The Silent Frontier Read Free Page B

Luke helped Tom down to the ground and examined his wound. As a younger man on the California goldfields of ’49 he had seen similar serious wounds and knew instinctively that his Scottish friend would most likely die.
    ‘How’s it look?’ Tom asked with his eyes closed and vainly attempting to stem the pain.
    At first, Luke did not know how to answer. ‘Is there someone I can fetch for you?’ he replied and Tom understood.
    ‘I have to find my brothers and sister,’ he said. ‘I have something very important for them. They should be somewhere around here if they did what they was told.’
    ‘What are their names?’ Luke asked.
    ‘My brothers are John and Lachlan. They are twelve and ten. My sister Phoebe’s just a little mite. I know that I am done for, but what is most important is that I have something for them before I die. Please, Luke, find them for me before I go.’
    Hearing the plea in the dying man’s voice, the American disregarded his own wound. ‘I will leave you for a short time, Tom, and see if I can find them before the red-coats start sweeping the hills. Just take it easy and I will be back.’
    John was huddled with his little sister when he saw the blood-stained face of the young American rebel.
    ‘You young John?’ Luke asked, standing over the two.
    ‘I am,’ John replied, staring in horror at the terrible wound to Luke’s face.
    ‘Where is your brother Lachlan?’ Luke asked, glancing warily around the bush for any sign of the British troops.
    ‘He went back to the camp to find Da and Tom,’ John replied. ‘He hasn’t come back yet.’
    ‘I’ve found Tom for you,’ Luke said. ‘He is only a short distance away and has been hurt. I think you should come with me to see him.’
    Obediently, John rose to his feet and took his sister’s hand. They followed the American through the bush until they came upon their brother, lying on his back in a slowly gathering pool of blood. Tears rolled down John’s face. Little Phoebe, who did not quite understand what was happening, stood quietly by her brother with her thumb in her mouth.
    ‘John,’ Tom gasped weakly, ‘Da is dead. I saw him slain at the camp. You have to look after Lachie and little Phoebe from now on. I want you to swear to me on the blood of our ancestors who fought at Culloden that you, as now the eldest in the family, will keep your brother and sister with you. Do you understand what I am saying to you?’
    John nodded, forcing back the tears lest his brother think that he was a coward. ‘I promise, Tom.’
    ‘Good,’ his dying brother sighed. ‘I have something for you to make sure that you are looked after in the years ahead.’ With a great effort, Tom slipped the lacing loose and Luke helped pull the money belt out from under the dying man. ‘Luke, on your word as a Christian, I want you to bury this at the base of the tree over there,’ Tom said. ‘And when that is done, mark the tree with a slash. There is a fortune in that belt and I want you to swear that you will tell no one ofits existence. Swear your oath to a dying man on the fate of your eternal soul.’
    ‘I swear,’ Luke said. ‘Your wish will be respected.’
    ‘Take this for your help,’ Tom said and opened his hand to reveal thirty pounds sterling in five-pound coins.
    ‘I don’t want your money, Tom,’ Luke said. ‘You give it to the little ones.’
    ‘You will need it to get out of the colony,’ Tom gasped, as the pain came over him in a searing wave. ‘I know that you are a good man with an honest soul, Da told me.’
    Reluctantly, Luke took the gold coins; the dying man had better things to say before leaving this world. He took the heavy leather belt and commenced digging a hole a few yards away at the roots of a tall eucalypt. When the belt was buried, he used his bowie knife to carve out a deep notch in the trunk. When he turned to speak to Tom he realised that the young Scot was already dead. John knelt by his brother