2011 - Theses - Flinders University

‘Mrs Jack bloody Forbes, she calls herself. That’s what they say. Never seen her myself,but her old man’s a pretty handy fella. Must be, eh?’ Coles grins wetly, and misses thesudden frown that crosses Jim’s brow.‘Are there many Aborigines on your place then?’ Jim asks, changing tack.‘Bloody hundreds. Seems like thousands. So many some damned society wants to send amissionary to look after them. Over my dead body. Bring the missionaries in and they’ll allbe lining up for a free feed. Nah, better they get dispersed to the stations that want a bit oflabour. What’s your interest, anyway?’‘You won’t believe this,’ Jim says, evenly now he is cornered. ‘I’m the missionary.’ 140The pause he expected comes, and he waits it out. Coles busies himself folding his napkin,and downing the last of his beer, looking anywhere but at Jim. Finally he straightens up.‘That’s it then. Well bugger me. Maybe if I’d have known you weren’t some snot nosedpreacher I’d have written them a politer note. But you get my point man. I got a place to run,I can’t be having darkies and their bloody donkeys and dogs cluttering up my waterholes.Sheep won’t go near them, or if they do they won’t get away from them.’ Jim hears him out,choosing his reply carefully.‘Look, you seem a reasonable sort of man. I can see your predicament. Maybe if I couldjust be out there with them for a while, we could sort something out?’ Jim knows it soundsweak. He wants to talk about responsibility to care for and feed these lambs of God; he wantsto say Jesus has died for these children who were prey to the ravages of the Devil, and thewages of sin. He wants to launch into his Deputation spiel about white Australia’s shame, butin the rude dining room of the Leigh’s Creek Hotel, the words will not come. Instead, he81