Chapter 16

Tessa and Tadum drove to Gabbaitch with Jos, Zeke, Andy, Henk and Sam.

“Look to the east,” Sam said.

“Yes?”

“That yellowish line is marsh weeds that were growing in the shallows. I’d like you two to harvest as much as possible and bring it here.”

“Thatch?”

“And possibly flooring.”

“Right. So we cut the dry and leave the moist or damp.”

“Exactly. Sturt mentions “huts” quite often.”

“Soon after we passed close to some gum-trees and found a small dry channel under a sand hill on the other side, running this down we came suddenly on two bough huts, before which two or three little urchins were playing, who, the moment they saw us, popped into the huts like rabbits.” chap. 8; “On a closer examination of the locality, this well appeared to be of great value to the inhabitants. It was 22 feet deep and 8 feet broad at the top. There was a landing place, but no steps down to it, and a recess had been made to hold the water, which was slightly brackish, the rim of the basin being also incrusted with salt. Paths led from this spot to almost every point of the compass, and in walking along one to the left, I came on a village consisting of nineteen huts, but there were not any signs of recent occupation. Troughs and stones for grinding seed were lying about, with broken spears and shields, but it was evident that the inhabitants were now dispersed in other places, and only assembled here to collect the box-tree seeds, for small boughs of that tree were lying in heaps on the ground, and the trees themselves bore the marks of having been stripped. There were two or three huts in the village of large size, to each of which two smaller ones were attached, opening into its main apartment, but none of them had been left in such order as those I have already described.” chap. 9;

Notwithstanding the misgivings I had as to the creek, the paths of the natives became wider and wider as we advanced. They were now as broad as a footpath in England, by a road side, and were well trodden; numerous huts of boughs also lined the creek, so that it was evident we were advancing into a well peopled country, and this circumstance raised my hopes that it would improve.” vol. 2, chap. 2; “The huts of these natives were constructed of boughs, and were of the usual form, excepting those of the last tribe, which were open behind, forming elliptic arches of boughs, and the effect was very pretty.” vol. 2, chap. 2; “The native habitations, at all events those of the natives of the interior, with the exception of the Cooper’s Creek tribe, had huts of a much more solid construction than those of the natives of the Murray or the Darling, although some of their huts were substantially built also. Those of the interior natives however were made of strong boughs with a thick coating of clay over leaves and grass. They were entirely impervious to wind and rain, and were really comfortable, being evidently erections of a permanent kind to which the inhabitants frequently returned. Where there were villages these huts were built in rows, the front of one hut being at the back of the other, and it appeared to be a singular but universal custom to erect a smaller hut at no great distance from the large ones, but we were unable to detect for what purpose they were made, unless it was to deposit their seeds; as they were too small even for children to inhabit.” Vol. 2, chap. 4. Charles Sturt, “Narrative... 1844, 1845... , “ [1848]

“Did you read Paul Memmott’s book about housing?”

“No. I did see the architecture photos when they were on exhibit.”

“Could your grandfather or your mother get us a copy?”

“I’ll phone later. I’d be interested in Henk’s thoughts.”

“Yes, me too. You know, there was a time when my people walked with bare feet upon the ground. We slept on the ground. We were at one with our surroundings. It tied us to the earth. We could feel her and gather strength from her. That has been lost. Everybody wears shoes or boots and lives in European houses. They have been separated from the earth. You bought the wood. We should try to regain contact.” Sam didn’t say anything. After a few minutes Tessa said “I’ll get to gathering rushes.”

They had just finished nailing three ‘beams’ into a pyramidal shape when an old Ford F-150 rattled up. Two men and two women got out. They appeared to be in their twenties. The ute’s bed was full of stuff.

“We heard there’s a new place here,” said one. “We’re from Timber Creek.”

“Welcome. I am Sam Bunjil. Josiah is somewhere. We are just beginning to build.”

“I’m Eddie. That’s my woman, Katy. This here’s Alf an’ his woman Deb.”

“Wait a few minutes til we stabilize this.”

“OK.”

Sam and Andy nailed planks about waist height along the long sides of the isosceles prism and one at head height on the shortest side.

“That should hold for now. Now, Eddie and Katy and Alf and Deb, tell me of yourselves.”

Over the next hour, Sam learned that Katy was a weaver of baskets and that Deb had completed the two-year diploma in nursing at CDU, starting in the Alice and doing the clinical part in Darwin. Eddie wanted to grow things, but had been told that was “woman’s work,” so he took care of horses for Victoria Downs Station. Alf worked for Victoria River Cruises and had met Deb when he’d had a serious cut.