Page 44 of Lizzie’s Spirit

It rained a good deal over the next two days, and Elizabeth found she needed to be content staying indoors rather than discovering the town as she had intended, while Darcy attended a session of the local court, sitting as judge-advocate.

It was still raining the morning of their departure, and they were delayed setting out until mid-morning.

Monsieur Larra, who had enjoyed their company—particularly being able to converse in his native French—suggested they wait until the next day.

But with no guarantee that the rain would not resume, she was eager to continue their journey.

They headed towards the Nepean River, which, while taking them out of the direct route to St. Andrews, would afford them good views of the country.

Accompanying them was John Garby, a former convict whom Darcy engaged as a guide.

Mr. Garby was also Superintendent of the wild cattle at large in the Cowpastures.

They arrived at the government hut, which marked the northern boundary of the Cowpastures, close to the east bank of the Nepean River—a distance of six and twenty miles in three hours and a half.

The country through which they passed between Parramatta and the Nepean was generally open forest with good soils, and the road, though only a farm track, was easily navigated.

There being little water in the river, they crossed at the ford near the hut with great ease and safety.

They ate a light nuncheon, setting out immediately afterwards to locate the place Mr. Garby suggested they make camp for the night, six miles south-west from the ford.

Elizabeth and Darcy rode through a fine, rich country and open forest. The cart followed, and immediately upon its arrival Mr. Garby and Sgt.

Monogan pitched the tents, their camp situated on a charming eminence near a lagoon of fine, fresh water.

“Oh, William,” exclaimed Elizabeth, “we are to sleep under canvas. I’ve never done so before—this is so exciting!

” She spun around, taking in the view from all directions.

“’Tis so picturesque, almost like an English park, save that the trees are eucalyptus and not oaks or elms. The grass appears manicured, and the trees spread so stately apart.

Look! There are ducks and black swans on the lagoon. ” She softly sang:

Witte zwanen, zwarte zwanen Wie gaat er mee naar Engeland varen?

Darcy turned a quizzical eye on Elizabeth. “The first two lines of a Dutch children’s song; these are the English words—

White swans, black swans, Will you sail to England with me?

“The song is about people, black and white—of all types. Engeland in Dutch sounds similar to angelland, which means heaven .”

She kissed Darcy gently on his cheek but then stepped quickly back, embarrassed by her forwardness in the presence of the others of their party.

“My apologies, William, I didn’t mean to be so indiscreet. But is this not truly heaven—to be so remote from society, to be able to enjoy Nature in all her Glory, unsullied by brick and mortar!”

Harshita lit a cooking fire, over which she hung a large pot and kettle, and began to prepare their supper.

She had much experience of camp living, having marched with Sgt.

Monogan in India. Maria was minding the Monogans’ boy and walked down to the lagoon’s edge to show him the swans—these were completely unafraid of people and sedately swam by, showing not the slightest interest in the pair.

The peace was abruptly broken by a deep rumbling that came through the ground all around them. Mr. Garby and Sgt. Monogan ran to the cart to retrieve their muskets.

“Wild cattle!” shouted Garby. “They are extremely ferocious and may become aggressive. Stay still! Harshita, build up the fire—they dislike smoke and may leave us alone.”

Suddenly, a scream rang out from near the lagoon.

There, surrounded by a herd of some forty horned beasts, was Maria clutching the child, who, due to the fright of being encircled by such large animals, burst into tears.

Maria was beside herself with fear; she had nowhere to go, every route back to the camp was blocked. Sgt. Monogan raised his musket.

“Stop!” cried Elizabeth. “Shooting a beast will only stir them to anger. Cows are curious creatures; they only seek to make sense of Maria’s trespass on their territory.

Do you wish them, and that bull now come up, to turn their attention to us?

Sergeant, do you know how to kill a bull with one discharge of your musket?

Surely you never had the opportunity in India, where all cattle are sacred.

And Mr. Garby, you know unless your shot pierces the skull or the spine, even if mortally wounded, a bull will continue to charge. ”

“But the child, and poor Maria—even by accident, they could be trampled.” Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “And what do you propose?”

As he feared—Elizabeth, who never retreated from a challenge: “We raised cattle in Hertfordshire, though not as wild and fierce as these. I shall retrieve Maria.” Darcy made to protest, but she turned abruptly to him and also directed herself to Sgt.

Monogan and Mr. Garby. “Black cattle, such as these, have poor eyesight—they have difficulty focusing but are excellent at detecting movement. They are led by smell. You, gentlemen, are male, the same as the bull. Your scent may tag you as competitors. Whereas I’m female”—she blushed—“I should be safe from his temper.”

Elizabeth began to walk slowly towards the herd.

“Stop! This riding habit is too wide; it drags on the ground. If I were to hold it up, it makes my profile very wide—the cows, or even the bull, may see it as a provocation, such as that of a matador waving a scarlet cloak.” She turned to the men.

“Gentlemen, if you could avert your eyes, I must remove my skirt. Pshaw, don’t be missish; you’re all married men—I wear pantaloons beneath, which preserves my modesty. ”

Thus attired in spencer and pantaloons, Elizabeth once again walked towards the cattle.

Constant movement in the herd made it difficult to follow Elizabeth’s progress.

The cows jostled each other to get close to the stranger in their midst, tossing their heads, their horns occasionally striking another cow, who would push back or hurriedly retreat if they were of lower rank.

All the while, Elizabeth spoke softly to them and to Darcy, watching apprehensively from the camp.

“I keep my face down and do not look at them directly, for their eyes are to the side, whereas ours look ahead. As such, if they see two eyes close together, they would think me a predator, for only wolves, tigers, and other hunting beasts look directly forward. If cattle see only one eye, they assume it’s prey like them, of no consequence. ”

As if by magic, the cows stepped out of her way.

With much lowing and some pushing and shoving between them, they cleared a path ahead of Elizabeth and, though approaching closely, never so close as to put her in danger.

If they came too near, due to the constant shuffling within the herd, she would stop, waiting until the animals settled.

For Darcy, helpless to assist her, it seemed as though time stood still.

He watched her: so calm, so relaxed, though never once did her attention waver.

Finally reaching Maria, Elizabeth took the child from her and then told the girl to clasp the back of her jacket, following behind.

Slowly, as before, Elizabeth returned to the camp, Maria trailing like a duckling waddling behind its mother.

The herd, the object of its curiosity gone, all turned and, as suddenly as they had come, thundered away. The bull, looking to where the cows went, reluctantly followed.

Maria ran to Ann’s arms, and both girls, crying and tearful, found comfort in their embrace. Harshita came running up to Elizabeth and took her child, holding it tight to her. Sgt. Monogan came up to console them both.

“Thank you, ma’am,” his voice cracked with emotion. “Harshita and I are once again in your debt.”

Elizabeth only nodded to them. She looked to Darcy. “I must make myself decent, sir. I apologise for my immodesty.” She entered the tent, removed the spencer, and slipped on her woollen day dress. “William, could we walk?”

She placed her hand on his arm, wishing they could embrace, but even here, in the wilderness, she must adhere to the rules of propriety, the emergency now passed.

They walked some distance away, careful of where the cattle had gone, but giving themselves some privacy from the camp.

All at once, Elizabeth burst into tears.

“I’ve never been so scared in all my life. Poor Maria—a cow could easily, by mischance, have knocked her to the ground; the little boy could have been trampled. Did you see how they kicked at anything, real or imagined? I was so afraid I should come too late!”

“And you, weren’t you frightened for your own safety?”

“But she’s only thirteen. Her experience of the world is limited to the town; there’s nothing she could know of black cattle. I, having been raised in the country, am accustomed to their size and belligerent manner.”

Darcy held Elizabeth in his arms. Once again, she thought only of others, even to the detriment of her own safety.

Moreover, to render assistance to another in need, she chose to ignore the rules of society.

He clasped her hands and gently kissed the tears running down her cheek.

“My darling Lizzie, you make me so proud. There’s no other woman who compares to you.

Come, I’ve dried your eyes. I believe the mutton ragout Harshita has made is almost ready, and we’ll soon be called to dinner. ”

A table had been set up for the company.

The conversation was subdued until Elizabeth, resuming her role as hostess, complimented Harshita on the fine dish, which was extremely savoury, and the men for the speed and efficiency with which the camp was established.

Then, turning to Mr. Garby, she asked about the origin of the wild cattle.

“Two bulls and five cows were brought from the Cape by Governor Phillip in ‘88. As is the way of beasts, they escaped and found their way here. The grass was sweet with plenty of water. The natives use cool fires to clear away the scrub, leaving rich grass near the ponds and streams. As you see, the cattle multiplied—possibly some three thousand in this area alone.”

“It is, indeed, a beautiful and bountiful park. Am I to understand the London government wishes it to remain so, to preserve the herds?” asked Darcy.

“And also to slow the advance of settlers into the land of the native peoples. But to no avail. These plains will be split up and turned to grazing sheep, the domesticated cattle pugging the waterholes, horses allowing weeds to grow uneaten, wheat and barley in place of the nutritious yams the natives harvest. My role is to not only protect the cattle but also the native peoples; but, I fear, ultimately all will disappear from the landscape. There’s a selfish streak in us, Mr. Darcy, that wants what others have, though we already have plenty ourselves. ”

They lit fires around the camp, and the men set a watch to guard against the wild cattle. As she lay in her cot, Elizabeth found she was unable to sleep. Arising from her bed, she lay down next to William—the cots were narrow, with barely enough room for her to rest beside him.

“Lizzie,” he whispered, aware that any speech may carry in the still night air through the thin canvas of the tent, “what ails you?”

“I fear I have misled you, William. I said I was only afraid for Maria, but that is only half of it. There’s a small child within me, who was terrified—who is still fearful. When I close my eyes, she sees the horns of the cows bearing down upon her. This child wishes to curl up and hide away.”

“But why do you believe you deceived me? There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s natural to be fearful. But you always appear so strong…”

“So I thought myself. Oh, William, you make me feel safe, that I could achieve anything. But it’s unfair to rely on you so—you have your own burdens.”

“My darling Lizzie, you can never be a burden.”

Darcy held her tightly. After some time, she relaxed and fell asleep.

She always seemed so capable, so much in command of herself.

Yet, beneath that strong exterior, which she displayed to the world, he saw—as she said—the innocent child beneath, struggling to cope with all the changes wrought over the eighteen months since her fleeing England.

Was it selfish of him to have married her, perhaps taking advantage of her vulnerability in the colony?

He could easily have afforded the cost of her return trip to England.

But he couldn’t contemplate a life without her—without doubt, he had fallen in love.

He couldn’t fix the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words that laid the foundation.

Many in London would call him a fool for marrying a woman of inferior connections and no dowry, the daughter of an inconsequential country squire.

More fool you!

He wished to shout it loud enough that his voice would carry around the world to Mayfair.

I didn’t marry you, my darling Lizzie, because of my need for a wife in my role as judge-advocate.

I married you for your heart, your compassion, your intellect, and your sparkling wit—of course, your beauty was but a bonus.

And when did I come to love you? Perhaps I always have, though didn’t know it: at the court in St. Albans, your rosy cheeks tinged with angry disdain; at Funchal, with your soul lost in Bortolazzi’s La pena ch’io sento; at Rio, relaxing on the Hindostan , your chestnut curls sparkling in the setting sun; on Table Mountain, watching an Oread taking delight in her being on top of the world; at Boondi, holding your delicate hand as we walked the sandy beach.

When we became one flesh—when you joined your body with mine.