Chapter 4

“It’s actually just under 30,000 acres,” Richard was told about two weeks later.

“Can you explain?”

“Of course. First of all, it’s unclear to me whether the property is within the bounds of Womalilla or of Mungallala. Most likely Mungallala’s too far west. I don’t think Brisbane’ll have to adjudicate. But the land itself extends south of where that two creeks you crossed join to an unnamed east-west road. The land is lightly wooded in the east and shrubby in the west. Because of the road, you’d be unable to put stock in the south, unless you built a separate paddock. And it’s about 4000 acres, six square miles.

“So, in gross, it comes to just under 35,000 acres, but only 30,000 contiguous. How much are they asking?”

“300.”

“Offer them two in cash. I bet there’s outstanding taxes. The Maranoa Council’s in Mitchell. Most likely, they can tell you exactly which ‘town’ the property’s in. I have to tell you it’s nice looking land and should be productive.”

“Thank you. What do I owe you?”

“Five pounds for pizzas and brekker. Not enough petrol to worry about, I charged it as a field trip. But if you want nice prints and specs, I’ve got to bill you.”

“Don’t worry. Can I have two sets?”

“Monday?”

“Wonderful. And thank you.”

Richard decided to call the agent in Mitchell.

“My name is Hollister. I was in two weeks ago asking about a property just west of town on the south side of the Warrego.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Well, I’ve had a licensed surveyor out.”

“Yes...”

“First, it’s not 35,000 acres. And only 30,000 is contiguous. There’s an east-west road cutting off about 4000 acres. [silence] Is the rent on the lease due?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmmm. I encountered three natives. Have any native titles issues been addressed? I’d put this down as a condition of the offer.”

“I’ve no idea.”

“OK. Tell the estate’s trustee that I’ll offer 200 pounds, cash, and I’ll pick up the unpaid rent and whatever transfer fee the lease entails. If there’s a native title issue, make it 150.”

“I’m not sure they’ll accept that.”

“Not my problem. They’re liable for the rent, whether they’re working the land or not and there’s other property available. I’ll come by your office on Wednesday.”

“Yes, sir. We open at eight.”

“I’ll try to get there about one.”

Richard went to a lecture on “black leg,” an acute infectious bacterial disease of cattle and sheep, causing necrosis in one or more legs. He learned it could also affect goats.

In the afternoon he drove to the bank to check his balance, learning that he wasn’t exactly wealthy, but his chequebook agreed with the bank and he had over 500 pounds to his benefit. He spoke to the “manager” on duty to alert them to his possible purchase.

“Land’s always good,” he was told. “You’re remarkably young to be doing this.”

“I want a station of my own. I won’t be able to work this at all for a year or so, but it won’t hurt to make the purchase.”

“You’ve been a client for nearly two years,” the manager said, looking at the account card, “and never an overdraft. When you graduate, think of us as a source of capital for your station.”

“Thank you. I will.”

“Where’s this property?”

“West of Mitchell.”

“We have a branch in Mitchell. When the time comes, I can introduce you them.”

“Thanks.”

Richard got the survey and map (in duplicate) on Monday afternoon. He used some graph paper to try to visualize exactly what he “saw.” He was up quite early on Wednesday and on the road before six. A bit after eight he stopped in Miles and had some breakfast and bought petrol at the same place where he and Ferd had stopped, where A5 intersected A2. He was in Mitchell just past eleven. He located the office of the Maranoa Council, staffed by a solitary middle-aged woman.

“I’m trying to gather information about a property.”

“What’s its number?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a map?”

“Over there, under the glass.”

There was a large sheet map. He located the A2 and the property. He wrote down the number and went back to the counter. “It’s 37-393.”

“Oh. The old sheep run. Bloke died a few years ago. He never made a go of it.”

“Any money owing on it?”

“Don’ think so. Wait a minnit.” She opened a large black ledger. “Looks like it was assessed as of 30 June 1956 and paid in October. I don’t see any assessment for ‘57 or ‘58. May not have been one as they knew he was dead.”

“Could I have a piece of paper stating that there are no outstanding assessments as of today?”

“Sure.” She sat at a desk and rattled off a note on an old Underwood. Then she signed it and rubber-stamped it. “There you are!”

“Thanks. Any fee due?”

“Nope.”

Leases and licences may be transferred when a right or interest in the lease or licence is assigned to another person by sale or gift. However, the consent of the Department of Natural Resources, Mines and Energy is required before the transfer can proceed.

The current registered landholder, or an agent acting on their behalf, may apply for consent at any time. The person the lease is being transferred to (the transferee) or their agent may apply as long as they have the written consent of the current registered landholder.

A lease or licence may be transferred only to a person qualified to hold the interest or right, and is subject to approval under the Land Act. Environment, Land and Water, Queensland Government

Richard had a bite and then walked to the agent’s office.

“Welcome back, Mr. Hollister.”

“Thanks. I’ve ascertained that there are no council fees due.”

“Good. The heirs’ll take 200.”

“Has consent been sought from the ministry?”

“What?”

“‘The consent of the Department of Natural Resources, Mines and Energy is required before the transfer can proceed.’” Richard read from a pamphlet in his hand.

“Blast!”

“I tell you. I’ll give you a cheque for the 200. You give me a receipt. I’ll expect the paper transferring the lease with two weeks. OK?”

“I guess so. The lawyer’s in Brisbane. He can work with the Department.”

“Fine. My name’s on the cheque. And the papers are to go to me in care of the Bank.”

“Fine. I’ll write a tentative sale and a receipt.”

While that was being done, Richard read the various house, store and land offerings that were posted.

“Where do livestock offerings get posted?” he asked.

“Rail station.”

“Thanks.”

Richard made his way to the station, but there was little posted. He then got into his Jeep and drove back to Roma, where there were a number of posting: both of stock and of fats for slaughter.

Roma is home to the largest store cattle saleyards in the Southern Hemisphere. The original yards were adjacent to the rail tracks. The current Roma Saleyards opened in 1969, and are a local government facility that sits 2km from Roma’s city center.

Richard told the banker in Gatton what he’d done. Ten days later he received a note saying that legal documents had been received. Richard was now a Queensland leaseholder. He phoned his parents to let them know and took Barb out for a celebratory dinner. And he thought about what to do during the summer months.

Richard looked at the numbers he’d found in the Queensland economic statistics for meat cattle (as opposed to milk):

1945 4,764,000

1950 5,100,000

1955 5,373,000

Bigger by now. Six million cattle! Well, what he intended wouldn’t be a big part. But summer ... He really needed cash, not more experience. He phoned Lamorbey.

“Hello, Mrs. Miller? This is Richard Hollister. I was wondering whether Mr. Miller would be interested in having me back ... Well, to be honest, I’ll really need the dosh. Oh. Might I talk to him? ... Sure.” Richard held on while Mr. Miller was sought. They weren’t in need, but... “Hey, Mr. Miller ... Yes, I’m finishing second year. And I’ve leased about 35,000 acres for my future ... No, I’m not joking. But there’s no housing, no sheds, no stock. What? Are you serious? Two years? Can I ask my dad? I’ll call back tomorrow or the next evening.”