Loreless: A Novel

by P J Whittlesea

  Eventually all the men dismounted. There must have been about ten of them. To my surprise I recognised some them to be from another tribe. They looked very different wearing the invaders coverings. They were all dressed in the uniform of their lawmen. They participated heartily in what was going on and didn't seem to show any remorse for their actions. I can only assume they were from a distant tribe. We had heard that from the place where the sun rose there were many like them. Warriors who would kill just for the fun of it; but also those who did it to protect their own people from suffering the same fate we were experiencing.

  The camp had now become relatively silent. Then I heard the crying of a baby. I saw one of the men searching through the bodies and from among them he pulled out the child. He held it aloft by its legs and the other men broke out in laughter. I saw the man swing the baby over his shoulder and forward towards the ground. I closed my eyes, clenching my eyebrows inwards until the taut skin on the sides of my head hurt. I wanted to fold myself inwards and disappear. I heard a loud thump, and then another. The baby stopped crying. My heart pounded so hard I thought they would be able to hear it. I tried to calm myself by breathing slowly. I felt sick in my stomach and this feeling stayed with me for some time. I opened my eyes and looked down at my cousin. He saw the fear in my eyes and wriggled further down under the rock. I laid my hand softly on the sand over his body. It felt warm and helped me to relax somewhat.

  I heard screaming and peered through the hole again. The men had gathered around my two mothers who had been holding each other. They seemed glued to spot. I was wishing they would run but they seemed incapable of doing anything, such was their fear. I couldn't see what was happening anymore as all the men surrounded them. In some way this was good, as I felt unable to absorb even the things I had already seen. For a long time the men were huddled over my mothers. I heard screaming and this continued for some time, before it suddenly stopped. The men then spread out but I could no longer see the women. After this the men seemed to be congratulating one another and took small containers out of their saddlebags and drank from them. Later they took large sacks from the horses and splashed some kind of liquid over the entire campsite. They then mounted their horses again. It seemed that one of them was in charge. Before they left this man lit a stick with fire and cast it onto the bodies. Flame erupted immediately from the ground and spread quickly across the campsite. I had never seen fire do this before. I now know this magic liquid is called kerosene. The man watched the flames for a short period and then motioned to his companions. They turned their horses and rode away from the campsite. I was thankful they had chosen to ride away from our hiding place as I was sure we would have been discovered otherwise.

  I did not know the area where we camped very well as we were not normally allowed there. It was a sacred area for my mother and her sisters. Initiated men were not allowed there. Even so, I knew that eventually we would be missed and they would come looking for us. I decided to wait for my brother and father to return with the other men. There was not much else I could do. Somewhere among the bodies lay my own mother. I wanted to go to her and my sister but the fire burned with such ferocity that I didn't dare go near it. I could feel the heat of it from where I sat. I also feared that the men would return. We stayed where we were and I remained vigilant for the sound of horses' hoofs. I watched the fire burn. Sometimes the wind blew the smoke in our direction. We then had to cover our noses and mouths. It carried such a pungent odour. The day was ending when it finally went out by itself. My cousin and I stayed huddled together by the rock. That night it was very cold but we didn't dare make a fire or go look for water. We just held each other for warmth. I cannot recall that we even spoke to one another. Such was our shock. That day we learnt a new word—war.

  The following morning we were found.

  13

  The Law

  The Punishment

  Doug had invited Billy along but warned him that under normal circumstances only initiated men would be allowed to be present. He had told Billy to remain silent and keep out of the way. He explained that he thought it important that Billy see what was going on. They slowly climbed the track leading up to the waterhole in the foothills behind the community.

  'We've had a long discussion about how we should deal with this,' he said. 'This is not the sort of behaviour we accept around here. Usually we would banish Rob from the camp, but we we're afraid that it would push him down the wrong path. Banishment is the ultimate punishment. In the past being exiled from your family was the equivalent of a death sentence.'

  Billy listened but his mind was wandering. They were heading up to where he had seen Pidgin, and the images that had played out in his head still haunted him. He had returned to the community expecting to have a relaxing time but nothing could have been farther from the truth. The environment was far harsher than he had expected. Billy tried to focus on what Doug was saying. They were nearly at the entrance to the rockhole and were both panting from the heat and the exertion of the climb.

  'He will still have to spend some time away from the camp and we will take him out into the desert for a while until he recovers. He will not be alone. It is important that he realises how crucial upholding the law is.'

  Billy wondered what Rob would have to recover from, but as they reached the clearing next to the rockhole it soon became apparent that it was going to involve a good deal of pain.

  In the cool shadows near the water’s edge four men stood, all brandishing spears. The spears were about two metres long with wickedly jagged barbs at their pointed ends. Billy hadn't seen the men before. They seemed oblivious to his presence and focussed their attention on Doug. Doug motioned Billy to stay where he was before walking over to the small group of men. In low murmurs they acknowledged each other and discussed their next move. Abruptly they stopped talking and turned towards a sheer cliff face at the far end of the enclosure. Billy followed their gaze.

  There Rob stood, alone. He was slightly bent over and cowering on the rocks, up against the cliff wall. He didn't move and his breathing was barely perceptible. He looked for all the world like a disobedient child who had been told to stand in the corner. Fear clouded his expression. It was clear that he was willing to accept his punishment but he was also aware of what it involved. It wasn't going to kill him but it was certainly going to hurt. He became aware that all attention had shifted to him and drew himself up to his full height. He flattened his back to the wall behind him and splayed out his hands to either side. Billy watched Rob's knuckles turn white as he gripped the rocks behind him. He dug his fingernails into the wall. He raised his head, gritted his teeth and bravely faced his accusers. The look of fear on his face melted away and an uneasy calm came over him. He didn't seem to notice Billy, or anyone else for that matter. His stare was fixed onto some point far in the distance.

  For a moment nobody moved. It formed a strange tableau. Rob exposed and plastered to the wall, the men in a line with spears raised, and Billy standing solitary to one side. Then, as if on cue, one by one the men threw their spears. They kept their aim low. It was clear that they only wanted to strike his legs and didn't want to maim him permanently, although from his stance there was a good chance he could sacrifice his manhood. Rob grimaced in anticipation as each spear flew towards him. The spears flew past his legs, clattered off the cliff face, and fell harmlessly at his feet. Not one of them found their target.

  Finally Doug stepped forward. He crouched low, stretched his arm back as far as it would it extend and threw his spear with all the force he could muster. For such a bulky man he moved with incredible agility. Billy had only ever seen him quietly seated or moving with slow deliberation. He was surprised to see him suddenly so active. The spear found its target. It buried itself deep into Rob's thigh, halfway between his knee and his crotch. He let out a high pitched scream and slumped to the ground, sliding along the cliff face as he went down. The spear remained lodged in his leg. The shaft slapped the ro
cks at his feet as Rob collapsed.

  There was a short period of silence. Nobody moved and Rob appeared to have passed out. The men nodded to each other before walking over to where Rob lay and standing over his prostrate body. Doug knelt beside him and closely examined his leg. He beckoned to the other men to help and together they picked up Rob and laid him out on his side and away from the cliff face. One of the men supported the spear. It had passed a good way through Rob's leg and the sight turned Billy's stomach. Doug indicated for the others to hold Rob down and then gripped the spear by its barbed end with both hands. He twisted it violently and wrenched it out. Rob's body twitched and the men tightened their grip on him. Doug had to thread almost the entire length of the shaft through the leg. It was clear the barbs would not pass through in reverse. He grunted as he worked. Close to the end he gave it one last yank and pulled it free. He nearly toppled over backwards in the process. One of the other men caught him before he fell.

  Reverently they rolled Rob's body onto his back and stood aside.

  Doug gingerly massaged own his lower back and quipped, 'Think I might've overdone it a bit.'

  One of the other men shook his head. 'Gettin' old, mate?'

  He then made a joke about hooking a small fish and that they should throw it back. There was a pregnant pause before they all burst spontaneously into laughter. The mood lightened significantly. Chuckling, Doug turned and walked across to Billy.

  'Ok, show's over. Let's go. I could use a cuppa tea.'

  Together they walked across the rocks. Billy looked back over his shoulder and saw that the men were preparing to treat Rob's wounds. They had a wooden dish and appeared to be mixing some sort of paste in it. Billy wanted to stay and watch but Doug continued to lead him away and beckoned him to follow.

  Billy walked behind Doug to the exit of the natural amphitheatre. He noted that his entire back was coated in flies. As they entered the narrow passageway the wind began to whistle around his ears. He could have sworn it carried the sound of someone calling his name but he didn't dare look around. He focussed solely on the flies crawling across Doug's t-shirt.

  Black and White

  Aboriginal. Aborigine. Billy thought about the words. He wasn't sure which one was correct. It didn't matter. Neither of them was correct. Either way it was a word; it was about a thing. It described something but it wasn't human. It made it seem as if the people were just an object, not something that lived and breathed. It was belittling, another instrument to downplay their significance. It was an old word, antiquated and from another time. Every nation and culture in the world had their own dedicated name. An Englishman was an Englishman, a German was a German. Why was it that these people weren't given the same respect? Why not just call them what they were? They were all from different tribes, the Pitjantjatjara, Arrernte, Yankunytjatjara and so forth. So they should be named as such. But what was he? He needed to find that out, but how? He knew very little about his mother, only that her tribe had been dispersed, the language and culture lost. All of it systematically destroyed and wiped from the face of the planet. It was extinct. But animals that were considered extinct have sometimes re-emerged. There were still sightings of the Tasmanian tiger. So there was some hope. He knew in himself that he was something, only it didn't have a name. At the very least, maybe the people of the community would accept him and then he would know what to call himself.

  It seemed that balance was necessary. The old and the new needed to be combined, the traditions adapted. That was the way forward. Without balance change could not occur. It wasn't only about mutual respect. It went far beyond that. It was respect for yourself. Only then could you give it to someone else. The land is the mother and we are her babies. He missed his mother. He regretted not knowing her. It had been beyond his control, though. He would find another mother. She could substitute for the thing he most needed. He had been seeking love through marriage but it hadn't worked. It would never work if he didn't learn how to give it first. First he needed to train himself. How was he going to do that? He could go to Doris; he could ask Doug. In the end, though, they could only help so much. It was up to him to make the real changes.

  He didn't agree with the brutal punishment, but he didn't agree with the crime either. They were both vicious in their own ways. There were courts for that sort of thing. Which court was he in?

  All the thoughts running through his head made him dizzy. After leaving the confines of the rockhole, Billy had told Doug that he would catch up with him later. He said he needed time to think. Doug had joked that he'd better not take too long or his tea would get cold. Billy had laughed along with him but wasn't at all in a joking mood. He had wandered out of the crevice leading to the rockhole and moved along a ridge. He felt drained and found a spot to sit on a small hillock overlooking the town. He could see a line of mountains about fifty kilometres away. In his raised position he again had the impression that he was sitting on the edge of a river. A very wide river, with the ranges in the distance forming the opposite bank. It struck him how old the land was. How it must have changed over time. He stared at the ranges and the sun seemed to sit on top of them. It wouldn't be long before it set completely behind them. Involuntarily he shook, and a shiver ran down his spine. The air had cooled dramatically without the sun to keep it warm.

  He looked down at his feet and spotted a digital wristwatch lying in the sand. Its display was blinking and apart from some weathering it appeared to be in perfect working order. The display read: 17:30 27-8-93. The time and date seemed insignificant now. The watch was just a piece of plastic and not really worth a thing. Nor was time for that matter. He stood up and threw it as far as he could. It clattered on the rocks below. One day in the future someone else would find it. As worthless as it was. In all probability it would still be working; or maybe the sun would have damage it beyond recognition. At any rate, it was of no consequence. Time was of no consequence. He felt released from its constraints. Even the land was timeless. Although it was ancient, it was new to him. The shackles had dropped. He was free.

  Billy sensed that he had found his home. During the short time he had spent in the little community he had experienced things which both shocked and challenged him. For the first time in his life he didn't feel alone. He felt part of a family, with people who understood and supported him. He had found a purpose. He now had a history and a past, even though not all the history was personally his own.

  Doug's words rang loud in his ears: 'The culture must not die.'

  The culture, the lore, the history, and all the stories could not just be recorded and filed away. It had to live on in the people. It had to be exercised for it to remain healthy and grow in strength. It had to live in him and others if it was ever to survive. There was so much he didn't know, so much he still had to learn. His real education had just begun. Once he had mastered it to some degree he should take this knowledge and pass it on. There were no real mysteries or secrets; they were there for everyone. The only criterion was respect. Respect for what he had learned; that it was a gift, and in turn he could give this wonderful gift to others. It would take him some time to fully understand the nature of what he had received, but for now he knew that it was incredibly valuable. Not something physical; not material and to be selfishly harboured, like the possessions he had owned in the world he had recently left behind.

  The land, the people and the law—all were tied together. One could not exist without the others. They were firmly linked, inseparable yet fragile. It was also up to him to protect, enforce and uphold them. He felt honoured that he had been allowed to become part of it. Not only that: it had also truly become part of him. He had something.

  He thought back to the night at the roadhouse and his first meeting with Pidgin. His time had come; a door had opened for him that he never knew existed. It had set him on his present path, and for that he felt eternally thankful.

  He sat and stared at the setting sun. It was glowing red on the horizon. The
sky slowly changing from pink to purple. Doug had said it was the most hazardous time of the day. There were dangers out there and they could be approaching right now. Only now he had no fear. He had the strength and would bravely face whatever was to come.

  Exhaustion suddenly swept over him. He gave in to it and let his body go limp. All apprehension melted away. He had some answers; not all of them, but it was a good start. He was relieved.

  Pidgin stood silently behind Billy. His shadow stretched out in an infinite, long line behind him. It flowed out like an endless, great inland river. He lifted one hand from his club and lowered it towards Billy's shoulder. He squeezed it in a fatherly gesture. Pidgin's shadow swept forward. It enveloped Billy, who had one last glimpse of the setting sun before darkness engulfed the land. Then everything went black.

  14

  Epilogue, 1843

  My familiar has appeared to me in a dream. He has shown me a great many things. I saw my people torn apart and virtually disintegrated. An alien and incredibly advanced tribe will take over our land. They will drive us from it and in so doing also drive us from our way of life. Some of us will go willingly, enticed by the things they offer. They will come with demons which will carve up the earth. They will bring black rain which will destroy our country and make it infertile. They will move and remove the waters so that we can no longer survive through the dry times. Many of our totems will suffer and some will cease to exist. Maybe my own totem, Katararrtji, the spinifex pigeon, will be one of them. They will clear the land of all vegetation and introduce their own totems. This will stop the rains.