True History of the Kelly Gang (31 page)

No road Joe I won’t.

Its a blanket he said firmly its clean enough.

They was quiet a moment then he struck a lucifer and the light of a small spirit lamp illuminated the far end of the cave.

I wanted to get home to you Bessie. It just werent so easy as it sounds the traps was hunting us like dogs.

I kept my eyes closed but did not need to look to know that this were Bessie Sherritt i.e. Aaron’s sister.

Joe it werent you they was hunting.

You don’t know adjectival nothing Bessie said he and I smelled the sweet odour of opium he must of got from Aaron.

Joe that aint correct it were Ned Kelly shot Fitzpatrick. Tell me if I lie.

Well he sighed its too late now any road.

Isn’t it true but my own da’s a policeman?

That were in Ireland long ago.

Its still the English language he read me out the warrant it says DAN KELLY AND NED KELLY it says OTHER MEN UNKNOWN. No one is calling for Joe Byrne they would name you if they wanted. You don’t have to run nowhere you can just tell the truth.

Them b––––rs will know me soon enough.

They’ll know Ned Kelly she said desperately its him who done the murder. Its him and Dan they listed in the GAZETTE.

Sssh said Joe.

No I will not ssh said she. Wake up wake up you shan’t be hanged. Aaron won’t allow it he can protect you in this thing.

He must of done something for she gave a sharp little cry of pain and then Joe snuffed out the lamp. You tell him not to effing meddle this aint for him.

In the dawn Bessie Sherritt were gone and Joe were as calm & neat & rested as if nothing had occurred. It were him who made the tea who buttered a bandage for Dan’s shoulder who assisted Steve and me to carry our provisions back to the horses. I saw the girl Bessie standing at the edge of the clearing she didnt own no coat so her dark hair were soaked her dress all sodden on her skinny little shoulders she were staring passionately at Joe.

Friend of yours I asked.

Joe shook his head. Come to America with me old man.

She’s your donah don’t deny it.

No she aint.

You didnt shoot no one Joe I’ll write a note and swear it.

You can swear any adjectival thing you like it won’t make no difference. He yanked the girth and waited for the horse to let out its breath before tightening it another notch. You can write until the effing cows come home but we killed 3 coppers and they won’t be happy till they pay us back. Come to America with me.

I looked at the girl standing shivering her arms crossed in front of her little bosom. She’s your donah Joe.

I’d rather kiss the effing Banshee.

Looking at the object of his derision I seen a poor girl shivering in the rain but Joe’s pale eyes was seeing a darker dream than mine.

If I stay here don’t you see I’m dead?

I don’t know if it were fear or opium but something had turned his sunburnt face as hard and slippery as a china bowl. It were not my place to argue with him over a woman but I were a man with 4 sisters & a mother & as we left I rode right by poor Bessie I give her a friendly nod. In response her eyes drew back into her head and her lips pursed and a mighty wad of spit come at me.

It were a very small deposit on the capital that would soon be offered to the Mansfield Murderer.

To escape the police there were no choice but to ford the Murray River into New South Wales although the word river gives a poor picture of the sight that met our eyes in the district of Barnawartha. The Murray is a maze of swamps and billabongs but in flood you cannot know what can be crossed till you try & try we did for 3 weary days attempting one place then the next driving the police horses up into swamps and lagoons until the water grew too swift and deep.

God did not see us the waters would not open and no matter how hard we pushed the Murray would not part nor the rain relent. Every time we returned to the banks the brown tide had risen higher than before marooning unmilked cows on islands their udders swollen their painful bellows echoing across the dull insistent waters.

Finally we come to a miserable bit of drowned land mostly wattles & reeds all inundated and beyond this some big old red gums and here the current become so treacherous you could see it from the way the fallen trees raced down the river their crowns rolling over and over lifting water like a paddle wheel.

Dan sat with his hand on his wounded shoulder watching thoughtfully. Steve Hart were close beside him hunched over on his horse with the brim of his hat low on his eyes.

Very well said I then we will head back to Aaron’s. I looked to Joe but he held out his hand as if to say goodbye.

It can’t be crossed Joe.

He looked out across the dreary tumbling waters. I should of pissed off long ago said he without another word he spurred his horse out into the reeds the water were high on the horse’s belly it floundered and then rose then plunged down once more.

Catch me he cried his voice were far away but when the horse rose a 2nd time it were clear he had located a spine of submerged land which he now were following like a miner does a vein of gold. Suddenly the river were very shallow only to the fetlocks of his mare. This was sufficient for Dan he gathered in his mare getting ready for the plunge.

Look hissed Steve suddenly.

I seen a large milled log sweep in front of the rider he were on the edge of a deep & dangerous channel.

Not that. Look behind.

I turned to see a dreadful apparition a large bunch of mounted men emerging from the bush they was perhaps 1/2 a mile to the south. The details was blurred by rain but it were clear they was the police an adjectival army of them come to avenge their dead.

Joe had not seen them yet he’d spurred his mare into the channel she were swimming bravely on. The police trotted out across the grassy plain that separated the bush from the flood. As Joe rose from the torrent to join a stranded heifer on a muddy island he were about 100 yd. out in the stream thus easily within range of a Martini Henry.

Steve were leading Dan and their mounts deeper into the flooded wattle scrub behind a bit of hillock from where he hissed at me.

I could not drag myself away from Joe he were in mortal danger but now witnessing his undertakers approach he brought his horse up on its hind legs so it pranced. He walked it backwards that were normal in a circus but very unusual in the middle of the Murray River.

Come on Ned.

I were beholding an act of courage it made the flesh stand on my arms. A hateful roar went up from the police I heard the drum of hooves it were like the Picnic Cup. A rifle shot whistled overhead I hurried down into the flooded wattles where the 2 boys was already bickering.

Get your adjectival head down said Steve.

I don’t want to get my powder wet.

Don’t worry about the effing powder.

O yes I see you’re keeping your gun dry.

Look look you silly b––––r Steve cried plunging his pistol under the muddy water. Does that satisfy you now?

We was interrupted by a blast from out on the river it were the prancing horseman firing his Spencer at the sodden sky.

Halt the traps shouted you’re under arrest.

Shoot the b–––––d called another.

The murderers was almost next to us the air above our heads were rent with explosions we ducked then felt the water push its icy fingers up our ears. When I surfaced Joe were off again he were swimming to America his horse in the middle of the flood with a great stretch of brown water ahead and no island in sight.

Of course not one of them traps had the courage of a so called HARDENED CRIMINAL they poked around the bush a little but never so much as got their boots wet. They left us by 3 o’clock that afternoon we was dripping wet and certain our mate must be washed upon a bank the mud running from his nose like some drowned calf. Dan’s lips was blue I changed his dressing then we all dried our firearms in melancholy silence.

We sat on our horses watching the flood slowly rise until it were dark even afterwards we continued our watch although Steve were sure Joe must be drowned and Dan would guarantee he got away. We remained without a fire to warm us and not until almost the next day was we rewarded by a murmuring above the suck and wash of flood it were a prayer a litany this human voice talking in the night. They would leave their adjectival mate it said they would ride away and leave a fellow. Well eff them for a mob of effing this and effing that.

We found a single rider poking his way very slowly through the dark eff this and eff that it were belligerent Joe Byrne. To a man we was most pleased to have him back which don’t mean we didnt barrack him a little asking him how were America and was the girls as pretty as we heard.

We was dead men now he answered we might as well accept the fact.

John King 3 yr. & Ellen King 5 yr. & Gracie Kelly 13 yr. all come shrieking in the hut to hide beneath the bed. All this I know from Mary Hearn she thought it were a game until she saw their pursuers was 2 big moustached officers their heavy pistols drawn.

Out cried the traps. Bail up!

Their munitions was .45 Colts but the policemen didnt feel that were sufficient for their safety and the larger of the pair now snatched Mary’s baby from his cart and held him as a human shield.

Little George begun to scream and wave his fists. His mother wrapped her blanket about her and come to rescue him but the officer jabbed her in the belly with his Colt.

Drop your guns he cried.

Sir she cried there aint no guns in here.

Don’t lie to me shouted Supt Brooke Smith we know Ned Kelly’s here. He ripped off her blanket revealing what she would not wish to show no man.

Sir cried she the baby is falling. It were true the babe were slipping from the trap’s grasp but fear can make a big man deaf and Inspector Brooke Smith were in Holy terror that I were hiding in the hut he thought his end were near.

Come out Kelly you’ll be shooting children if you fire.

O give my baby back Mary cried she darted forward but were knocked away she had no more power than a plover squealing around a raided nest.

Go on cried Smith get out the brat is in my care. So saying he got a knee up under George’s bottom a firmer grip around his chest.

Mary thought she were about to have her baby confiscated by the government. O do please return him to me Sir.

Brooke Smith swatted at your mother in reply it were to Kate he spoke. See all the men I have out there today? I will have as many more tomorrow and when I find your brothers I will blow them to pieces as small as the paper in our guns.

Sir I beg you he’s just a baby I am taking care of him very nicely as you see. I’ll show you my saving book if you would like.

Are you Kate Kelly?

Don’t tell him nothing said Kate.

My name is Mary Hearn Sir I have broke no law and neither has my son.

The name of Hearn meant nothing to the Inspector but the other officer were Detective Michael Ward a much more diligent and dangerous creature altogether. This is Kelly’s child he announced.

Good grief exclaimed Brooke Smith. Look how the little demon curls his lip.

Mary pushed forward but it were too late the crooked Ward had taken the baby in his own custody.

He has the gripe Sir thats all it is.

If you’re a clever girlie smiled Detective Ward you’ll tell me where its daddy’s hiding.

And suddenly with no warning he tossed the baby into the air.

Christ said Brooke Smith.

Ned aint the father Sir don’t hurt him.

Liar said Ward throwing the baby again it were far too rough George’s head snapped back his mouth flew open.

O I curse your seed cried Mary.

Ward’s grin failed him.

I curse your unborn children said Mary her blood were icy cold her eyes as black as coal. May your children come to the straw with feet like toads and eyes like snakes.

Silence!

You will be like a blackfellow with no home to turn to. Your wife will lie with soldiers. You will wander the roads with sores & weeping warts.

Detective Ward were white and waxy as an altar candle.

Halt cried his partner or I’ll fire.

Mary were just a girl of 17 normally v. meek & polite in manner her skin still unspoiled by the colonial sun but now her mouth were thin and straight. Then may you get red and scaly skin upon your private parts.

I order you cried Superintendent Brooke Smith & discharged his pistol through the roof.

That were the moment George’s eyes changed colour Kate will attest to that. One moment they was blue the next a yellow brown the colour of a ginger cat. In the heat of the furnace metals change their nature in olden days they could make gold from lead. Wait to see what more there is to hear my daughter for in the end we poor uneducated people will all be made noble in the fire.

We determined to return home to Greta even if the ground were crawling with policemen we could safely get tucker and dry clothes but when we got back to the Ovens River at Everton it were running 8 ft. higher than when 1st we crossed.

I’ll lead youse across said Steve this conversation took place at night in the flooded main street there were a dog behind the butcher’s shop throwing himself against his chain the horses was spooky requiring all our attention so we circled and chivvied while discussing what we was to do.

Ned said Steve we’ll go across at Wangaratta.

Joe had been very sour and glum since his failed attempt to swim the Murray he spoke sarcastically to him. Did it slip your mind theres a railway line to cross or did you fancy you could jump the effing packhorses across a 4 rail fence?

Shutup.

Well said Joe you can forget the railway gate its locked.

We don’t need no gates said Dan theres a railway bridge at Wangaratta.

The traps will have it guarded Danny.

Jesus Christ don’t call me effing Danny.

Ned said Steve I can get us under the railway bridge Ned.

Don’t listen to him Ned.

And what were you proposing Joe?

Shutup said Joe I’d go upriver to Bright we’d cross there easy as you effing well know.