The Dog with Seven Names Page 2

  Every day Elsie’s mother wrote letters to her missing son. She didn’t notice that Elsie sat outside combing my fur instead of reading her lessons or practising the piano. After the letter from the Army, the Missus kept talking about ‘moving south to Geraldton’. She covered furniture with sheets and packed away books. Elsie put a pin on Geraldton and we huddled together as her mother made radio calls to the Red Cross.

  ‘Someone must know where he is,’ she told the Boss.

  He didn’t answer.

  The next War word was ‘Darwin’. The radio voice said it had been bombed. Elsie showed me Darwin on the Australia map and added a pin. Darwin was closer than Singapore. On the radio, a different voice used strange words to speak about ‘the extent of the raid’ and ‘the number of machines employed on such a little place as Darwin’.

  Elsie held me close and I felt her tremble as the voice described bombs crashing and the earth shaking.

  Youngest brother said, ‘They reckon there was practically no warning. The Japs started bombing the moment they arrived.’

  The frightened voices of the humans made me shiver. Next morning the Boss pulled on the boots I’d seen him hide in the shed. They were like the ones I’d peed on, but this time I knew better. Elsie’s mother shouted at the Boss.

  ‘You’re too old to fight.’

  The Boss slammed the screen door and stomped onto the verandah. Before she died, my old mother had taught me to trust my instincts. They told me that something very bad was about to happen.

  And it did.

  The worst thing possible.

  Elsie’s family took Elsie away and I had to stay behind.

  They were going to Port Hedland, Elsie told me. And then ‘evacuating’ south to Geraldton. I didn’t like that word, evacuating.

  Elsie pleaded with the Boss to let me go with them, but he shook his head.

  ‘Your grandmother has no room for a dog.’

  ‘But Princess is tiny …’

  I tucked my paws under my belly and curled into my tiniest shape.

  ‘With your Aunt Beryl and her twins, there’ll be barely enough room for you!’

  ‘Princess could stay outside.’

  ‘Ration coupons won’t cover dog food. And the roads down south will be busy. Finding Princess a place on another station will be safer.’

  ‘How can the north-west be safer for Princess, if it’s not safe for us?’

  The Boss ignored Elsie’s question.

  ‘While we’re away, she might learn to herd cattle,’ he said, ‘and become useful like her mother. Then after the war we can get her back.’

  ‘Princess is a house dog,’ Elsie yelled. ‘She’s never worked cattle. She’ll hate being away from me.’

  Elsie cried and begged, but the Boss held his jaw tight. I knew tears would make no difference. Elsie ran to our secret hideout behind the prickly bougainvillea bush and I followed.

  ‘It’s not fair!’ Elsie sobbed.

  I stayed as still as I could while Elsie’s tears fell onto my fur. The Boss soon found us. He tied a rope onto my collar and dragged me towards his stockmen. The Boss gave one of the men some money to take me. The man was Dave. He was kind, but he wasn’t Elsie.

  Elsie clung to me. We howled, but it made no difference.

  Dave’s boots scuffed the dirt. He promised Elsie that he’d take good care of me and that he’d find me a nice home. I watched Elsie wipe her tears, trying to be brave.

  ‘Be strong,’ she whispered into my drooping ears. ‘Remember Rivette.’

  Then Elsie’s family climbed into their big old truck and drove away. Dust whirled up from the track, stinging my eyes, and as I stared after them, I vowed that somehow I would find my Elsie again.

  2

  Dave’s Dog

  February 1942

  The Japanese were coming. Everyone was talking about them. The air smelt heavy with fear and excitement. Dave and his mate, Stan, couldn’t wait to fight. They wanted to ‘give the Japs what for’. They said it would serve them right for what they’d done to Darwin.

  Dave had promised Elsie’s father that before signing up, he and Stan would take a big mob of cattle to Port Hedland. Their plan was to load the stock onto a ship called Koolama and then find a recruiting office to join the Army. The Koolama ship would take the cattle south. I didn’t know what would happen to me and I tried not to fret. Maybe the Boss would change his mind. Maybe he and Elsie would be waiting for me in Port Hedland. I imagined myself leaping into Elsie’s arms and snuggling my nose against her soft neck.

  The first days of droving were hard. Elsie was right, I was a pet, not a station dog, but Dave was kind. When my paws bled, he made a sling for me beside his saddlebag. Swinging against Smokey, Dave’s horse, made me giddy, but after a few days I got used to it. Once my pads toughened up, I ran behind the cattle with Stan’s dog, Diesel. Despite my small size, herding came naturally to me. I enjoyed nipping cattle hooves. Dave ruffled the fur on my head and told me I was a quick learner.

  ‘Good work, Dog,’ he said. ‘In time, you’ll be as clever as yer mum was!’

  Sleeping under the wide sky and gazing at stars was exciting. My golden eyes saw shadows and I felt the warm breath of the land. But I would have given it up in a heartbeat for Elsie. Until now, we’d been together every day of my life. I missed everything about her. I missed the way Elsie’s eyes sparkled when she smiled at me and I missed her sweet soapy smell. I especially missed the treats she hid in her pockets.

  Life was different out droving, but I wasn’t lonely. Dave, Diesel, Stan and I settled into what Dave called the daily humdrum. We left camp at first light, followed dry rivers and passed abandoned homesteads, pushing the cattle towards the setting sun. Cattle dogs can be mean, but Diesel wasn’t. When the day’s work was done, and the men began cooking their dinner, we followed rabbit trails then flopped in the dust side by side.

  One midday, we stopped for a break at an old bloodwood tree. Dave gathered twigs to make a fire to boil the billy, while Stan wheeled his horse, Nellie, around to gather straggling poddy calves. I circled the tree’s wide trunk, sniffing the ground. Something felt wrong.

  Dave scooped a hollow in the dirt and I watched him cover it with twigs and leaves. Then he set a fire and poured two cups of our precious water into the billy. When he noticed me panting Dave poured a capful into my bowl. I lapped gratefully.

  The sun was high. I crouched beside the bloodwood trunk and spread my paws. I’d already learnt that shade was a rare treat for a drover’s dog. Sometimes I could rest in the shadow of a cow, but that was risky.

  The ground was hot, even in the shade, and my paws were sore. I licked them, then wriggled, making a small willy-willy until Dave barked, ‘Sit still, Dog.’

  I stopped squirming but couldn’t settle. Something wasn’t right. I cocked my ears, listening to the rustle of cattle and the tired snorting of Dave’s horse. There were no strange sounds, but I still sensed danger.

  Dave put a match to the leaves. He coaxed a wisp of flame and as the flame crackled, he hummed a marching tune.

  I growled.

  ‘What’s wrong, girl?’

  A loud crack answered.

  There was no time for Dave to jump. Cockatoos screeched as a thick branch fell, pinning him to the ground. Dave’s gelding, Smokey, bolted. My first instinct was to run with the horse, back to the comfort of the station, but Elsie was gone. I was Dave’s dog now. He was my human and he was trapped.

  I ran around the tree barking.

  Stan heard the commotion. He turned his horse and galloped back.

  ‘Dave,’ he called. ‘What happened?’

  There was no answer.

  Then he saw the branch.

  My legs trembled as I sensed the drover’s fear. Be brave, I thought. Remember Rivette.

  Diesel crouched beside me and I licked his chin. Diesel was a wise old dog. He’d know what to do. But Diesel did nothing.

  I listened to blood race thr
ough Dave’s veins. His heart was pumping fast. I crept closer, nosing the branch. Blood covered Dave’s arm. It smelt like the lucky pennies he liked to jingle in his pocket.

  Stan knelt beside Dave. ‘Jeez, mate, are you all right?’

  Dave’s eyes were shut.

  Stan wrapped his arms around the branch and tried to move it.

  Dave stirred. ‘Stan,’ he gasped.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll soon sort this out.’

  Stan’s face was pale and his hands shook as he grabbed the branch to try again.

  ‘It’s too heavy.’ Dave groaned. ‘Ride for help.’

  ‘I’m not leaving you here alone.’

  ‘Dog will stay.’

  I felt Stan hesitate. He watched me licking Dave’s arm.

  ‘Ride back to that homestead we passed,’ Dave said.

  ‘It was abandoned …’

  ‘There’ll be a radio. Call the flying doctor.’

  ‘But …’ I sensed Stan’s confusion.

  ‘It’s me only chance. Go. Maybe the doc can fly in before dark.’

  Stan flung off his hat and scratched his thin hair.

  ‘Hurry,’ Dave murmured.

  Stan moved a waterbag and blanket next to Dave. Then he stamped out the camp fire and stared at me.

  ‘Stay,’ he said. ‘Look after him, Dog.’

  I watched Stan run to his horse and swing into the saddle. Diesel glanced at me, barked once, then loped after his master.

  Clouds of dust followed Nellie’s galloping hooves. I smelt the mob’s panic but ignored their silly mooing. With no stockwhips or dogs to bully them, the cattle soon settled. As they regrouped, small animal noises began again. I heard lizards scuttle through the underbrush and my paws itched to catch one, but Stan had told me to stay. I curled against Dave and did as I was told. We hadn’t been together long, but Dave was my person. When he suffered, I suffered too.

  I pressed my small body against Dave’s skin. He felt clammy. I’d once seen a station bitch lick her pups into life, so I licked Dave’s salty skin the same way. His arm became warmer. I stepped around Dave’s swollen legs and began licking the other arm. Streaks of blood had pooled near his hand. I snapped at the flies trying to settle there. Dave groaned.

  ‘Dog,’ he called.

  I shuffled closer to his face.

  ‘Sit down, Dog.’

  I curled against Dave’s shoulder and felt him relax. Pressing my fur against his skin seemed to steady his breathing. I stretched my legs, trying to warm more of Dave’s body, but it was no use, I wasn’t big enough. I rested my nose on his wet arm instead.

  As we lay there, I thought of Elsie and wondered what she’d want me to do. Be still, a voice told me, so I did my best not to wriggle.

  The sun moved across the sky. Dave’s skin became colder. Parrots swooped in the bloodwood tree, pecking at the fresh sap and insects. The birds squawked and squabbled, shrieking news of the fallen branch. My whiskers twitched. I wanted to run around the tree barking again. Chasing parrots was one of my favourite things, but Dave needed me to be still. I glared at the birds instead. They kept squawking.

  When the parrots finally flew away, I lapped water from the billy and went to squat behind the tree. Then I returned to Dave. The tree’s shadow had become a long line pointing after Stan. Where was he? Should I try to find him?

  ‘Stay,’ Stan had told me and so I stayed.

  As the red dirt cooled, I heard a faraway rumbling. I looked into the sky and saw a silvery glint pass overhead. It was an aeroplane. I’d seen one at Elsie’s station once when Youngest brother fell off the water tank. Was this the same plane?

  Ants gathered on a leaf near Dave’s blood. As they moved back and forth, I remembered hide-and-seek games with Elsie and the feel of her hand on my ears.

  Dave shivered, then his breath became raspy. I was frightened and let out a small howl. I couldn’t help it. Creatures stirred. I smelt a wallaby mother with her joey. My stomach growled as Dave’s breathing changed again. It would soon be night. I whimpered and licked his face.

  At last I heard Nellie’s hooves. Diesel ran to meet me. He sniffed Dave then circled the branch and peed on the outer leaves. I nosed the air. Stan and Diesel weren’t alone. There was another man. Sharp smells clung to the stranger’s clothes. He walked towards Dave and I barked, warning him to stay back.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Stan said. ‘Doc’s here to help.’

  The long-ago aeroplane person had also been called Doc. This Doc smelt like that other one, but he was younger. Other old Doc fixed Youngest brother’s leg, but had to wait for a storm to pass before he could fly out. While he was waiting, Other Doc checked everyone’s ears and eyes. He even checked me.

  The Missus didn’t want me to have pups, so Other Doc did something to my belly. I don’t know what because I was asleep. When I woke some fur was gone and I had a line of tight stitches. Elsie’s kisses and spoiling soon helped me forget the pain.

  I growled a soft warning as this Doc took strange things from his bag and began prodding Dave. Stan held me in his arms while Doc lifted Dave’s eyelids. I watched Doc press two fingers onto Dave’s neck and listen to his gravelly breathing. Then he filled a syringe. It was smaller than the ones the Boss used on cattle, but it still seemed dangerous. I bristled.

  Doc pushed the needle into Dave’s arm and said, ‘That’ll help with the pain.’

  Dave’s eyelids flickered. He looked up. ‘You made it.’

  Stan smiled. ‘The doc’s here now. You’ll soon be right.’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’

  ‘No worries, cobber. Once the herd is sorted, you can buy me a drink in Hedland.’

  I squirmed in Stan’s arms but he held me tight. I imagined Elsie’s voice telling me to settle, and tried to be calm.

  The injection worked quickly. Dave’s breathing became easier and Stan put me down. When the men weren’t watching I had a good sniff of Doc’s bag. It smelt like a box in Elsie’s kitchen. That box held bottles which the Missus called medicine. I took another sniff and decided Doc’s bag was safe. I curled against Dave’s feet, watching Doc in the fading light. His hands looked gentle.

  Stan lit the lantern then cut branches from the far side of the tree. He wrapped the two longest sticks together with a blanket to make a bed, then Stan dragged the branch-bed to Doc.

  ‘Ready when you are, Doc.’

  The other man waited. I sensed that Doc was uncomfortable, like I was when the Boss was angry and I’d done something wrong. Doc took a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was steady, but the things he said were strange.

  ‘Dave’s chest and stomach are badly crushed.’

  ‘Let’s get him out then.’

  I heard Doc swallow.

  ‘Crush injuries are complicated,’ he said. ‘After so many hours with damaged muscles, there’s been limited blood flow to Dave’s tissues. Some cells have started to die. Once we move that branch, toxins will rush into Dave’s bloodstream –’

  ‘And?’ Stan looked confused.

  Doc said, ‘Without intravenous fluids Dave will develop acute renal failure.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘His kidneys won’t work.’

  I watched Stan frown at the doctor. I didn’t know what any of this meant but my instincts told me it was bad.

  ‘You don’t know Dave. He’s strong as a mallee bull.’

  ‘Dave’s injuries are severe. After so many hours of crush, he’ll be battling to survive renal failure. If we were in hospital, he’d have a chance. I could begin a drip and we could give him blood, but even then …’

  ‘What if we ease the branch slowly?’

  ‘The blood will surge as soon as the weight is removed.’

  ‘There must be something you can do.’

  ‘I can make him comfortable.’

  ‘But we’re going to fight the Japanese. We’ve been planning it for weeks. As soon as we get this mob in, we’re off to do our bit.’

  �
��I’m sorry.’

  Stan kicked the dirt. I jumped up and growled, standing guard over Dave. Stan strode into the darkness. Diesel followed, his tail drooping. I heard Stan throwing rocks. When he came back I cowered.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?’

  Doc shook his head.

  Stan sank to his knees, holding the lantern next to his mate. Dave stirred. His eyes opened and I nuzzled his cheek. Dave stared up at Stan and I felt him shudder. Dave knew.

  ‘It’s not good, is it?’

  Stan took a deep breath. ‘You always had a hopeless poker face!’ Dave said.

  Stan sighed. ‘Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.’

  I licked Dave’s ear.

  ‘Just tell me the truth,’ Dave moaned.

  ‘If we shift the tree, we’ll do more damage to ya innards.’

  ‘And if you don’t lift it?’

  Stan glanced away as Dave murmured, ‘Not a good choice, hey?’

  ‘I can give you pain relief,’ Doc said, showing him the syringe. ‘You won’t feel anything.’

  ‘Right, well, that’s something.’

  Stan wiped his eyes. ‘Jeez, Dave, I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d ridden faster …’

  ‘Nothing you could have done.’ Dave looked around. ‘What about the cattle?’

  ‘They’ll be right. I spoke to Everett on the radio. He’ll try to find someone to help.’

  ‘Sorry to bail on you,’ Dave said. ‘If Smokey comes back, you keep him. You always liked that horse.’

  The men were quiet for a moment, then Dave whispered, ‘Darn shame we can’t sign up together. You’ll have to give it to the enemy from both of us!’

  ‘You can count on that.’

  ‘Is there anyone you want me to contact?’ Doc asked.

  ‘Nah.’ Dave closed his eyes. ‘I’ve always been a loner.’ Then he looked at me. ‘What about the dog?’

  ‘I’ll take care of her,’ Stan offered.

  ‘You’ll be fighting Japs.’

  Dave turned his head to the other man. ‘Take me dog, Doc. I promised the station girl I’d find her a home. The terrier’s small but she’s a bright little dog and brave as anything.’