Pat Ritter. Books

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'The Shearer' - Page 41:

‘No trouble. I’ll put something extra on for lunch,’ Rose said and left her husband with Joe and Bluey.
‘Well, that’s it boys, the boss has spoken. You’ll be our guests until morning and I won’t hear of you camping in the quarters. You’ll camp here on the veranda. The bathroom is inside if you want to wash before lunch, then find your way into the kitchen. See you both in there. We can’t let the lady of the house down, can we?’ He left Joe and Bluey to ponder their next move.
After Joe and Bluey washed their hands and faces from a wash basin they joined Peter and his wife in the kitchen. Warmth filled the room from the stove blazing in the corner. ‘Take a seat, any where. Lunch will be ready in a moment,’ Rose said.
Bluey and Joe sat opposite Peter; Rose placed plates of food before the two shearers. ‘This looks great, Mrs Greig, thank you.’ Joe stammered.
‘Can’t have you starving, can we.’ All started to eat.
‘Where have you been shearing?’ Peter asked, with a mouth half filled with food.
‘‘Kahmoo Station.’ We left this morning after shearing for a week.’ Joe told him.
‘Nat Young’s place. How’s the cranky ole bugger?’ Peter asked.
‘Joe almost got the sack when he cut a belly of one of the sheep,’ Bluey answered, enjoying his meal. ‘This is great, Mrs Greig – thank you.’
‘I’m pleased you like it. Peter enjoys his midday meal.’
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'The Shearer' - Page 42:

The noise of the rain almost deafened them. ‘Looks like the rain is constant. He has a nice place over there, and you two must have left early this morning to reach here at this time.’
‘Yeah, we left before daylight and moved along a bit until we saw the dark clouds. Lucky we reached here before it really came down. We appreciate your kindness, thank you.’
‘Our pleasure’, Peter said. ‘Did Hannah arrive there while you were shearing? Hannah is Nat’s daughter.’ Peter asked, between mouth full of food.
‘Sure did,’ Bluey said, ‘Joe here wants to marry her.’ Bluey grinned.
‘I don’t know if Hannah is old enough to marry, is she?’ asked Rose looking directly at the two shearers.
‘I want to marry her, and I will one day if I’ve got anything to do with it. I’ve given her my ring to show my love I have for her,’ Joe admitted to the others confidentially.
‘You think Nat would let his daughter marry a shearer?’ Peter asked, ‘I’ve known him a long time and I doubt it.’ He placed his knife and fork beside his plate.
‘Don’t ya think I’d be good enough to marry Hannah?’ Joe blasted, his anger reaching fever pitch.
‘I’m not saying you’re not good enough, but if you know Nat Young like I do he’d want his daughter to marry a cocky’s son.’ Peter admitted.
‘Well, I’m going to marry her if it’s the last thing I do.’
‘Then it might be the last thing you do,’ Peter admitted with a smile.
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'The Shearer' - Page 43:

Chapter 6

Throughout the night constant rain poured, causing dampness along the veranda where Joe and Bluey slept soundly in their swags. With a slight morning light creeping on the veranda Joe leaped from his swag, rolled it tightly into a bedroll secured by two thick leather straps. He kicked Bluey in his swag, ‘Come on Bluey, we’d better get going.’
‘You’re up and about early,’ Peter’s voice echoed along the veranda. ‘We’ve had a good drop of rain. You fellars heading off?’
‘Thanks for your kindness and allowing us to camp on the veranda but if we don’t get moving we’ll never reach Tilbooroo Station before tomorrow night.’ Joe explained.
‘Rose made something for the road.’ Peter handed Joe two parcels.
‘We appreciate this and would you thank her for her hospitality? Come on Bluey we need to hit the trail mate.’
‘Ah, one thing before you go fellars, watch Moonjaree Creek. When we’ve had this amount of rain it comes up quick but goes down just as quickly when the rain stops. Walk along the bank for about twenty miles heading toward Eulo and you should be safe to cross anywhere there about. Be careful. We might catch up with you fellars some other time - you never know you could be shearing here one day.’ Peter shook hands with Joe and Bluey and wished them all the best for the rest of their trip.
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'The Shearer' - Page 44:

With the rain pelting down on their hats, Joe and Bluey walked through the mud followed Moonjaree Creek as Peter suggested. ‘Is it ever going to stop?’ Joe called to Bluey, who walked a couple of steps behind slushing his way through the thick black goo. Alongside Moonjaree Creek, the black soil stuck to their boots and constantly they stopped to scrap off the access mud.
‘Don’t think so, you know the ole saying about black soil, you stick to it in the dry and it’ll stick to you in the wet.’ Bluey ed, pulling the front of his hat down over his eyes to stop the rain hitting them. At times he walked blind.
‘What say we stop for awhile to see if this damn rain doesn’t slow and eat this food Rose made?’ Joe shouted above the noise so Bluey could hear. They sat together under the branches of a mulga tree huddled with their swags above their heads to shelter them from the pouring rain.
‘Hope the bloody hell it stops soon otherwise we’ll never get to Tilbooroo Station. They can’t start without us and we can’t be expected to shear wet sheep,’ Joe shouted in Bluey’s ear as he took a mouthful of mutton sandwich.
‘All I know is at this rate we’ll never get there unless this blessed rain doesn’t stop or slow down.’ Bluey grumbled. They sat in silence to finish eating their food. ‘Do you know where you’re going?’
‘Yeah, I reckon if we cross Moonjaree Creek and head toward those hills over there, a couple of miles away, we’ll hit Tilbooroo Station boundary fence.’ Joe explained. He pointed in a northerly direction. Through the rain a shadow of hills could be seen in the distance.
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'The Shearer' - Page 45:

‘Let’s give it a go.’ Bluey swung his swag across his shoulder as he stretched his body upright. Joe followed. Moonjaree Creek flowed fast.
‘How’re we going to know how deep it is?’ Bluey asked.
‘Can you swim?’ Joe questioned.
‘Not very well I can dog paddle.’ Bluey admitted.
‘Alright, I’ll go first and you follow. If it gets too deep we’ll turn back, but if I keep going then you’ve got to keep going.’ Joe shouted loud enough for Bluey to understand. Bluey nodded. ‘Come on, let’s go.’ Joe swung his swag over his shoulder and made his way to the edge of the water.
‘I’d reckon it’s about twenty yards across. The water is flowing fast so if it gets higher than your shoulders then start dog padding, okay.’
‘What’s keeping you, let’s go.’ Bluey shouted.
Joe entered the water, the force almost throwing him off balance. He walked slowly with one foot after the other, moving from the edge toward the centre of the creek. He looked behind to see Bluey struggling about two yards behind him, looking pale, his eyes wide open. Rain continued to fall heavily.
Through the force of water and depth of the crossing, it soon reached Joe’s knees. Step by step he continued until he felt the water reach his waist. ‘Is this foolish.’ It was too far to go back and he needed all his strength to force his legs to go forward.
‘How’re you going Bluey?’ Joe twisted his body to look behind to see where Bluey was. Suddenly he stopped in midstream. ‘Look out Bluey! A bloody snake is heading straight for you look out!’ He screamed at the top of his lungs. A mulga snake highly venomous which would kill a man within minutes. Joe threw his swag into the water, pulled his way toward Bluey.
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'The Shearer' - Page 46:

Closer the snake swam toward Bluey, who could now see the snake approach. Joe was ten feet away from Bluey when the snake lunged. His outstretched arms couldn’t stop the reptile from biting into the side of his neck. Bluey screamed, and a feeling of helplessness overcome Joe. His right hand outstretched, reached and grabbed the snake by the tail, pulling it hard to release the grip from Bluey’s neck.
In a rage, Joe swung the snake around his head flicking the length - similar to cracking a whip and the snake’s head left its body to land in the fast flowing water. Bluey paled, ‘I’m going to die,’ holding his swag with one hand and pressing the spot where the snake bit him with the other hand.
‘Come on mate,’ He grabbed Bluey under his arm pits and swam side-stroke to the other side of the creek. Struggling to reach the bank without losing his companion, his strength almost gone, he forced his legs to work through the torrent of water. They reached the other side and Joe pulled Bluey to the safety of the land. They lay side-by-side totally exhausted.
Bluey was dead.
Bloody hell, what do I do now? I’ve never seen a dead person before, particularly one I’ve known. Joe needed to get his act together fast. There was nothing more he could do for Bluey, only try to cover his body with gibbers so the crows wouldn’t pluck his eyes out, nor the dingoes gnaw his body.
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'The Shearer' - Page 47:

For the next couple of hours, Joe laboured hard to collect gibbers and stack them around Bluey’s body to cover it wholly from head to toe. Once he’d accomplished this task he stood, removed his hat, and bowed his head, remembering the first time he’d met Bluey. Yes, they’d competed against one another to be ‘gun’ shearer and it was the first time Bluey had been beaten at this last shed. Joe wished now he could’ve given him the title of ‘gun’ shearer, but couldn’t take it back.
He continued to pile gibbers on top of Bluey’s body until satisfied the body wouldn’t be disturbed until his return from reporting the death to the police in Eulo. When he placed the final gibber in place, the rain stopped and Joe saw a rainbow across the sky and knew Bluey’s spirit was now in its resting place. Many stories he’d heard from aboriginals when their ancestors passed on; their spirit leaves earth to settle in the sky. Bluey would now be at rest and peace.
Throwing Bluey’s swag over his shoulder, he started walking beside Moonjaree Creek toward Eulo. If his estimates were correct he should reach Eulo before dark. He’d only walked about one hundred yards and saw his swag caught in a tree on the side of the bank. After dropping Bluey’s swag on the ground he soon retrieved it sighting to be water damage only.
Reaching Eulo as the sun set in the west, Joe walked to the local police station where Constable Fitzgerald lived in a shack at the rear of the station. He knocked on the front door and heard footsteps approach. The door opened and there stood Constable Fitzgerald, ‘What do you bloody want?’ He snapped.
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