Page 174 of The Pearl Sister
‘Yes, it is.’
‘What is Hermannsburg?’ Sarah asked as she folded the clothes that Kitty had dropped on the floor last night.
‘It’s a Christian mission. Mr D felt it would be too hot to take the trip out to Ayers Rock today. He says Hermannsburg is far closer.’
‘I don’t like God-botherers,’ said Sarah. ‘They used to tell us stories of the little Lord Jesus at the orphanage, said that we should pray to him for our salvation. All I could think was that he didn’t last that long, did ’e, miss? For all that he was the son of God.’ Sarah stood at the end of the bed with her hands on her hips. ‘What time are we leaving?’
‘At nine o’clock.’
‘Then I’ll go and get you a fresh basin of water so as you can have a good wash before we leave, ’cos the Lord knows when we’ll get another. I like your friend, by the way. It’s good we have someone protecting us out ’ere, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Kitty suppressed a smile.
‘D’you think he’d let me steer the cart for a bit? I’ve always loved ’orses, ever since the rag an’ bone man came round to me auntie’s and ’e gave me a ride.’
‘I’m sure that could be arranged,’ Kitty said and fell back onto her pillow as Sarah left the room.
‘What am I doing?’ she moaned as the events of only a few hours ago came back to her.
You’re living, Kitty, for the first time in years . . .
Downstairs, she forced down a breakfast of bread and strong coffee as Sarah chatted away opposite her.
‘Mister D said he’ll meet us outside when we’ve finished breakfast. We’re to take a change of clothes each because of the dust, but he’s seeing to the supplies. I’m glad ’e’s coming, Missus M, ’e looks like a man who knows ’is way around. It’s a bit like the Wild West out here, in’t it? I once saw a flick that showed horses galloping across the desert. Never thought I’d see it for meself.’
Outside, Drummond waited with a pony and cart, and the two women clambered up onto the board bench. Kitty mentioned that Sarah wished to drive the pony at some point and put her firmly between them.
‘Right. Off we go.’ Drummond gently snicked the pony’s back and they trotted off along the high street.
Kitty was only too happy to let Drummond regale Sarah with his adventures in the Outback. She took in the scenery, which, as they headed out of the town, became a vibrant red, the mountain range a hazy violet behind it. Sarah constantly questioned him, and he patiently pointed out the varieties of shrubs, trees and animals as she sucked up information like spinifex during a drought.
‘And that over there is a ghost gum.’ Drummond indicated a white-barked tree in the distance. ‘It’s sacred to the Aboriginals, and you can use the bark to treat colds . . .’
As the sun beat down, Kitty was glad of her cotton bonnet with its net veil, and eventually the rhythmic clopping of the pony’s sure footsteps lulled her into a doze.
‘Turn left here.’
She was pulled back to consciousness by Drummond’s voice.
‘No, left, Sarah.’
The pony lurched and Kitty roused herself to see Sarah steering the cart into a drive, beyond which stood a number of whitewashed buildings.
‘Welcome to Hermannsburg, sleepy-head.’ Drummond grinned as he offered his hand to help her down. ‘Your Sarah has the makings of a fine horsewoman. You didn’t even stir when I handed the reins to her.’
‘Oh! An’ I loved it, Missus M! Wish I could sit on his back.’ Sarah looked plaintively up at Drummond.
‘There’s plenty of horses here, I’m sure someone will give you a trot round before we leave. Now, let’s see if the pastor is about.’
Drummond led them past a cluster of huts towards a central area which was humming with life. Most of the faces were Aboriginal, the girls of assorted ages all dressed in white, which Kitty found rather ridiculous given the red dust that had already blown up onto her own clothes. There were men sitting outside a big open shed, stretching large swathes of beige cow hide and hanging them up to dry in the sun.
‘That’s the tannery; the mission sells the leather on. There’s the schoolhouse, the cookhouse, the chapel . . .’
‘Goodness, it’s a village!’ Kitty followed his pointed finger around the huts, hearing the sweet sound of young voices singing a hymn inside the chapel.
‘It is indeed. And a lifeline for the local Arrernte people.’
‘Those children,’ Kitty said, pointing at a group of little ones being led from the schoolroom. ‘Have they been brought here against their mothers’ will because they are half-castes?’
