Chapter 6: To William Creek; to Marree

Aboriginal tribes have close ties with the land and there are many places that are sacred to them. These areas date back to Australia’s earliest history. We ask that you take extreme care when venturing into the outback and respect the landowners and traditional owner’s culturally significant areas.

Whilst never diminishing the treatment of indigenous Australians by early settlers, the Marree district and community, especially the Arabana, are working toward building relationships for a better future for the region around Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre. (Marree Hotel)

Sam read the blurb standing in the lobby of the Hotel, checking in. He wondered whether he should be optimistic or cynical.

“You are wondering. You might well.” It was a young woman wearing a dress and lipstick.

“Are you Arabana or Diyari?”

She laughed. “And if I said yes, O man of two tribes?”

“I’d compliment you on your wit.”

“I am Adnyamathanha, so neither one. I am called Teresa Raven.”

“And I Sam Bunjil.”

“I work for the Aboriginal Peoples Committee Office. Come and sit.”

“It may not be proper.”

“We are of Australia, not of the band, the group, the moiety, the caste, the tribe.”

“Can you come to my room? I have not washed, my clothing is travel-stained.”

She laughed again. “I don’t think I know you that well, yet. Ask for the office when you have prepared.”

Sam was really confused. This strange girl had suddenly appeared. And he was at sea. Not really at sea. At lease eight hours from any wet sea. But there were the salt remains of seas all about. Carved by beings thousands of years before aborigines arrived from whatever island north and west of Cape York. He went to his room, stripped, showered, tied back his hair, and dressed in a clean shirt and cleanest work pants. He went back to the lobby, wondering whether this would turn out to be another disappearance trick of Bunjil. It wasn’t.

“Are you called ‘Teresa’?”

“I was called Tessa in school.”

“I am Samuel, Samuel Hollister. Bunjil isn’t my name.”

“I didn’t think it was. Bunjil is the wedge-tail.”

“My totem.”

“As the Raven is mine.”

“Can I take you for a drink or for food?”

“The hotel’s got a monopoly. The bar’s open and dinner’s from six to eight.”

“Sounds like a lively nightlife.”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“I am Samuel Eyre Hollister. I will be 19 in November.”

“‘Eyre’?”

“My grandfather is Charles Stuart Eyre. His grandfathers – maybe great-grandfathers – were both explorers. The Eyre part of my family has been here since 1832. The Stuart part since 1838. Not very long. Anyway, I went to school in Sydney till I was nine. Then I was home-schooled till I was twelve. Then I went to a boarding school north of Sydney. I graduated. Now I am on walkabout.”

“That tells me little. I attended the Aboriginal School here till I was twelve. Then I got a scholarship to a religious school in the south. I was their token aborigine. The other girls made fun of my hair. The boys wouldn’t dance with me.”

“And now?”

“I’d like to go to a university. I want to study Aboriginal art. But not in Adelaide.”

“Are your parents here in Marree?”

“No. They are Adnyamathanha and live in Iga Warta. They are part of the ‘cultural awareness’ program.” [The Adnyamathanha are the Aboriginal people of the northern Flinders Ranges. Adnyamathanha meaning ‘hills’ or ‘rock people’ is a term now used to describe the Kuyani, Wailpi, Yadliaura, Pilatapa and Pangkala, the traditional groups in the Flinders Ranges.]

“Do you know any teachings?”

“Of course.

Long ago, when the whole country was featureless and flat, Mandya [the wallaroo] and Urdlu [the kangaroo] lived at Puthadamathanha.

Then one day they had a fight over tucker. Mandya pulled Urdlu and stretched his arms, fingers and legs until they were very long. At the same time, Urdlu pressed Mandya’s fingers and legs and they became short.

Urdlu and Mandya separated. Poor old wounded Mandya made his way to Varaardlanha (Paralana Hot Springs, north of Arkaroola), where he created the ranges and hills.

Urdlu looked back and saw the hills coming down the plain. Then, with a big sweep of his tail, Urdlu pushed the ranges back to where they are today.

The spirit of Mandya can still be seen in the form of a pointed hill, looking out over the plain. He is known to Adnyamathanha as Thudupinha [Freeling Heights].

There are stories about all the places.”

“I know of Yurlu’s voyage.” Sam said.

Yurlu journeyed south from his home at Karkalpunha to attend an important corroboree and initiation at Ikara. On the way, Yurlu made a signal fire. The smoke was a sign that he was on his way to the ceremony. His fire created the coal at Leigh Creek and at other places where he lit fires on the way.

At the same time, two Akurra (serpents) set out to travel south to Ikara. The Akurra Valadupa entered Ikara through Vira Warldu and camped at Akurra Awl, a large waterhole.

The people looked up and saw bright stars rising. They took this as a sign to start the ceremony. They didn’t realize that the stars were actually the eyes of the Akurra looking down at them.

When Yurlu the kingfisher arrived, the ceremony was well under way. Yurlu snatched the firestick from Walha the turkey and threw it up into the sky. This stick turned into the red star Wildu (Mars). The two Akurra came up on either side of the ceremonial ground in whirlwinds and caught and ate the people.

Only four escaped - the two initiates (Vardnapa ~ the new Vardnapa, and Yakamburu ~ the new Wilyaru), Walha the turkey and Yurlu the kingfisher.

Walha and Yurlu flew off south and the two initiates fled eastwards, watched by the Akurra. The bodies of the two Akurra now form the sides of Wilpena Pound.

Tessa looked at him: “The Akurra are manifestations of the Rainbow Serpent.”

“Yes. My father is a Carpet Python.” [The Australian brushturkey (Alectura lathami) isn’t related to the North American turkey.]

They’d eaten dinner during the stories. “Do you want another drink?”

“No. I must be getting home. I work in the morning.”

“Let me walk with you.”

It was only nine when Sam returned to the hotel. He thought he’d phone again and try to get some sort of “fix” on what folks thought and where he might stand.