The Mystical Swagman. Gary Blinco

      The Mystical Swagman: An Australian Fantasy

      By Gary Blinco

      Managing Editor: Kevin Aguanno

      Copy Editor: Caroline Sori

      Typesetting: Charles Sin

      Cover Design: Troy O’Brien

      eBook Conversion: Agustina Baid

      Published by:

      Multi-Media Publications Inc.

      Box 58043, Rosslynn RPO, Oshawa, Ontario, Canada, L1J 8L6

      http://www.mmpubs.com/

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author or publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

      This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters herein to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

      Copyright © 2008 by Multi-Media Publications Inc.

      ISBN (Paperback): 1-59146-147-2 / 9781591461470

      ISBN (Adobe PDF eBook): 1-59146-175-8 / 9781591461753

      ISBN (Mobipocket PRC eBook): 1-59146-176-6 / 9781591461760

      ISBN (Microsoft LIT eBook): 1-59146-177-4 / 9781591461777

       ISBN (Palm PDB eBook): 1-59146-178-2 / 9781591461784

      Published in Canada. Printed simultaneously in U.S.A. and England.

      CIP Data available from the publisher.

      Editor’s Note

      This book has been written by an Australian author in an Australian setting; therefore some of the language, including spelling, will be in Australian English. Likewise, some of the idiom, expressions and terms used will be unfamiliar to American and English readers. To assist with the interpretation of unfamiliar elements, a glossary can be found at the end of the book.

      Dedication

      To those who know, but in knowing, know there is much that they do not know.

      To those who keep the curious innocence of children and look below the surface of life for the real truth.

      To those who strive to learn, not just what others have discovered, but also that which is new.

      To those who push out the boundaries of their lives in search of a new reality.

      To my mother, the earth, which gave me life and my friend, the bush, which gave me reason.

      Acknowledgments

      Thanks to those earthy swagmen who passed by the old farm during my childhood and created the embryo of an idea that has taken half a century to grow to fruition.

      Thanks also to Margot Maurice and Mary Weaver for reviewing the manuscript and telling me when the ideas were not working.

      Book One:

      Brennan

      The Swagman’s Heaven

      The white sand road is long and hot,

      As it winds across the land;

      The swagman moves at a kind of trot,

      With his billy in his hand.

      And he makes his way in solitude,

      With his bluey on his back;

      And he faces life with an attitude;

      As tough as the outback track.

      Off into the heart of this rugged land,

      And ever his theme shall be,

      ‘Oh guide my way with a watchful hand,

      Each day and night in this wonderland;

      ‘Till the good lord calls for me’.

      The road lies silver in the midday heat,

      With the trees on either side;

      And he passes the fields of ripening wheat,

      That are waving brown and wide.

      He makes his way with an easy gait,

      Where the wheat fields rise and fall,

      And he’ll often sit in the shade and wait;

      While the magpie trills its call.

      His heart belongs to the land that’s best,

      With her contrasts rare and strange;

      The wide parched plains of the outer west;

      Or the fern-clad hills on the mountain crest,

      Of the Great Dividing Range.

      He’ll tramp the road till his time is spent,

      And his wandering days are through,

      When bush land’s song, and wattle’s scent

      Fill his heart as his time falls due.

      Now he’s near his end, but without regret,

      Though he’s loath to depart this land;

      For he’ll miss the dawn when the hills lie wet,

      On the blue horizon’s strand.

      From coast to coast in his chosen land,

      Where a man and his heart are free,

      If he cares for the good of his fellow man,

      And lives as true as a poor man can;

      He has earned his eternity.

      For soon he’ll go to the promised land,

      When the Lord in his mercy comes,

      To lead him off by the callused hand,

      To a heaven filled with gums.

      And a corner there by a whispering creek;

      For a swagman just prepared,

      Where a magpie’s note at its rending peak,

      With a swagman’s joy is shared.

      He will leave his mark in his native land,

      Where his spirit will ever be,

      On the dusty road and the thin bush track,

      And the treeless plain of the great outback;

      From the heart to the shining sea.

      - Gary Blinco, 2004.

      Letter from

       John Greenway,

       January 1850

      Hello, my boy, this is your guardian, John Greenway, writing to you from the distant past. It is my fervent hope that I am beside you today as you read these words, but I am already an old man and the world is harsh and full of danger, so I may not survive to share this day with you.

      You will now be aged in double figures, probably in your early teens. There will be many new things happening in your life, and strange feelings will be flowing through you. I have a great responsibility to you that I accepted from your father, and I will now