Chapter 1. Gift horses

1888 Port Campbell Australia

Innis noticed the straw coloured twine amongst the wreckage

of the ship. In the sheltered inlet, he watched it eddy and swirl

around the hands and feet of the dead.

It caught on his rolled up sleeves and bare legs, and it

followed in his wake as he and Florry dragged the bodies of the

passengers and crew ashore.

Since arriving at first light he’d had a growing sense of unease.

Standing in the shallows he scanned the cliffs above and the

track that led down to the beach.

There was nothing out of place, except the bodies and debris

that he and Florry had already brought ashore and picked

through for anything of value.

His Nain had been fond of saying the guilty flee when

no one pursues. He smiled at the thought of the sour old

crow - but even repeating her words to himself,

he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

*

Glenample sheep station was a large pastoral holding

surrounded on three sides by flat, almost featureless land.

To the south, it was bordered by nearly 50 miles of unbroken

sea cliffs and the wild ocean of the Bass Straight.

It was at Glenample station that Innis met Florry.

Innis worked at the station as a general roustabout.

He'd been part of a group of travelling stonemasons who'd

built the new homestead and outhouses on the property.

He got on well with the station owner Mr.Gibson and had

stayed when the others moved on to the goldfields for work.

Florry was a jack of all trades. He worked seasonally across

the entire district. He’d worked on boats in the straight

and along the coast as a whaler and a sealer until a badly

broken leg put him ashore in the nearby settlement

of Port Campbell.

Both were originally from Cornwall and became fast friends

almost as soon as they'd met. Mr. Gibson called them his

pair of Cornish bastards.

*

They'd just finished mending a fence on the property when

a stockman rode up.

"Where are you off to George?" Innis asked.

The stockman was on his way to the telegraph office at the

railway siding. "Mr. Gibson is sending a message to

Port Melbourne about the shipwreck."

"What shipwreck?" Florry asked.

"Off Mutton Bird island, maybe five miles or so from

the homestead."

The day before George and another stockman had been

mustering, when they came across a survivor from the

shipwreck walking along a cliff path.

Mr.Gibson had organized a search party and someone else

was found in a cove below.

"Where are they now?" Innis asked.

"Both of them are resting up at the homestead.

Mrs. Gibson is looking after them."

As George rode off, Florry turned to Innis.

"If we get an early start, and go further east along the coast,

we could get a full day of going through whatever washes up

before anyone comes looking."

Florry smiled.

"They don’t call this the shipwreck coast for nothing."

*

The next day, they arrived just before dawn on a clifftop

overlooking a series of hidden coves and inlets.

In the early light Innis was astonished to see a glowing

green cloud in the current and wreckage trail.

"What do you make of that Florry?"

Florry spat on the ground.

"It's as bad an omen as I’ve ever seen." he scowled,

then he clapped Innis on the shoulder and laughed.

"Don't get spooked, I’ve seen it before. There would of

been crates of phosphorous matches in the ships hold

bound for the mines."

Innis said nothing. He watched the glowing cloud start to

fade as the sun began to rise.

Something felt out of place, but he couldn’t say what it was.

There was enough light now to follow the track down from the

clifftop to the shoreline.

"Stop faffing around Innis." Florry said.

"Gift horses don’t wash up every day ."

*