The Destiny of Darkie Dixon

By Raymond Boyd Dunn

Destiny, that amorphous but inevitable fate over which some say we have no control, was to deal unkindly with Darkie Dixon. That was not the name he was born with. It was not even a dignified Christian name. There was no way of knowing the identity which was bestowed upon him at birth!
This is the story of his life ─ how his destiny was fulfilled.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raymond Boyd Dunn
• Release date: Dec 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311786654

Raymond Boyd Dunn

Raymond Boyd Dunn is a "born and bred" third generation Australian. After his retirement Raymond Boyd became a grey nomad, and, with his wife, spent some time touring this vast country of Australia. He was born in the small Burnett Valley town of Monto, Queensland, and for his entire life has answered to the name of 'Boyd'. Apart from his travels he has lived all of his life in Queensland, and after satisfying his thirst for seeing first hand this wonderful country we live in, settled on the Sunshine Coast to spend his remaining years in the sunshine near the beach.He commenced his working life as a Bank Officer and resigned after thirteen years to become self-employed. At various stages he has owned a Corner Store, a small Supermarket Chain, a Butchery, a Milk Run, a Printery and a Cattle and Grain Farm. He has been involved, in various capacities, in Cricket and Tennis Clubs; Jaycees, Lions and Rotary Clubs and Aero Clubs. He was a Cricketer, played tennis, tried to play golf, and was a keen long distance runner.Upon taking a well-earned retirement he wrote his unpublished autobiography, which was for distribution among his family of six children and numerous grand-children. A visit to Cooktown, where he learnt of the Palmer River Gold Rush, was the incentive to keep writing and produce his first novel 'Palmer Gold' He then settled down to write novels, producing two more books to complete a Trilogy...'An Australian Ranch' and "Carly and Sam...Will and Effie'. There followed numerous short stories, and other novels: 'Lord of the Manor in Australia', and 'The Vintage Years'. He continues to write whilst enjoying life in the sunshine on the beautiful Sunshine Coast in Queensland.

Book preview

The Destiny of Darkie Dixon

White, Blackfella Bushranger

By Raymond Boyd Dunn

Copyright 2013…Raymond Dunn

Smashwords Edition

The Destiny of Darkie Dixon

Destiny, that amorphous but inevitable fate over which some say we have no control, was to deal unkindly with Darkie Dixon. That was not the name he was born with. It was not even a dignified Christian name. There was no way of knowing the identity which was bestowed upon him at birth!

This is the story of his life ─ how his destiny was fulfilled.

Chapter 1

I think we’ll camp here near this creek for the night, said the man, as he drew back on the leathers to halt the two horses drawing the wagon. He was a big man, tall and muscular. He looked even larger still when compared to his rather diminutive wife, who sat beside him on the wagon seat. Their three-year-old son was asleep on a pile of blankets on the floor at their feet.

The family of three was travelling out west into the heart of the outback of South-western Queensland for the man to take up a position of ringer on a large cattle-raising property. They had journeyed along the main track out past the last town, before turning off to follow the route marked on the rough map which they received with the instructions on how to get to the property. It had been hours since they left the beaten track, and in all that time they had not seen another human being. After all it was 1869, and the land out this way had been settled for only a relatively short period of time.

Thank goodness for that, said his wife, with a huge sigh as she anticipated the relief of a halt to the long, bumpy journey. Even with this cushion I’m finding it hard to stand the rough ride.

Well, it hasn’t stopped the young bloke from sleeping.

I don’t think anything could wake him. Do you think it’s safe to stop here? Are the natives still wild in this area?

Of course it’s safe. I have my trusty Snider rifle to take care of any wild blackfellas.

Let’s hope you won’t need it. How much further do you think it is, dear?

I really can’t say, love, but I reckon a couple more days should see us there. That’s if what we were told is right.

Then, let’s hope so. I don’t know whether I can stand more than that, sitting on this hard seat.

We had to bring a wagon to carry our belongings. I know a spring cart would be much better for you, but we had no choice if we wanted to keep our things, and bring enough food to last until we got there.

I know that, love. I’m just tired, that’s all.

Well, wake up the lad, and we’ll get down and make camp. How about some of that delicious stew you made in the camp oven last night?

The meat’s getting a trifle rancid, but I’ve still got plenty of vinegar to clean it up. It should be alright.

Good! I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry.

He unharnessed the two horses, and took them down to the water’s edge to let them slake their thirst while he collected dry wood and tinder to light a campfire. Meanwhile, his wife unloaded what she needed from the wagon to start preparing a meal. The boy was occupied playing in the dirt on the creek bank.

Stay away from the water, son, said the man, as he hobbled the horses.

The boy looked up with a cheeky grin, and then soon was lost in the game which only a three-year-old’s mind could comprehend. The man smiled. ‘He’s going to grow into a fine lad,’ he thought. ‘He’s already showing signs of being very clever.’

He had the fire well alight when the peacefulness of the bush was interrupted by a harsh cacophony of screeching, as if a hundred cockatoos had all started venting their anger at once. The din was accompanied by a flight of dozens of spears which descended on to the campsite, mostly thudding into the earth surrounding the man and woman, but some finding their mark ─ plunging through bodies protected by clothing which might have been adequate for preserving modesty, or against the chill of an evening, but no protection against the sharp, fire-hardened points of the spear.

Remarkably, the boy remained unscathed.

He looked around in bewilderment, not understanding what had happened. He saw dozens of naked black men rushing in to the camp area, but, strangely, he did not feel afraid. His father was lying on his back staring with unseeing eyes into the heavens, three spears protruding from his body, and his mother was lying on the edge of the fire, a long spear pinning her to the ground. Her clothes were beginning to smoulder when a tall native ran over and pulled her away from the flames.

"Why did you do that, Arunta?" asked one of the natives, as he started to retrieve some of the spears.

"We will take the bodies back to our camp, so that we can hold a corroboree and all may enjoy the feast. Tell some of the men to cut up the strange animals. They would be too heavy to carry back. We should not have killed them, but made them walk back with us."

"It would take brave men to lead them, for we do not know what they are."

"I’ve seen white men climb on to their backs, and they do not seem to mind."

"We are not white men, Arunta. What will we do with the boy? Our spears could not touch him."

"Perhaps he has powers we do not know of. We will spare him, and take him with us."

"He does not seem afraid, Arunta."

"He is brave, and does not deserve to die. I will take him into my wurley."

Thus the first fateful chapter in the life of the boy, over which he had no control, was played out in the harsh environment of the Australian outback, many, many miles from the nearest civilisation.

………………

Chapter 2

The raiding party returned to its camp, carrying the two bodies and the dismembered horses. The young boy was carried part of