Pat Ritter. Books

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'The Drover' - Page 59:

After eating a hearty meal they sat around the camp fire to yarn. It started to rain, heavier and heavier the drops hit the tarpaulin swiftly running off the edges forming a river on the ground.
‘What about we go to bed, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.’ Harry said. Everybody retired to their swags in the back of the truck.
What was it about sleeping in a warm swag in the back of a truck under a tarpaulin listening to the pitter patter of rain? Harry thought. Is it a feeling of safety being out of the rain, or is it a feeling of contentment and warmth? Before he could count sheep his eyes closed and his dreams surfaced of Rose. If there was a heaven it was close by.
By morning the rain persisted. Lucky Henry parked the truck on high ground because where the sheep were housed was a flood. Water gushed through their legs across the black soil. Their wool was short having recently been shorn and it was the job of Harry, Ted and Rose to move the sheep to higher ground.
‘Open the brake Ted and let em out, there’ll be a few weak ones but we’ll need to carry them to higher ground’. The rain lashed their faces and wind blew hard. Many of the sheep escaped from their night camp leaving twenty to slug their way through the rain and black soil. Ten sheep bogged to their hocks.
Harry was on foot and beside him Rose slushed her way through the black soil and the torrid rain. They worked together grabbing hold of each wether, one by one, man handled it to force it onto higher ground to join its mates.
‘One gone and nine left.’ Harry shouted through the wind and rain toward Rose when the first one struck higher ground.
Whilst Harry manhandled the head of the wether, Rose held onto the rear end and pushed each sheep with her shoulder, one by one crawled their way to higher ground

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until the last one was about to join the mob, ‘we should have moved this one first.’ Harry said with a smile on his face.
Rose grinned and looked at Harry. She was beautiful, her hair flatten by the rain tucked under the akubra hat, her smile delicious and warm, ‘why did you say about moving the last one first, it doesn’t make sense.’ She said.
‘If we’d moved the last one, first, then we wouldn’t have needed to move it again – would we.’
‘You’re stupid.’
The mob moved to higher ground and walked along the stock route. Harry mounted his horse and whistled the dogs to keep the mob heading south. The rain stopped, the sun broke through the clouds. They were one day from finishing the drive.
Before he delivered the sheep he needed to count them to ensure the correct number was there for delivery. Harry’s way of counting sheep was unique. He rode to the front of the mob with Rose.
‘Ted and Henry - Rose and I will count the sheep along the next fence. You two push them up with the dogs.’ He commanded.
The stock route was positioned parallel to the main highway from Cunnamulla to Bourke. A stock fence divided the highway on the outskirts of Bourke. This was an opportune place to count the sheep. He instructed Rose to stand opposite him.
He took a box of matches from his pocket and emptied the contents.
‘Put these matches in one hand and when I call out a number; place one of the matches into your pocket.’ She took the matches in her left hand.
‘Send them up.’ Harry called to the others. The sheep moved toward Harry and Rose who stood opposite one another to form a funnel to let the sheep move between them.
When a number of sheep rushed through the gap, Harry called out, ‘one’ and continued to count to himself, each time

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he called the number ‘one’ Rose placed a match into her top shirt pocket.
After the last of the sheep were through the gate Harry said to Rose, ‘how many matches have you got?’ She counted them from her pocket and said, ‘fifty.’
‘They’re all there then, you did a great job for a girl.’ He commented.
‘I’m not a girl, I’m a woman, or hadn’t you noticed.’ She replied replacing the matches in the box and returned the box to him. He noticed she was a woman, thundered through his mind.
‘Henry, we’ll make camp this side of the bridge and cross in the morning.’ Harry said.
‘Alright, Boss, I’ll see you there this afternoon. He left to prepare the camp.
Ted in the meantime drove the sheep along the stock route; Harry soon joined him while Rose worked the wing with a dog.
‘Ted, tell me more about the war.’ Harry requested.
‘We’d been in Changi Prison for a couple of years trying to keep alive. Food was running low to feed all of the prisoners, some died from malaria and other diseases such as cholera. Somehow I survived. Then we were put into railway wagons and taken by train to Burma to build the rail line. The Japanese wanted to move their troops through to Rangoon.’
‘I’ve never heard of these places, Ted. How in hell did you survive – you’re tough, I’ll give you that much.’ Harry told him.
‘On our wits and tough work, I was one of 12,000 men and most of them didn’t come home. We went by train part of the way then marched the remainder through rain and high humidity. In the end we built their bloody railway track and lost many men doing it. At times it was hard going but you had to keep telling yourself you were alive – that’s what kept most of us going.’ Ted shared with Harry.

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Ted continued his story of survival with Harry. After building the Burma railway line the troops returned to Changi and on 15th August 1945 Japan surrendered. The war was over.
Ted described his return to Australia by sea; skin hung from his bony frame, his eyes sunken in their sockets, arms and legs stripped of muscle, his mind echoed the nightmare of his past four years of capture.
Harry felt pleased to have heard Ted’s story and if anyone needed the highest praise – it was Ted who stood ten foot tall and bullet proof. Ted as well, felt relieved, he’d unleashed the anguish and horror encased in his mind for more than half a decade. He felt relieved to have shared his story with another human being and pleased this human being was Harry. Both men had a high respect for one another.
After the sheep were housed in the brake for the night, the three retired to the camp and sat around the fire.
Harry said,’ this is our last night together. I have enjoyed your company and your help and if we can do it again – I hope we can.’
‘I’ve certainly learnt a lot about droving – thanks Harry, for teaching me to count.’ Rose butted in, a grin on her pretty face.
‘It’s been a pleasure to serve you Harry and thanks for listening to an old codger.’ Ted stated.
‘Don’t worry about me, Boss – I’ll be on the next trip with ya.’ Henry finished.

Chapter 8

Christmas of 1950 was a week away. Harry completed the droving of sheep to Bourke and returned to celebrate Christmas with his sister and her family in Cunnamulla. It was to be a joyous occasion. His brother-in-law Les would be home together with his nephews Young Les and Charley.

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Harry couldn’t erase Rose from his memory. He tried to put her memory aside for awhile, however; her beauty returned to him during sleep; he daydreamed of her through other times. What was he to do about courting her? His answer, ‘he would ask Ted.’
In the early evening after dinner Harry walked along the street where Rose lived in the hope to see her outside. Many evenings he walked past her home on the opposite side of the street and looked to see if lights shone from the front bedrooms. Should he wander over and ask for her, he pondered. He couldn’t build up the courage to ask her to the pictures but still wanted to see her.
It was two days before Christmas, Harry did his usual walk on the opposite side of the street when he heard her voice, ‘why don’t you come over and speak with me,’ she called out.
Harry looked through the evening glaze and saw a silhouette of a woman standing close to the front fence.
‘I didn’t want to annoy you,’ he called out and walked across the road to where she was standing. Her black raven hair fell from her neck past her shoulders and down her back. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse – she looked beautiful.
Fragrance of womanhood filtered through his nostrils forcing his mind to imagine how wonderful it would be to become her husband and to serve her the remainder of their lives.
‘How have you been since we got back?’ He mumbled.
‘I’ve missed you.’ She said in a seductive voice.
‘Ah…I’ve missed you too.’ Harry felt pain around his heart and in his mind a nervous ache, he didn’t know what to say, the cat had caught his tongue.
‘How’s your parents, did Ted get over the trip?’ He asked wanting to change the subject.
‘Why don’t you come inside and ask for yourself, they’re sitting in the lounge room listening to the wireless.’ Rose

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asked in an inviting voice, ‘I’ll make some supper, I’m sure you’re hungry.’
Harry opened the small gate and followed Rose to the front steps. He followed her steps across the veranda and into the light; his eyes refocused from the darkness. When he entered the lounge room Rose said,’ look who I found wandering outside.’
Ted looked up from his seat, ‘good-evening Harry, great to see you again, looking forward to Christmas.’
‘Yes, how have you been Ted and hello to you Mrs Henderson? How have you both been?’ Harry didn’t know exactly what to say, he was here to see Rose and it was nice to visit Ted and Mrs Henderson.
‘I’ll make us some supper Pa.’ Rose said and left to go to the kitchen.
‘I’ll help.’ Mrs Henderson said to join Rose.
‘Ah…Ted I want to ask you a question, if that’s okay.’ Harry said.
‘Go right ahead my boy, you can ask me anything.’ Ted replied, he remembered how he shared his war story with him and treated him as a person he trusted.
‘Would you mind if I asked Rose to go to the pictures with me?’ Harry muttered.
‘It’s not up to me, it’s up to her; she’s over twenty-one and can make up her own mind. There’s been a slight hitch since we’ve been away,’ Ted continued, ‘mother invited Roger out here for Christmas; she playing cupid, is all I can guess.’
‘When’s he arriving?’
‘Tomorrow, on the Westlander, that’ll put the cat among the pigeons.’ Ted answered with a slight grin on his face.
‘Alright you two come and get it.’ Rose called out.
The two men joined Rose and her mother in the kitchen.
Rose sat Harry beside her, ‘this is not like in the bush – we have normal tea here. Mother, we drank tea from our

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quart pots, without milk and sugar – it was different.’ Rose admitted.
Harry took a gulp of his tea, ‘It wasn’t that bad – was it?’ He asked.
‘I enjoyed myself.’ Ted answered swallowing a piece of cake.
‘What are you doing for Christmas Dinner Harry?’ Mrs Henderson asked.
‘Having it at my sister’s home – all of the family will be there.’
‘I was hoping you may want to have it here with us.’ She replied.
Harry’s mind went into raptures, what’s this old girl getting up to, Roger will be here and Rose; and I don’t know if it would be a good idea. He thought.
‘Ted told me Roger was visiting and arriving tomorrow on the train – wouldn’t it be crowded?’ He said.
‘What’s this about Roger coming tomorrow - mother.’ Rose exploded and looked directly at her mother with a stare which almost knocked her mother from the chair she was seated.
‘While you were away droving I wrote to Roger and invited him to have Christmas with us – he accepted and will be arriving on the Westlander tomorrow.’ Mrs Henderson answered.
‘Well, he’s not staying here – you had no right mother. Roger and I are no longer together. It was rude of you not to ask me first.’ She exploded pushing her chair away and stormed from the room.
‘Now look what you’ve done mother – upset Rose; and this Roger business, I wish you’d leave it alone, I don’t like the fellow.’ Ted expressed.
‘I do.’ Mrs Henderson continued. ‘I’ll go and see if she’s alright.’
Harry and Ted finished their supper in peace without exchanging words.