The Dog with Seven Names Read online

  Doc hesitated and my ears drooped. I could tell he didn’t want me.

  ‘Please,’ Dave pleaded, ‘I promised the girl.’

  Doc looked into Dave’s eyes. I felt a moment of understanding pass between them, and Doc nodded.

  ‘I’ll make sure she finds a good home.’

  ‘Thanks, Doc.’

  I wanted to tell Doc that I’d had a good home, if only he could find Elsie for me, but Dave didn’t say Elsie’s name and I had no words.

  Dave looked at me. ‘Thanks for staying by me, Dog.’

  I licked his face. Dave smiled for a moment, then winced as his arm shook.

  He turned to Stan. ‘Thanks for riding back.’

  Stan wiped his eyes. ‘No worries.’

  I whimpered. I’d smelt death before on the cattle station and knew Dave was dying. His feet were already cold and lifeless. I snuggled against them, trying to give him comfort. Diesel hunkered down beside me.

  After a while Dave said, ‘I’m ready.’

  Stan tied me to the bloodwood tree as Doc filled the syringe. Once Dave was sleeping, they lifted the branch. I howled as Dave’s life left his body. My keening startled a dingo and the evening air was suddenly filled with the wild dog’s call.

  Stan ripped Dave’s shirt into strips and used it to tie Dave onto the branch-bed that he’d made. Then he strapped the long branches onto the back of Nellie’s saddle, so that she could drag the bed. Once that was done, Stan relit the fire and balanced his billy over the flames. I was glad Stan hadn’t seen me lap water from it.

  I heard the water bubble. Stan tossed a handful of tea and a gum leaf into the billy. The familiar smell settled my jitters and I crept over to curl against Dave’s body. The men shared a chunk of fruitcake and I drooled, remembering how Elsie used to slip me crumbs from the Christmas table. It seemed forever ago. Stan took some dried beef from his saddlebag. He threw it to Diesel and me. I gnawed quickly before Diesel could grab my share. Be brave, I thought as I gulped the meat, remember Rivette.

  We waited by the fire until moonrise. Then Stan tipped tea leaves onto the coals and we began walking back to the abandoned homestead. I was glad to leave the bloodwood tree and its sad smell of death.

  The earth was cool under my paws. As we walked, Doc spoke about the attack on Darwin. He said there’d been two air raids involving dozens of Japanese aeroplanes. Elsie’s mother used to say ‘dozens’ when she was cooking biscuits, so I knew it was much more than four.

  ‘How many were killed?’ Stan asked.

  ‘First report was fifteen people, but Saturday’s paper listed nineteen. No one knows how many were injured. There’s also talk of a hospital ship being attacked.’

  ‘Mongrels,’ Stan growled. ‘The sooner I get to Hedland the better.’

  ‘The other flying doctors have joined the RAAF,’ Doc said, ‘but if I leave there’ll be no doctor in the north-west.’

  ‘Where’s Doc Vickers?’ asked Stan.

  ‘In Perth. He’s Commanding Officer of the Military Hospital.’

  ‘Jeez, that’ll keep him busy.’

  ‘Too right. We’re all busy now. I’m the only non-army doctor from Broome to Carnarvon.’

  ‘Fair dinkum?’

  Doc nodded. ‘When John Flynn started the Inland Mission, his rule was “one man, one job”. But that was before the war. Being pilot, engineer and doctor means I can do three jobs. That frees up others, but some days my hands itch to take the controls of a Spitfire.’

  Spitfire? My skin prickled. Elsie and I hated those spitting caterpillars. I looked at Doc’s hands, imagining them taking control of a long line of spitting itchy grubs. Why would he want to do that?

  ‘I’m sure as hell grateful you aren’t fighting overseas,’ Stan said. ‘Someone needs to stay back and look after the home front.’

  ‘I wish I could have done more for your mate.’

  ‘You gave him a peaceful death, Doc, that’s more than many blokes get in wartime.’ Stan stroked his whiskers then giddy-upped the mare. As I padded along behind, I heard him murmur, ‘One doctor from Broome to Carnarvon. Struth!’

  ‘I’m Mining Warden and Magistrate too,’ Doc muttered. ‘But that’s a whole other story.’

  My nose quivered. Something was following us. I sniffed the darkness as Dave’s horse left the shadows and trotted towards Stan.

  ‘G’day, Smokey.’

  Stan stroked the horse’s sweaty neck and spoke softly, the way Elsie used to when I was restless. After a while Smokey’s snorting eased. He tossed his mane and I heard his big heart settle.

  ‘Why don’t you ride him, Doc.’

  The tall man hesitated for a moment, then swung into Dave’s empty saddle.

  Nellie was first to smell the station’s water wells. She nickered and quickened her steps. Diesel and I left the men and ran ahead. There was no sound of dogs or humans at the homestead. It was safe. Stan and Doc carried Dave to a table in the kitchen, even though there was a place for dead humans on a hill behind the house. Diesel and I had explored it a few days earlier. The bones we’d smelt were deep in the ground and very old. There was a place like that at Elsie’s homestead with two big mounds and another tiny one. I didn’t like going near it. The place spooked me.

  ‘I’ll help you dig a grave in the morning,’ Doc offered.

  Stan shook his head. ‘If you’re the only doctor for thousands of miles, then I reckon there’s plenty of other things you need to be doing back in town.’

  ‘Matron will be expecting me for hospital rounds after breakfast.’ Doc sighed. ‘But we could start digging at first light.’

  ‘I remember your Matron from when me tonsils came out last winter. She liked everything to run tickety-boo, and she’s not one to be kept waiting.’ Stan tapped Doc on the arm. ‘Don’t you worry about the grave, Doc. You get on back to Matron and I’ll find a peaceful spot for Dave. I’d rather say goodbye on me own anyway.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Stan nodded. He went into a bedroom and came back with a sheet and covered Dave’s body. Then he sat on a chair next to the radio box and its funny bicycle pedals.

  ‘I’ll send a message to Hedland while you get a cuppa going.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Doc set a fire in the stove and filled the kettle while Stan pedalled furiously. Radio crackle hurt my ears and suddenly another man began speaking.

  ‘G’day, Everett,’ Stan replied. ‘Doc arrived safely, over.’

  ‘How’s Dave? Over.’

  ‘He didn’t make it.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the Everett voice murmured, ‘over.’

  There was a crackly no-word silence, then Doc walked across the room, took the handset from Stan and said, ‘I’ll fly back at first light. Thanks, Everett, over.’ He replaced the handset and the men settled on the verandah with mugs of tea and canned beans from the pantry.

  My stomach rumbled and Diesel drooled.

  The room held the scents of four different people and a cat, all long gone. Other animal smells on the verandah were fresher. I snuffled the place where a fox had crouched the night before. A smear of blood showed where she’d caught a rat and I raised my nose in the direction the fox had dragged her kill. There were more rats scuttling behind the kitchen wall. Maybe she’d return tonight.

  Diesel scratched at the wall while I turned around a few times then lay under the table that was holding Dave. His skin smelt bad, but something of Dave lingered in the air. It was a soft presence. I huddled in Dave’s death shadow, snapping at sleepy flies and wishing Elsie was here to whisper soft words into my ears. Dave was my link to Elsie. How could I find her without him?

  As I rested my head on my paws, I listened to the men speak. Every now and then Stan shifted and his breath changed as he peered at his friend’s still body.

  ‘I’ll bet things are different in Port Hedland now that it’s become a military garrison,’ Stan said.

  My ears pricked up. Hedland was where Stan was t
aking the cattle.

  ‘You’re not wrong.’ Doc’s voice was patient, but I smelt his exhaustion.

  ‘I heard there are over one hundred soldiers in town.’

  ‘More now,’ Doc told him, ‘as well as Yank pilots and Dutch evacuees. Most of the women and kiddies have gone south and those that haven’t are nervy – except Matron.’ Doc smiled. ‘Matron says that even if we’re bombed, she’ll stay to look after the patients. It’s brave of her. Every day there are fresh rumours, especially since that article about the pearlers.’

  Stan sat forward. ‘What article was that?’

  ‘A newspaper fellow reckons the Japs working on pearl luggers have been making secret maps.’ Doc shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it. When I took out a Japanese bloke’s appendix last year, he was more worried about an invasion than me. As soon as he was fit enough, the army locked him in the Broome jail. Then they sent him to a camp in Victoria.’ Doc sighed. ‘All the old pearl divers are interned now.’

  ‘Where they should be,’ Stan said. ‘Ya can’t trust ’em, Doc.’

  ‘Maybe, but this fellow was born in Broome, so was his father. Seemed to me that he was stuck between two worlds.’

  ‘I served with the Light Horse Regiment in the Great War,’ Stan said, ‘and a Japanese ship, the Ibuki, escorted us from Fremantle to the Middle East. They were our allies then, and we were glad of their ship’s protection, but things have changed since 1914.’

  The men talked about another long-ago War, using strange words I hadn’t heard before. I soon lost interest and dozed near Dave’s body, remembering the day he’d promised Elsie to find me a nice home. If Doc took me to Hedland, maybe Elsie could track me down.

  My ears lifted. There were voices outside. I growled, but Stan didn’t notice.

  Doc was saying, ‘He copped a lungful of gas and that was the end of his war.’

  ‘Did he make it home?’

  ‘Yes, but his health was ruined.’

  I growled again. This time Doc turned.

  ‘What’s the dog’s name?’ he asked.

  ‘The station girl called her something fancy, but Dave just called her Dog. She seemed happy to answer to that.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can keep her,’ Doc said. ‘My wife is busy with our baby and I’m in the air every second day.’

  ‘Couldn’t the dog go in the plane with you?’

  ‘She’d have to sit very still.’

  ‘She didn’t move from Dave’s side all day.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Doc watched me guarding Dave’s body. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll keep my word and try to find her a good home.’

  ‘Won’t be easy,’ Stan muttered. ‘No one wants a dog at the moment. The men who’ve joined the army gave away their cattle dogs. Or shot them.’

  ‘That seems a bit rough.’

  Stan leant down to pat Diesel’s head and said, ‘We’re all making hard choices now.’

  Doc frowned. ‘I might be able to leave her in one of the remote communities.’

  ‘She’s the kind of dog that needs one person to love, Doc. I’d rather bury her with Dave than send her somewhere you’re not sure about.’

  My legs trembled. Would Stan really do that to me?

  ‘It’s a pity,’ Stan continued. ‘Her mum was a cracker, a pedigree something or other, and a great herder. Dave said the father was dingo, but apart from the eyes, I can’t see it. She’s a good rabbiter though, and not afraid to get among the cattle.’ He sighed. ‘Look, Doc, I know Dave made a promise to the girl, and now you’ve made a promise to him, but Dave wouldn’t have wanted the dog going to just anyone.’

  But he’d want me to live, I thought, wishing I had words to tell them.

  ‘If you can’t keep the dog, then maybe it’s better if I shoot her.’

  I slunk into a corner. I knew about shooting. When an animal was sick or couldn’t keep up with the herd, a stockman took it aside with a gun. Once the mob passed, there’d be a click then a bang and the animal would be dead. Sometimes the stockmen even ate the animal.

  I scratched a flea and tried to stop shaking. I didn’t want to be eaten.

  If I crouched lower, maybe I could creep past the men and slip away. But if I did that, how would I get to Hedland and find Elsie?

  Before I could move I heard the voices again and smelt dogs. I howled. Diesel leapt up and ran into the yard. As Stan reached for his gun, two men called from the darkness.

  ‘G’day, boss.’

  Stan put down his rifle.

  ‘Hello, Bernie.’ I heard Stan’s relieved breath. ‘How’s your family?’

  ‘Not bad,’ Bernie replied. ‘We saw the plane earlier and followed it to the airstrip. Is everything all right? We promised the station Missus we’d keep an eye on the homestead.’

  ‘There was an accident,’ Stan said. ‘This is the doctor.’

  Bernie shook hands with Doc then pointed to his friend.

  ‘That’s Jarli,’ he said.

  The men perched on the verandah step. While Doc made a fresh pot of tea Stan told them about Dave’s accident.

  ‘Sorry,’ Bernie said. ‘Dave was a good bloke.’

  No one spoke for a moment, then Stan said, ‘I don’t s’pose you fellows could help me drive the cattle to Hedland?’

  Jarli and Bernie talked together with different kinds of words. As they spoke my mind saw glowing camp fires and a pale dog loping alongside a tall man. My nose quivered as I felt the dog’s long-ago paws tread lightly across the earth.

  ‘Okay,’ Jarli said. ‘We’ll come back at first light.’

  ‘Do you need a good dog?’ Doc asked, pointing to me.

  ‘We’ve got dogs,’ Bernie replied.

  ‘Top kelpies,’ Jarli added with a smile.

  I heard Doc sigh as the men left.

  ‘Shooting the dog doesn’t seem right,’ he told Stan. ‘I guess I’ll take her back to Hedland in the plane. There must be someone who’ll give her a home.’

  I smelt Stan’s relief. ‘You’d be saving me a bullet,’ he said. ‘And by jingo, I hate shooting a good dog.’

  I put my nose onto my paws, breathed deeply and closed my eyes.

  The men were dozing when the radio crackled again. I pricked my ears. A voice was calling. It was the man they called Everett, not the Pearl Harbor voice or Mr Curtin.

  ‘Dingo Plains, come in, Dingo Plains.’

  Stan hurried to the radio and began pedalling.

  ‘This is Dingo Plains, over.’

  ‘Hello, Stan. Is Doc there? I have to speak with him.’

  ‘I’m here, Everett, over.’

  ‘Doc, urgent assistance is needed for a girl at Willoughby Station. She’s only six years old and they say it’s pretty bad, over.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She was on the wrong side of a steer. Its horn gashed her leg. The Willoughby blokes reckon their runway is in good condition and they’ve cleared stock from the airstrip. Can you attend? Over.’

  Doc turned to Stan. ‘Could you organise light for a night take-off?’

  Stan checked the cupboards and began lining up more than two pawfuls of lanterns.

  ‘Okay,’ Doc told Everett. ‘I should be able to leave within the hour. Tell Willoughby to light their flares, over.’

  ‘Roger that.’

  Doc grabbed his sharp-smelling bag while Stan ran outside calling Bernie and Jarli, asking them to help with the lanterns.

  Suddenly I was alone.

  I sniffed and looked around. I didn’t want to leave Dave, even though his body no longer smelt like Dave, but my stomach wouldn’t stop grumbling. I went onto the verandah and licked crumbs from underneath the men’s chairs. Doc had dropped some soft beans. They were delicious. I snuffled for more. There weren’t any, so I returned to the empty shell of Dave.

  ‘Dog,’ Stan shouted. ‘C’mon!’

  I trotted to the edge of the verandah and after looking at Dave one last time, I stepped into the darkness. The nig
ht was buzzing with insects. I followed Diesel and Stan to a long track of dirt where Doc’s aeroplane shone in the moonlight. The men had lit fires along each side of the airstrip. Bernie and Jarli stood at one end holding lanterns. Their kelpies crouched in the dust behind them.

  Doc climbed onto the bottom wing of his plane and I watched him step into a hole up on top. He pulled a cap onto his head, then reached down to shake Stan’s hand.

  ‘Good luck getting that mob of cattle to Hedland. If you have time, stop by the hospital for a cuppa.’

  Stan nodded. ‘Thanks for coming, Doc.’ He leant down and lifted me into the air. ‘Hey, don’t forget the dog.’

  Stan passed me over the wing and Doc tucked me into his jacket.

  ‘Stay,’ Doc said. Then he closed the zipper.

  I wriggled, but Doc held me close. I was too tired to fight so I rested against him. I was used to Doc’s scent, but his jacket held other interesting smells, strange things that I didn’t know.

  From inside the jacket I heard Doc call, ‘Okay, spin the propeller.’

  There was a click, then the engine roared.

  Doc stroked my ears. ‘It’s all right,’ he said.

  As we began moving, I peeped out. The plane was rolling towards the end of the airstrip. Doc turned the plane and waved to Stan. Then I felt his feet pushing pedals. We whizzed along. Doc pulled a metal stick. The front of the plane lifted and we climbed into the sky. I trembled, but Doc smelt calm.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he repeated.

  The plane tilted. We circled the airstrip and I saw Stan. He was tiny, like a spot on Elsie’s map. Looking up, I could see clouds racing past the moon. My ears lifted, straining to catch familiar sounds, but all I could hear was the droning of the engine. The only familiar scent was an oily machine smell that I’d known on Elsie’s station. I tried to peer over the edge, but Doc’s gloved hand held me back. He was staring ahead. Concentrating. Like Elsie used to do when she had to finish her sewing.

  ‘Settle, Dog,’ he murmured.

  A rush of cold wind tickled my ears, then swept along my back. I shivered and buried my nose in Doc’s warm stomach. I must have dozed because I woke to the sound of humming. Elsie often hummed, so for me it was a happy sound. I wriggled and looked up at Doc.