

  Jess Young had been looking around him and he addressed Mr Giles, ‘How on earth did you escape alive from this abominable hellhole in the hot weather?’

  No one answered him but I saw the red look on Mr Giles’ face. Perhaps he noticed the undercurrent of Jess Young’s tone for I heard it too. Was he showing disrespect?

  Alec murmured to me, ‘Mr Giles survived because he is a good bushman.’

  I agreed, for Mr Giles even knew we were near Wynbring before we arrived. ‘How did he find this place?’ I asked Alec.

  ‘He reads maps.’ Alec can read them too, so I decided that after I could read words I would ask Alec to show me how to read maps. They would be helpful in the desert if I had to take a camel string to a new place, perhaps to Perth.

  Peter cooked our dinner in a tent in case it rained again. Tommy and I had to stand and watch with water in billies in case the tent caught fire. It took Peter a long time to coax the flames to life from the damp wood. Then he cooked the damper in the hot sand amongst the ashes. ‘It stays hotter this way,’ he explained. He had ideas about the wood to use also. ‘This black oak’s better than mulga for it burns to a white ash. Then the damper don’t burn.’ I watched and learnt from Peter just as I did from Alec and Padar.

  After our dinner of damper and stewed salted beef that I wasn’t too fond of, Mr Giles told us we could stay there for a few days. ‘My friends will have a few days’ rest because they have had such poor feeding places the last few nights.’

  Padar and I exchanged a look that only we knew the meaning of. Friends? Mr Giles didn’t mean us or the other men. He was talking about the camels.

  It was Jumah – our holy day again – the twenty-fifth day of June. Jess Young shot an emu in the morning and Padar raced over in time to slit its throat so that he and I could eat it too. Jess Young was used to Padar doing that, though he still teased us. Tommy and I were set to plucking again but it was not an easy job. Emu feathers are large, and those ones stuck to the bird like desert weed in a rock. Tommy was strong but we both grunted as we pulled.

  There wasn’t time for much conversation but I asked him about Fowler’s Bay. ‘Will you stay with your family when we get there?’ I told myself I was just making conversation, that his answer had no relation to my feelings.

  Tommy rolled his eyes at me. ‘Not me,’ he said. When I roll my eyes like that behind Padar’s back it means I’m annoyed with him, but Tommy looked frightened. I couldn’t ask why, for Tommy suddenly turned the emu over and we were busy for the next half an hour.

  When we finished, Peter sharpened his knife and sliced the bird into steaks. The hard work was worth it. At the campfire Padar said the meat tasted lazeeze; that’s delicious in Persian.

  As we were eating, Mr Giles managed to upset Tommy. I thought Tommy would never get upset. Mr Giles was wiping his fingers as he spoke. ‘Tommy, I want you to find the Wynbring natives in the morning.’

  Tommy sat still a moment.

  ‘They should be able to tell us if any more water holes exist in this area,’ Mr Giles added.

  Tommy stood up and started to talk quickly in Wirangu. His hands spoke too. It made us all stop chewing just to watch.

  Mr Giles took a mug of tea from Peter. ‘Whatever’s the matter, Tommy?’

  ‘Why you no ask me, boss. I know many big watta – this my country. No need ask other blackfellas.’

  Tommy showed all his fingers and said the names of eight water places on the way to a place called Youldeh. Mr Giles smiled to hear of all those places and Tommy looked happier. I glanced at Padar and saw his frown. I wondered if there would be more water at them than the last place Tommy said he had found ‘big’ water.

  Mr Giles had been on the lookout for Tommy’s people but none of them had showed up. ‘Tommy’s old Uncle Jimmy said that the girls in his family were very pretty and that I should marry one called Mary and Peter should marry Jinny.

  ‘Why haven’t they come?’ Mr Giles asked Tommy, but he just rolled his eyes.

  ‘There is a lovely young girl called Polly who we met along this track last time. Do you remember, William?’ Mr Giles turned to Mr Tietsken.

  ‘What a pity,’ Jess Young said, ‘I’d like to see a pretty native.’ Perhaps he wanted to get married too. It made me think. I had never asked Padar how he met my mother. Perhaps that’s how I could start.

  ‘Could you tell a story?’ I asked Pada
r.

  Padar had nearly finished his mug of tea, but he didn’t rush. He was thinking of what to say, for now all the men were waiting, even Mr Giles who usually took his books out after eating. Padar cleared his throat. He didn’t talk about my mother and I was glad after all. No, Padar told us how he lost his finger.

  ‘It was the year 1872 and Mr Warburton, he came to Beltana for camels,’ Padar began. ‘Haleem and I and seventeen of Mr Elders’ camels went with him to Alice Springs. Then in April of the next year we set out for the west.

  ‘It was a harsh land across the Sandy Desert. Camels, some we lost, some died and some we ate. Haleem and I, we tried to find water. We all had the scurvy and I was so sick I could not use my arms or legs. Allah be praised I became stronger but the camels, they got weaker from lack of food and water. Soon there were only two camels left.

  ‘Snakes and scorpions crawled everywhere in our camp when we stopped. In the old country I could charm snakes and so I tried to charm the snakes from the men’s blankets. But alas I could not charm scorpions and one night when I was asleep one stung me on the finger. The pain, it was very bad and my arm would not move. But we kept walking towards the coast.

  ‘When we reached Roebourne we had travelled 4,000 miles across the desert. Mr Warburton could see from one eye only, and my finger, it had to be cut off to save my life.’

  There was silence when Padar stopped talking. I saw the faint lines of worry on Jess Young’s face. Then Alec spoke. ‘What a good thing we have Mr Giles to lead us, Saleh. He will be able to find water in the desert.’

  No one else said a word, not even Mr Giles. Everyone stayed silent with their thoughts while they slurped their tea or coffee.

  We didn’t get the string started until after midday and this time Tommy led us on Salmah, then Padar on Roshni. I watched Salmah lurch grumpily to her feet. She was going to calve soon. I wasn’t worried. On trips near Beltana the cows travelled well after a birth and the calf was often tied on the mother’s back for a few days until it could walk with the string.

  Mr Giles rode Reechy aside from the string and was reciting poetry about Wynbring. It didn’t sing like his other poems.

  We’ve left this oasis, this water giving rock, in its silence and solitude, leaving it once again to primeval man...

  Jess Young didn’t keep his strange smile just for Padar and me. I noticed it when he was watching Mr Giles reciting. Then Mr Giles patted Reechy’s neck and called her ‘Screechy’. He was very fond of her.

  We had marched seven or eight miles through the high scrub with Tommy singing songs to himself, when we found an opening in the bushes where Tommy showed us some bare flat rocks. Between them was a small hole of water.

  ‘Is this it?’ Jess Young said. ‘How’re we supposed to survive on this?’ Mr Tietkens was too polite to say so but I could tell by his frown he thought the same.

  ‘Taloreh,’ Tommy said. He sounded proud. So this was the first watering place he had mentioned. Taloreh was full of mud and rocks. Padar poked a stick in and found mud for several feet below the surface. He couldn’t tell how deep it was but Mr Giles said there may be 300 gallons, not enough for twenty-two thirsty camels.

  We camped in the scrub as it was getting late. Even with Tommy using English words it was difficult to understand how long it would take to travel to the next place. Mr Giles’ main concern, as well as Padar’s, was that the camels have good feed so they could withstand the long journey ahead. Camels will only eat what they like and will starve rather than eat what they don’t.

  The next day we found the second waterhole was only a few miles on and had better food for the camels to eat. What a pity we couldn’t understand Tommy the night before. By the look on Mr Giles’ face he thought it was more than a pity.

  ‘This fella Edoldeh,’ Tommy said.

  ‘We will not stop here,’ Mr Giles said shortly. ‘Let’s press on to reach the next oasis.’

  ‘Oasis is a bloody exaggeration,’ mumbled Jess Young.

  Tommy said the next one was Cudyeh. ‘Close up,’ he said.

  ‘Close up’ turned out to be another eighteen miles, but it was a good place to camp. There were rocks in a hollow with holes filled with water. Since it had rained recently, the water had poured down into them and the area was under two feet of water. We took long sticks and waded in but there was a lot of mud under the surface. It was hard to tell if the natural wells were deep or not. At least the camels had a drink.

  I couldn’t believe how much I was learning about water and wells. There wouldn’t be any reason to worry about water now, surely, if Tommy could find these. Whatever strange feelings I had towards Tommy, I couldn’t begrudge him the fact he could find water.

  It was the twenty-ninth of June; we had passed quite a few of Tommy’s waterholes which may have been fine for a few people to drink from but weren’t suitable for camels. I hoped we’d find more water. ‘Big one coming,’ Tommy said. ‘Him name Bring.’ Tommy kept saying that Bring was a ‘big’ one but when we finally saw it Jess Young blasphemed.

  Bring was just a dry salt lake. To the south of the lake Tommy pointed out a small rock hole with a few dozen gallons of water in it. No one was happy but since Jess Young began vomiting and groaning, we camped there. Peter made a dreadful medicine for Jess Young from flour and water. I’m sure it stuck all his insides together. Mr Giles asked Jess Young if he enjoyed the gluepot, but Jess Young didn’t appreciate the joke.

  Rain fell in the morning, so we stayed at Bring. Mr Tietkens showed Alec and me how to make dams with clay and we had baths using buckets. Alec was happy. ‘This is almost as good as having a bath at home with hot water.’ Baths made me think of Emmeline and how she hated them. I wondered what she was doing and I hoped I could write well enough to send her a letter soon.

  Peter’s medicine worked on Jess Young. When he felt better we left Bring. That night Mr Giles said, ‘We will push on to reach Youldeh.’ He looked at the officers. ‘We will set up a depot there.’ Padar and I were anxious to reach there too before Salmah calved.

  Before we slept I asked Padar for another story. I knew I needed to be braver to ask what I needed to know but I also wanted to do it when Padar and I were alone. The only time that happened was when we collected the camels in the mornings, and then Padar’s mind was on the work to be done. ‘One from your country, Padar.’ Alec joined in and begged him as well. Even Jess Young listened while he sketched in his book. Padar smiled at Alec and me. He seemed to enjoy his storyteller status.

  ‘There was one and there was none. Except for God there was no one. Once there was a powerful king who had seven daughters.’

  I grinned. Many of the stories Padar told had seven sons or seven daughters. ‘One day,’ Padar said, ‘the king he asked them all how much they loved him. “Sweeter than sugar,” the eldest said.

  ‘The king was pleased and kept asking. “As sweet as honey, as sweet as molasses, as sweet as brown sugar, sherbet, the sweetest sweet.” Finally the king asked his youngest daughter. “Beti, how sweet am I to you?”

  ‘“Respected father, you are sweeter to me than salt.”

  ‘The king, he was furious and he ordered her to leave the palace. She wandered into the forest and met an old woman. The girl wept. “I am a defenceless girl with no one to help me except God. Can I be your servant?”

  ‘“You may,” said the woman. “My son chops wood and sells it to buy corn, but you can share it with us.”

  ‘It so happened that the princess and young woodcutter found treasure and he became a jeweller. The old woman arranged their marriage and they built a palace in the forest.

  ‘One day the king was hunting in the forest and came upon the new palace. He sent word that he would be a guest there that night.

  ‘The princess ordered the servants to prepare a banquet with special instructions that all the dishes should contain n
o salt except some simple dishes of spinach and maize bread.

  ‘The king arrived and dinner was served. Pilau, chicken, sweet saffron rice – all dishes fit for a king – were placed before him. The king pushed aside the dishes after tasting them and only ate those with salt.

  ‘Later the jeweller asked politely if the king enjoyed the meal in their humble home.

  ‘“The food was good but had one serious fault,” the king said. “There was no salt in it.”

  ‘At that moment the princess entered the room and knelt at the king’s feet. “Respected father, you are sweeter to me than salt is to food.”

  ‘The king was amazed to see his daughter. She said, “I gave orders for salt not to be added because you do not like salt.”

  ‘The king, he wept. “I beg you to forgive me. It is true your love is sweeter than salt.” The king then chose his new son-in-law to inherit the kingdom, and they all lived happily ever after.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ve heard a story like that before,’ Jess Young said.

  Padar was watching me. What would I say if he asked me how much I loved him? He was all I had. Would I say, more than the moon? What about my mother? If only I could say something to her – I’d think of the sweetest thing in the world. But what was the use?

  One thing I could do: I decided never to complain about the salt in the dried beef. It might have been worse without it.

  The day before we reached Youldeh something very bad happened. We had been on the march for two months almost to the day and it was the first time I couldn’t find the camels. Salmah was becoming more difficult to find as she was about to calve, but this time all of them disappeared. Padar and I had walked two miles without a sight of one of them. ‘What’s happened to them?’ I said to Padar. I couldn’t keep the panic from my voice. I knew we’d die in the desert without the camels.

  ‘Perhaps they found some poplar trees in the night,’ he said. Now I knew what he meant about it being harder to round them up as they wandered further searching for tasty bushes.