Beach Apples by Vera Loy
Marvellous Matilda’s Motorised Horse
Author’s Note: The genre for this story is Edisonades - ever heard of it? I hadn’t until I started research for this piece. Derived from the name of Thomas Edison - it describes a genre of early sci-fi - popular around the end of the 19th century. According to wikipedia - it ‘describes any story which features a young US male inventor hero who uses his ingenuity to extricate himself from tight spots.’ Often involving the exploration of new or remote parts of the world. Taking all this on board, here is my contribution, slightly modified from the original concept, with an Aussie heroine instead of a US male.
“Stone the crows, Tilly! What the heck is it?” gasped Adelaide, clutching her bosom, such as it was. She took a hasty step back, away from the rather frightening looking creature in the shed that Matilda had just opened for her inspection.
Her friend gazed proudly at her newest creation and absentmindedly rubbed a smear of grease even further across her cheek.
“I call her Blue,” she announced. “She’s a Motor Horse, the first of her kind.”
Adelaide continued to stare in a bewildered fashion at the monstrosity. It looked like nothing she had ever seen before.
“But it’s painted red!” She blurted out the first thing that came into her bemused mind.
Matilda laughed. “Of course she is! That’s why I call her Blue, get it?”
Adelaide smiled weakly. Now that she had studied the creature a bit longer, she supposed she could see some faint resemblance to a horse. It certainly had four legs‒but they were made of metal, each with three joints. They were attached at the top to a complex series of metal plates and drums, encasing what appeared to be a much smaller version of the large engine Adelaide’s father had shipped out from England to use on his farm to pump water from the bore. There was a saddle on the creature’s back and there were two large lamps roughly where the eyes would have been on a real horse.
Matilda patted Blue lovingly on her metal nose. “She’s motorised,” she said. “I’ve discovered kerosene works even better than diesel‒she should move like the wind.” Matilda proceeded to bombard Adelaide with precise technical details, but long experience with her friend’s enthusiasms had already caused Adelaide to tune out. She wasn’t an inventor or even a scientist like her friend, and terms such as “electromagnetic” and “commutator” flew straight over her head.
Eventually, she interrupted mid-stream, “But what does it actually do?”
“It’s a horse. You ride it,” Matilda explained, a trifle impatiently. After all, she had just explained all this. “Like a real horse, but better. Faster.” She bent over Blue’s body to fiddle with something. Two long metal rods suddenly protruded, one on each side, facing forward. Matilda gave a deprecating smile. “And of course, she’s armed.”
“But‒wh-what are you going to shoot?” asked Adelaide, anxiously.
Matilda looked down, avoiding her friend’s gaze. “Oh, probably just targets. Bushes, trees, you know. Maybe a rabbit‒it depends how accurate the weapons are. I haven’t tested them in motion yet.” She moved closer to Blue. “Can you give me a leg up? I’m going to take her for a trial run.”
“Are you sure it’s safe? It looks a bit dodgy to me,” protested Adelaide.
“She’ll be right,” Matilda assured her. “Safe as houses.”
“Hmm,” Adelaide was unconvinced.
“Come on. Get a wriggle on,” urged Matilda, standing with one foot in the stirrup.
Reluctantly, Adelaide gave in and hoisted her friend onto the creature’s back. Instead of reins, there were a couple of large levers and a big key. Matilda turned the key with a flourish, “Righto! Here we go!”
Adelaide screamed faintly and clapped her hands over her ears as the engine roared into life. Smiling through the din, Matilda pulled down on one of the levers and the horse leaped into action. A few seconds and a cloud of dust later, they disappeared across the paddock.
They rode for miles, over paddocks and through scrub, going farther than Matilda had ever been before. The wind blew her hair back from her face and she hung on for dear life, faster and faster. Matilda realised she was grinning with excitement.
Eventually she drew back on the lever, bringing Blue to a halt at the edge of what looked like a large tract of untamed bushland. Time to stop for a swig of lemonade and a bit of tucker. Not to mention a quick trip behind a tree.
Feeling refreshed, she cast a quick look up at the sun which was blazing down from a cloudless blue sky. Perhaps it was time to head home. Matilda looked around for a rock or tree trunk she could use to help mount again. Then she heard voices. Rough men’s voices. Coming from the bushland in front of her, and it sounded as if they were heading in her direction. What could they be doing in the bush? Stockmen searching for stray cattle?
Suddenly uneasy, she clambered awkwardly onto Blue’s back, scrambling to sit astride. She felt much safer up there. She waited for the men to come into sight, her hand poised over the key. She knew the noise from Blue was likely to spook the horses.
A group of three men on horseback came into view, moving steadily in single file through the bush. Then the leader saw her and stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in shock, his beard bristling.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded loudly. The other men stared, too.
“Don’t know what that contraption is, but that’s a damn fine looking sheila on top!” grinned one. Matilda noticed that he had a few teeth missing. She also saw that all three men had handkerchiefs tied around their necks and pistols on their hips. Not stockmen then. Bushrangers.
“Giv’ us a kiss, love, we won’t hurt you,” leered the one who had grinned at her.
“Bugger off!” answered Matilda boldly. “And I won’t hurt you!”
The three men laughed and moved closer.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Matilda chided as she turned the key. As she had guessed, the unexpected roar of Blue’s engine spooked the horses. One of the horses bolted and the other two reared in terror.
“Bloody hell!”
“Crikey!” and other assorted phrases turned the air blue as the riders wrestled to regain control of their mounts.
Quickly, Matilda flipped the switch on Blue’s side to activate the two metal rods she had shown Adelaide. Here was her chance to see if the weapons worked the way she had planned. Crackk! Crackk!
One of the men clapped a disbelieving hand to his shoulder, and Matilda could see the blood bubbling through his fingers. The other had disappeared from sight, knocked right out of his saddle.
Time to go!
Matilda rode Blue forwards, working the levers, trying to turn her in a wide circle. Come on girl, she muttered under her breath. She bit her lip, hoping that none of the men would be able to pull themselves together sufficiently enough to shoot her with their pistols.
She was in luck. The sight of the monster coming towards them was the last straw for the two remaining horses, which bolted in opposite directions. One was dragging its rider on the ground behind, his foot still stuck in the stirrups.
Blue was finally facing in the right direction. Matilda pulled the lever firmly and raced back home. She could hardly wait to tell Adelaide all about her adventure.
Author’s Note: The genre for this story is Edisonades - ever heard of it? I hadn’t until I started research for this piece. Derived from the name of Thomas Edison - it describes a genre of early sci-fi - popular around the end of the 19th century. According to wikipedia - it ‘describes any story which features a young US male inventor hero who uses his ingenuity to extricate himself from tight spots.’ Often involving the exploration of new or remote parts of the world. Taking all this on board, here is my contribution, slightly modified from the original concept, with an Aussie heroine instead of a US male.
“Stone the crows, Tilly! What the heck is it?” gasped Adelaide, clutching her bosom, such as it was. She took a hasty step back, away from the rather frightening looking creature in the shed that Matilda had just opened for her inspection.
Her friend gazed proudly at her newest creation and absentmindedly rubbed a smear of grease even further across her cheek.
“I call her Blue,” she announced. “She’s a Motor Horse, the first of her kind.”
Adelaide continued to stare in a bewildered fashion at the monstrosity. It looked like nothing she had ever seen before.
“But it’s painted red!” She blurted out the first thing that came into her bemused mind.
Matilda laughed. “Of course she is! That’s why I call her Blue, get it?”
Adelaide smiled weakly. Now that she had studied the creature a bit longer, she supposed she could see some faint resemblance to a horse. It certainly had four legs‒but they were made of metal, each with three joints. They were attached at the top to a complex series of metal plates and drums, encasing what appeared to be a much smaller version of the large engine Adelaide’s father had shipped out from England to use on his farm to pump water from the bore. There was a saddle on the creature’s back and there were two large lamps roughly where the eyes would have been on a real horse.
Matilda patted Blue lovingly on her metal nose. “She’s motorised,” she said. “I’ve discovered kerosene works even better than diesel‒she should move like the wind.” Matilda proceeded to bombard Adelaide with precise technical details, but long experience with her friend’s enthusiasms had already caused Adelaide to tune out. She wasn’t an inventor or even a scientist like her friend, and terms such as “electromagnetic” and “commutator” flew straight over her head.
Eventually, she interrupted mid-stream, “But what does it actually do?”
“It’s a horse. You ride it,” Matilda explained, a trifle impatiently. After all, she had just explained all this. “Like a real horse, but better. Faster.” She bent over Blue’s body to fiddle with something. Two long metal rods suddenly protruded, one on each side, facing forward. Matilda gave a deprecating smile. “And of course, she’s armed.”
“But‒wh-what are you going to shoot?” asked Adelaide, anxiously.
Matilda looked down, avoiding her friend’s gaze. “Oh, probably just targets. Bushes, trees, you know. Maybe a rabbit‒it depends how accurate the weapons are. I haven’t tested them in motion yet.” She moved closer to Blue. “Can you give me a leg up? I’m going to take her for a trial run.”
“Are you sure it’s safe? It looks a bit dodgy to me,” protested Adelaide.
“She’ll be right,” Matilda assured her. “Safe as houses.”
“Hmm,” Adelaide was unconvinced.
“Come on. Get a wriggle on,” urged Matilda, standing with one foot in the stirrup.
Reluctantly, Adelaide gave in and hoisted her friend onto the creature’s back. Instead of reins, there were a couple of large levers and a big key. Matilda turned the key with a flourish, “Righto! Here we go!”
Adelaide screamed faintly and clapped her hands over her ears as the engine roared into life. Smiling through the din, Matilda pulled down on one of the levers and the horse leaped into action. A few seconds and a cloud of dust later, they disappeared across the paddock.
They rode for miles, over paddocks and through scrub, going farther than Matilda had ever been before. The wind blew her hair back from her face and she hung on for dear life, faster and faster. Matilda realised she was grinning with excitement.
Eventually she drew back on the lever, bringing Blue to a halt at the edge of what looked like a large tract of untamed bushland. Time to stop for a swig of lemonade and a bit of tucker. Not to mention a quick trip behind a tree.
Feeling refreshed, she cast a quick look up at the sun which was blazing down from a cloudless blue sky. Perhaps it was time to head home. Matilda looked around for a rock or tree trunk she could use to help mount again. Then she heard voices. Rough men’s voices. Coming from the bushland in front of her, and it sounded as if they were heading in her direction. What could they be doing in the bush? Stockmen searching for stray cattle?
Suddenly uneasy, she clambered awkwardly onto Blue’s back, scrambling to sit astride. She felt much safer up there. She waited for the men to come into sight, her hand poised over the key. She knew the noise from Blue was likely to spook the horses.
A group of three men on horseback came into view, moving steadily in single file through the bush. Then the leader saw her and stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in shock, his beard bristling.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded loudly. The other men stared, too.
“Don’t know what that contraption is, but that’s a damn fine looking sheila on top!” grinned one. Matilda noticed that he had a few teeth missing. She also saw that all three men had handkerchiefs tied around their necks and pistols on their hips. Not stockmen then. Bushrangers.
“Giv’ us a kiss, love, we won’t hurt you,” leered the one who had grinned at her.
“Bugger off!” answered Matilda boldly. “And I won’t hurt you!”
The three men laughed and moved closer.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Matilda chided as she turned the key. As she had guessed, the unexpected roar of Blue’s engine spooked the horses. One of the horses bolted and the other two reared in terror.
“Bloody hell!”
“Crikey!” and other assorted phrases turned the air blue as the riders wrestled to regain control of their mounts.
Quickly, Matilda flipped the switch on Blue’s side to activate the two metal rods she had shown Adelaide. Here was her chance to see if the weapons worked the way she had planned. Crackk! Crackk!
One of the men clapped a disbelieving hand to his shoulder, and Matilda could see the blood bubbling through his fingers. The other had disappeared from sight, knocked right out of his saddle.
Time to go!
Matilda rode Blue forwards, working the levers, trying to turn her in a wide circle. Come on girl, she muttered under her breath. She bit her lip, hoping that none of the men would be able to pull themselves together sufficiently enough to shoot her with their pistols.
She was in luck. The sight of the monster coming towards them was the last straw for the two remaining horses, which bolted in opposite directions. One was dragging its rider on the ground behind, his foot still stuck in the stirrups.
Blue was finally facing in the right direction. Matilda pulled the lever firmly and raced back home. She could hardly wait to tell Adelaide all about her adventure.