Jimmy's eyes scanned the small crowd as the train pulled into the station hours later. Among the unfamiliar faces was Dhirrari, a short and stocky Aborigine. Their eyes met, and a sense of excitement and trepidation washed over him. He stepped off the train, the last remnants of his mother and father fading. Dhirrari greeted him with a knowing frown. Jimmy put out his hand to shake, but Dhirrari picked up the port and grumbled, “Follow me.”

 

“Welcome to Gippsland, mate,” Dhirrari said, soothing Jimmy's nerves. Let's get you settled.” Together, they walked away from the station, the dust and remoteness evident. Dhirrari threw Jimmy’s port into the back of the ute, and Jimmy climbed into the passenger seat.

 

Dhirrari didn’t speak, which allowed Jimmy to look out the window, taking in all he could: dry river beds, kangaroos, and trees so different from what he was used to. There were dead and decaying bullocks and a pungent aroma that made him frown. The bumpy dirt road rattled his nerves, as did the small group of young Aboriginal men eagerly stepping into the middle of the road to get a lift. He pulled over, and they all jumped into the back, laughing and giggling as they did. One tapped on the window an hour later, and Dhirrari pulled over. They all jumped out, one calling out, “Thanks Dhirrari!”

 

“Who were they?” Jimmy asked, watching them disappear into the bush.”

 

Dhirrari pulled out and continued driving, “Just kids making their way home. Their parents work with us.”

 

“How m-much longer until we get to the farm?”

 

Dhirrari smiled, “We call it a ‘station’, and we arrived about an hour ago. We have another hour to go.”

 

The sheep station was everything he had imagined and more. Nestled in a valley surrounded by rugged hills, it was a world away from the noise and chaos of the hostel. The main house stood proudly at the centre, a sturdy building with wide verandas and a corrugated iron roof. Nearby, a collection of outbuildings and sheep pens sprawled across the property.

 

Amanda, the station owner, was a striking young blonde woman with a commanding presence that belied her age. Her Dutch heritage was evident in her tall, sturdy frame, and the golden waves of hair that framed her sun-kissed face. Her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth, perfect for the friendly smile. As Jimmy approached, she extended a hand in greeting; her grip was firm, almost too firm, and her handshake was full of energy as if she were determined to convey her strength and enthusiasm at that moment. “Welcome to Gippsland, Jimmy,” she said, her voice carrying a melodic Dutch accent. “I'm glad to have you here.”