‘She just looked at me through the peach leaves. I could see those bare feet of hers and I thought what the hell am I doing with a girl like this? Then she smiled at me, and I knew.
‘She took me swimming down in the creek. She showed me an eagle’s nest on a ledge in the cliff. She fed me native cherries in the damp gully above the ferns. It was like she was showing me all the jewels of her world.
‘It wasn’t easy though. I knew I loved her. I thought she’d come and live with me. We’d have a house in town with running water, a shower maybe, it was all the go to have a shower then, and gas lights, with dahlias and petunias out the front.
‘She said she’d marry me, but I’d have to do something for her first. I’d have to walk the boundaries of this place. When I did that . . . well . . . she said she’d go anywhere I asked.
‘I thought she was crazy. I thought her ma was crazy too. But I said I would and I set out, just like you did yesterday morning.’
There was a pause. The fire crackled in the stove. Dracula began to snore. Ted looked at her. ‘How big will that thing grow, anyway?’
‘I’m not sure,’ admitted Martin. ‘About as tall as you, maybe. What happened, Ted? Who did you meet?’
‘Her gran, Old Mavis, when she was my age, or just about, when she’d been with the bullong a year or two, and they made her walk as well. And a bloke from way back when. He was walking the boundaries too. That’s who you meet when you go walking, people on the same task as you. He was a Kurajai, medicine man, student, magician, priest, don’t know what you’d call him. He could make it rain by rubbing eagle feathers. But they taught me things, those two. They still do.’
‘You mean you still see them?’
‘Every year,’ said Ted. ‘The three of us, we walk the boundaries every year.’
Martin nodded. ‘So I’ll see them both again?’
‘You will,’ said Ted. ‘Whenever you need them, they’ll be there. You’ll meet some others too. Don’t ask me who. The past and the future are different for all of us, as well as the same. But you’ll meet Meg again, and Wullamudulla, and others of us too. We’ve been walking the boundaries of this place for tens of thousands of years now. Now there’ll be you as well — and there’ll be people after you.’ Ted walked back to the roast and began to serve out the potatoes. The snoring stopped as Dracula smelt the simmering gravy. She lumbered to her feet and bumped at Ted’s knees.
‘We’ll have to teach you table manners,’ said Ted. He put a heaped plate down by the stove. ‘There you are, beastie. Spuds and pumpkin and carrots, and you can have a cabbage for your pud. No, you’re not getting any gravy so get your nose out of it. It’d give you indigestion. Go on, get stuck into it before you break my knees.’ Ted put the other plates on the table. ‘How come she followed you, anyway?’
Martin began to eat. He was starving. ‘I don’t know. Maybe . . . well, Wullamudulla and Meg and me, we were following our boundaries. I suppose Dracula was following hers as well. But I guess Dracula doesn’t understand about time. I think she’s still a baby. Maybe she thinks this is still her territory too.’
‘Yeah. With two nice servants to get her food.’ Ted slipped another roast potato onto Dracula’s plate. ‘I reckon she’s got it made. What’s your mum going to say when you land home with a — what did you say it was? A baby diprotodon? And what about Dracula? She may not want to leave here.’
‘I guess she won’t,’ said Martin. He took another bite of pumpkin. ‘Can she stay here, Ted? Please?’
Ted shrugged. ‘Of course she can stay. Haven’t you learnt that yet? This isn’t my place . . . or yours . . . or Meg’s . . . or no more my place than Dracula’s. I just look after it. That’s what we are, we humans — caretakers.’
‘I know,’ said Martin. ‘Your place, my place, Meg’s, Wullamudulla’s, Dracula’s, that owl outside’s, the wombat’s. No one of us has any more right to it than any other one.’
Ted nodded. ‘You do understand,’ he said softly. ‘It’s nothing much I’m offering you, boy. You thought you’d be able to sell this place, didn’t you? Buy boats and cars and DVDs galore. Well, you can’t. Not now. You’ll spend your life looking after this place, like I have. And you won’t be sorry.’
Martin shook his head. His eyes met Ted’s. ‘I won’t be sorry. I’m part of this place now. I’ll have to learn, though. Will you teach me, Ted? About this place? About how to keep it safe?’
‘I’ll teach you,’ said Ted. ‘I reckon you’ll have to ask other people too, though. You’ll need to go to uni and study. It’s all more complicated than when Meg and I were young. You need to know so much now to protect a bit of land. You need to know the law, and soil management. They call it habitat preservation now. Ecology. It’s still the same.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘You’ll have other help too. Your friends. Wullamudulla. Meg. When you wonder what to do, you ask them. They’ll show you other ways of looking at things.’ He nodded slowly. ‘You just ask Meg. She’ll tell you what to do.’
‘She’s bossy,’ admitted Martin.
‘She always was,’ said Ted.
‘Ted . . . would you like me to say hello . . . from you . . . when I see her again?’
Ted smiled. ‘You can’t,’ he said simply. ‘Hello from whom? She hasn’t met me yet. She won’t till she’s grown-up. She doesn’t even know I might exist.’
Martin went back to his meat. He remembered the brown face in the firelight, the tangle of red hair . . . ‘He’ll come riding down the track and I’ll see him through the branches. I’ll see the way he looks at the valley, and I’ll know this is where he needs to be . . .’
What would he tell her? About Ted? About her son, dying far away in another people’s war? About her grandson, exiled from his land, a stranger in Adelaide who’d never known the bush?
About her great-grandson who’d come to love it?
Meg knew. Ted was right. There was no need to tell her.
Dracula snuffled under the table, looking for more crumbs. Somewhere an owl hooted. Martin wondered if it was the same owl who’d called the first night he was here, a descendant perhaps of the one who’d cried out last night.
He thought of all the animals of the valley and its hills, thousands of years of them, with thousands of years in the future too.
What was in the future then? He suddenly remembered the shimmering figure somewhere down the track. His son? His grandson? His great-great-great-great-granddaughter? Perhaps one day he’d find out.
He’d learn to look after this place first. He’d have to learn about it, things you couldn’t learn in just two days.
Perhaps that was what he could do with this place — use it to teach other kids about the land they’d lost, about the land that they could have if they too made a commitment. He could show them how to walk their boundaries. He, his friends — Meg and Wullamudulla — and Ted, and Ted’s friends — Mavis and the Kurajai man.
Suddenly he realised that there were other friends too — Dracula and Big Bernie, the owl, the roos up on the hill — they would teach him too, how to live with the land, how to take and not destroy, how to give back and never take too much.
Friends and teachers don’t have to be human. Boundaries aren’t always lines drawn on a map.
‘Tired?’ asked Ted.
Martin nodded. ‘Almost asleep.’
‘Bed then. There’s always tomorrow. We’ll start planning tomorrow.’
Martin nodded again. Plans for a thousand years. His head felt light. The kitchen was too bright. It was as though the light was shining in the gorge again, the golden fuzzy light, the light that linked him to his friends, a hundred thousand years of friends, yesterdays and tomorrows, the valley and its hills, and all the land beyond — a friendship that took in all the world, for all the time there was.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Dracula is partially based on Zygomaturus trilobus, a giant prehistoric marsupial of the super family Diprotodontoidae. Her ‘geek’, however, is t
he noise modern wombats make to attract your attention. Martin, Meg and Wullamudulla travelled back to somewhere around the transitional period between the Pleistocene and the Pliocene, when south-eastern Australia was becoming colder and dryer, but still, at the time of the story, probably wetter and warmer than it is now.
Zygomaturus may in fact have had horns like a rhinoceros, but as there were many similar diprotodontoids, including the short-trunked Palorchestes azael and the giant Diprotodon opatum, something like the Dracula of Walking the Boundaries may well have existed.
I have tried to use the local Aboriginal language, rather than one from a foreign area. This was difficult, as not many words were recorded and some of the evidence is contradictory. In some places I have had to use words from different local tribes. I hope that Wullamudulla at least would understand what I’ve had him say, and forgive my mistakes.
As a final note — if you’re ever attacked by a giant prehistoric python, don’t attempt to swim away from it like Meg, Wullamudulla and Martin tried to do. They were probably semiaquatic.
No character in this book is based in any way on any person, living or dead. How much of the story, and the gorge and hills, is real, I leave to you to judge.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JACKIE FRENCH is an award-winning writer, wombat negotiator, the Australian Children’s Laureate for 2014–2015 and the 2015 Senior Australian of the Year. She is regarded as one of Australia’s most popular children’s authors and writes across all genres — from picture books, history, fantasy, ecology and sci-fi to her much loved historical fiction. ‘Share a Story’ is the primary philosophy behind Jackie’s two-year term as Laureate.
You can visit Jackie’s website at: www.jackiefrench.com.au
SELECTED AWARDS
Pennies for Hitler
•Honour Book, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Younger Readers), 2013
•Winner, NSW Premier’s History Award (Young People’s History Prize), 2013
•Shortlisted, Queensland Literary Awards (Children’s Book), 2013
Nanberry: Black Brother White
•Honour Book, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Older Readers), 2012
A Waltz for Matilda
•Notable Book, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Older Readers), 2011
The Night They Stormed Eureka
•Winner, NSW Premier’s History Award (Young People’s History Prize), 2011
The Donkey Who Carried the Wounded
•Notable Book, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Younger Readers), 2010
A Rose for the Anzac Boys
•Honour Book, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Older Readers), 2009
The Goat Who Sailed the World
•Notable Book, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Younger Readers), 2007
•Shortlisted, Fiction for Older Readers, Young Australian’s Best Book Award (YABBA)
•Shortlisted, Koala Awards, 2008
•Shortlisted, Croc Awards, 2008
•Shortlisted, Cool Awards, 2008
Hitler’s Daughter
•Winner, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Younger Readers), 2001
•WOW! Award Winner, UK National Literacy Association, 2001
•Notable Book, US Library Association
•Koala Awards Roll of Honour, 2007 and 2008
•Semi-Grand Prix Award, Japan
Pharaoh
•Shortlisted, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Older Readers), 2008
•Shortlisted, ACT Book of the Year (competing with general adult titles), 2008
Macbeth and Son
•Shortlisted, CBC Awards Book of the Year (Older Readers), 2007
ALSO BY JACKIE FRENCH
Historical
Somewhere Around the Corner • Dancing with Ben Hall
Soldier on the Hill • Daughter of the Regiment
Hitler’s Daughter • Lady Dance • The White Ship
How the Finnegans Saved the Ship • Valley of Gold • Tom Appleby, Convict Boy
They Came on Viking Ships • Macbeth and Son
Pharaoh • A Rose for the Anzac Boys
Oracle • The Night They Stormed Eureka
Nanberry: Black Brother White • Pennies for Hitler
I am Juliet • Ophelia: Queen of Denmark
The Animal Stars Series
1. The Goat Who Sailed the World
2. The Dog Who Loved a Queen
3. The Camel Who Crossed Australia
4. The Donkey Who Carried the Wounded
5. The Horse Who Bit a Bushranger
6. Dingo: The Dog who Conquered a Continent
The Matilda Saga
1. A Waltz for Matilda • 2. The Girl from Snowy River
3. The Road to Gundagai • 4. To Love a Sunburnt Country
5. The Ghost by the Billabong
Fiction
Rain Stones • The Secret Beach
Summerland • Beyond the Boundaries
A Wombat Named Bosco • The Book of Unicorns
The Warrior: The Story of a Wombat
Tajore Arkle • Missing You, Love Sara • Dark Wind Blowing
Ride the Wild Wind: The Golden Pony and Other Stories • Refuge
The Book of Horses and Unicorns
Non-fiction
Seasons of Content • How the Aliens from Alpha Centauri Invaded My Maths Class and Turned Me into a Writer
How to Guzzle Your Garden • The Book of Challenges • Stamp, Stomp, Whomp
The Fascinating History of Your Lunch • Big Burps, Bare Bums and Other Bad-Mannered Blunders
To the Moon and Back • Rocket Your Child into Reading
The Secret World of Wombats • How High Can a Kangaroo Hop? • A Year in the Valley
Let the Land Speak: How the Land Created Our Nation • I Spy a Great Reader
The Secret Histories Series
Birrung the Secret Friend • Barney and the Secret of the Whales
Outlands Trilogy
In the Blood • Blood Moon • Flesh and Blood
School for Heroes
Lessons for a Werewolf Warrior • Dance of the Deadly Dinosaurs
Wacky Families Series
1. My Dog the Dinosaur • 2. My Mum the Pirate
3. My Dad the Dragon • 4. My Uncle Gus the Garden Gnome
5. My Uncle Wal the Werewolf • 6. My Gran the Gorilla
7. My Auntie Chook the Vampire Chicken • 8. My Pa the Polar Bear
Phredde Series
1. A Phaery Named Phredde
2. Phredde and a Frog Named Bruce
3. Phredde and the Zombie Librarian
4. Phredde and the Temple of Gloom
5. Phredde and the Leopard-Skin Librarian
6. Phredde and the Purple Pyramid
7. Phredde and the Vampire Footy Team
8. Phredde and the Ghostly Underpants
Picture Books
Diary of a Wombat (with Bruce Whatley)
Pete the Sheep (with Bruce Whatley)
Josephine Wants to Dance (with Bruce Whatley)
The Shaggy Gully Times (with Bruce Whatley)
Emily and the Big Bad Bunyip (with Bruce Whatley)
Baby Wombat’s Week (with Bruce Whatley)
Queen Victoria’s Underpants (with Bruce Whatley)
The Tomorrow Book (with Sue deGennaro)
Christmas Wombat (with Bruce Whatley)
A Day to Remember (with Mark Wilson)
Queen Victoria’s Christmas (with Bruce Whatley)
Wombat Goes to School (with Bruce Whatley)
Dinosaurs Love Cheese (with Nina Rycroft)
The Hairy-Nosed Wombats Find a New Home (with Sue deGennaro)
Good Dog Hank (with Nina Rycroft)
The Beach They Called Gallipoli (with Bruce Whatley)
Wombat Wins (with Bruce Whatley)
Grandma Wombat (with Bruce Whatley)
COPYRIGHT
The author gratefully acknowledges the assistance of the Literature Board of the Australia Council.
Angus&Robertson
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in 1993
This edition published in 2016
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Jackie French 1993
The rights of Jackie French and Bronwyn Bancroft to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work have been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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195 Broadway, New York NY 10007, USA
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
French, Jackie
Walking the boundaries.
ISBN 978 1 7430 9530 0 (ebook)
For children aged 8–12 years.
1. Identity (Psychology) – Juvenile fiction. 2. Space and time – Juvenile fiction. 3. Ethnicity – Juvenile fiction. 4. Wildlife conservation – Juvenile fiction. I. Title.
A823.3
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