Brumby Mountain by Karen Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

side.
    â€˜Dingo!’ Luke hit the brakes and slowed. ‘What have you been up to?’ he said as the blocky yellow animal stopped on the side of the road and stared at them.
    On the back of the ute, Filth and Fang went nuts, growling and barking, nearly flipping themselves inside-out on their chains. The dingo eyed them briefly and slunk away, its thick bushy tail swallowed up by a fold in the land.
    â€˜Must have been after those lambs,’ said Jess, pointing to the sheep on the other side of the road.
    As they drove into steeper country, the road wound around bends and cut through hillsides. A red-and-white poster strapped to trees became a recurring sight.
    1080
WILD
DOG
POISON
Laid on this
property
    They saw an enormous dead dog hanging by its two back feet from a star picket. Its tongue was black and shrivelled.
    On the back Filth and Fang whined, and Jess caught the rotten smell of it as it wafted through her open window. She cringed. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t have brought the dogs with us.’
    â€˜I was just thinking that,’ said Luke quietly. ‘Might not be real welcome around here.’
    They drove through two more small towns before the road flattened out again and they came to a small intersection. One road led to a concrete river crossing, the other to a small cluster of cream-painted tin buildings. HOTEL was painted across the roof of one, MATTY’S FLAT POST OFFICE was scrawled across another. Out the front of the post office was a prehistoric-looking petrol bowser.
    Luke let the ute roll to a stop next to it and cut the engine. Jess got out to stretch her legs and was shocked by the dry, cold air. It had a hardness to it she had never felt before. As she opened the front door to the horse float to check on Dodger and Legsy, a middle-aged man in coveralls came to the door of the post office and eyed them suspiciously.
    â€˜This thing work?’ asked Luke, nodding towards the bowser.
    The man didn’t answer but ran his eyes to the back of the ute where Filth and Fang panted, tongues out. ‘They dingo hybrids, mate?’
    â€˜Nah, nah,’ said Luke without missing a beat. ‘These are pure-breds, Mount Isa Shepherds.’ He gave Filth a rub behind the ears. ‘A new breed from up north, bred to protect sheep.’
    â€˜Oh right,’ said the man doubtfully. ‘Got big jaws for shepherds.’
    â€˜Yeah, that’s for killing foxes. They do that too. They do look a bit like dingos, though, ay,’ said Luke, sounding overly jovial.
    The man raised an eyebrow.
    â€˜Nah, nothin’ like them, totally different breeding. These guys won’t touch your stock.’ Luke pointed to the tray of the ute and signalled for Filth to lie down. The big dog obliged, rolling onto his back and growling playfully.
    â€˜They look well-fed enough,’ said the man, still not sounding entirely convinced. ‘You see they stay that way.’
    Luke winked and reached for the petrol spout.
    â€˜Where are we staying?’ asked Jess, remembering that they had only one flimsy swag between them. The western sky was going a pale pinky cream and the sun was quickly disappearing behind a mound of hills. She could feel the temperature dropping rapidly. ‘What’ll we do with the horses overnight?’
    Luke didn’t answer. He finished with the petrol spout and clunked it back onto the bowser.
    â€˜Should we book into the hotel?’
    â€˜Not yet.’ After paying the man, and getting some directions, Luke stepped back into the ute.
    â€˜Now where are we going?’ asked Jess as she climbed in the other side.
    â€˜I want to find the property,’ said Luke. ‘Before Mrs Arnold gets here. I don’t want her hassling me.’
    He pulled away from the post office and the road dipped down over a rattling timber bridge. The river rushed over rounded rocks on either side and then disappeared around a bend.
    On the other