Fencing was really hard work, as I was soon to find out but the hard work was offset by Jims' kind heart and good sense of humor.
Around lunch time I'd almost drunk all of mi water.
"You'll end up sick as a dog mate, if ya keep guzzling that water like ya are doing.". said Jim to me.
"I can't seem to stop drinking Jim. it's really hot today and I'm thirsty and dry.", I said.
"Ah well mate, don't say I didn't warn ya."
By the time 2 in the afternoon came, I was laid out on mi belly under the truck, sick as a dog. Every 10 minutes or so, I'd spew up a colorless liquid and mi belly would get a huge cramp in it, which made me cry.
The heat was intolerable that day. It was near 105 degrees but Jim never seemed to feel it as he worked on, regardless. Every now and then he'd come over to the truck and check on me.
"I'm sick mate. I've got cramps in mi belly and I'm still thirsty."
"You'll git over it Yorky. Don't worry mate."
"Can I have some of your water Jim?"
"No mate, I told ya you had to make it last all day. There's no water around here for miles."
"How much water do you have left Jim?"
"Just over half a gallon. Why?"
"Cause I'm dying of thirst. Mi throat feels like sandpaper. I can't swallow and I've go no spit left to swallow."
"Put a small pebble in ya mouth, but don't swallow it."
A half hour later I felt a little better so I crawled out from under my shady spot and walked over to where Jim was still digging a 3 foot hole to put a strainer post in.
"How ya doing Yorky?", he said to me with a big smile.
"I've got nothing left in mi guts to puke up. I'm still dry but I feel a bit better now."
"Good on ya mate. Would ya like a small drink of my water?"
"I'm not sure. I drank my water so fast it made me sick but I'm still thirsty, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to drink another drop of water again. Just the thought of it almost makes me want to puke."
"Good on ya mate, that's what I've been waiting to hear. Ya learned a big lesson today Yorky. I tried to tell ya but ya wouldn't listen mate so I figured ya must have wanted to learn it the hard way. Who am I to git in ya way. Another few days mate and you'll hardly ever drink water in the hot sun again."
A normal man could survive quite a while in the bush without food but without water he'd be dead before he knew it. The Aborigines can go much longer without water than a white man can. Over the long, hot months of working with Jim Smith, I came to realize he had given me a great gift.
After a few seconds of silence, he said, "Come on Yorky, let's go!"
He stuck the crowbar and shovel in the large strainer hole and headed towards the scrub, at a fast pace.
"What's the matter?", I said as I ran to keep up with him.
"I just heard the call of a 'Wee-Juggler'. It must be nesting around here somewhere. Stay behind me and don't make too much noise."
We wandered around the Mali country for about 10 minutes when all of a sudden Jim stopped.
"There it is.", he said as he pointed to a large Gum tree. "Ya see it Yorky?"
"Oh yeh!.", I said as I saw the beautiful white and pink 'Wee Juggler' sat on a dead tree limb.
"She's nesting in that hole in the trunk right below where she's sitting.", said Jim.
"That's pretty high up."
"Yeah mate, that's why you're climbing up there and not me."
"What!"
"Yeh mate, come on, up you go Yorky. I'll give ya a leg up to the first branch."
Jim linked his fingers together and leaned his back against the Gum tree and I put mi boot in his hands.
"Hold it Yorky, you'll do better if ya take ya boots off. You'll get a better grip with ya bare feet."
"Ya joking mate? This bloody tree's crawling with ants. They'll bite me feet as I'm going up it."
"Nah mate, don't worry about the ants, they won't eat much."
Once I reached the first limb, it was reasonably easy going until I got to where the parrot had chosen to nest. There were no branches under the hole in the trunk. I had to bear hug mi way up to the hole. I was about 60 feet high now and each time I looked down, Jims' bush hat seemed to be shrinking.
The view from up in the Gum tree was really pretty. I could see way over the tops of the smaller trees. It was totally silent up there except for the rustling of a few leaves. Off in the distance, out across a flat, plowed paddock, a small whirly-wind was having a lot of fun, whizzing across the ground picking up leaves, dried bush grass and dust as it whirled across to the fence line.
The mother 'wee-juggler' had squawked quite loud and flown off into a nearby tree as she saw me climbing the main trunk. I felt like a big Goanna as I clawed mi way up the last little bit. The parrot had chewed away large splinters of wood from around the natural hollow in the trunk so as to make it big enough for her to get in and out easier.
Jim stood below, looking up at me now, shouting, "Stick ya hand in the hole, Yorky and be careful not to break the eggs, if there's any in there."
Very carefully, I got a good grip around the trunk with mi left arm and both legs. I stuck mi hand downwards towards the nest.
"There's 2 eggs inside!", I yelled down to Jim.
"Alright mate, leave 'em alone and come back down."
It always seems harder to climb back down out of a high tree but pretty soon, after being very careful, I was back on the ground again.
"Those little ants bite Jim!"
"You'll git used to 'em Yorky. Were the eggs warm?"
"Yeh, real warm."
"Good man. Let's git out of here quick before we disturb her too much. She's sitting in the Box tree over there. See her?"
The 'wee juggler' was sat high up on a limb looking towards the hole in the tall Gum tree.
Jim and me headed back towards where the truck was. We chatted quite excitedly as we walked through the bush.
"How will ya know when to come back for the young ones?"
"I know how long it takes for 'em to hatch. When they're ready we'll only take one of them 'cause that's mi policy. If we take both, it would upset their breeding program too much. Pretty soon they'd be well down in numbers and we don't want that to happen."
"Let's go and do a bit more work Yorky. It's cooled down a lot now. Ya feeling any better mate?"
"Yeh, I forgot all about water as I was climbing the tree."
"That's it mate. All ya have to do is concentrate on work, the same as climbing the tree and before ya know it mate, one little sip of water will last ya for an hour or tow. Besides that, it will be good discipline for ya mate."
The rest of the afternoon, we finished digging the big, round strainer post holes so we could start on the next part of the fence construction. We lifted one of the strainer posts into the hole that we'd just dug.
"You fill the hole in while I mark out where to drop off the steel pegs, Yorky."
I picked up the shovel and started to chuck the soil and rocks down around the strainer post hole.
"Not like that mate. This post is what will hold up our fence so it has to be as tight as possible in the hole. This is how ya do it mate. Ya only throw a small amount of dirt around the post then ya turn the crowbar around so the round knob is at this end. Then ya pound the dirt with it till it's packed as hard and tight as you can get it. Next ya throw in some more dirt and rocks but only a small amount and ram it tight again. Ya keep doing that till the dirt is packed tight around the hole, 'cause when I strain the wires up tight, the strainer post will start to lean over if it's not rammed well enough."
"Alright Jim, got it!"
Jim grabbed the axe and a long pieces of braided wire, 18 feet long. Every one length of wire, he'd mark the ground with the back of the axe.
After I finished mi job, I walked down the line to meet Jim.
"Ya finished Yorky?"
"Ya mate. It's as tight as a fishes arse and that's watertight!"
"If it's as tight as old Burt Booths' arse, it'll never move and we'll git a real good, tight fence out of it."
We both had a good laugh out of our little jokes and Jim lit up another Monopol, while I rolled a Drum cigarette.
The hot sun was now disappearing behind the Mali trees in the Western skyline.
"Tell ya what Yorky, we'll go back to the truck and drop off the steel pegs on our way home and that will do us for today. It's been a bit of a rough day for ya mate and I don't want to burn ya out the first week or I'll be stuck on mi own again. What dya think about that mate?"
"Sounds great to me Jim. Mi hands are as sore as hell. I've got blisters on blisters. Just look at 'em?, I said, as I showed him mi hands.
"Oh that's good.", he said with a smile.
"What d'ya mean, 'that's good?"
"Well mate, Stop ya floggin' ya maggot, won't it?"
"Fuck you Jim.", I said with a laugh. "Come on, let's go home. I'm a bit hungry now. I could eat a cool green salad and some cold mutton with lots of salt on it."
"Good idea Yorky. I'm so hungry I could eat the arse out of a mangy fox."
We roared with laughter as we walked off down the fence-line together to get to the old Bedford.
That evening, after a cold shower, outside under a tree, we had a good feed and I went to bed early. I was so tired that as soon as mi head hit the pillow, I was gone into the darkness.
The next thing I remember was Jims' voice saying,
"Come on Yorky! Git out'a that fart sack mate. The sun will be up before ya, if not!"
