Chapter Eight

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Forge

‘G’day, fellas! Where the blazes have you been? I’ve been waiting for ages,’ shouted Fred with a smile. ‘Looks like there’s rain coming in from the west. I hope you don’t mind getting a little wet.’

‘Don’t worry about us, mate. A bit of rain never hurt no one,’ replied Joseph, turning his gaze to the grey clouds that were rapidly building up in the direction of the Warby ranges.

‘Have you seen any sign of the track yet, Fred?’ asked Daniel.

‘I’ve had a good look while I was waiting but couldn’t find a thing. I think we should look further up the rise. Maybe your uncle was a bit out with his directions.’

The trio moved slowly up the rise, all the while scouring the ground that led into the dense bush for signs of anything that looked like trodden earth. The boys decided to split up, thinking they would have a better chance of finding this elusive track and finally be on their way.

Joseph was starting to think the track didn’t exist, until he heard Daniel call out, ‘Over here, Joe, I think I’ve found it! I think I’ve found the track!’

Joseph and Fred ran over to where Daniel was jumping up and down and waving his arms.

‘Do you think it’s a track, Joe? Do you think it’s the track?’

‘Calm down, Danny, and give me a chance to look.’

Joseph walked several yards into the scrub, his eyes following what he thought could definitely be an old track, but over the years the bush had taken over and it was difficult to be certain. Joseph turned to the waiting boys.

‘Danny, get Sally and bring her up. This is the closest we’ve seen to a track, so I think we’ll start from here.’

Fred approached Joseph. ‘Mate, if this isn’t the track, you know we could be wandering around all day trying to find a forge that might not even exist.’

‘Fred, if my grandfather and my uncle says there’s a forge out there, then it’s there, and I’ll bet it’s the same place where they made that armour for Ned Kelly.’ Joseph had no doubt about the forge; he was just not sure about the track.

Before long, the adventurers and their trusty steed were disappearing slowly but surely into the arms of the ever-thickening bush. The boys pushed on slowly, the old track revealing itself every few yards and then disappearing before their eyes, as if purposely trying to prevent them from reaching their secret destination.

‘Joe, are you sure this is the track?’

‘I’m not sure, Danny, but I’m sure of one thing; if you keep eating those biscuits our supplies will run out before we even reach the creek.’ Daniel couldn’t help himself; his stomach kept reminding him he had missed out on breakfast and the biscuits were just too much of a temptation. He slipped the half-eaten biscuit back into the bag and convinced himself he could hold out for a bit longer, at least until they reached the forge.

Fred looked up at the sky and turned to Joseph. ‘Mate, it’s getting awfully dark; I think those rain clouds have finally caught up with us.’

No sooner had he finished talking the heavens opened up. The sound of the torrential rain crashed heavily through every branch and leaf, transforming the once silent bush into a deafening bedlam of nature. Running to the shelter of a giant red gum, the boys rested their backs against its trunk and watched in horror as their grandfather’s old plough horse galloped past.

‘Shit! Shit!’ Daniel shrieked. ‘Sally’s been spooked!’

Without a second thought for his own safety, Daniel took off in hot pursuit of his grandfather’s horse. The sight of his young brother disappearing into the rainswept bush gave Joseph no option but to follow. As quickly as the rain had started, so did it stop, but Daniel was still nowhere to be seen. At least the rain had made their tracks easier to follow, and at last, to Joseph’s relief, Daniel and the old mare eventually came into sight.

‘Watch out for the creek, Joe, it’s starting to run from that big downpour.’

‘Don’t worry about me, you idiot,’ shouted Joseph angrily. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing running off like that?’

‘I had to, Joe. Sally got spooked, and granddad would never forgive us if anything ever happened to her.’

Joseph looked back down the track and could see Fred running to catch up. The two boys crossed the creek and ran to meet up with Daniel, who by this time sat with his face buried in the opened bag of supplies. ‘Look Joe, the biscuits are all soggy.’

Joseph couldn’t believe his ears. ‘After scaring the living daylights out of me, you idiot, all you can think about are those damned biscuits.’

After a few moments to catch his breath, Joseph finally settled down. ‘Well, it looks like we’ve found the creek, boys,’ he said. ‘If we’re on the right track, there should be a burnt-out stump around here somewhere.’

Daniel got up from where he was sitting and started to lead Sally further along the track with his brother right by his side. Joseph had no intention of letting Daniel out of his sight, especially after what he had just put him through.

‘Hey Joe!’ cried Fred. ‘Did you say we were looking for a stump?’

 Joseph turned around to answer his mate, only to see Fred with his arms folded and his foot resting on the seat Daniel had just occupied. Shaking his head in disbelief, Joseph confirmed what Fred had pointed out and faced Daniel.

‘Danny, sometimes I wonder about you.’

Daniel didn’t know what Joseph meant by that remark, but being Daniel, he simply shrugged his shoulders and stared at the stump.

Joseph reached into his pocket, pulled out his compass and proceeded to check his bearings. ‘Crikey! I can’t remember if we were to head west or east.’

Daniel smiled at his brother’s dilemma. He put his arm around Joseph’s shoulder and said in a most facetious manner, ‘Sometimes, Joe, I wonder about you. Uncle Andrew said west. Don’t you listen to anything?’

Daniel had got his own back as usual -- and always to his brother’s annoyance.

Setting their course due west, the three boys gradually encroached through the long wet grass and undergrowth of the ever-thickening bush. It was now around half past nine and the forge was nowhere in sight.

‘How much further, Joe?’ asked Fred, looking into the maze of thick scrub that still confronted them. Joseph could see by Fred’s expression that he was starting to get a little worried.

‘I wish I knew, Freddy. All we can do is follow the compass. It’s got to be somewhere close by.’

It was only now that Joseph realised why their parents would not allow them to go too far into the bush at the back of the farm. They knew only too well how treacherous it could become. Apart from a solitary wallaby crashing through the undergrowth during the downpour and the taunting cries from the odd crow, the boys had not seen another living creature since the start of their journey.

The boys eased Sally down a slight grade and found themselves at the bottom of a small ravine, only to be greeted with a steep climb on the other side.

‘What are we going to do now, Joe?’ asked Daniel, looking for assurance at the climb that lay before them.

‘Look after Sally, Danny; Fred and me are going to have a look at what’s over that rise. If there’s no sign of the forge, I think it would be a good idea for us to turn back.’

Joseph and Fred climbed cautiously on all fours, slipping now and again on the hidden rocks that lay scattered about the wet ground, until finally at the top of the ridge the unknown was revealed to all: more thick scrub. Disheartened by the abrupt and inevitable end to their search, Fred and Joseph started to make their way back when a familiar voice shouting from the top of the ridge drew their attention.

‘Where are you blokes going?’ 

The two looked up with surprise at the unexpected appearance of Daniel sitting astride old Sally and peering back down at them.

‘What the hell are you doing up there, Danny? How did you get up there so quick?’

‘I got sick of waiting for you two, so I rode Sally further along the ravine where it’s not so steep and followed the ridge. But you’d better get up here, Joe. I think I’ve found the old forge.’

Scrambling back up to where Daniel was waiting, it wasn’t long before the boys were standing in the middle of what seemed to be old ruins.

‘No wonder I couldn’t see it from the top of the ridge,’ Joseph said. ‘It’s hidden by another twenty yards of thick timber.’ 

All that remained of the forge were four large ironbark logs that once supported the rusted sheets of tin roofing that now lay wherever the winds of time had left them. Pieces of flattened iron of all shapes and sizes were scattered about the site, half-hidden by the tall grass that served to conceal their very existence from unwelcome intruders.

Fred picked curiously through the shapeless pieces of iron that still lay where the fire once raged, while Joseph and Daniel followed the trail of discarded iron thrown haphazardly by the sweating blacksmith.

As he turned to join Fred at the forge, Joseph tripped on a small piece of iron that protruded just two inches above the ground. Bending down to remove the small piece of iron, he soon found it to be a lot bigger than what he first thought. After pulling with all his strength in every direction, the object remained defiant.

‘Danny, Fred, come and give me a hand, I think I’ve found something.’

The three boys tried valiantly to remove the mysterious object but all to no avail. Joseph began to dig frantically around it with a sharp piece of flattened iron he had found nearby, determined to dislodge whatever it was from its sodden hold.

‘Okay, boys, that should do it. Now on the count of three, everyone pull. One.. two… three...pull.’

The object didn’t budge one inch.

‘What the blazes do you think it is, Joe?’ asked Daniel.

‘How am I supposed to know?’ Joe snapped back. ‘If you can stop asking questions for once and do some more digging, we might find out.’

Daniel took the hint and started to do as he was told.

Another ten minutes passed and they were ready for another try. This time they were successful as the mysterious iron shape finally revealed itself.

‘Crikey, Joe! It looks like we spent all this time digging up an old nail can.’

Joseph looked closely at the strange object. ‘Don’t be so sure, Danny. I think we’ve uncovered something much more important than a nail can.’

Joseph continued to wipe more of the mud away. ‘This, boys, is a helmet made special for Ned Kelly and his gang. Don’t you remember the newspaper clippings we found in the satchel, Danny? There was a drawing of the armour they used in the shootout at Glenrowan and this is the same as the one I saw in the paper. See! This opening at the front is where they looked out.’

‘Why do you think they threw it away?’ asked Fred.

‘Maybe it just didn’t fit proper,’ Daniel suggested.

‘The important thing is, this was definitely made for the Kelly Gang. Granddad was telling the truth. He did help his father make it.’ Joe by this time was getting very excited over the find. ‘This here is what that Joe fella called the “iron cloth” in the riddle. I think this is just the beginning, boys. There’s a lot more waiting for us somewhere out there in these ranges.’

Daniel looked hard into the dense bush. ‘What ranges, Joe? All I can see is a lot of old trees.’

‘Don’t worry about that, Danny. You’ll see them soon enough,’ replied Joseph. ‘I think it might be a good time to have something to eat before we push on. We still have a long way to go.’

Daniel didn’t have to be told twice, before Joseph could turn around, Daniel had his head back in the supply bag and hastily retrieved the bread and sardines.

Satisfied with their expedition so far, apart from the sudden drenching they all received, the three boys sat down and made the most of their well-earned morning meal. Daniel and Fred chattered among themselves about their recent find and what fortune may lie at the end of their search while Joseph took another look at the outlaw’s map.

‘Three miles as the crow flies south------A miner’s hut along the bogs-------Will keep you from blue coated dogs. What the blazes does he mean by that?’ Joseph asked aloud, although no one was listening. What could blue coated dogs be? Joseph was sure of one thing; they were to head south from the forge for three miles, and then to search for a miner’s hut that was there almost forty years ago. Could it still be there? And what would they do if it wasn’t?

All of these questions were slowly starting to fill Joseph’s head with doubt, but Joseph wasn’t one to give up easily. He knew if they didn’t at least try, the mystery would remain with him for the rest of his life. Joseph checked his compass once more and looked in the direction they were headed. ‘Righto, you two, it’s time to get started. We’ve got a long way to go.’

Daniel tied the supplies to Sally and led her behind his brother and Fred, who were now slowly but surely disappearing into the waiting maze of countless stringybark, eucalypts and tall gums.

*              *              *              *              *              *              *              *

Unaware her two sons and their mate were pushing their way through dense bushland in search of some mysterious hidden booty, Catherine got on with the job of running her father’s business as usual. The thought of Isaac Jacobson getting his hands on all her father’s hard work still played heavily on her mind.

‘Where on earth am I ever going to find a hundred and twenty pounds in six days?’ she wondered. It was the same question she asked herself every minute of the day, but still she could not accept the inevitable. She knew that once the bank seized the property, they would sell it to Jacobson for much less than the six hundred pounds he initially offered. By the time the loan was paid back, they would be lucky to have a hundred pounds left.

‘A hundred pounds,’ she thought, ‘for a lifetime’s work, and what of the priceless memories? No, there has to be a way out of this mess.’

Catherine knelt behind the counter to busy herself by tidying up some brown paper bags that were scattered along the bottom shelf when a soft voice brought her quickly to her feet.

‘Good morning, Mrs. Delaney, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to fill this order for me?’ Catherine could not believe her eyes. No more than a foot from her and holding out a shopping list stood none other than Jim Kelly. She recognized him as the man she had met at the cemetery, but for some reason he now looked much taller. It was hard for her to see him as just another customer, especially now that she knew him to be the brother of the infamous outlaw Ned Kelly.

‘How could this man possibly be related to an outlaw?’ she thought. His greying hair was brushed neatly back, and his full bushman’s beard flowed from a face that had been hardened by years under a hot and unforgiving Australian sun. Catherine noticed his gentle but piercing brown eyes that seemed to hold the memories of a thousand lifetimes staring out at her from under his bushy eyebrows. Dressed in a clean white shirt and a black waistcoat with black pants and riding boots, Jim Kelly did not look like an outlaw’s brother.

‘Good morning, Mr Kelly.’ As Catherine proceeded to gather the items on the list, she could not help but feel a little uneasy in the company of this man.

‘My mother and I would like to offer you our condolences at the loss of your father, Mrs. Delaney. We know what it’s like to lose loved ones, and Bob was a good man.’

‘Thank you, Mr Kelly’ replied Catherine.

‘I suppose you’ll be looking after the shop from now on?’

‘Only for the next few days, Mr Kelly, then unfortunately we will have to close.’ Trying not to show any emotion, Catherine continued to fill the order.

‘That will be a terrible shame,’ was the reply. ‘Bob has put a lot of hard work into this place over the years.’

Catherine’s eyes snapped into those of her unsuspecting customer. ‘Don’t you think I know that, Mr Kelly? If it wasn’t for all the farmers owing us money, we woudn’t have to close, but the bank isn’t giving me any choice!’

Startled, Jim took a step back. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Delaney. I didn’t know.’ 

Realising her unforgivable outburst, Catherine calmed herself. ‘How could you? I’m the one who should be sorry, for jumping at you like that.’

Both she and Jim Kelly smiled.

‘Why haven’t I seen you in here before, Mr Kelly?’ she enquired.

‘Oh, I’ve been in a few times over the years, but have only been served by your father. It’s not unusual for me to be away droving for long periods at a time, and it’s only now I’ve been spending more time with my mother at Greta. She’s over eighty now and finds it difficult coping by herself. You may have served my niece Gertrude Cavanagh or her husband Douglas.’

‘Of course,’ cried Catherine. ‘I know Gertrude very well. She lives up in Green Street if my memory serves me.’

‘That’s right, Mrs. Delaney. She normally picks up supplies now and again for my mother.’

Catherine was now starting to feel a lot more comfortable in his presence, and before long she found herself telling this man about her meeting with the bank manager, John Pottinger, and her confrontation with Isaac Jacobson.

While he was listening intently to Catherine’s story, Jim Kelly slowly ran his fingers through his beard. ‘So Jacobson’s behind all your problems, is he? Me and Jacobson go back a long way. I also knew his father before he kicked it.’

Realising what he had said, Jim apologised and corrected himself. ‘I mean before he passed away, Mrs. Delaney. Never you mind, things will work out for the best. Don’t you worry so. By the way, John dropped in to see me on his way to Benalla yesterday. He’s a good man, Mrs. Delaney.’

Handing her a one pound note, he pocketed his change, and with a nod of his head, Jim Kelly was gone.

Catherine knew what he meant by ‘a good man,’ and realised John had told him she also knew the well-kept secret of the armour’s maker. Whether she liked it or not, Catherine had found herself bound by an oath of secrecy that she would keep for the rest of her life.

Jim Kelly slowly made his way back to his spring cart, his bag of groceries tucked under one arm, pondering over the conversation he had just had with Catherine Delaney. ‘It’s the same old story,’ he thought. ‘Rich unscrupulous buggers using their influence to take from honest hard working folk.’

Jim and his family had been used to such men for most of their lives, and he believed they had ultimately been responsible for the destruction of most of his loved ones. Even though it was nigh on forty years ago, he could not help but remember the look on his brother Ned’s face the day before they hanged him. The sound of the death knell at ten o’clock the next morning, and the indescribable pain they felt, tore without mercy into their very souls. And then to see his young brother Danny burnt to a sickening mass of flesh and bone by police, and laid out on a sheet of bark so all the world could gawk and sneer at a nineteen-year-old boy – those were not things a man forgets easily.

‘Maybe Ned was right,’ he thought. ‘A republic for north east Victoria wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. At least we wouldn’t be sending young Australians to die for a bloody English king in a war we had nothing to do with.’

Jim Kelly had had enough and had made his mind up. He was going to have a bit of a talk with that cur Jacobson. Jacobson’s house was well known in Wangaratta. It was the biggest and most impressive place for miles around. Sitting on a rise amidst exotic gardens, the sandstone building towered above the landscape looking out to the Warby range and down to the bustling town and its servants below. Jim pulled his spring cart up outside the prison-like gates, and with a good shove, he was soon making his way up the winding drive and to the front entrance. He knocked several times on the large oak door, which was eventually opened by none other than the master of the house himself, Isaac Jacobson.

The last person Jacobson had expected to see was Jim Kelly, even though their paths had crossed many times in the past. Before he could utter a word, Jim started at him.

‘Jacobson, you’ve done some lousy things in your day, but what you’re doing to Catherine Delaney is bloody downright disgraceful, even for you.’

Jacobson opened his mouth to speak, but Jim wasn’t having any of it.

‘Using your damned influence with the bank to bring this poor woman to grief. She’s told me the whole story, Jacobson, so don’t try denying it. Unlike you, boyo, these people are decent folk, and I can’t stand by with the thought of her father barely in his grave, and let you get away with it. Don’t forget, you bugger, I know a lot of things that you and your father got up to when you were just hawkers, which I’m sure the newspaper and the police would be very interested in.’

Jacobson erupted in anger. ‘Are you threatening me, Kelly? You and your family have been in enough trouble over the years, so don’t go looking for more. Why don’t you just mind your own business?’

‘My family’s past is out in the open,’ Jim Kelly said calmly. ‘Could it finally be time to let people know yours?’

By this time Jacobson was visibly shaken and Jim knew it. He looked Jacobson straight in the eye, and with a satisfied smile on his lips, turned his back on the rogue and returned to his cart, the echoed sound of a slamming door not far behind. Jim had not felt this good for ages.

‘That bugger’s had it coming, and I’m glad it was me who gave it to him,’ he thought. He wasn’t one to make idle threats, and Jim knew he had more than enough on Jacobson to turn his well-to-do reputation into something far less reputable.

Inside, Jacobson threw himself into his fine leather chair, still fuming over the impertinence of such a man. He tried to continue reading his newspaper, but Jim Kelly’s threat was still ringing in his head.

‘What does he know about me and my father?’ he wondered. ‘Does he really know enough to involve the police?’ Whatever it was, it was enough to make Isaac Jacobson feel very uncomfortable for the rest of the day.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *

Unaware of her earlier visitor’s threat to her new archenemy, and the secret and most dangerous quest her two sons had now set out on somewhere in the wild bushland of North East Victoria, Catherine had just sat down for a morning cup of tea when Agnes walked into the shop, a deep frown on her face.

‘Good morning, Agnes, and what brings you here today? You seem a little upset. Come out the back and you can join me in a cuppa.’

Agnes followed Catherine into the small room at the back of the store and sat herself down. ‘Oh Catherine, I feel terrible,’ she sighed, and proceeded to tell her about the mornings fiasco with Daniel and the broken vase. ‘After seeing that precious vase in pieces all over the floor, I couldn’t help but get angry with him, but now I feel so terrible. I’ve sent them off to school without their biscuits.’

Catherine, after hearing this shocking news, could contain herself from laughing no longer. ‘Agnes, I’d be more upset about the vase than the biscuits.’

‘It’s not funny, Catherine! That’s why I’ve brought along some biscuits to take up to the school.’

‘You mustn’t do that, Agnes, the boys will be so embarrassed,’ Catherine said. ‘I remember when I did the same thing not so long ago when they forgot their sandwiches, and the boys copped merry hell from the rest of the children for a week. No, Agnes, I know it is hard to understand, but it would be better if you leave them here and I’ll make sure they get them after school.’

Still not totally understanding why she shouldn’t take the biscuits to the school, Agnes agreed and started sipping her tea.

‘You won’t believe who was in the shop earlier today, Agnes. Jim  Kelly.’

Agnes didn’t say a word and mildly continued drinking her tea.

‘He doesn’t seem to be as bad as you’d think.’ Catherine was aware that Agnes knew Jim and was waiting for some sort of reaction from her mother-in-law.

At last, Agnes put her cup down and started to talk. ‘Ah yes,’ she sighed, ‘Jim Kelly. Now there’s a man who has seen more than most men will see in a lifetime. I think the devil himself has followed the Kellys. From the day his mother met their father John to the day they buried their daughter Kate.’ Agnes stared into her teacup and went very quiet.

‘Well, go on, Agnes, tell me all about them,’ urged Catherine, topping up Agnes’s cup. 

Agnes sighed again. ‘When Jim’s mother came out from Ireland she was only a girl. She fell in love with his father John, who I might add was an ex-convict, and they married. From what I’ve heard, they lost their first child but had a baby girl not long after. I think they named her Anne. I’m not quite sure. Then they had Ned, then another girl called Maggie, then I think Jim, Daniel, Kate and Gracie. Not long after Grace was born, Ellen’s husband passed away. A lot of people say it was from the drink, but I think that was just a part of it. Then there were three more to another man by the name of King who she married a few years later, but when all the trouble started he disappeared, never to be seen again. Jim and his mother would not only have to deal with the loss of Ned and Danny, but also Maggie and then Kate. As a mother, I could only try to understand the grief that lies within their poor mother’s heart. The whole story is a terrible tragedy. Did you know that Kate’s daughter Gertrude lives not far from here?’

‘Yes,’ replied Catherine. ‘I know Gertrude very well, but it was only when Jim Kelly told me earlier on that I realised she was any relation. She’s been a regular customer here for quite a while, but has never mentioned anything about her family.’

‘I suppose now you know the reason why,’ said Agnes. ‘Her mother died tragically from drowning somewhere up in the Lachlan . They all lived in Forbes at the time and poor Jim had to drive his buggy all that way, and then bring her young children back with him. There are still rumours going around that she took her own life.’

Catherine was so moved by what Agnes had just told her, it brought tears to her eyes. The thought of such loss and sorrow only brought back the agony of her father’s passing and the seemingly eternal absence of her husband Michael.

‘I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to upset you, but sometimes other people’s tragic loss can make you feel you are not alone when it comes to dealing with your own.’ Agnes looked up at the clock. ‘My goodness, I have to get going or young Andrew will be waiting for his dinner. Now Catherine, don’t forget to give the boys those biscuits.’

‘Don’t worry, Agnes, I’ll give them out as soon as they get here after school.’

With a wave of her hand, Agnes was soon hurrying back to the farm, hoping her son was not waiting hungry and empty-handed at the dinner table.

Catherine could not help but ponder over the story she had just been told. ‘How on earth did their poor mother cope with such loss,’ she thought, ‘and how could I possibly keep living if anything happened to Michael or my boys?’

The thought alone sent cold shivers through her body as she placed the bag of biscuits under the counter. For some reason, she had a longing to hold the boys in her arms right then and there, but knew she would have to wait patiently for them until after school that afternoon, an afternoon she thought would last forever.