Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [30]
Olivia hurriedly answered, ‘No, my husband is with me. We were put ashore before the storm. We are taking up land further inland.’
‘So I cannot offer a pretty shipwrecked lady a berth to Broome then,’ he said with a smile. ‘But seriously, this is rough country, surely you are not planning on travelling by foot? I should warn your husband the journey will be difficult. Especially in your delicate condition. Where is he?’
‘No. It’s all right. Thank you just the same,’ said Olivia quickly. The man made her uncomfortable. ‘Conrad has gone to Cossack for horses and we will stay there until I give birth and we are able to get to our farm.’
The man looked dubious. ‘That is quite a journey. You are brave to stay out here alone. Have you met the local inhabitants yet?’ he asked. She looked no more than a girl trying valiantly to hide her fears, though she certainly seemed to have spunk.
‘I saw some natives. Are they dangerous? We were told in Fremantle of the monstrous murder of explorers in their sleep at La Grange some time back.’
‘There are always two sides to a story, especially in this part of the world. I think you’ll find, dear lady, that that event was in retaliation for an unprovoked attack on twenty Aboriginal women, children and old people. I suggest you befriend the local people here. I doubt they’ll think you are a danger or a threat.’
Olivia’s mouth twitched but she remained prim and stood her ground insisting she was capable of fending for herself. She glanced apprehensively at the Asian man standing silently behind the white sailor. Their eyes met briefly and he flashed a smile that disconcerted her. ‘Thank you for your offer of assistance. Perhaps we might meet up in Broome some day,’ she said with forced politeness.
He swept his hat from his head, gave a courtly bow and answered. ‘Indeed we might.’ Turning on his heel he strode back along the beach towards the shipwreck cove. Olivia assumed they would salvage what they could and sail away.
However, had she followed the two men she would have seen them turn into the scrubland and make their way to where some of the local Aborigines were camped. Here the white man, who spoke enough of their language to be understood, asked that they keep a watch on the woman on the beach. Some other matters were discussed with the tribal elders and the two men returned to their schooner.
Olivia, meanwhile, sat on the ground, limp with mental and physical exhaustion. Leaning back against a tin trunk she thought of course she couldn’t have gone with him, but perhaps he could have sailed his smaller boat into Cossack. Maybe she should have asked him to wait for Conrad. Instead she had dismissed him like a lady at a tea party. But at least the unexpected visit had broken her sense of utter isolation. Oh dear, she hoped Conrad would be back by nightfall. Thinking of the evening she suddenly realised she could have asked him for matches. She rose and struggled along the beach to the rocky point but to her dismay there was no sign of any boat.
Nor was there any sign of her husband by the time the dusk drew in. Forlornly Olivia looked at the little pile of dried grass and twigs she’d been unable to light. She ate some dried oats, drank some water and crouched at the water’s edge to splash salt water on her face, knowing the salt would be uncomfortable on her skin, but thought it best to save the precious drinking water. She was tired and sat on the damp sand, soaking her feet in the sea water to relieve their swollen soreness.
It was twilight by the time she made her way back to the shelter. For a moment she thought she smelled smoke, but the sky around her was clear. However, as she arrived at the makeshift camp she stopped and blinked to make sure she wasn’t imagining the sight before her.
One of the Aboriginal men she’d seen earlier sat cross-legged at the site of her failed campfire. Concentrating on his task, he twirled a thin stick on a piece of wood, stopping to blow on it as a spark flared, then another,