Free When Darkness Falls by John Bodey Page A

in their tribe. So I went home.”
    â€œSo that is why I have never had a father, only uncles. I was hoping you would tell me. If you know this land, then you will also know how far it is to our old homeland.”
    â€œAnother two to three days further north. But we won’t need to go that far. Here, if my other sisters in marriage are still alive, will be far enough.”
    That night they camped on the ridge overlooking the river valley and watched the campfires flickering below. Next morning as they walked across the dry flood plains towards the camp, warriors appeared, eyeing the strangers as they approached.
    â€œBintung Crooked Leg and Nundi-noora, you Magpie! Who you staring at?” Mother cried.
    â€œWho this one who sing out our name like sister?”
    â€œMunmurra with them skinny legs you used to tease. Anybody think you never seen this woman before.”
    â€œMunkjarra. Mine yiminny. You propa woman this time, all same dat belong young time. Who this pulla?”
    â€œThis pulla? You don’t know him? This one you bin carry, you bin sing, you bin cry when he bin leeb you.”
    â€œMunni? That one Munni?”
    â€œYou-aiii.”
    â€œWho is he, Mother?” Munni asked, staring at the warriors who spoke.
    â€œHe’s your uncle, your father’s youngest brother, Nundi-Noora. You must recognise him as your father.”
    â€œAaaiiieee, Munnniii, Munni mine baby. Aaiieee come here to your father. Come here and let me look you.”
    â€œNundi-noora?”
    â€œYes, my sister?”
    â€œYour other son. My youngest. Take him as you do Munni. His name is Datun, his father has no name.”
    â€œAaiiieee, Datun, Datun. This too much. Come here tothis old man. Let me look you. Aaiiieee, you bin make this old man heart propa full. Come, we go old mother Bessi. This put some life in her bones. She bin sittin round too long waitin to die. Shell be propa glad you’n three pulla still walk’n’bout, I tell you.”
    â€œIt will be good to see the old girl again. I’ve thought of her a lot through the years.”
    They talked late into the night, and through it. The visitors were told a tale of the strangest happening: word had spread far and wide about the tribe that now had no name. Their homelands and hunting grounds were empty; no one travelled through that country anymore. The land was taboo; too many spirits roamed it looking for peace. It was a dead land that harboured only wandering souls.
    Only seven aged and crazy women had survived the long walkabout, and when they returned and saw nothing there for their old age, nothing except barrenness and loneliness, they sat down on the banks of the river and cried their lives away.
    â€œIt is said that at nights, when the wind blows gently through the leaves of the trees, you can hear their sighs,” Bessi told them. “Poor things, they wait for release to enter their Spirit world. Only people of the tribe can help them. Now sleep, and think on what I say.”
    The boys bedded down in comfort, and the old ones kept on talking.
    â€œAlone at last. Listen to my words, Munmurra my sister,” said Nundi-noora.
    â€œSister? Had I stayed, I would have been your wife. In my youth I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m an old grownwoman now, and believe me, I know what my choice would have been if we could live it all again.”
    Munni’s new-found father smiled. “There is time. But for the present, there are more pressing needs. I think you should go with your sons to the last camp of your people, those seven crazy women. Walk along the river bank, sit in the shade of the trees, talk with your spirit ancestors and set your people free. Let the land live again. If you no longer have any feeling for it, set it free and let others take of its waters and food.”
    â€œTomorrow we will go. We have been away from our own homes, our families and our people for almost a