Chapter 1

Samuel Eyre Hollister, seven years of age, was packing his case. He was going to visit with his grandfather for the weekend. That meant either two or three nights, depending on when mum got back from Canberra, where she was visiting her mum and dad. He had two each of underclothes, shorts and shirts. Then he added a third shirt, in case he had to change. And two pairs of socks. And his toothbrush. And his notebook and a pencil. Would he need anything else? He’d take a waterproof jacket. Sandals. He’d wear shoes. He wouldn’t need anything to read: his granddad had lots and lots of books. And boxes of bugs ... no, insects and other specimens.

“Are you OK, Sam?”

“Yes, mum. I’m packing.” He thought for a bit. “Do you want to check?”

“No. I’m sure you’ve done it right.” Sam had known that would work. She wanted to make sure, but he’d worked out that if he asked, he’d be able to go unsupervised.

“I’m going to call a taxi and then call Gordy.”

“Fine.” He zipped up his bag.

Less than 15 minutes later they were in front of the building on Goulburn and his grandfather was waiting.

“Hey.”

“I’ve only a few minutes to catch my train, but I’m certain there won’t be any problems,” said Rachel.

“Sam and I will cope.”

They stood together as the taxi turned the corner.

“Want me to carry that?”

“No. I can do it.”

“How’s school?”

“S’OK, I guess.”

“Dinner here or out?”

“Out if possible. But not Japanese.”

“No problem. Don’t you like rice or soy?”

“Oh, no, they’re fine. It’s just that when dad’s away for a week or two, mum goes overboard. We’ve had fish, chicken, vegetables, tofu, soba, and rice for ten days.” They were upstairs at Gordy’s flat.

“Should we go to the other extreme?”

“Do you mean a steakhouse or pizza?”

“Either one,” Gordy said laughing.

“Pizza tonight, please.”

“OK. We can walk over to Autentico on Brisbane or north to Macchiato on Pitt.”

“You choose.”

“Fine. That aside, when would you like to eat?”

“I’m not rigid. Mum likes to set things on a schedule. Dad eats when he has time to. I guess I’m more like him.”

“When I was your age, I was hungry all the time. But where we were in Mitchell, it was easy to forage. Honey ants, nuts and fruits were easy.”

“Mum wouldn’t like that.”

“No. But Patrick never minded.”

“I guess I could eat anytime.”

“But not be greedy. Remember Mundiba.”

“Mundiba?”

“A long time ago there was a great drought and food became very scarce. All were hungry and worried for the water of the river was very low and few fish could be caught. When hunting and food gathering were successful the food was shared by all.

“Mundiba was a young hunter who spent most of his time looking for wild bees. He went out every morning soon after sunrise and did not return until sunset and each time he was empty-handed but he greedily ate the food collected by the others. He kept saying that the honey was as scarce as the food they collected however the gubi of the tribe had his suspicions of Mundiba and instructed his spirit servant to follow Mundiba next morning on one of his hunting expeditions.

“The small invisible spirit followed Mundiba the very next day and saw him find a nest and making a hole in the trunk, remove the nest and eat with relish a considerable amount of the sweetness of the bush. The invisible spirit of the gubi followed Mundiba from tree to tree and saw him eating greedily each time. This act of greed outraged the spirit servant and so he began to sing to the tree to persuade the tree to make the hole smaller and smaller and soon Mundiba’s arm was stuck in the tree. That is where Mundiba remained until he was found dead hanging by his arm from the tree.”

“Where is that from?”

“I heard it when I was your age. So it must be Kulilla. It is a profound teaching. Greed will lead to punishment. Those who behave in a similar manner may expect strict discipline.”

“What’s gubi?”

“Same as nungungi, from a different dialect.” But, you know, Baiame is generous.”

“Is there a teaching about that?”

“Of course.

“After Baiame left the earth and went to live in his far-away land of rest on top of the Sacred Mountain, all the flowers that grew on the plains and the stony ridges and all the trees withered and died and none grew again. The earth looked bare and desolate with no flowers to brighten it. As the flowers were gone, so were the bees and their honey.

“The People asked the Wirinuns [the Clever Ones] to go and ask Baiame if he could cover the earth again with the flowers so it would be beautiful again. The Wirinuns journeyed until they came to the foot of the Sacred Mountain and began climbing and after four days they reached the summit and were greeted by the Spirit Messenger of Baiame. They told the Spirit Messenger they came to ask Baiame for flowers to make the earth beautiful again and they would bring back the bees to give honey to the People. The Spirit Messenger lifted the Wirinuns into the Sky Camp where fadeless flowers never ceased to bloom and told the Wirinuns they could gather as many as they could hold in their hands as they were good People and had obeyed Baiame’s Lore of the Land. The Sky Camp of Baiame was a land of great beauty; flowers bloomed everywhere in such splendour as they had never seen before; they looked like rows of rainbows laid on the grass. The Wirinuns cried tears of joy as they had never seen such beauty.

“The Spirit Messenger returned the Wirinuns to their People laden with armfuls of the blossoms from the Sky Camp and told them that the earth would never again be bare of blossoms and fragrance. The Wirinuns scattered the flowers far and wide. Some fell on the tree tops, some on the plains, and ridges; and where they fell they have grown ever since. It is the work of the bees of Baiame from the blossoms of the Sky Camp to make Yarraga [the spring wind] blow the rain down the Sacred Mountain that the trees, shrubs and flowers may blossom and the earth bees make honey.”