Doomed Dynasty Pt. 01

"Er ambassador?"

"Why yes, mum told me he was so out-going, contrasting with most of the men around here. And he's remembered as a great storyteller about New Zealand and its people and their way of life. It was not long before some of the women in these parts were falling over themselves trying to get to entertain him. But they first had to get past mother, according to what she old me, and I can tell you that would have been no easy task. Mother is totally defensive when it comes to her family, though you wouldn't think that to look at her. So sweet, so pretty still and utterly feminine. But, when it comes to defending her claim, she's a tigress."

Matt clumsily tripped over his feet and would have gone sprawling but for Caitlin. Clasping him with surprising strength, she continued to turn him in a pirouette, allowing him to regain his balance. So she did know about his father and her mother! He was unnerved.

"Thank you," he gasped. "I'm such a lousy dancer."

"Nonsense," she replied. "Anyway, I'm prepared to come over and give you private lessons if Milly will allow."

"You're got rather good upper body strength for a girl of your, um, your...." He stopped.

"My what?"

"Your fine features. I mean you are slender with quite light conformation."

"Is that the New Zealand cattlemen's way of passing a compliment? I assume if one translates what you just said into American English it means that I am petite, nay, I am winsome with a diminutive figure?"

"Uh whatever you say," blurted out Matt, colouring.

"Ranchers and their women, older children too, are strong in the hands and arms. It comes with having to deal with half-wild horses. I suppose you don't ride?"

The wind outside had risen to a howl but a violent hammering on the door could be heard above it. A man in a thick clothing and peaked wool hat with tabs tied over his ears staggered in as Milly pulled the door open.

He glanced around the room and went straight for Martha.

"I'm sorry, terribly sorry Martha. We got hit by this storm and got separated. Lukas is still up there somewhere. I just couldn't find him... it's hell up there."

"It's all right, Hank," said Martha, soothingly, although turning white. She steered him towards a group of women. "He needs hot food and a warm drink. Look after him."

Martha then went to the phone and asked for a number. She was then connected to a representative of mountain search and rescue and gave them details of the last known position of her husband up on the mountain slopes.

She, Caitlin and Milly raced off to the search headquarters.

The party soon died, and guests filed out of the door, wishing Matt a happy birthday. The smiles for him faded as they left; they all knew that a man alone on a mountainside lashed by a snowstorm would be having no picnic.

Ponto made a fresh pot of coffee.

He and Matt were alone. Ponto stared into his coffee cup, not drinking. Suddenly he announced, "Lukas is good in the mountains. I reckon I know where he would head for, a cave not far from where he was when Hank last saw him. I think I will take a look."

"I'm coming too," Matt said. "It's too dangerous to go by yourself."

Ponto eyed him coolly, and then shrugged. "As you like, but Milly will kill me for this."

Four hours later, assisted by a low-powered battery light attached around their hunting caps, ear flaps held in place by a tie under their chins, Ponto and Matt were thankful as they climbed the wind-driven snow was lashing their backs rather than coming into them head-on.

They were heading to a derelict trapper's cabin that Ponto felt he should check out. Just as they neared it he slipped on iced rocks, wrenching his left ankle. He was in agony.

Inside the cabin they were relieved to find an emergency pack comprising liniment, bandages, a needle and strong cotton, aspirin and, somewhat inexplicable, a large bottle of Buckley's Canadian cough mixture.

Matt untied a larger canvas parcel to reveal several pairs of tramping socks, two thick blankets, and some chocolate and dried fruit.

"Well, Ponto. You can do very nicely for yourself here. I guess it's time for me to push on. Give me directions."

Ponto sensed that Matt would go, whether or not he was given directions. But he also knew that another life was in danger of being lost if Matt went out into unknown territory unguided.

Anticipating Ponto's dilemma, Matt calmly said: "Dad helped give you your chance Ponto. Now it's your turn to repay the favour. We all have to take chances some times."

Ponto's eyes rolled upward, and he groaned, not in pain but because he knew what he must do and try to ignore Milly's wrath for the time being. "Keep walking straight up for about half a mile and you should come to location of the windmill. Check around for footprints. Look in the lee of drifts or rocky outcrops or even beside fallen trees, as the wind-driven snow may not have obliterated all of Lukas' tracks. It will be tough going, try to avoid the drifts but don't veer too much to the left or right. You will know when you reach the location of the windmill because the ground suddenly flattens out into an area of about half an acre, with no trees.

Matt trudged onwards, his heavy cattleman's coat extending almost to his ankles made it really heavy going. He was keen to avoid plunging into drifts up to his ass' as fighting to get free would be exhausting.

He was relieved to reach the small plateau that Ponto had described. Stumbling around in the darkness through the thick snow Matt found the windmill. The shed protecting the pump was empty, and there were no footprints.

The small cave Ponto had told him about was to the nor-east. Matt took a compass bearing and headed off, feeling the chill and being rather apprehensive and feeling very much alone. His spotlight illuminated less than a couple of yards ahead of his feet.

He was still well short of the cave site when he stumbled, fell heavily and rolled down a short incline into a small bowl. He was conscious that he'd barely missed hitting a rock rising out of the snow like a dorsal fin. Resting to catch his breath, he realised that he was up against something soft that was too unyielding to be snow. Matt reached out and felt the body of a heavily dressed person. It had to be Lukas. He must has fallen the same way in the same place as Matt had.

There was no greeting from Lukas. He remained motionless.

Matt tore off his right-hand glove and wriggled his hand through the several layers of clothing and on to Lukas' chest. It was warm and he detected a heartbeat. If Lukas was to survive he needed to be moved to a warmer place.

Tilting his spotlight down on to Lukas's face, Matt saw dried blood from a laceration on his forehead. He noticed Lukas's blond hair peeing from under his hood and thought that no wonder Caitlin had blonde hair since it ran in the family.

Matt's fitness, from years of horse riding, farm fencing, skiing and rock climbing would now assist Lukas' chances of survival. He dragged Lukas out of the bowl into which both men had fallen, hours apart. Then he struggled to get the unconscious man across his back.

An hour later Matt was close to exhaustion; he realised that he had missed the location of the cave. The temperature had dropped even further.

He reckoned that he had two choices; to try to slide down the mountainside towing Lukas, or to dig in and wait.

Sliding down appealed to Matt as it hinted strongly of being the easiest option; but his outdoors training and experiences had inculcated the discipline of minimising risk. He knew that they should stay put. If they went sliding down the mountainside in darkness or even poor visibility in daylight they easily could slide over a bluff.

Matt turning slowly peered around their location, resisting the temptation to drop Lukas from his back for a spell. He might not manage to hoist him back up.

Just up ahead, to the right, his headlight illuminated a rocky outcrop.

"That's better than nothing," he panted. He carried his burden over to this possible refuge and gently lowered Lukas on to the snow.

On the leeward side of the rocks, the snow cover was quite thin. He scraped it away and found hard dry but frozen ground.

Standing over the cleared area, in the freezing cold, Matt stripped down to his underpants, and did likewise with Lukas. He then rolled Lukas onto a bed of Lukas's clothes and then lay against him, pulling his own clothes over them topped by the two blankets he'd unrolled from above his haversack that he'd been forced to place over his chest before hauling Lukas on to his back. He wanted to transfer the warmth in his body to Lukas. He tried to get some warm liquid from the thermos into Lukas but could not get the unconscious man to swallow. The final thing Matt did, before lying down, was to scatter the contents of his haversack around the area. He then fell asleep, exhausted.

Just before 11.30 the next morning a search team came across a number of items, half-buried in fresh snow.

"There must be somebody around here, somebody with a bit of nous. He's probably behind that outcrop," called the leading searcher.

In less than a minute Matt and Lukas had been found.

The rescuers wrapped both men in thermal blankets, and Matt gulped down a warm drink and was given some biscuits. Lukas remained unconscious.

"We've got to get this one down quickly; he's in a bad way," said the leader. "Carter, radio HQ and tell them that we have found both men, alive. Say we are on our way down and to have emergency services waiting."

Matt croaked, "Leave me here, I'll be all right. Just get him down as fast as you can."

The Ensign reporter accompanying the search team noted down Matt's request and next day that quote would appear as the secondary heading of the front page lead article in The Ensign titled, 'Selfless Act of Mountain Hero'.

Of course, Matt's request was ignored. The main party raced away with Lukas while the two remaining members placed Matt on a rescue sled and followed a little more leisurely behind. They refused to let him walk. "You've lost a great deal of body heat, stay put and warm up."

The reception crowd had dispersed by the time Matt's rescuers got him back down the mountain. He was driven back to the nursing centre for a medical check.

Waiting there for him were Milly and Ponto. Matt was told that Lukas was awake and coming along fine, though he was suffering slight frostbite to his feet.

"What took you so long? They found me at midnight," cracked Ponto, giving Matt the thumbs up and grinning at him so widely that gaps in his yellow line of teeth were showing.

Milly hugged Matt and said, "Well, I'll not growl about a stupid man and especially a young dumbcluck who should be packed off home this instant. But I will say this Matt; you've made me very proud."

Milly burst into tears.

Ponto and Matt looked at her helplessly. It was left to one of the rescue team to put his big meaty arm around her and say, "Hush dear, keep calm. We don't want to spook our young hero, do we now?"

Nursing staff attended to Matt's minor abrasions and two of the younger nurses volunteered to give him a bath before he received a complete medical check.

The deep laughter and high squeals coming from the bathroom indicated to Milly that her nephew appeared to be recovering very well from his ordeal.

They were just leaving the nursing centre when Martha rushed up to Matt, hugged him tightly and smothered him with kisses, crooning, "Oh, my hero, oh my hero."

He was thinking if only he were 20 years older when he felt Martha step away and a slender form came into his arms. He looked down into the pale face and bright red lips of Caitlin. In a perfectly natural move he leant down and kissed her gently.

"Thank you, oh thank you for bringing daddy home," she said, holding up her face to be kissed again.

"That's enough of that Matt. We need to go home and cable your parents. I think this is going to change attitudes about you back home."

"Sorry Milly. I can't seem to get free," called Matt, with a silly grin on his face. He had the notion that what he was feeling right then was what people call love.

Matt stayed on for another two and a half years, and he and Caitlin became very close.

At times he worked in haymaking gangs, just as his father had done before him, and repeatedly blighted his reputation by getting into fights and becoming outrageously drunk at the end-of-haymaking parties.

"Just like your father from what I've been told," Milly sighed, attending to a cut above her nephew's eyes and lacerations to his knuckles. "I suppose the other fellow looks even worse than you do?"

"Both of the buggers do," Matt said evenly, giving no indication that that the iodine was biting very painfully as it was applied to his head wound. "I'm hungry."

Matt never got to Ponto's brother's big spread that Ponto confessed was mostly semi-desert but he arranged for Matt to join the traditional Upper Green River Cattle Association cattle trek. The June drive up the mountainside brought Matt closest to the feeling of being a cowboy.

Some of the drovers (a word that mystified the Wyoming cattlemen when Matt used it) were absolute characters. He thrived in their company, being an adept pupil at learning the art of spitting and cussing. Actually he did not find the drive particularly exciting, though his adrenaline fired up at times when he was dealing with spirited bulls and the occasional breakaway of a bunch of steers acting like hoons.

* * *

Wyoming's economy was once almost 100% based on cattle, and rodeos continue to be well supported. Matt attended several, and was finally persuaded to enter a couple of events. He won a silver buckle in the novice section of a saddle bronco championship, scoring a credible 65, but lasted 10 seconds in the ride-off in the bareback division, being knocked unconscious in the fall.

Caitlin who had persuaded him to enter the events, raced out to him, screaming. When the recovering Matt reached up and kissed her they got a rousing cheer from the crowd.

Earlier he'd been introduced as "the brawler and young hero from New Zealand" and many had picked him as the silver buckle winner before his points were announced and with others still to ride.

"That kid from Nu Zooland is a natural," a retired rodeo pro confided to Caitlin. "You'll do fine hanging on to him."

"Oh Mr Kennedy, you're embarrassing me," Caitlin replied.

Matt spent a lot of time hunting and fishing and tramping. He and Ponto went down to the famous South Pass, where pioneers had taken wagons, cattle and their possessions through to settle in California. Matt, thinking about really narrow Arthur's Pass through the mountains back home, was surprise to find that the South Pass penetrating the Rockies was two miles wide.

In between times of recreational activity and haymaking, Matt broke in a few of Milly's horses and a couple for Ponto. At Milly's insistence they all worked as a team in late summer bottling fruit for the household.

There was a time when life had become a little quiet for Matt. He hadn't been in a fight for a while, or up the mountains and work around Milly's ranch was pretty much up to date. Then came Rodeo Day at nearby Flat Rock.

Though not competing, Matt found himself involved in more drama. He'd just walked out and handed the blue and white flag for the town of Arrowhead to Caitlin, an official flag carrier on her magnificent white stallion, when a wheel flew off one of the wagons in the final of the chuck wagon race. The cheering crowd suddenly quietened apart from a few warning screams when the spectators realised that the runaway wheel was heading towards a group of youngsters in costumes waiting to march in the grand parade.

It sped passed two cowboys, who did nothing but gawk. But Matt responded. He leapt forward and executed what the caption to a front page picture in The Ensign called "A New Zealand rugby tackle."

Matt's action knocked the careering wheel to the ground but the impact dislocated his right shoulder. He was carried away past the grandstand to a standing ovation, a distraught Caitlin at his side.

Two photographs and the story of the plucky tackle of a runway wheel found their way to New Zealand and were published by Matt's hometown newspaper. An enterprising Miranda Valley reporter from The Bugle contacted The Ensign and discovered Matt's earlier act of heroism on a Wyoming mountain.

Three weeks later that story and photographs arrived by mail at The Bugle and were published, much to the delight of Matt's parents and others who remembered Matt. By then the reason why he had been banished from the town had all but been forgotten. Among those who read both articles was Victoria, daughter of the Rev. Armstrong, now calling herself Vikki. She got Matt's address from his parents and wrote him a very friendly letter, adding that she was working in professional catering and hoped to see him on his return home.

In Wellington the 'rugby tackle on a wheel' photo was featured on page three of the Evening Post, attracting the attention of a New Zealand diplomat, back in the country on his final furlough.

He showed it to his wife, and then to his daughter who idly commented that only a New Zealander would be stupid enough to attempt such a deed. They were not to know they would arrive face to face with that same man in a year's time .

CHAPTER 3

Matt's time in Wyoming came to a sudden end. He'd not given serious thought to returning home, as for much of the time he'd been having great experiences and revelled in being surrounded by friendly people. Occasionally he'd felt homesick and remembered that his father had warned him to not return too soon. He never actually contemplated how long was 'not too soon'.

Then came two announcements, making up his mind for him. First was a letter from his mother, saying that he must arrive home in time for his twenty-first birthday.

"It's one of the big celebrations in your life Matt," she wrote. "Your father and I want to share it with you. Why don't you try to persuade Milly to come home with you?"

The second announcement was a complete shock. Just a day after receiving that letter from his mother, Matt was told by Caitlin that her parents were taking her to Europe to visits Lukas's parents and they would be gone for as least six months, perhaps longer.

Caitlin wept when telling him that she had no option but to go as her father wanted her to tour the towns where he had lived as a youngster and to meet all of her relatives.

Realising that a parting loomed, Matt calmed her down and whispered that of course she must go. It would be a holiday to remember forever.

A few days later Matt announced his decision to leave. Ponto immediately made a hurried exit from the room, Caitlin shed tears but accepted the inevitable and Milly did, too, biting on a trembling lower lip. "This day had to come," she sniffed.

Matt placed a muscular arm around her heaving shoulders and said almost like a grown-up person, "Now, now. Nothing is for ever; isn't it about time you came back to live in New Zealand?"

But Milly was emphatic. "No, Matt, my home is here, and always will be. I promise you though; I'll go to back to New Zealand for your wedding."

"Ha, who'd ever have me?" Matt joked, half seriously.

Caitlin appeared to be tempted to say why didn't he ask her.

Many people in the district were invited to a combined farewell party for Matt and a bon voyage party for the Bridger's at Lukas and Martha's home.

Matt was leaving the next day so rode Chinook over to the Lukas' for the last time. The idea was to try to get Chinook into foal to Caitlin's magnificent horse, White Thunder. Lukas had hired a manager to look after his ranch while they were away and the manager been promised a bonus if Chinook ended up carrying a foal. At Matt's request the first foal was promised to Ponto, the second was to go to Caitlin and Lukas was to have Chinook for as long as he wanted her.