Walkabout - James Vance Marshall [38]
‘Where? Oh, where?’
Her eagerness was something the Aboriginals could understand.
The black man’s eyes were sympathetic. Gently he took the girl by the hand and led her down to the sand beside the lagoon.
Peter, seeing them talking so earnestly, left the warrigal and came and stood beside his sister.
He saw the black man point first to a valley looping aslant the hills like a tired snake. The black man mimed the climb of the valley: his feet rising, his knees sagging. At the top he indicated that the children should sleep. He lay down on the sand and snored. The gin giggled. Then, with the point of a yacca branch, he traced a line heading east, into the rising sun. After a while the line broke, and with a couple of curves the black man indicated a hill. Then, beyond the hill, the line went on. Soon came another, lower hill; and here, the black man indicated, there was water; he drew a circle, pointed to the lagoon, and lapped like a dog. He also indicated food: yams: he drew them beside the hill and champed his teeth. And here too he indicated sleep: again the lying down, again the snoring. The children nodded. Next day the line continued east, towards another, higher hill. And here, at the base of the hill, it stopped. Ended at a house. The black man drew it: one door; one window; one chimney; one pathway lined with flowers.
The children looked at each other. The gill’s eyes were like the stars of the Southern Cross.
‘Oh, Pete!’
She burst suddenly into tears.
Peter looked at the warrigal and the reeds and the red-gums and the glistening expanse of the lagoon, and knew in that moment that every detail of what he’d seen in the last two weeks he’d remember for the rest of his life. Then he walked slowly across to the fire and collected the last of their bauble nuts. He stood for a moment looking not at the others but up and down the sun-drenched valley; then he went across to the black-fellow man and held out his hand.
‘Good-bye!’ he said very formally.
The black man grinned and he too held out his hand.
Peter turned to the girl.
‘Come on, Mary’, he said. ‘Kurura.’
He led the way along the shore of the lake.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Walkabout
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Foot Notes
CHAPTER THIRTEEN