Free The Bark Cutters by Nicole Alexander

moments the bark had separated neatly from the trunk and lay in two curled pieces.
    â€˜You would think someone would invent a quicker method,’ Sarah exclaimed, when the last trunk had been de-barked and the boys set about positioning the new upright post.
    â€˜Imagine building a house using this method, like the old-timers did,’ Anthony commented.
    â€˜Yeah, well, Wangallon homestead is still standing. It may have taken them a bloody long time, but what they built sure lasted.’ Cameron continued to shovel dirt into the four-foot-deep hole in which the new post sat.
    Confident it was sturdy enough, Anthony measured the replacement railing and, with a smaller chainsaw, cut a ten-inch wedge into the face of the new upright. Another length of wood fitted neatly into the wedge and was secured at either end with a double twist of wire.
    Sarah patted the new rail. ‘Makes a difference with the chainsaw. I don’t think building a house with a couple of axes would have been easy.’
    Cameron stood back to admire the new rail and upright post. It was a beaut day, bright and clear. He watched Anthony measuring up another length of timber, his sister watching him carefully from under the brim of her hat. They would be great together. He certainly agreed with his grandfather on that score.
    â€˜Hey, Cameron, you gonna pass me the pliers or what?’
    â€˜Sure, sure.’ He threw them across to where Anthony was uncoiling a length of wire. ‘So, Anthony, you gonna ask Sarah out?’
    The tinny snap of wire being cut answered Cameron. For a moment he thought Anthony was going to throw the pliers at him, instead he concentrated on twisting a double length of wire securely around a loose railing and another upright post.
    â€˜Well, what do you think?’ Anthony finally blurted out. When his question continued to hang in the air unanswered, he took a deep breath, turning towards Sarah.
    â€˜Too slow,’ Cameron stated laconically as the quad-runner started up in the distance and disappeared around the corner of the shed.
    â€˜How did you know?’ Anthony watched her go, his clenched knuckles the only sign of misgiving.
    Cameron thought about the question for a moment. ‘The way you look at each other. Like there could be a party going on but you two might as well be in the bloody desert. Besides, you gave her a pretty nice scarf and she wears it.’
    â€˜Let’s finish the yards.’
    â€˜Sure, just remember one thing.’ Cameron grasped his friend’s shoulder firmly. ‘Don’t let the grass grow under your feet, Anthony.’
    â€˜Cam, old mate, I appreciate your interest but have you thought this out. Your mother would chuck a spastic if she thought anything was going on between Sarah and me.’ Anthony scratched his temple, the action tilting his hat slightly to one side. ‘Besides, there’s my job.’ Slipping off the railing, Anthony began to work on the next upright post. Twisting the wire firmly across the timber, he began talking of the next day’s mustering job. It was far easier to discuss the trek from the southern boundary than to continue a topic he had not quite got his head around.

The scent of stagnant water assaulted Hamish’s nostrils two miles before his sullen party were in sight of the river. Ducking his head to bypass a low hanging limb, he looked ahead to where Dave trotted at the lead, his stocky body weaving in and out of barrel-sized tree trunks, the occasional screech of a bird registering their imminent intrusion as they completed their descent down the slight hill. Their mounts, slow and deliberate in gait, increased their pace a little as the ground evened and, with the thinning out of trees, they struck the softer soil indicative of a waterway. Pulling up a short distance from the river, Hamish indicated with a nod to Lee that this would be their campsite. Daylight was receding and this narrow