The Coves by Whish-Wilson David;

Author:Whish-Wilson, David;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fremantle Press
Published: 2018-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

12

Sam knew the contents of the satchel and saw the sheaf of papers with his own eyes when he arrived at the cabin built onto Goat Hill.

He was puffed after hiking up the dirt track. He paused to take a view of the cove, with its ghost fleet of marooned ships and the haze of wood smoke over Sydney-town; at the sight of the canvas shantytown behind the plaza square and the old Spanish Mission across the flatlands to the south. He knocked on the cabin door and was invited to enter by a gruff voice.

Inside the cabin were three men working who were Keane’s best forgers. They occupied a table that was brightly lit by whale-oil lamps despite the sunshine streaming in the open windows. On the table were different kinds of inks and feathers and stamps and blotters made of calfskin stretched and nailed into place. The three men were equally old. Two of them were identical brothers who wore spectacles and barely looked up when he entered. Sam passed the satchel to the grey-bearded man who was their leader and whose nose resembled a turnip dug from the field. The man fastidiously wiped his hands against his apron and then opened the satchel, and slid out the sheaf of papers and grunted his approval. He took up a magnifying glass and bent over the first paper that was a blank title deed stamped and signed by Bannon. Forgery was a lucrative business in the new colony, and these lags were Keane’s favourites because they were expert in crafting facsimiles that authorised ownership to mining leases in the hills, or to town plots, which were sold to gullible new arrivals. Bannon supplied the official forms, and these scriveners filled out the claims with perfect cursive script of the government type, so akin to the originals that it was impossible to tell who legitimately owned what and with no way of settling the matter excepting by warfare.

It was plain from the manner of the three old men that they regarded their craft with the utmost seriousness. The old man with the bulbous nose looked over the papers one by one, grunting his satisfaction and then carefully turning the page and leaning once more into the clear light cast from the nearby lamps. Sam took his leave, carefully shutting the cabin door behind him, not lingering over the view because he was eager to be reunited with his dog, who was with Clement and would be pining for him.

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