to part with, especially when he was taking full responsibility for the project. Tearing the cheque free he passed it to the contractor. They had worked twelve-hour shifts to get the new cultivation ready for planting. All they needed was a good fall of rain. Three inches minimum was required to plant a summer crop. Anthony had already discussed the specifics with an agronomist and although he’d advised to wait until next year, he was determined to plant 1000 acres to grain sorghum and fallow the remaining cultivation until next year. By then Anthony hoped to have more acreage cleared and be ready to plant wheat. He looked at the landscape around him. It was the same over most of Wangallon. The little grass that was left was brittle. What the lack of rainfall started, the cold of winter finished. He needed good rain to plant.
‘Thanks, mate,’ Colin Harris grinned as his grease-smeared hands imprinted themselves with an inky stain of ownership on the pale blue paper. ‘When do you reckon you’ll want us back?’
Anthony looked across the freshly cultivated grassland in the direction of where the two bulldozers were working: stage two of his project. Once the trees were knocked down, they then had to be raked into piles and burnt. ‘It’ll be at least a month before we have a block squared off and ready for ploughing. I’ll give you a call in a few weeks and let you know how we’re travelling.’
‘Sounds good. And everything’s okay now?’
Anthony knew Colin was referring to Sarah’s instructions for all work on Boxer’s to stop. ‘Yep, fine. As I said, unless you hear direct from me, Colin, everything goes ahead as planned.’
As the contractors packed up their gear, Anthony drove around the edge of the new cultivation. The offset discs had dug deep into the ground, bringing up buried logs, old branches and sticks. These would have to be picked up by hand, placed into piles and burnt before a sowing rig was brought onto the cultivation. It was another costly job and one that would need a team of good stick-pickers.
At the opposite end of the new cultivation two dozers crawled slowly through the scrub. A clump of old belah trees was left standing nearest him and such groupings were scattered over stage one of the development. There were other spots on this initial 5,000 acres that he’d personally marked out to be left undisturbed. It was pointless clearing ridgy country, for the soil was too hard-packed to be any good for cropping; and it was important to leave scattered stands of trees, both for the wildlife and livestock. He was also conscious of the need to ensure the continuation of as much of the natural habitat as possible, having been reared on the yet unproven theory that trees attracted rain. To that extent belts of trees would be left where possible across the entirety of Boxer’s Plains.
From the esky on the passenger seat, Anthony pulled a mutton and tomato sauce sandwich free of its plastic wrap. Since his argument with Sarah in the garden, his vehicle had become both his office and sometime home. He bit hungrily into the doughy bread, pouring black tea from his thermos. A 5 a.m. start borne of a desire not to face Sarah made for a long day, especially when he was waiting for dark before returning. Well, he had his wish. The sky was striped with the colour of cold steel, the paddock darkening as if a blanket had been thrown over the landscape. He finished his sandwich.
The Landcruiser bumped across the bridge, shuddered as a tyre hit a pothole and then swerved to miss a wallaby. Of course Anthony knew he should be going straight back to Wangallon, but the thought of facing Sarah on Jim’s first night was more than a little off-putting. Jim Macken was legally entitled to his inheritance. Anthony could only hope that Sarah would be able to come to grips with losing part of Wangallon, for even with this current project underway there was no possibility of borrowing all the money required to pay Jim out. All Anthony knew was that they needed to increase productivity and quickly. The only positive aspect of Jim’s arrival was that he would take all of Sarah’s attention, so hopefully the work on Boxer’s Plains could continue on without further stoppages.
Best they have a bit of time together, Anthony decided. Besides, he wasn’t in the mood to meet the man;