THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 4... Part 16.

A continuation of my book.

Sam and O’Connor continued to pan at the river for gold. With the old man it was a daily routine, going down to the river and uncaring whether he panned any gold or not. With Sam it was more to keep himself active and to stop worrying what would happen if Walking Tom and the others did not came back. He did not ask O’Conner what they should do if the men did not come back and it seemed the old man had a real faith they would return.

And true to the faith held in their return by the old man, on the fourth day of the third week the Aborigines came walking into the camp without a word of explanation and brought with them a dead sheep which Jim Who Whistles had slung over his shoulders. Bag Of Bones followed some steps behind, ushering along a young Aborigine girl of around thirteen to fourteen years old. O’Connor and Sam came out of the shack, saying nothing, their faces uncaring as if the Aborigines had never been away.
“Never let them see you worried.” had advised the old man when they had first espied the group coming down the hill. “They have no understanding of worry or anger so just act as if things are normal.”
Jim Who Whistles stepped forward and threw the carcass of the sheep on the ground in front of the shack and stepped back. It was the turn of the old woman next. Bag Of Bones brought the girl forward. The girl’s eyes were wide with fear. She was naked except for the white chalk marking on her body. At first Bag Of Bones pointed at O’Connor and said something which made the girl shrink back in horror and she tried to pull away. Bag Of Bones kept a hard grip on the girl’s arm, turning to say something to the men behind her so they began hopping around and laughing as they all pointed at O’Connor. Then the old woman pointed at Sam and spoke again, which seemed to appease the girl who stood in a pose of great shyness. O’Connor began to join in with the laughter, going forward and bringing the girl to Sam’s side.
“Don’t ask questions, Sam. Just grab hold of the girl’s hand and smile.” said O’Connor, his face now a mask of seriousness.
Sam looked first at the men, who began to dance and wave their spears high in the air, before snatching at the girl’s hand and holding it. The girl now grinned hugely while the men began to whoop and dance in a circle before hurrying away into the distance.
Bag Of Bones took the girl by the hand, leading her towards one of the tents with both of them sneaking looks at Sam before breaking into fits of giggles as they entered the tent and closed the flap.
“Now then O’Connor, can you explain to me what that was all about?” asked Sam as he followed the old man into the shack.
“It’s best not to know just yet.” answered O’Connor secretly.
“You can’t tell me?” furthered Sam.
Without answering, O’Connor opened the old tin trunk rummaging under the old clothes and drew out a large rusty old knife.
“Here.” he said. “Take this knife and sharpen it on a stone outside.”
Sam sharpened the knife then handed it back to O’Connor who touched his tongue to the blade in testing.
“It’s more important to cut up the sheep out there before it attracts the flies and snakes and whatever will eat it.”
O’Connor handed the knife back to Sam after they had carried the carcase round to the back of the shack.
“Do you know how to carve up a sheep?”
Sam shook his head.
“Then it’s about time you learned.” grinned O’Connor, taking the knife back once more.
“It’s a Ewe, this one.” he remarked as he sliced through the wool and flesh.
Sam watched, bending over to show interest.
“Take it in one cut, from head to tail so the skin is torn complete away and used for bedding cloth.”
Sam watched as the old man ripped the wool and skin clean away from the body, leaving the carcass pink in the shade.
“You see that, Sam? Same as all females, that’s the uterus and things which go to making motherhood. Without them things a woman can’t have babies.”
Sam leaned over and learned about the innards of the female, a learning he was to put to use later in life.

Sam shrugged off the dream and memory of O’Connor slicing up the sheep and pointing out the uterus as being part of a female’s womanhood. Rising from the bunk, he moved towards the door and crept down the stairs.
“Hallo. On your way out into a dark night, are you? It aint a cold to be walking in.”
Joe Ingrams had just entered the front door, to catch Sam coming down the stairs. Sam nodded and without a word brushed past the landlord and walked out into the street, leaving Joe Ingrams to peer out of the door and watch Sam as he walked briskly away.
“I still say he’s a queer sort of bloke.” he said to his wife as he entered his living quarters.
“Who is?” questioned his wife as she helped him remove his coat.
“Him as lives up in the attic. He comes and goes, creeping off into the night and sometimes coming in early towards the morning.” replied Joe Ingrams.
“But his rent’s always on time as is asked and what he does aint of no concern to us, eh Joe?”
“That’s true, Missus. But it’s a rum how-do-you-do, aint it? And that maniac as is killing the women is still on a loose cord, aint he?” replied Joe Ingrams.
Joe Ingrams’ wife stoked up the fire before getting out the small tin of snuff from her apron pocket. She took a pinch and sneezed loudly.
“It aint our concern as to what he does, Joe. And anyway, as it’s the maniac out there only murders them Night-Girls then us who aint to the night air is in safe hands and that’s a fact!”
Joe Ingrams went to the window and pulled back the curtain.
“All I’m saying is, it’s a rum do.” he said before  dropping the curtain and settling himself in front of the fire.

Sam walked the cobbled streets without any apparent direction, moving through the streets of Whitechapel and up towards Aldgate. He saw the woman who stood in the doorway and stopped to watch her. She appeared to be prettier than the others, younger and somewhat taller. Not hurrying, Sam crossed the street and walked slowly past her, not looking but with an expectance.
“It’s a sad night for a lonely soul, aint it?”
Sam stopped and turned at her voice then walked back to face her. From behind the closed door where she stood came the sounds of arguments between two men and then the sound of furniture overturning. Then a woman screamed in fear as more heavy thumping followed.
“Shall we move away from here?” asked the woman. “I don’t fancy getting caught up in a murder.”
Sam smiled and offered an arm which she took and he allowed her to lead the way.
“You aint to talking much, are you?” the woman asked.
Sam turned to smile at her as they walked on. They had walked quite a distance through the streets until she stopped to pull out a key from her purse.
“Be quiet.” she warned with a finger to her lips and opening the door she led him up the stairs into a small untidy room. Sam stood to stare around the room before walking swiftly to the bare window, to glance out onto the street below.
“You aint in no hurry, are you?” asked the woman and Sam turned back to her, to see she was already undressed and lying on the bed.
Sam undid his coat, feeling the knife in his waistband and moved towards her. In a savage and brutal way Sam took her womanhood, unfeeling as he mutilated the body before wiping the blade of the knife on her apron and, leaving the room, he descended the stairs and made his way home.

Back upstairs in the attic room, Sam lay on the bunk and allowed his mind to roam back to the time when he had to marry the young Aborigine girl.