Australia

- [Taps]

- [Morse Code Beeping]

## [Instrumental Fanfare]

[Chattering In Aboriginal Language]

[Boy Narrating]

My grandfather, King George-

he take'em me walkabout...

teach me blackfella way.

Grandfather teach'em me

most important lesson of all.

Tell'em story.

[Aboriginal Language Continues]

That day I down the billabong.

King George-he teach me how

to catch'em fish using magic song.

## [Sings]

See, I not blackfella.

I not white fella either.

Them white fellas call me mixed-blood...

- half-caste-

- Yea!

- creamy.

- [Men Shouting]

- Hyah!

- I belong no one.

- [Man Whistling]

- That day I see'em them white fellas.

They were pushing

them cheeky bulls across the river...

onto Carney land.

[Speaking Aboriginal Language]

King George angry at them white fellas.

King George say

them white fella bad spirit.

Must be taken from this land.

[Whinnies]

[Blowing]

Shh.

[Blowing Softly]

[Blusters]

[Whinnies]

[Horse Blusters]

Coppers.

[Boy Narrating]

Them coppers come take me away.

They want to put me

on that Mission Island.

[Whinnies]

- Make me into a white fella.

- [Aboriginal Language]

But they're not coppers.

- Whoa there. Whoa. Whoa.

- [Whinnies]

[Narrating]

And that first time I saw her-

that Mrs. Boss.

The strangest woman I ever seen.

She's not from this land.

This land my people

got many names for...

but white fellas call it...

Australia.

But this story not begin that day.

This story begin a little while ago

in a land far, far away.

That land called England.

My husband must sell Faraway Downs.

But the offer from

this "Cattle King,"Mr. Carney...

is only one-sixth

of what it was once worth.

We need the money, Ramsden.

But Maitland

is just about to muster the fats.

What?

Get the-the big cows ready for market.

Ramsden, you and I both know...

there is only one reason my husband

has spent so much time down under...

and it has absolutely nothing

to do with cows.

At least not of the animal variety.

Lady Ashley,

I-I do think that's a bit harsh.

- Oh, Ramsden, drink your tea.

- Lady Ashley!

What do you intend to do?

I intend to travel

to this cattle station...

sell it...

and bring Maitland home myself!

But, Lady Ashley, it's Australia.

[Maitland]

Darling Sarah, I implore you, do not travel.

Outbreak of war imminent. Stop.

[Sarah] Maitland, your concern

regarding war duly noted. Stop.

[Maitland]

Have plan concerning cattle.

Sale to King Carney not necessary.

- Need more time. Stop.

- [Sarah] Nonsense. Stop.

Expect contract for sale of station

to be drawn by time of my arrival. Stop.

[Maitland]

Cannot meet you. Stop. Am mustering. Stop.

Have sent trusted man. Stop.

The Drover. Stop.

The Drover?

[Laughs]

Drover, you boong lover.

Any of you other Carney boys

want to have a go?

Come on, fellas.

Don't let fear stand in your way.

I'll have ya.

- [Aboriginal Language]

- Hey! No boongs in here!

- He's not in the pub, Ivan.

- [Aboriginal Language]

- [Horse Whinnies]

- [Man] Go on.

Run after your boong friend, 'cause as far

as this town's concerned, you are a black.

You work with them,

you eat with them...

and you sleep with them.

[Laughs]

Oh, crikey.

When you see her, wave your hat.

What are you waiting for, an invitation?

I hate coming to town.

[Man]

Lady Sarah Ashley.

A genuine aristocrat

living right here in Darwin.

Administrator, we're at war.

Oh.

- [Squawks]

- As the officer...

in charge of livestock purchases

for the armed forces-

- She's quite a looker.

- I fail to see...

what Lady Sarah Ashley...

has to do with Carney's stranglehold

of the beef industry.

Her husband, Lord Ashley...

claims he's mustering fats

at Faraway Downs.

- Faraway Downs?

- Faraway Downs.

The only cattle station

in the whole of the north...

not owned by Leslie "King" Carney.

- Lord Maitland Ashley

is mustering on Faraway Downs?

[Man] Yeah, yeah.

- Isn't quite what we had in mind, is it, Neil?

- No. Yeah.

And now his missus has arrived

on the flying boat.

Doesn't look like they're gonna sell

Faraway Downs to me, Neil.

Ah, she won't last.

A delicate English rose withers

in the outback. Hmm.

You with me?

If you must know, I am to be met-

[Yelps] by my husband's trusted man,

a Mr. Drover.

The bloody Drover?

[Both Grunting]

Bring it. Yes.

Move it.

Look at my wife and daughter down there

giving her the royal welcome.

My fianc, Neil Fletcher,

manages Faraway Downs.

Good day.

A bit pale.

Not a bad-looking sheila,

but what's the story on the luggage?

Wants to settle down

in the outback, does she?

If she stays and Lord Ashley manages to

get his cattle down onto that wharfthere...

then we've got a competitor

for the army contract, Neil.

Carney's control of every

cattle station in the north...

jeopardizes the supply of beef

to our troops.

But it's a poor war that doesn't make

a decent patriot rich, so...

I don't want a single beast

from Faraway Downs...

to set a hoof on that wharf.

- You with me, Neil?

- Yeah, yeah. Nature will take its course.

[Shouts]

[Carney]

What about the missus?

No, I've arranged for someone special

to give her the old scenic route.

[Both Shouting]

Give her a taste of the outback.

- [Both Grunting]

- No!

- [Carney] Who's taking her?

- The Drover.

[Both Shouting]

The Drover?

Enjoy the ride, sweetheart.

[Gasps]

I'm Sarah Ashley.

[Engines Revving]

Rate this script:3.5 / 2 votes