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was one thing Peggy enjoyed, going out with the old people to forage for minyara (wild onion) and kulyu (wild yams).
    She liked the winter days here. The clear bright warm, sort of lazy, days. This is the time when the honey flowers are out. These bunches of golden yellow flowers are collected from the desert oaks. The nectar from these flowers is shaken into the palms of the hands or soaked in a bucket of water to make a sweet refreshing drink.
    All the game caught was cooked in hot ashes. Peggy agreed that this was the only way “bush tucker” should be cooked and eaten. She really looked forward to the weekends—if only for the chance to camp out under the stars. The night sky seemed brighter somehow, and the stars bigger. This was certainly the part of Aboriginal culture she enjoyed the most.
    One thing she could not understand. “Why do the old people keep all those dogs?” she asked her mother. Some were alright, but a few of them were the mangiest dogs she ever saw.
    â€œThe old people always had a lot of dogs. They tell them if anyone, you know, stranger fullahs, come close to camp,” explained Lucy.
    â€œThey tell the old people if ‘dgingarbil’, feather foot man, come too close,” said Lucy. “Dginagarbil are mans who chase and kill people who break Mardu Law. They move nighttime in the dark.”
    In the summer months Patricia and Peggy rode to the various windmills around the property to swim in the windmill tanks or the small pools in the surrounding creeks. The girls were inseparable.
    During the milder weather when the wild flowers were in full bloom the pair packed picnic lunches and rodeto different locations each time so that Peggy could enjoy the seasonal changes.
    Lucy was justly proud of her seventeen year old daughter. She had grown into a beautiful woman, reminding her so much of Mick. Only yesterday she had a very private talk with “the missus” and asked her to act as matchmaker to find a suitable husband for Peggy.
    â€œI don’t want a Mardu (fullblood) boy to marry with my daughter,” said Lucy, her voice barely audible, fearing others may overhear her conversation with Mrs Forbes. Everyone, including Dr and Matron Callahan, Mal and Anne Forbes, convinced Lucy that her beautiful intelligent daughter deserved much better, by their standards obviously. Lucy’s own marriage had been both enriching and fulfilling and she imagined and hoped for the same for her only daughter, Peggy.
    â€œI want Muda, Muda (half-caste) boy—same as my girl—you know, one read and write, or a good Wudgebella (white man)—not Mardu,” she added quietly.
    Mrs Forbes promised to help. Mrs Forbes was in regular contact with women on neighbouring stations who could have suitable half-caste station hands working on their properties. She would begin by contacting other stations and making discreet inquiries over the pedal set (wireless/radio).
    Lucy’s Auntie Minda, a bad tempered old lady, admonished her for letting “the missus” try to make Peggy into a Wudgebella Wandi (white girl).
    â€œYou bring ’em back to camp. This place here,” she said, pounding the ground with her warda (digging stick) for emphasis, “and sit down (stay) here.”
    Her high pitched, loud, rasping voice was heard all over the camp. This is another custom. Individuals are encouraged to exercise this right. This prevents any spreading of malicious gossip. There is no room for secretivenessin a traditional Aboriginal community. Meetings are called where everyone attends, either to listen and learn or to participate, whatever the case may be.
    â€œWe don’t want Peggy to go ’nother way (with strangers to a strange land or place) and lose ’em for good (go away and not return), ” said Auntie Minda.
    Unaware of the concern she had caused down at the camp, Peggy had ridden out with Patricia towards the old copper mine to the