was corrugated by deep lines of age and weather, matching the gullies and ravines of his country. Depending on his mood, those lines could tighten into a ferocious snarl only the foolhardy would challenge or relax into a spontaneous winning smile. His moods could change in a flash, keeping anyone he encountered on constant alert. His eyes reflected the accumulated wisdom of his people going back to the Dreamtime and the sharpness of the hunters who had survived in this country for tens of thousands of years.
With those eyes he watched the bird sweeping in, losing height as if it was reaching exhaustion and could fly no further. As it grew slowly in size, he could see the lumps on its wings like the tumours he had seen sometimes on the animals he hunted. He realised that this was a metal bird of the white man. He had only ever seen one close up at the mission, a small one with two wings and one engine. This one was bigger and even from so far away he could sense its power. He felt the anguish of its final throes, but was still in awe of the bird as it swept in lower and lower. It reminded him of a swan sorely hit by a throwing stick and staggering away to die.
He watched as the bird descended below his height. Just as the pulsating throb of the engine began to hammer at his ears, the sound died away. He saw the paddle blades appear from nowhere, like the magic of the spirits, as the propellers stopped spinning. The bird slowly raised its nose as it prepared to alight on the mud flats. Its tail kicked a spray of mud into the air and then the nose slammed down onto the mud. The bird slid across the mudflat and scythed its way into the trees and scrub with the ripping, vicious sound of snapping trunks and branches before finally coming to rest.
After silence descended once again on his country he waited patiently, contemplating the invasion by the white man’s bird and the stories he had heard of the conflict happening beyond the horizon. Eventually, he detected movement below him as something crawled out of the bird’s belly. He heard a faint wailing cry of distress and fear.
Ungondangery, feared wild man, cattle hunter and man killer, now had a decision to make, one he pondered carefully before dropping his left foot back onto the rock of the bluff.
Chapter Four
Jamie Kirk leans his lanky figure on the bar and lifts a beer in salute before taking a long sip. Jed acknowledges him with a similar salute. Jamie is an ex-student, doing a Masters in Environmental Science at the University of Tasmania and heading for a PhD. His background is biology and geology. He has taken a couple of gap years to tour Northern Australia, first-hand experience that will be valuable in furthering his goals. The possibilities for him in the gas and mineral developments hold a lot of promise, but he also has a passion for research.
His jeans, long curls framing strong, chiselled features and patched jacket camouflage a solid personality and keen intellect. They swap stories about the desert and hunting. Jamie retells his favourite story about bow hunting wild pigs in the Territory and Jed responds with one of his own.
“She’s too young and immature for you Jamie,” Jed offers as he sees where Jamie’s dark brown eyes are focussed. “The brunette at your four o’clock has been watching you though. She could be a bit older than you but looks like she has a brain. Could match you or even do you over when you see the book she has in her bag.”
Jamie shakes his head to flick the long flowing curls out of his eyes and reaches around to slip out his wallet. He takes the opportunity for a quick glance. The woman meets his eyes briefly, giving a quick smile before looking away to continue chatting to her girlfriend.
Jamie turns back to Jed. “Nanotechnology! That I have to explore. Let’s do business so I can cut you loose,” he says decisively. “I took a good look at the photos and slides you sent me. The geology I can see in the
With those eyes he watched the bird sweeping in, losing height as if it was reaching exhaustion and could fly no further. As it grew slowly in size, he could see the lumps on its wings like the tumours he had seen sometimes on the animals he hunted. He realised that this was a metal bird of the white man. He had only ever seen one close up at the mission, a small one with two wings and one engine. This one was bigger and even from so far away he could sense its power. He felt the anguish of its final throes, but was still in awe of the bird as it swept in lower and lower. It reminded him of a swan sorely hit by a throwing stick and staggering away to die.
He watched as the bird descended below his height. Just as the pulsating throb of the engine began to hammer at his ears, the sound died away. He saw the paddle blades appear from nowhere, like the magic of the spirits, as the propellers stopped spinning. The bird slowly raised its nose as it prepared to alight on the mud flats. Its tail kicked a spray of mud into the air and then the nose slammed down onto the mud. The bird slid across the mudflat and scythed its way into the trees and scrub with the ripping, vicious sound of snapping trunks and branches before finally coming to rest.
After silence descended once again on his country he waited patiently, contemplating the invasion by the white man’s bird and the stories he had heard of the conflict happening beyond the horizon. Eventually, he detected movement below him as something crawled out of the bird’s belly. He heard a faint wailing cry of distress and fear.
Ungondangery, feared wild man, cattle hunter and man killer, now had a decision to make, one he pondered carefully before dropping his left foot back onto the rock of the bluff.
Chapter Four
Jamie Kirk leans his lanky figure on the bar and lifts a beer in salute before taking a long sip. Jed acknowledges him with a similar salute. Jamie is an ex-student, doing a Masters in Environmental Science at the University of Tasmania and heading for a PhD. His background is biology and geology. He has taken a couple of gap years to tour Northern Australia, first-hand experience that will be valuable in furthering his goals. The possibilities for him in the gas and mineral developments hold a lot of promise, but he also has a passion for research.
His jeans, long curls framing strong, chiselled features and patched jacket camouflage a solid personality and keen intellect. They swap stories about the desert and hunting. Jamie retells his favourite story about bow hunting wild pigs in the Territory and Jed responds with one of his own.
“She’s too young and immature for you Jamie,” Jed offers as he sees where Jamie’s dark brown eyes are focussed. “The brunette at your four o’clock has been watching you though. She could be a bit older than you but looks like she has a brain. Could match you or even do you over when you see the book she has in her bag.”
Jamie shakes his head to flick the long flowing curls out of his eyes and reaches around to slip out his wallet. He takes the opportunity for a quick glance. The woman meets his eyes briefly, giving a quick smile before looking away to continue chatting to her girlfriend.
Jamie turns back to Jed. “Nanotechnology! That I have to explore. Let’s do business so I can cut you loose,” he says decisively. “I took a good look at the photos and slides you sent me. The geology I can see in the
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