Friday, 24 May 2013

Chapter 5 BILLY'S SPECIAL BISCUITS

FOUR SMALL STONES (Urban Hunters book 1)
Chapter 5- BILLY'S SPECIAL BISCUITS




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The kookaburra’s dawn chorus woke Billy early. He checked the weather — perfect, he mused, nice and sunny. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know what it was doing, he could feel the heat of the sun reflecting off the ground outside his humpy already, and the air was dry. There was no breeze either so he didn’t think a change was likely. It was a no brainer really, the weather had been the same for weeks.

He got up quickly and started baking his biscuits. He’d already ground his Bramble wattle seeds into flour the night before so all he had to do was add water and any other ingredients that took his fancy, like dried fruit and nuts. This morning, he added the little white bump from the base of the Cotton Tree Hibiscus flower for effect, before placing the dough in his oven. Ordinarily, all he used was a hot rock if he could find one, or the bare coals if necessary, but he was well organised in their summertime campsite with a good selection of flat rocks. He used one for the bottom and another on top, with stones for pillars to hold up the roof. He built a fire under the oven so the flames rose all around the rocks, and when they died down to just embers, he used a branch to sweep out his oven where he placed his biscuit sized balls of dough. He liked his oven. He hummed a happy tune to himself while he watched his biscuits cook.

The sweet smell and crackling fire woke his slow–to–rise brothers who eventually opened their bleary eyes to see what he was cooking. He was often up early so this was nothing unusual.

“Whatcha makin’?” Pindaari yawned through a luxurious stretch.

“Biscuits. Nearly ready,” Billy said.

“Good, I’m starving,” Pindaari declared while staring sleepily into the embers.

“What makes ya think you’re getting one, mongrel?”

“‘Cause there’s six of them,” Pindaari grinned.

Billy grinned too, he knew now that no matter what, Pindaari would make sure he got one.

Burnam tried to hide his smile while he put on a pot of tea. Mrs Windsor had given him the sterling silver teapot before he left for the bush — to remember her by. They had often shared a pot of tea over an English lesson where he admired her teapots. She had a collection of them — something for her to remember the mother country by. It did look out of place in their campsite, especially with its frilly tea cosy that she’d knitted, but he liked his morning ritual and so did everyone else.

It wasn’t long before Mallee and Pindaari were hovering impatiently while waiting for Billy to say that his biscuits were ready. He’d put them on a log and covered them in dry grass to cool down and finish cooking. They would have pinched one while they cooled, but they’d already learned their lesson about pinching Billy’s biscuits before he said they were ready.

The Elders pretended not to notice but they were loving the tension that Billy was building.

Then, with Mallee and Pindaari watching, Billy placed his crystal on the log beside the biscuits. They stared at it for a second, before realisation dawned on them.

“So that’s where you went yesterday!” Mallee said.

“Yep, and that’s where your stinking boomerang is. Get it if you can. And a crystal, if you can.”

Mallee stood up defiantly and declared,

“Easy!” He grabbed his spears and headed straight out of camp, but not before grabbing a biscuit and taking a big bite for Billy to see.

It caught Pindaari off guard who jumped up awkwardly and followed suit.

“Hey, wait for me,” he said.

“Bring back some food you mob,” Mandu called after them. “And don’t be long!”

Mallee turned around with his arms spread wide as if to say, we’ll bring back something big, no worries.

Billy just smiled at his confidence.

“Want one?” Billy said while offering the remaining biscuits to the Elders with the innocence of an angel. They cracked up laughing and declined his offer. So Billy threw them into the fire.

“That’ll teach them to play tricks on you, hey Billy?” Mandu said as he ruffled his son’s hair with pride.

“That’s nothin’ — wish I could see their faces when they get the rest of what’s comin’,” he laughed.

“Why, what else you done?” Mandu moaned.

“Not much, but they gonna have a new ending for their story tonight.”

Cobar and Burnam cracked up laughing again, encouraging Billy while Mandu shook his head in fatherly frustration.

“And I don’t reckon they gonna be dancing like they was last night neither,” continued Billy. Which set Cobar and Burnam off again. “They gonna be hungry but, how ‘bout we get ‘em a nice big kangaroo, Dad?”

“A kangaroo? Oh no, this is never gonna end. You boys gonna turn me into an ancestor!” Mandu said.

By now Cobar and Burnam had to hold their stomachs because they were laughing so hard.

“Nah, you be right, Dad. You coming, Grandfather?” Billy asked Burnam with a mischievous grin.

“Bloody oath, mate, I want to be in this story.”

Cobar held up his hand to get Mandu’s attention while trying to stop laughing,

“Your head gonna fall off one day, Mandu, if you keep shaking it like that.”

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Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Chapter 4 DON'T WAKE THE BATS

FOUR SMALL STONES (Urban Hunters book 1)
Chapter 4-DON'T WAKE THE BATS



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As soon as Billy was out of sight, he started a fast–paced ground–eating jog. He had a lot to do and he didn’t want to be stumbling home tired and careless on a moonless night with the snakes out and about.

The first thing he did before getting his hands dirty when he arrived back at the roo was to get dressed; not that he wore much, in fact he was near enough to naked in just a loincloth. It was a simple affair of a leather cord wrapped around his hips with a flap of kangaroo skin at the front for modesty. He started with his headband that he’d stained with red ochre. He stretched it to breaking point over his shaggy mop of sun–bleached black hair, and then he stuffed it with grass again to keep the flies at bay.

He slid two boomerangs into his loincloth cord: a heavy, non–returning one that flew straight and doubled as a club, and a lighter, returning boomerang that was handy, amongst other things, for hurling into flocks of birds. It either knocked one or more out of the sky or returned for another shot. He usually only carried one spear and a woomera, which was essentially a stick with a hook on the end that lengthened his arm. It hooked into the back of his spear allowing him to throw it a long way.

His favourite weapon came next — his stone thrower. A sling wasn’t a normal part of an Aborigines arsenal, but Burnam had seen pictures of them in one of Mrs Windsor’s history books, so he made one to see if they were any good. It couldn’t have been easier with two arm lengths of cord joined in the middle by an oval shaped piece of flat leather. The leather turned into a pouch for the stone to sit in when he held the two ends of the cord in his hand. Then all he had to do was swing the sling around and let go of one end of the cord when the time was right. Burnam was surprised by how far he could throw a stone, but accuracy took practice and he was already good with a spear, so he never realised its full potential. Billy on the other hand loved nothing more than throwing stones as a young boy, so Burnam made him a stone thrower to see how he’d go. He took to it like a hungry dingo to a wallaby and was soon coming home with small game like birds and lizards, which made a real difference to the clan’s menu, especially when larger game was hard to find. His ever–hungry brothers were more than impressed, which swelled the smallest member of the clan with pride. He kept it wrapped around his waist, but it hung loose and didn’t hold anything so he could whip it off in an instant if he needed it.

Then he carefully slid his razor sharp hunting knife into a thickened section of his belt, remembering an embarrassing moment when he was young where he cut right through the cord. He’d chipped the blade out of a large amethyst crystal, and then glued it into a bone handle using the sap of a Grass tree.

The last thing Billy put on looked like arm bands, but decoration was the last thing on his mind, he just needed somewhere to put his fishing lines. He kept his spare bone fishing hooks there too. They dangled down around the outside and looked cool. Fishing was his favourite pastime. He could quite happily spend all day doing nothing more than fishing from the bank of a billabong, cooking his catch on hot coals, or taking it home to feed his family.

It didn’t take long to locate Mallee’s boomerang by following the trail of entrails strewn some distance from the carcass. The boomerang looked alive with a thick layer of flies feeding hungrily off the slime covering its surface. He wrapped it carefully in several layers of green leaves in a vain attempt to keep the smell at bay. The flies weren’t fooled. They followed it around incessantly so he dangled it below the end of his spear to try to keep it as far away as possible.

The next thing he had to do was braid a long length of strong twine, which wasn’t a problem because Cocky Apple trees were everywhere in this part of his territory. So he proceeded to strip the outer bark off one side of the tree, rather than all around the trunk which would have killed it. Then he peeled away the soft inner bark up along the trunk so that it came away in lengths as long as his arm and about as wide as his thumb. When he had enough, he sat under a shady tree up–wind of the roo and proceeded to tear the lengths into thin strips until he had what looked like a pile of spaghetti. Then came the part the rest of his family always palmed off onto him because they had hairy legs. He had to roll the strips over the top of his thigh using the palm of his hand to twist it into twine. Hairy legs meant hairy twine, but Billy’s weren’t that bad yet.

It was a tedious job that tested his patience, especially as his mind began to wander into the horror of the morning’s events. I’m gonna get those mongrels. Then he remembered Pindaari stomping around kicking up the dust and cursing. He had to laugh, it was pretty funny. He’s good, he thought to himself. He backtracked, trying to remember all the little things Pindaari had done to trick him, even looking nervous when Mallee had offered to swap stones with him.

He felt a burning sensation on his foot and realised how far the sun had dropped. He sped up, working himself into a sweat to try to finish. Then he saw the dead roo move. He wondered if he was seeing things but then it moved again. Suddenly a fully–grown lace monitor burst out of the roo’s guts and scurried up a nearby tree. Billy sighed with relief and marvelled at how the goanna must have smelt him from within the carcass. Probably got a belly full of food and fell asleep, he figured. It gave him a new appreciation of why Cobar always insisted they cook the goannas right through, or else get sick. He thought about eating it, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach it with it stinking as badly as he knew it would. He wished he’d grabbed his dilly bag that he sometimes wore around his neck so he could have collected some extra turtle eggs. They would have gone down well about now.

Finally he finished his rope so he gathered everything he needed and set–off for the Crystal Cave. He had about a half hour journey ahead of him with a swarm of noisy blowflies to keep him company. He tried to run ahead of them but they settled into his slipstream and pestered him at every opportunity.

A bottlebrush tree in full bloom caught his eye so he stopped to lick the sugary syrup from its flowers. He felt a surge of energy straight away and took off again with renewed vigour, approaching the cave in a wide circle so his brothers wouldn’t see any telltale signs in his tracks the next morning.

He stopped off at a nearby creek to cool down and gather his thoughts. He wasn’t entirely sure about the wisdom of what he was about to do, especially considering he was alone. If something went wrong, he knew no one would find him in time to help. He figured his family would pick up his tracks and follow them to the cave, but by then it would be too late. He checked around for signs of a storm brewing and found a large ant’s nest on the ground. He noted they weren’t building up the soil around their entrances like chimneys to stop the rain from flowing in. He also sniffed the air and searched the sky. Everything seemed normal.

The crack of a stick breaking nearby surprised him. When he looked around he heard more breaking branches and realised that something was trying to sneak away. He knew it wasn’t his brothers, for they’d just sit tight, so he figured it must be an animal trying to avoid an early demise.

He looked for a green branch about as thick as his forearm and hacked off a suitably sized piece with his knife. It took a while, chipping little by little which made him think again about making an axe, but he didn’t want to be carting it around when his dad always carried one anyway. He then chopped off some chunky bits of resinous bark from the trunk of a grass tree and wedged them into a slot that he’d created after splitting the end of the branch. He added some dried eucalyptus leaves that were full of highly flammable oil, some dry Spinifex grass and then he proceeded to make a hot coal. He found a straight stick of hardwood and a piece of softwood. He put the end of the hardwood stick into a small depression in the softwood that he’d gouged with his knife, and spun the hardwood stick between the palms of his hands as fast as he could. It was usually a job for two people working in tandem, except Billy had done it plenty of times himself. It wasn’t long before a hot coal had formed. He tipped it into the Spinifex and blew on it. Flames rose immediately which fuelled the eucalyptus leaves, making it explode into life, crackling and spitting and flaring as if he held the sun itself on the end of his stick.

He didn’t waste time. He headed straight for the entrance to the cave. It was hard going, hopping from one stone to the next but before long, he was through the cavernous entrance and stepping into its darkened interior. A boulder had fallen from the cavern roof sometime in the past and knocked a hole in the back wall, exposing the subterranean labyrinth of a spring fed river system. He was relieved to step into the shallow water that flowed over the river’s sandy bottom because he didn’t have to worry about his footprints anymore. He never liked being in the cavern — it was roomy and beautifully impressive with a variety of cascading ferns housing busy little birds going about their business, but every square inch of the ceiling was covered in hundreds of thousands of micro bats that panicked at the slightest disturbance. It was only shady dark which wasn’t enough for them to settle into a restful sleep during the day. It often looked alive, as if the shadowed rock was moving as the bats jostled about. He looked away because it often made him dizzy if he watched them for too long. It was as if the roof was closing in on him and then moving away again when the bats moved around like a Mexican wave. One bat would change position making all those around it shuffle about, sending out waves in a restless sea.

He carried on, carefully negotiating the many twists and turns until finally, the path rose up out of the water where it entered a massive cavern that contained a large pool of crystal–clear spring water. Billy and his brothers had been here on many occasions to swim, or to wait out bush fires and bad weather. This was his first time alone. It was big enough to live in for a week or more if need be. They had a fireplace on the sandy bank beside the pool and they used rocky platforms to sleep on that always remained dry. The water level rose sometimes depending on what the weather was doing, although it never rose to the level of the platforms. It did catch the clan off guard once, submerging their fire and plunging them into darkness for a day and a half. They would have swum back out to the cave entrance if the water hadn’t been moving so fast. From then on, they kept a stash of long lasting hardwood on one of the platforms. Billy stacked it into the fire pit on the sand bank and lit it, illuminating the whole cavern in a warm glow.

Now came the tricky part. He wedged his torch into a crevice on the rock wall and tied everything he needed into a tight bundle using one end of his rope. Then he coiled the other end in his hand and entered the cold water. Cave shrimp darted about ahead of him as he swam to the far side; then at a spot known to all of them, he filled his lungs and dived deep. The light from his fire helped him find a hole in the wall where he stuck his head through to be sure that he could see light penetrating the underwater canal from much farther ahead. He could see clearly so he continued, unfurling his rope as he swam against the flow of unhurried water to an airlock, fifteen metres farther on.

At some stage, a long, long time ago, a small section of the roof had collapsed, creating enough light on a bright day to see right through the water. Mandu had discovered it when they were trapped in the cave in the dark. He saw light coming through the water, so over the years they all had a go at swimming closer and closer until they discovered the source.

That’s where Billy was heading now as he surfaced into the near total darkness of the airlock to catch his breath. There, he trod water in preparation of the next stage, being careful not to bang his head on the roof while he pulled his cargo towards him. As he felt his stinking package approach the surface, he held it under so he wouldn’t have to suffer its stench in such a confined space. Then he re–coiled the rope and prepared his lungs for the next stage. It was the longest and most dangerous at a good twenty metres which was a real stretch for his young lungs. It had been over a year since he was here but he was much stronger and fitter now, so he felt confident of making it. He took a deep breath and carried on.

About eight metres in, all was going well until his foot became entangled within the rope that he was releasing one coil at a time. Desperately he tried to free himself but after realising that he wasn’t going to make it, he tried to get back to the airlock. He only just made it.

It shook him up pretty badly, making him wonder if getting even with his brothers was worth it; he didn’t want them getting into trouble too. Still, they had all made it before without any trouble. It’s just that he was dragging the rope, he reasoned. Then he remembered the vision of the guts racing for his face. That made up his mind.

This time he was more careful about how he coiled the rope in his hands, making sure each coil sat neatly beside the next so he only released one at a time. He calmed down and thought of his mum, as he often did when he was in a tight spot. Cobar had recognised the woman in Billy’s dreams as Elanora. Billy’s description of her cheeky smile was uncanny, however what sealed the deal was the frangipani in her hair which she always wore in summertime. Cobar encouraged him to talk to her whenever he felt the need, whether it be in his dreams, in meditation, or out loud in broad daylight, it didn’t matter as long he benefited from her motherly spirit. He felt the need now so he closed down his mind of all outside worries and took himself to the place where she always waited patiently. She was there in an instant. He saw her smiling face.

“Help me mother, guide me through this cave.” She frowned, which frightened him because she’d never done that before. Then her frown turned into a mischievous grin and she nodded. He sighed with relief and knew everything would be OK. He thanked her for her help and watched her image fade from his mind.

He felt completely relaxed and focused now. He pictured the obstacles along the way and remembered hand holds they’d used before to propel themselves through the water. He grinned in anticipation, took a deep breath, and tried again.

The rope uncoiled easily this time and he swam with confidence. He looked for the handholds and swam faster than ever. As the light grew brighter and brighter, it filled him with even more confidence. His lungs really started to object. Finally, he breached the surface in the final airlock where he desperately sucked in gobfulls of air. Then the devil inside him released a broad smile, he was nearly done and revenge would be sweet. He surveyed the roof an arm length or two above his head. It was almost completely dark, but he knew its contours well.

The Crystal Cave and the source of the light lay fifteen metres farther on. It was too far to reach without recovering in the final airlock first, but from here on it was quite easy. He again pulled his cargo towards him and got organised, before taking a final breath and swimming the last stretch.

After the dark, the light in the Crystal Cave was too bright to see without allowing some time to adjust his eyes, so he reached for a handhold and waited. At this time of the day, the sun shone directly through a hole in the surface onto the walls of the massive geode, where Billy now trod water. Sparkling clear quartz crystals grew shoulder–to–shoulder, reflecting the sunlight, and creating a million little specks of blazing, multi–coloured light racing in every direction, illuminating the entire cave system. He could see the light fading fast so he wasted no time in chipping off a small crystal with the butt of his knife. That was the easy part.

He arrived back in camp just as the sun kissed the horizon. He was later than he expected, but he had to detour for some supplies. He needed seeds to grind into flour to bake a batch of biscuits, special, for Mallee and Pindaari.

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Monday, 20 May 2013

Chapter 3 THE STENCH OF SOMETHING DEAD

FOUR SMALL STONES (Urban Hunters book 1)
Chapter 3- THE STENCH OF SOMETHING DEAD

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The sun wasn’t far off the horizon but it was already stifling hot and Billy was thirsty. He’d been following Mallee for a good four kilometres when Mallee veered off their trail towards a nearby billabong for a drink. Billy wanted to ask how far they were going, but he knew only too well that they’d probably tell him the opposite of the truth anyway, so he started digging into a north–facing embankment for the eggs of the long necked turtle. It was a regular foraging spot so he knew exactly where to look. It wasn’t long before he had over a dozen filling his belly. Mallee and Pindaari followed his lead and then, after carefully filling the dirt back over the holes of the remaining eggs, they set–off again.

It was only about another half a kilometre before the stench of something dead insulted Billy’s senses.

“Not far now,” Mallee called from the front.

“Where we goin’?” Pindaari asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“Not far,” Mallee said.

Billy just laughed to himself and tuned into the unmistakeable hum of a swarm of blowflies up ahead. Then he saw it, the enormously bloated belly of a long–dead kangaroo cooking in the hot summer sun. Billy’s brain began swirling in the possibilities of Mallee’s twisted mind when suddenly he was set upon. Hundreds of noisy blowflies landed heavily upon his skin where they proceeded to vacuum him dry of salt. He darted for a clump of grass, ripping it from the ground before jamming it up under his headband so it hung down over his face. It helped, but it didn’t stop the stench left behind by their sodden little feet. He didn’t like this game already.

* * *

As a youngster, as much as Billy wanted to follow his older brothers in their never–ending pursuit of mischief, he was never quite able to keep up with them. If Pindaari had slowed down for him, he might have been OK, but Pindaari was struggling to keep up with Mallee as it was, so Billy missed out altogether.

He was an inquisitive little boy who wanted to know everything about everything, which kept Cobar, Burnam and Mandu busy thinking of lessons to fill his young mind. Cobar took him on long walks observing nature and discussing dreamtime stories. They gathered seeds to grind into flour for biscuits, and herbs for medicines, which Billy eagerly applied to his brother’s injuries. Mandu was the consummate hunter who loved having Billy along for the hunt. He said Billy was quiet, and that he considered his surroundings with a keen sense. Burnam was the toolmaker of the group, often sitting around camp surrounded by half a dozen projects in various stages of development. While carving a hardwood spear tip or constructing a trap of one kind or another, he constantly recited the ABCs with Billy, or practiced counting, just as Mrs Windsor had done with him. He told Billy that he stood the best chance of survival if he spoke proper English with, “Don’t shoot!” being a phrase of particular importance.

Billy wanted his skills to make up for his lack of size, so he learned as quickly as he could. Even before he could hunt, his brothers often returned to camp with a kill, only to find everyone full from Billy’s biscuits. They didn’t mind or have any jealousy towards him, as the better provider he was, the more food they had to fill their insatiable appetites.

Billy’s greatest skill came naturally — he had a wonderful sense of humour and an infectiously cheeky smile. It acted like a magnet on his already handsome face, drawing everyone in for a good time and helping to create a happy atmosphere that set the tone for the clan in general. Ripples of mirth constantly undulated around the campsite. It was the little things that amused them most: Cobar bursting into a thunderous snore during his afternoon nap, a yabby latching onto someone’s toe or a simple fart would often see the clan rolling around in hysterics.

To make up for having to go off without their little brother, Mallee and Pindaari often dramatised their day’s events for him with highly exaggerated tales around the camp–fire at night, much to the delight and entertainment of everyone. However, as Billy got older, they started playing tricks on him as they constantly did to one another for harmless fun. The problem was, the tricks were usually at their level and not at Billy’s, so he often came off second best, which frustrated him enormously. He began to brood, and his sense of humour stopped bubbling to the surface as it normally did. The Elders figured he’d work it out by himself, but again, he was just a bit too young.

They realised they hadn’t teased him themselves, which would have taught him how to handle it. So they put their heads together and came up with a plan. They didn’t want to mollycoddle him and protect him from the boys’ games, and they knew he was smart, so they tried to teach him how to anticipate their tricks and turn them around. They started with the basics, like distracting him and then pinching a little of his food. They gave it back of course, at first, and made it fun, but it wasn’t long before Billy was loading a tasty morsel with hot bush pepper berries and placing it strategically for the Elders to pinch.

So as Billy watched to see what Mallee’s next move would be with the overinflated kangaroo, he felt well prepared to counteract his devious mind.

Mallee didn’t bother protecting himself from the flies, in fact, he did the opposite — he laid down his spears and his woomera, pulled his boomerangs and knife from the loincloth cord around his waist, and even went as far as removing his loincloth. What was he up to Billy wondered. He noticed that Pindaari seemed to be wondering the same thing, although he looked a little concerned.

When Mallee was ready, he turned proud and naked to face his brothers, and then presented his small stone for them to see. He grinned mischievously and crouched down with his arms spread wide as if using them for balance, while looking at the kangaroo with caution. He flashed one last look at his brothers as if to say, “I’m going in,” and then he began his stalk.

Billy just shook his head, dumbfounded by the stupidity of what he figured Mallee was about to do. He was going to place his stone on top of the roo’s belly, carefully, as if it might explode in his face. Billy had no doubt that it would take a lot more than just a few stones for that to happen.

Pindaari shot a fearful look to Billy while shaking his head slowly, as if he couldn’t believe how brave Mallee was being. He moved to a tree to watch the proceedings from behind its safety, while Billy stood in awe at the level of idiocy right before his very eyes.

Mallee hesitated, obviously unsure of where to place his foot on the leaf–littered ground that crunched noisily every time he moved. He backtracked and searched for a better approach, which impressed Pindaari no end, as if the sound of a leaf crackling would surely cause the roo to blow up. Mallee closed in again, more cautious this time with the strain obvious, especially when he took a moment to flick the sweat from his brow. Pindaari’s intake of breath was audible, the tension palpable. Finally, Mallee stretched out his arm and placed his small stone on top of the over–inflated belly. Then he ducked down in an attempt to avoid the eruption of maggot–filled contents that would surely spread far and wide. It didn’t, so he popped his head up from behind a clump of grass with a mouthful of shiny white teeth announcing his victory. He returned in triumph, shoulders wide and chest out as if he had just conquered the world.

Billy expected Pindaari to rush to Mallee, to congratulate him for his brave deed. But he didn’t look happy at all, in fact if anything, he looked downright concerned. He was bouncing the granite stone in his hand thoughtfully, feeling its weight.

Mallee turned to Pindaari with a malicious grin and said,

“Your turn!”

Pindaari looked horror–struck and stared at his stone as if it was about to put him to death. Mallee smiled wide and shot a quick wink to Billy. That’s when Billy remembered Pindaari tricking Mallee into sitting on a bull ant nest the week before — he was still walking funny and itching incessantly. Pindaari was much more suited to gathering than hunting, so Billy realised that he really didn’t have a clue whether the roo would explode or not. It would give Mallee a victory if Pindaari chickened out. Not much of a victory but still, at least it would be something to tease him about. And when Pindaari finally realised that there never really was any danger at all, it would make Mallee’s victory even greater. Mallee really was making a meal of him. Pindaari was stomping around in frustrated defiance while Mallee goaded him into having his go. Billy decided he wanted a piece of Mallee’s action too, so he started stripping off. The look of shocked disbelief on Pindaari’s face was priceless.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he yelled, “I’m next, not you!”

“Too late!” Billy declared. “You’re too scared, so it’s my turn.” Billy looked to Mallee for confirmation that it was OK, who nodded back with pure delight lighting up his face.

Pindaari was outraged, he let loose a tirade of raucous indignation and even reverted to his native tongue to lend weight to his objections. All it did was increase Mallee’s victory.

Billy took his time undressing, enjoying the show too much to waste it. Pindaari was kicking up the dust and stomping around in circles, throwing up his arms and cursing. By the time Billy was ready, Mallee was already dressed and moving off to the side for a better view.

Billy followed Mallee’s lead by making a big deal of his stalk, even going as far as testing the wind direction and changing his approach to suit.

Pindaari in the meantime had finally calmed down enough to watch the proceedings. Billy knew that Pindaari was hoping beyond hope that the roo would blow up in his face, so Pindaari wouldn’t have to have his go. Billy remembered seeing Mallee pointing out the sharp edges on the biggest stone by rubbing his finger along it, and then hearing Pindaari giggling. He bet Mallee was telling Pindaari that the sharp edges would make the roo explode for sure. But Billy knew that Pindaari had figured it out by now and realised that his stone was the heaviest by far.

Billy had his back to them but he could feel their eyes upon him, watching his every move. He decided to drag his stalk out as long as he could, to build up the tension and make Pindaari sweat. It wasn’t easy. The smell was horrendous and the flies had formed a dark cloud around him. He wanted to show them that he wasn’t scared at all, nor bothered in the least by the smell, so he took a moment to examine the roo’s broken leg. Probably from a rabbit hole, he figured. He couldn’t hold out any longer, he reached out over the stinking roo while holding his head back to avoid the stench steaming up above it, before slowly, and carefully lowering his stone. He felt the fur on his fingertips as he settled it, ensuring it wouldn’t roll off when suddenly he saw the flash of Mallee’s boomerang whiz past his nose.

Everything slowed down: the weapon whirling end over end and indenting the belly, Mallee’s words, “It don’t matter how big it is.”, and the memory of the, “whomp, whomp, whomp,” sound of the boomerang that hadn't registered. Paralysed with fear he watched in horror as the indentation deepened and then, “WHOOSH,” a cloud of flatulent gases exploded in his face. His mouth, wide open at the time, snapped shut. Too late — gangrenous guts stormed in, slamming into the back of his tongue and filling his mouth. He gagged while trying to spit it out but the rotting remnants were gummy and sticking to the insides of his mouth. That’s when it moved, the ball inside his mouth started wriggling around in a porridgy mass of maggots. He spat and spat and spat but it was useless without water. Then he heard the howls of laughter coming from his brothers. He tried to open his gummed up eyelids and had to wipe them clear with the back of his hands. Mallee and Pindaari were rolling around in uncontrollable fits of laughter. It enraged him. He plunged his hands deep into the carcass and pulled out two huge handfuls of the green, maggot–filled guts.

He was standing over them before they even realised he was there. He waited, needing to see the fear in their faces before he rubbed it in. Pindaari saw him first but Billy was watching Mallee, and as Billy turned to see Pindaari roll away, Mallee rolled away too, leaving Billy standing alone and flustered with two lively handfuls of stinking guts.

It set them off all over again, so Billy lunged at them. They moved like lightening, bolting back along the trail from where they had all come. Billy would have cursed them, cursed them all the way back to the Dreamtime, but he wasn’t wasting his breath, he was focused, focused on catching them and making them eat that roo! His legs powered him like never before, floating over obstacles with ease while concentrating on balancing the wriggling mass at the ends of his outstretched arms. They kept a safe distance ahead of him, only just ahead to keep him keen, but none the less, well out of his reach. By the time they reached the billabong and swam away all Billy had left was the slime dripping from his hands.

“You bastards,” he yelled. Even his inability to land a decent curse made them laugh. He stood in waist–deep water looking at his hands in frustration. He couldn’t swim after them without the water washing his hands clean. “I’m gonna get you mongrels,” he said.

“You gotta catch us first,” Mallee said, swimming closer now that Billy had washed his hands.

Billy was swishing and spitting in a vain attempt to rid himself of the foul taste.

“Here y’are,” Mallee said kindly, revealing a lotus lilly that he was hiding below the surface of the water.

Billy snatched at it and ravenously devoured the bulbous end of its root system; but it was far from enough so Pindaari threw him a couple more.

“Still gonna get yez,” Billy said with the onion–like substance overflowing his mouth.

“Oh, come on! I saw you wink at Mallee thinking you was gonna get me,” Pindaari challenged.

Billy tried to hide his smile but it was too late, he knew they’d seen it wrinkle his cheek. They burst out laughing and came closer, knowing they’d checkmated him.

“We got you good, little bro!” Mallee said.

“You just remember that when I get you back!”

“You won’t get me. I’m too smart for you.”

“You won’t be saying that when you’re swimming in it,” Billy promised with a plan already forming in his head. All it did was make them laugh even harder.

“It even went in your mouth!” Mallee said in between fits of his own laughter.

Billy felt something moving in his hair so he felt around and fingered out a maggot, which he flicked at Pindaari who was within range.

“Oooh, a little maggot, I’m sooo scared,” he teased. “You thought I was too scared to have me go didn’t you?” He exaggerated a big wink to Mallee who burst out laughing all over again.

“So the stones had nothing to do with it?” Billy said.

“Nah, they was just to make you think I was gonna get Pinni, but I tricked ya,” Mallee said, as if he was a genius.

“Took two of you to think of something to get me!”

“Wasn’t that hard,” Mallee said.

“That’s right, ‘cause you’re not that smart.”

“Smarter than you, little bro, you’re the galah today,” Mallee beamed in delight.

“Well you’re gonna be a bigger galah tomorrow.”

“Pindaari might be, but you won’t get me!”

“You weren’t that smart when the bull ant bit you on the balls!” Pindaari said.

“I’m still gonna get you back for that!”

Billy’s mind wandered while his brothers splashed around bickering with one another. He had to find a way to get them back or he’d never live this one down — it had the makings of a story that would go on for years and years, perhaps even making it into legend! He had to get away to concentrate so he figured this was as good a time as any to go back to the roo to get his things.

“Hey! Where you goin’, Galah?” Mallee said. “Get me boomerang will ya?” he added, a little sheepishly.

But Billy didn’t reply; he had plans for Mallee’s boomerang …

**********************************************************


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