Chapter 2

Back by the tents we found the students chatting.

"Have you gathered any food?" They looked sheepish. "Do you know how to identify bush tucker? You said you were going to subsist on it for three days – two nights. It's not even three hours!" She wasn't being kind. One of the girls looked as though she were going to cry. I thought I might stay out of the discussion.

"Gordy!"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you see anything edible?"

"Well, there was that taipan, but I'm not certain they're tasty. There might be a perentie, but otherwise you'll be dependent on the tribes for meat and yabbies. But there's lots of vegetation. We're too far north to find quandong. But there are ooray over there." I pointed.

"Ooray?"

"Davidson's plum. And there's warrigal greens, but those have to be boiled. They've got more oxalic acid than spinach does. And there's midyim and lemon myrtle. And, of course, bunya."

"Top marks, again, Gordy."

"Thanks. I'd make breakfast tea from the myrtle. But the best thing will be feasting at the corroboree."

"What's midyim?"

"That small shrub over there. It's a bit early, but there should be some fruit. They're small blue-grey fruits."

"Will we really get to the corroboree?"

"Yes. But you'll have to behave. And the ladies need to wear something with sleeves and no revealing necklines," added the prof.

"Hunh?"

"The available females will be topless. Some may wear only a string skirt. If you aren't fully clothed, some young male will assume you're 'available.' And it'll be tough to say 'no' once he's put you on your back." The chubbier student gasped. "Oh, and no pointing nor giggling. Tonight there will be feasting and poetry and music. The young men will be ... uh ... window shopping. Tomorrow night will be selection time and once it begins, you four should get to the tents. You're included, Louis, there might be a widow on the prowl."

"That would get my folks!"

"Anyway, you two, out of the t-shirts and button up. Then we'll go to the feast."

I could already hear a didgeridoo. It must be a small one, as it was high-pitched. A moment or so later a lower drone added in. And I could hear some bilma [clapsticks], too.

"Hear them warming up," I said when the two students re-emerged. The graduate student had been wearing a bush shirt.

"Oooh, I'd love to try to play one!"

"Not bloody likely," Louis exclaimed. He had just put on a jacket.

"Why not?"

"I read that these folks believe there are consequences for women who play a didgeridoo, including infertility. I wouldn't let my daughter touch one, if I had a daughter," he said. "I reckon it's the equivalent of encouraging someone to play with razor blades."

"Good marks for you on this, Louis!"

"Thanks."

I noticed the chubbier student edge closer to Louis. "You'll protect me from the young men, won't you?"

"As long as you keep the widows away," he laughed. Well, I thought, I guess he's done it.

"Okay, let's go. Gordy, you lead – that's appropriate."

In a few minutes we were back at the clearing. "Your band, Gordy?"

"Yes, Carol. May I speak to a leader? Or to the nungungi?" She nodded. "Stay where you are until we get approval," I said. Carol was on her way back with an older man wearing a grey kangaroo skin.

"I greet you, nungungi kangaroo. I am Gordy. The young man is Louis. The women are ours. We bring you this and hope to see your feast." I handed him my tobacco.

"This kangaroo greets you all. Eat and make music with us." We clasped hands, he nodded and left.

"Wow!"

"Yes, wow. Thanks, Gordy. I could not have asked for more."

We found space at the periphery of the clearing. I noted that there was a reasonably-sized cooking area to one side. "Louis, come with me," I said and started walking. Carol met us nearby.

"Thank you, Carol. The nungungi kangaroo has bid us welcome. Can we have food for six?"

"Cannot your women serve their men?"

"They do not understand very much. That is why I have brought them here. The stories and the poetry will teach them."

"You are wiser than your age, I think."

"Perhaps I am older than you think."

We took several bark plates back to the others.

"Okay. These are yabbies. This is meat. It might be 'roo; it might be dog; possibly sheep. Might be emu leg, but I don't think so. These are nuts. These are cakes of nut flour. These are honey ants." I sat down with a plate, my back to a tree.

"Remember. Eat with your fingers. Lick your fingers. Yabbie shells and heads go back on a plate. We'll dump them into the fire, later." She sat down next to me. We ate, and several more didgeridoos joined in, along with more clapsticks. After a while the nungungi stood up. He wore only his tassel and the skin. His face was now painted as were his scars. He was boned man.