True History of the Kelly Gang (15 page)

Well heres a sight said Harry.

I thought he were referring to the gamblers but in fact he were staring at a familiar splayfooted grey mare hitched to a post.

O thats a pretty horse said he although she werent at all. Do you recognise the mare sonny?

No.

It belongs to himself said Harry he were smiling once again.

I said I didnt think so but it were a lie. Foul fortune had brung us to our quarry’s door.

Said Harry Go look see what type of iron its wearing.

I picked up the right rear hoof but already knew them shoes would be most distinctive having a small protrusion on the wall of the U.

I gave Harry the thumbs up but my stomach were in turmoil. The Chinks was staring as I lowered the hoof and nothing seemed real to me no more. Harry whispered I should find a dark place so I might prime my fowling piece so I went behind the hut and when I come out Harry were giving money to the Chinese the 1st time I seen witnesses bribed before a crime were done.

Then standing at the door of the rough hut with my fowling piece at my hip I were ready to break the 6th Commandment.

No he is behind you.

I turned and saw an even more lamentable habitation than the hut a sad and dirty tent and across its filthy fly were a yellow rope from which were suspended a sign reading PRIVATE and beside which were a lantern of torn red paper hanging from a bamboo pole.

Harry winked unloosing the yellow cord so the sign dropped to the ground. When he pushed me forward I had no clue I were walking into a brothel the outside of the tent were streaked with grey and mildew but the skin won’t predict the inside of a fruit.

I swear the 1st thing that struck me were the woman had no rump on her yet there were so many 1st shocks all rushing in at once. She were naked as were Bill Frost he knelt before the tart like a man at church and when he heard me enter he rose to his feet and what could I do but raise the gun.

Get out I told the tart go on missy.

The tart’s almond eyes was v. angry but she pulled a black silk gown around her shame and done what she were ordered. Frost would not cower from me. Come on he said and held out his sunburned arms his parts was there for all to see. Come on said he give me the adjectival gun before you do yourself an injury. He stretched his long arm towards the barrel and feeling the wall of the tent behind me I knew I could retreat no farther. I cocked the gun.

Shoot me if that is what you effing want. Do you want to spend your whole stupid life in gaol?

I didnt know if I could kill him or not yet I saw I must and I shouted he were a cheat and a liar and I were aiming the gun when a voice come from the dark.

Don’t make a murderer out of the boy.

Is that Harry Power?

You know it is.

Then call your adjectival dog off Harry.

I overheard what you said about him spending his life in gaol so here I am. I’m what they call the substitute.

And with that Harry Power pushed into the tent he had his heavy American repeater in his hand. This fearsome weapon he now pointed directly at Bill Frost’s temple and I were too apprehensive of the murder to feel v. much relieved. Holding the pistol in his left hand Harry took a hold of the fellow’s private parts with his right.

This is a very nice bit of sausage Bill.

O Jesus Harry said Bill Frost he now were frightened and who could blame him Harry were a terrifying man without his beard you could see the cruelty in his cheekbones the anger in his mouth.

But this pizzle has been very troublesome to you Bill.

No Harry. Barley. Fair’s fair.

You know it is a big vein delivering all the blood to this pizzle but you would know that Bill for you’re a highly knowledgeable sort of chap. Don’t they call you Yesbut? Yesbut Frost? Yes but I know better aint that it?

Harry then cocked the Colt.

When I shoot it there will be an awful lot of bleeding Bill.

No Jesus Harry.

Ned would you kindly pick up Bill’s boots.

But Bill had come to visit the tart in his dancing shoes I picked them up they was so light and dainty the soles as thin as paper.

Please Harry I’m sorry whatever I done.

Say sorry to the young’un not to me. Ned please remove a shoelace thats the boy.

What are you doing?

Now Bill it is very important you use a tourniquet.

I did not know this word neither did Bill Frost I could see it alarmed him worse than anything before. A what? What are you saying?

You don’t know what a tourniquet is? Thats one for the books Yesbut but yes you’ll bleed to death without one and that will be your own adjectival fault so pay attention Bill you tie that lace round your pizzle. I could do it for you but I need one hand to hold the gun.

Bill Frost’s face were normally a ruddy red but as he tied the dainty shoelace to his member it were grey as a corpse.

You’ve been a bad boy Billy said Harry Power.

Bill Frost’s chest were shaking crying hard he gasped O Christ Harry please will you please just let me off.

Yes but can you promise you won’t never slander young Ned here.

I will yes he were crying loudly now the tears running down into his beard.

Will what?

Will promise.

Yes but will you also promise to provide £1 per week for the upkeep of Mrs Kelly’s baby?

I will yes I would of anyway.

Then you is let off cried Harry knocking him on the head with the butt of his pistol.

Harry would later claim to regret he had hit Bill Frost but it werent the hitting which then made it all go wrong. The problem were Bill Frost he were proud as a billy goat and once the terror were removed all he could think were how the story would be told around the district. He could not bear the shame. Now his eyes was wet with tears his lips all swollen as he kowtowed but withdrawing from the tent I seen his large and violent shadow as he sought the means for his revenge. I called to Harry but Bill were already rushing us his howdah pistol in his hand.

You mongrel Power cried he.

I fired my musket from the hip I thought I missed but when he staggered against the lantern I observed his hand pressed to his gut the black blood flowing like jam between his fingers.

It were February I would not be 16 until December.

With that single shot I was once again bound as Harry Power’s apprentice he woke me at dawn in the stables where we was hidden by his friends. Already he had been out and around the streets.

Bill Frost has carked it he said he has bled himself to death.

Now it is many years later I feel great pity for the boy who so readily believed this barefaced lie I stand above him and gaze down like the dead look down from Heaven.

The traps is out for you sonny Jim.

I asked if there were a warrant sworn against me and for answer he opened up his ivory handled clasp knife then dug his hand into his coat pocket to produce a length of butcher’s sausage still hot and shining from the pan. He passed it to me with the knife his eyes was alive with emotion I mistook for sympathy.

Here eat some breakfast poor tyke.

Reminded of Bill Frost’s pizzle I shook my head and Harry took the sausage back.

I don’t want you to worry said he but there is a mob of troopers recently left for Eleven Mile Creek they think they will arrest you there.

I never showed my terror only asked again were there a warrant sworn.

My hand and word to you said the old rogue I’ll not rest until I see you safe.

I said I would be hung no question.

You’ll be safe said he if you fetch me a bucket of ashes quick and lively.

He must of been delighted to see how obedient I were become. When I carried him the pail he commenced blackening his great long jaw and neck instructing me to follow his example. He rubbed the filthy ashes over his big wide nose around his pouchy eyes he said this will make you a good citizen my little feral fellow.

When we both had muck all across our skin he ordered me to give the horses a good feed of oats then to bring some water from the well. I were a rabbit in his snare but did not know it yet.

All night the hot north wind were blowing through the town filling my nightmares with murder and smoke and iron wheels rolling along the road below but now the wind had dropped the streets was deadly quiet. As Harry and me started up Ford Street on horseback a single pedestrian come limping towards us carrying a pole on which hung a burnt bit of hessian he had been using to beat the flames. He looked up at us his face were black with smoke and soot his eyes well bloodshot.

Morning said Harry.

Morning mate.

The fire were all in the west so we frauds headed south ambling our horses down the centre of Church Street. 2 females rode a cart filled with milkpails in the direction of the fires.

God bless you boys they cried.

God bless us murderers the old ham raised his hat he couldnt be happier. Soon we passed that solid stone edifice wherein Bill Frost supposedly lay dead I couldnt help but cross myself I were so ashamed and sorry and I slumped there in the saddle with my eyes cast down upon the mane.

Soon we was on the Buckland road and thence drifted onto the kangaroo pads that ran like quicksilver throughout the dry bush and along these we passed silent as blood itself. Thus like chiggers we twisted our way deep into the country till finally we come down the ridge to that old hut at Bullock Creek eyeless in a field of bracken.

No one shall ever catch ye here said Harry.

I am painted as such a criminal but it seems to me I were so young and gullible that Harry Power could play with me almost any way he wished. I believed him when he said I were safe in the Wombat Ranges but when he announced we would be better in the Warbies I never lost my trust not even when he took me to more populated areas in the hills behind Glenrowan or into hotel bars where there was police in uniform.

He knew I were badly shaken by the murder but he never showed me no sympathy only the opposite he were blithe as a sparrow continually mocking the dead man calling him Yesbut or Bill Frot which means to rub your private parts or so he claimed. By the campfire he would perform a very vulgar imitation of Bill’s Waltz for which he thrust his big square backside out into the dark.

Many is the moonlit night he left me alone with nothing but a single shot muzzleloader with only 2 percussion caps and not until much later did I hear from my Maggie she were always pleased to see a bright moon for it were on those same nights old Harry come riding down from the Warby Ranges to court my mother. The 1st night he boasted that he had shot Bill Frost for treating her so bad. Soon he done Bill’s Waltz it made her laugh and I must admit the old deceiver raised Ellen Kelly from her bed before he took her back to it.

He were a dirty liar it were his great hobby and profession he done it continuously like another man might pick his nose or carve faces on a bit of mallee root just to pass the time. He easily made my mother believe I were gone travelling in New South Wales but he told me the troopers was camped out at Eleven Mile Creek waiting to arrest me. What a web he wove. He said he were observing the cops and would report when they was gone away. Of course I believed him for he were all that stood between me and the noose and I willingly held the horses for his constant robberies every night I bagged a kangaroo or a possum or some bush pigeons I never served him the same tucker 2 nights running. He were as lazy as the dog that rests its head against the wall to bark but I didnt grudge him so at different times I fed him Murray cod or yabbies or a snake. I also chopped the wood tended the horses and shoed them regular. If the night were warm I would dig 2 shallow trenches to hold our sleeping bodies then across this little grave I staked out mosquito nets. This service were not all caused by my good nature for I knew that when this activity ceased my mind would hurry back to that night of murder it would picture the Chinese woman with no rump Bill’s black blood spilling through his fingers.

Every now and then Harry announced that things was hotting up and we should clear out to the Wombat so again I trusted him even though I come to dread them times at Bullock Creek for once there he could abandon me alone for 2 wk. at a time I suppose he returned to court my mother but I were left in solitude and my thoughts was very troubling. With hoe and scythe I cleared the bracken from around the blind walled hut so when the rains come the grass were much encouraged. I panned for gold and made a cockatoo fence also caught and broke a brumby mare but none of this ceaseless activity could still my mind I were v. guilty for having killed the father of my mother’s child.

Yet the truth is neither a boy nor a horse and not even Harry Power can suppress it forever not with cunning or abuse not even with the great weight of his mighty arse. I got my 1st glimpse of the situation one morning as we travelled through McBean’s Kilfeera Station on the way back to the Warby Ranges. McBean were not only a squatter but a powerful Magistrate so on his land I had learned to follow the creeks and gullies those low lying areas the soldiers call the dead ground. It were a 2 day journey and in the morning of the 2nd day we was on the northern edge of McBean’s station having feasted on one of his jumbucks the night before. We come cantering up out of a deep and narrow valley and nearly tangled with a rider passing the other way. We was so close I could smell molasses on his horse’s breath and as I wheeled around my stirrup clashed with his. His horse reared while mine stumbled but neither of us fell. The rider had such a spit and polish shine to him I were immediately sure he were police in mufti then as we both swung away I saw Harry raking his spurs fiercely along his horse’s flank and suddenly the strange rider were coming after us. He were tweed suited and heavy gutted he might have been a Superintendent he were waving his hat at us. Hey Bill he hollered hold up Bill.

Harry might of continued safe enough but he did not. Bill he cried who the eff are you calling Bill?

The stranger kept his temper answering pleasantly I’m sorry mate. His full cheeked head were broad but he had a sharp little nose his quick black eyes now searched Harry’s face very carefully.