CHAPTER TWO

Nellie approached Willie's campsite in the darkness and saw his form lying beside the fire in a strange position. For a few moments she wondered if a snake had bitten him, too. "Willie!" she called. "Ya dead?"

"Huh?" he mumbled drowsily. "Harry, is that you?"

"Nah, it me, Nellie," she replied with a frown.

Groaning, Willie sat up with dust smeared on one side of his face. He'd been dozing by his campfire, too exhausted to drag himself into his tent after dark. He must have fallen to the ground and stayed there. Digging and dry panning all day was slow going on his own, but he'd made a solemn vow beside Harry's grave that he wouldn't stop searching for that elusive nugget that they'd been sure was in the area. They'd found a lot of iron ore and creamy clay, and they were sure that meant there was gold. Willie had found a few grams, enough to be encouraged. He just had to find the big one.

In the early 1880s, the area had been known as the Albert Goldfield, five hundred square miles in northern New South Wales. Back then there had been hundreds of miners in the area, but they hadn't searched every square inch because it was impossible. When bigger gold fields opened up in Western Australia, around Kalgoorlie, most of the miners had moved on. Almost fifty years later, there were a few prospectors in the area, and some had been lucky. This encouraged Willie to keep searching.

He hadn't seen Nellie in a while, but had been thinking about her a lot lately because he suspected the baby was due soon, and by the look of her large abdomen, he was right.

"Hello, Nellie," he said, embarrassed about the state he was in.

"How ya doin'?" Nellie asked. "Ya bin hitting the grog hard?"

"No, no, I'm okay, just been working hard. How about you?"

"I doin' good. We makin' camp," she pointed over yonder, where he could see two female elders. "Baby comin' soon."

Willie felt a twinge of excitement. He was pleased Nellie had chosen to have the baby nearby. "Shouldn't you see a doctor, Nellie?"

Nellie smiled. "Nah, what for?"

"To help with the birth," Willie said. What he knew about birthing could be written on a postage stamp, but he was sure a doctor should be involved. "I want you to have the best care, Nellie. I'll pay for it."

Nellie smiled again. "I be good," she said. "They know about babies comin'."

True to her word, Nellie and the women made camp nearby.

Willie checked on her every evening, usually around sunset, when it started to cool down. Despite her discomfort, Nellie never complained. At the hottest part of the day, she rested in a humpy the women had built. The elder women also rested at that time, when the sun was fiercest. At other times they scouted for locally grown bush tucker. They were shy when Willie was around and kept their distance. If he came to the camp to see Nellie, they discreetly wandered away or sat on the far side of the fire.

One evening Willie called at their camp, and many of their group were there, including children. He would have retreated, but Nellie insisted he stay, and she had the endorsement of the men.

The men had speared an emu, which they'd buried in a pit of hot coals. When the meat was cooked, it was broken into pieces and distributed. It was the first time Willie had eaten meat that hadn't come out of a tin in weeks, so it was a real treat. After discarding the bones and scraps that the dingoes would later find, the men told stories. Willie didn't understand the Wadigali language, but he listened with fascination, as the story tellers were very animated. He likened it to watching a play. He noticed that Nellie enjoyed the company of her clan, and he was grateful that they accepted him. It saddened him that the white community weren't so tolerant of the indigenous people. They were scorned if they came into town, often chased away. He knew the farmers fired guns at them if they thought they were stealing a sheep or steer.

The following day when Willie called, the clan members had moved on, leaving Nellie and the women alone.

Piercing cries in the dead of night awoke Willie. He'd worked particularly hard that day, so he'd been in a sound sleep. He crawled out of his tent and listened, wondering if he'd been having a nightmare. Then he heard it again, an agonizing shriek that split the silence of the sleeping bush. "Nellie!" he shouted.

Tugging on his boots, Willie dashed to her campsite. Nellie was perspiring profusely and in excruciating pain each time her small body was gripped by contractions. Never having seen anything like it, Willie looked to the midwives in alarm, but they appeared to be calm, completely unconcerned. One was fanning Nellie with the branch of a tree and chanting, while the other was brewing something that probably was going to help Nellie with her pain. Willie was sceptical that a bush remedy would be helpful, but when he voiced his concerns, one of the angry elders shooed him away. He went back to his campsite, but he couldn't relax. He knew there was nothing he could do but trust the women, yet it was torture listening to Nellie's cries, and they went on and on.

Willie paced, fretting. Before first light, when he didn't think he could take it anymore and had decided he was going to take Nellie to town against the elders' wishes, her cries suddenly stopped. He didn't know what to think.

Through the darkness, one of the women appeared and beckoned him to follow her. She gave no indication of what had happened, so he trailed after her with a racing heart. His thoughts went to the worst. Had Nellie died? And what of the baby? He was angry with himself for not taking Nellie to a doctor sooner. Logically, he knew a doctor only visited Tibooburra once a month, so it would have been a miracle to have caught him, but he could have tried. He would never forgive himself for not trying.

Nellie was sitting by the fire with her head hanging. She looked utterly exhausted. Willie couldn't see the baby, and his heart sank. He was overcome with guilt.

"Oh, Nellie," he cried, going to her side. "I should've taken you to a doctor."

Nellie looked up. "What for?"

"The baby. . .Maybe he could've saved the baby," Willie cried.

Nellie frowned. "What ya talkin', Willie?"

One of the elder women approached Nellie and placed a tiny wrapped bundle in her arms. Nellie looked down and tenderly uncovered the face of her tiny baby. She managed a weary smile that Willie interpreted as sadness.

Willie looked at the beautiful baby, so still. His heart broke for Nellie. She'd gone through all that suffering only to have her heart broken. He was still very angry with himself for not doing something to help, but he bit it down. Now wasn't the time, not while Nellie was mourning.

He reached out and touched the baby's tiny face, and then jumped with fright when her head turned.

"We got a girl, Willie," Nellie said as one of the elders added more wood to the crackling fire.

"She's. . .all right?" Willie gasped in disbelief.

"Yeah, she good," Nellie said, breaking into another exhausted smile.

For a few moments Willie couldn't move.. He looked at the baby again, this time in awe of new life.

"We have a baby girl," he whispered emotionally. Her delicate features were aglow in the campfire light, and his heart strings tugged. There wasn't a shred of doubt in his mind or heart that she was his little girl. The bond he felt was immediate and so overwhelming that a lump formed in his throat. Her skin was much lighter than Nellie's, as Nellie herself had one white parent and one Aboriginal parent, but her hair was as dark as the night, and she had plenty of it.

"What ya think our girl?" Nellie asked, looking down at the baby with an expression of pure love.

Willie could barely find his voice. "She's beautiful," he whispered huskily. "So beautiful." His eyes filled with tears. "Are you all right?" he sniffed.

"Yeah, I be right."

"You did well, Nellie. You deserve a good rest."

Hearing voices, the baby opened her eyes just for a moment.

Willie thought his heart would melt with joy. He touched the perfect skin on her cheek again with one finger, overcome with the wonder of his firstborn child. "What shall we call her?" he asked tenderly.

Nellie shrugged, thinking about it.

"I like Kate," Willie said. "It was my mother's name. Kate McGregor sounds noble. Don't you agree?"

Nellie frowned. "What noble?"

Willie thought about how to explain noble to Nellie. "Someone special," he said, thinking that was the simplest way. "Like your kadaicha man, someone special in the clan."

Nellie looked at her baby with a frown, so he didn't think she understood. She spoke in Wadigali to the women, and Willie heard the word Kadee. He guessed that was her interpretation of the name he'd chosen, but to him, their baby girl was Kate. Kate McGregor. He was sure she'd one day do amazing things. And he felt his whole life's purpose suddenly shift. Nothing else mattered but this tiny little girl.

The sun had come up by the time Willie headed back to his camp. One of the women had taken the baby from Nellie so that she could sleep because she could barely keep her eyes open.

Excited to share the news, Willie stopped by Harry's...