The Undying. Mudrooroo
he tasted the blood of his first life today and it caused a fever. The spirit of an animal awakened in him, one that likes the taste of blood,’ he replied, then shrugged again, dismissing me from his mind.
They sat in silence for a time, then Waai got up, gestured and went off into the darkness beyond the camp. Jangamuttuk ignored his departure for a while, before he too got to his feet. ‘That Crowman needs an Eagleman with sharp eyes to lead him back to camp. Without me, he’ll be lost in the darkness,’ he said, and followed after Waai.
They had not returned by the time sleep claimed us, nor had they returned when I rose with the sun. The others went off to hunt with the local men while I decided to go to the beach and see how Wadawaka was doing. Over the few days on the land, our hunting had been very successful. We enjoyed ranging far and wide after the confines of the vessel and any fears we might have had of being in a strange place had been lessened by our connecting with the local mob who joined us in the hunt. We had supplied Wadawaka with a plentiful supply of meat to salt and pack away in barrels.
I found him hard at work, hammering on the lid of a cask. He finished this before acknowledging my presence. I looked away from his glance, for he had been left alone to do most of the necessary work, but this did not seem to perturb him overmuch as he merely commented, ‘Ceremonies and dances might be all right when we have time, but to go on this is as important. There will come a time when we can’t land and replenish our supplies. Ahead of us, there is this long stretch of coastline; it extends on and on with few landing places. The cliffs fall sheer into the ocean and beyond the land is bare and dry. No rivers flow into the sea and at one place where we shall land, we shall find sand dunes. Beyond them, within the bowels of the earth, is water, but that place is dangerous and we may be able to avoid it. If not, so be it, for on voyages there are many perils which must be overcome. There are many stories of Sinbad, Ulysses and others who did as we do.’
‘Tell me some of these stories,’ I demanded, thinking that he might know some of these voyagers, and also I was curious about how he could know what lay ahead. Had he voyaged along this coast before, perhaps with that Sinbad? He merely grunted as he returned to his work. I handed him the lid to another cask.
‘Must get water aboard next, though we soon shall have another chance to replenish our supply,’ he said. ‘There is coming towards us a ship that will prove both dangerous and profitable to us. It is loaded with supplies which we need. There may be other ships coming this way too and it is best that we leave this place before they arrive. They see this schooner here and they come to find out who we are, for they claim all this land as theirs now. And it will not go well for us when they find black folk in command of a vessel. They feel that only they have the right to sail the seas and not us blackfellows. It will go hard with us too when they find out that the schooner is stolen. It will not be a flogging matter, but a hanging one.’
‘You have been with them a long time and know their ways, but how do you know them now and in the future?’ I demanded again. ‘These local blackfellows could not have told you. They know nothing about the ghosts sailing along their shores. You have not seen the ghosts either, for we have not seen another ship since we sailed, and even though Father mentioned something he saw he often sees things that are not there. It’s all gammon,’ I ended querulously. I did not like the fact that my father and mother and now my friend Wadawaka had secrets I was not privy to.
Again he did not answer. Instead he busied himself with carrying a cask to the dinghy. I picked one up and helped him; I even rowed the laden boat to the schooner. As I leant on the oars, he suddenly asked me, ‘What three exists where three are not?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied gruffly, for I was in a huff and annoyed at him.
‘Well, I’ll give you an answer to the riddle. It’s like this,’ he replied, ignoring my petulance. ‘Ceremonies exist where there are workers; but ceremonies cannot exist when there is no one to prepare the ground. That’s the first one, and from my land too. The second one is that grass exists where there are no animals to eat the grass; but there are no animals where there is no grass. And the last one is,’ he concluded, ‘water exists where there is no thing to drink it; but no thing can exist where no water is.’
‘And what does this mean?’ I asked, somewhat exasperated at his way of talking which was similar to how my father answered when he did not want to give a straight reply to one of my questions.
‘Well, it means that if you get down and do your bit, you’ll end up with something,’ he replied with a shrug, as if to say anyone with a little common sense could see this.
I shipped my oars deftly and swung the dinghy against the side of the vessel. Wadawaka caught a trailing rope and made her fast. He passed the casks up to me on deck, then came aboard to stow them carefully below. As he did so, he seemed to hesitate and suddenly made a sign. ‘There, that should fix them,’ he muttered, then went on, ‘Flowing water and darkness, the smell of earth and the creaking of timbers – what does it mean?’ He said this to himself and I did not bother to answer him. I had had enough of riddles. We came up on deck and he secured the hatch covering, then loaded the dinghy with the empty water kegs. ‘Far too few, but on the way we can pick up some more from that vessel travelling with a mist of doom about her.’
When the half-dozen water kegs were unloaded, we rested and Wadawaka, deeply troubled about something, again went on in riddles. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘once, in my mother’s country, there lived in a cave a woman who knew the future and could control the weather. She dressed all in blue cloth and lived only on castor oil from a plant with spiky fruit, one which I have not found down here. It is a medicine for the stomach when it is blocked up. Well, the women in the village took care of her, collected the seeds, pounded them, cooked them and took them to her cave. She was married – at least this is what was told to me by my mother – married to a big snake, a python, who lived in the forest and slithered to her cave at night. That snake entered into her and spoke to her in the dream state. That’s how that woman knew everything and could bring the rain or stop it if she desired. She was what is called a witch, a mangu, but one night a flame appeared on the hilltop above her cave. It was a leopard with some powers of his own. He waited until that snake entered that woman and, when he did so, Leopard bounded down and swallowed them both up. Now Leopard, he had that woman in his belly and she had that snake in her belly. He was one in three. There were those two in him. Now he could dream the future from that snake and control the rain from that woman. That’s how my mother told me it was, though I don’t know about Leopard controlling the rain, but he can dream the future when he puts his mind to it and lets that snake come through to him.’
I nodded as if I understood and Wadawaka smiled sardonically. ‘Come on, enough of stories, there are those kegs to fill.’
The spring was up from the beach and a short distance from the head of the track. We lugged the kegs up. It was a hard scramble in parts and we were tuckered out by the time we had them there. As we rested before filling them, I told Wadawaka about the previous night’s ceremony and proudly described my part in it. ‘And you know what,’ I told him excitedly, ‘that mob of blackfellows are going to put on one of theirs over the next few nights. Father’s very excited and last night he went off with that Crow and hasn’t returned yet. I wanted to go with them, but it’s secret business they’re about. I hope that I get to take part in it.’
‘Yes, it will prove helpful to us during our voyage. Your father is the singer of songs and the performer of ceremonies. He knows much that is valuable, but not at this moment for there is the material as well as the spiritual and so let us finish off these barrels, eh? When the job is done, the singing and dancing begins in good heart, eh?’
We exchanged smiles and put our backs into our work. I tried to think over what Wadawaka had said, but felt too puzzled to continue. It was easier to do the work and get it over with so that we could corroboree.
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