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Click here to listen to Peter Carey reading this excerpt, performed at the Brisbane Irish Club on 18 October 2000: There were no dam or spring upon our property each day I took the cows to water them at Hughes Creek. In a good year it would of made a pretty picture but in the drought that creek were no more than a chain of sandy waterholes. It were across this dry river bed that Mr Murray's heifer calf come calling out my name I were very hungry when I heard her and knew what I must do. I had never killed nothing bigger than a rooster but when I saw the long line of the heifer's crop above the blackberries I knew I could not be afraid of nothing. Her eye were a little wild but she was a poll Hereford and very sleek. I later heard that Mr Murray had made a great investment on her and poddied her with corn and hay which must be true for there were no feed in any of his paddocks and although he owned 500 acres his stock was out grazing on the roadsides finding what nourishment they could. I did not care I bailed her up and led her down the creek into a thick stand of wattles with a clearing in the centre. She did not like the rope around her neck she fought and bucked and would of done herself a damage had I not bound her hind legs and tied them to a wattle trunk. She began to bellow terribly. Soon she were trussed up like a Christmas chook but I had no pity nor did I have a knife. I ran up through the scrub to fetch one from the hut. Inside my mother were occupied trying to plug the spaces between the slabs with clay and straw so I took the carving knife from beneath her very nose she never even noticed. Said she Theres one of Murray's beasts caught down the creek. You must be mistaken. I can hear it bellowing from here. I said I would attend to it and let her know. Within the year I would of learned to kill a beast very smart and clean and have its hide off and drying in the sun before you could say Jack Robertson but on this 1st occasion I failed to find the artery. I'm sure you know I have spilled human blood when there were no other choice at that time I were no more guilty than a soldier in war. But if there was a law against the murder of a beast I would plead guilty and you would be correct to put the black cap on my head for I killed my little heifer badly and am sorry for it still. By the time she fell her neck was a sea of laceration I will never forget the terror in her eyes. And this is how my ma found me with the poor dead creature at my feet and my hair and shirt soaked with blood and gore. We have beef I said we'll feast on her. But my words was bolder than my upset heart and I were very pleased she relieved me of the bloody knife I didnt know what next to do having not the faintest idea of how to butcher the heifer and yet not wanting the privilege to go elsewhere. My mother took my gory hand and led me across the dusty paddock to the hut and after tying up the dogs she ministered to me with soap and water all the time berating me and saying I were a very bad boy and she was angry with me etc. etc. but this were for the benefit of the other children who was listening at the door and watching through the chinks between the logs. My ma cleaned me so very gentle with the washer I knew she must be pleased. Of course Annie could be relied upon to tell my father what I had done before he even got the saddle off his horse. He had been delivering butter to people with English names a job that always put him out of temper so when Annie showed him the dead beast he come inside to give me a hiding with his belt a mark on my leg I carry to this day. When it were dark he took a lantern down by the creek and skinned and butchered my beast and carried the 4 quarters back across the paddock one at a time and then burned the head and hung the hide and cut out the MM brand so none could accuse us of stealing Murray's heifer. He salted down what meat would fit into a barrel and the rest he ordered my mother to cook at once. All through this Annie would not speak to me even Maggie kept her distance but very late that night we had a mighty feast of beef and I noticed it were not just my excited brothers who ate their fill. 2 days later I were sent home from school at lunch time to collect my homework which I had forgot again I found a strange bay mare tethered beneath our peppercorn tree it had VR embroidered on the saddlecloth in silver Victoria Regina. I knew it were the police. I entered the hut and my father were sitting in his usual chair watching a lanky fair haired Constable spreading out the heifer's hide across our table. Come on John said Constable Doxcy putting his hand right through the hole where the brand had been. John we know whats missing here. As you can see said my father I slaughtered a cow and made a greenhide whip. Ah you mad a whip. Correct my father said but did not protest or struggle against the accusation. So be a good fellow will you John and bring me the whip. My father did not say nothing he did not move he stared at the Constable with puffy eyes. Perhaps you never made a whip at all. O I must of lost it. Must of lost it. I'll bring it up to you soon as I find it. More likely it were the brand John. Did you cut out Murray's brand? No I made a whip. Did you ever hear of Act 7 and Act 8 George IV No 29? I don't know. It is a law John it says that if you duff another fellow's heifer then you're going to go to adjectival gaol and you can bring me any adjectival whip you like but unless it can fill this hole exactly John you're going in the adjectival lockup. We don't like Irish thieves in Avenel. I can't bear prison my father spoke as plainly as a man who don't like Brussels sprouts. Well thats a shame said Doxcy as he moved towards him. I done it I said I thrust myself forward. I put my hand on Doxcy's hard black shoulder belt and he rested his hand upon my arm. You're a good boy Jim said he. I'm Ned I done it. The policeman asked my father Is this so? But my father would say nothing he were like some creature drugged by spiders. I turned back to Doxcy demanding he arrest me and he laughed ruffling my hair and smiling a foolish sentimental smile. Pack up your things John he said to my father you can bring a blanket and a pannikin and a spoon. I done it I said the brand were MM I done it with the carving knife. Shutup my father says his eyes now alive and angry. Shut your gob go back to school. Thus were Father taken from me handcuffed to the stirrup iron of Doxcy's mare.
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