Authors: Ed Hillyer
âAhem⦓were drowned”.'
Sarah found the rattling of the window-frame distracting. Apart from anything else, she worried the noise might disturb her father.
âWould you mind awfully shutting the window?' she said. âJust for a while.'
Brippoki took a moment to comprehend that she no longer read from the manuscript. He jolted forward from his seat, happy to comply. As he approached the casement the curtain billowed up to meet him.
The window had been left partially open all day in order to air the front parlour: it had seemed hardly surprising when Brippoki entered in that same way, unannounced, and at his customary late hour. Sarah began to appreciate there were certain benefits to this arrangement.
âThank you,' she said. âNow, where were we?'
At our arrival at Port Jackson we found Captain Flinders, who had lost His Majesty's Ship
Porpoise
. He immediately took the schooner and turned all the
crew on shore. Taking with him as many of the men that he could stow in her, Captain Flinders sailed for England, leaving behind him half his ship's company. I was left on shore with the crew. I then took on me the duty of a police officer.
Sarah tilted one eyebrow in exaggerated fashion.
I did not hold this office long, for one day I made a seizure of spirits. No sooner had I got it in my possession but drinked it, for which crime I was sent to hard labour for six months.
Before I had been one month at this labour, a quarrel rose between the Englishmen and Irishmen. I was one of the Englishmen that was in the fight. The battle lasted four hours. One of the Englishmen was past recovery. Several of the Irish was in the same state. The battle ended at night. The next morning when enquiry was made who was the first aggressor, the Irishmen with their false oaths soon turned the Englishmen. I was one of the number that was found guilty. I was sentenced to 200 lashes.
When the time appointed for my punishment was come, I made my escape into the wilderness. It was in the evening when I made my escape from the hand of my tyrant.
Bruce had run from a flogging, just as he had when a small boy, in London.
The first night I slept without fear.
Sarah noticed another recurrence, but only because Brippoki had reacted so strongly to it before. Following his fall from the treetops, and his bleeding from every orifice, Bruce had slept a fortnight through. His prodigious, death-like sleep echoed a similar occasion, the âextraordinary advent' at his birth.
Ever since the earlier reading, Brippoki had been distracted, jumpy. Sarah knew better than to expect any explanation. His spirits were palpably intense, but she could not, it seemed, know his reasons â if reason even prevailed. At every pause, she searched the mysterious depths of his dark eyes, and wondered how she might unlock their secrets.
Compared to the state in which she had found him the previous evening, he had at least flattened down his hair, and straightened his ragged clothing. He had also cleaned the supper dish.
The next morning at the appearing of the blessed light from Heaven, I was awakened with the melodious voices of the beautiful birds whom God had made. Here, for the first time, I looked in the lap of Nature, and there I found God in His power and His Wisdom, His Knowledge and his Mercy. I rose and began my pilgrimage.
I went on my travels through the woods. In the evening I promiscuously met a man who was a settler. He asked me where I was going. I told him:
â To look for work.
He employed me and that night introduced me to two men that he was supporting in the day time; and in return, at night, those two men went to the different settlements thieving, and brought him the stolen property. He also told me that it would be better for me to join them than anything he could recommend me to. I consented and went with them.
Every night, we used to go to the different stock-yards belonging to the Government, stealing sheep, goats, pigs and geese, ducks, fowls â or anything we could catch. In a few days after, we were joined with three more poor miserable sinners like myself. Now being six in number, we went on in a most dreadful way of thieving.
âMost horrid and dreadful,' Brippoki confirmed, his expression grave.
Indeed â what progress for a pilgrim, from policeman to a rustler of livestock.
â
Premiskisly
', the original text had said. âI promiscuously met a man.' How old would Bruce be? She guessed not far off twenty years of age. The man he met in the woods had turned out another Fagin, and he had fallen into bad company.
In about two months after, one of my late companions proposed to go to one of his friends to procure some tobacco and salt for all the gain. It was agreed on, and that night we all accompanied him to the border of the settlement, where he told us that his acquaintance lived. We gave him half a sheep to present to his friends. He took his departure from us with that vow to bring us what we then stood in need of. But alas, he betrayed us all. For by this time there was a most desperate hue and cry throughout the whole country, and great rewards for all our lives. And when his friends told him this, he went to the police and put them in a way how to take our lives.
Her energies flagging, Sarah struggled to interpret her own scrawl.
The plot being laid, he returned to us. We then went to our place of abode in the wood and there remained till the next night, which was the time that this Judas appointed for our lives to be taken. The tent which we all sleep in, it was in a thick part of the wood, so that no person could get to it without great difficulty, and before it was a large fire from which the heat came so strong that we could not bear any clothing. We were all naked. It was to be so. I could not sleep, for that Great and Merciful God, in whom I put all my trust and hope, He never left me in all my distresses. O my dear brothers, that I could display to you all in net that lively faith I have in that God who made and Created me, then you would not be surprised when you came to hear how many times I have escaped from the hand of my enemies, who sought my life and thirsted after my blood. Nay, I was in Hell, but the blessed Lord Jesus Christ brought me out of it.
Sarah glanced up, to gauge what effect, if any, the impromptu preaching might have on Brippoki. Hunched in concentration, he listened â intent as always â but made no sign.
About the midnight hour I thought I heard the sound of a human foot. I with the greatest of care began to awaken the untimely mortals who lay by my side asleep. But the poor weak-hearted creature, who well knew his appointed time to which he had betrayed all our lives, he momently jumped up to his feet and began to shout as loud as he could, and immediately jumped over the fire. This was his agreement with the police officers on the night he first betrayed us, but he was deceived, for half went over the fire and half run through the thick part of the woods. Those three that went over the fire was immediately taken, and in a few days two of them was executed.
As soon as I got through the thick woods it began to rain, and the night turned so dark that I was glad to sit down by a large tree, where I remained till the morning. I had with me two of the untimely creatures. It was in the wintertime, so that my joints was set with the cold that in the morning, when to rise, I could not, till I was helped by both of the men that was with me. We were all naked.
Sarah shifted uneasily in her seat. The imagery of men, naked, lost in the woods, evoked something primeval. If the Australian Bush was the Garden of Eden, then these lost souls had been cast into the outer darkness, into a wilderness of night.
But as soon as I recovered myself, I then went on my travels through the woods, for a settlement named Prospect, which we made in a day and a night's journey. Our legs and feet was tore in a most dreadful manner by the brambles and briars. There lived a man at this place in whom I thought I could trust my life with the greatest of confidence, but alas when I entered in his house his very countenance displayed the Judas heart that he had in his bosom. Now the Devil had locked his jaw as he does all his servants when he finds their labour in vain. That morning saw the grand archangel with his flaming sword in his hand guarding my poor sinful soul. However, the body of destruction that he had for a partner, she told me that anything I wanted of her husband he would it immediately. I then asked him to go to George Pell that lived in Towngabby.
â
Toongabbe
,' said Brippoki suddenly.
âToonâ¦' she repeated. âHow do you say it?'
â
Toongabbe
. Place near water.'
The suggestion that Bruce travelled through country Brippoki was familiar with excited Sarah beyond measure. She read on even faster.
I told him to tell Pell that I and two more men was naked and I wanted clothing for all three. Luker then took his departure from us, and we returned into the wood, carrying with us a large cake made of flour, and a good piece of pork, which his wife had gave us. As we was lamenting the horrid state, almost perished with the cold it being in the depth of winter, we being all naked and as ravenous as wolves with the hunger, one of my unfortunate companions asked me if I know any more of the settlers. I told him I did, for during the
time I had been with Dr Caley collecting insects, that I had been from one end to the other of all the settlements that Government had.
Farr said:
â Alas my dear boy, your travelling was different then to what it is now. When you was with Dr Caley you was free to travel, but now all our lives is in danger.
âThis is one of his companions,' Sarah explained, âa man called Farr, whose speech is here reported. And here Bruce makes answerâ¦' She assumed a different voice.
â Well, faith, what you say is right. But let me ask you, don't you think that I was in as much danger when I have been all hours of the night collecting curiosities? For you know, Farr, that there is plenty of snakes in the wood, and wild beast that would devour a man. But, Farr, you think of the danger that our lives is in by the laws of man, but you don't think on that Great and Merciful God that brought us three out of the gulf of Hell. I mean, Farr, the night before last night: how that providential God brought us out of the hands of our enemies. Farr? Don't despair, God is good.
Brippoki was nodding.
Farr said:
â You astonish me, Bruce, with your discourse, and I am sure that God has gave you a great gift. But it is no time for preaching now.
Sarah allowed herself a wry smile. âBruce replies again.'
â Well, Farr, both of you are very cold. Come, let us go and I will take you to a house where you both will get a good warm at the fire. For my part, thank God, I am quite hot.
Brippoki sat suitably agog. This was as well: sorting out dialogue scenes from a single breathless paragraph had taken up much of Sarah's day.
The handwriting at this point had taken on a noticeably different character. It looked to be the work of the same hand, in bigger, bolder print. Maybe nothing more than a fresh writing implement â but if George Bruce, strangely warmed, was beginning to rave, as it appeared, then the note-taker would have been required to write faster, just to keep up.
I then went to the house of Joshua Peck, where we was received in a most efficacious manner. Mr Peck immediately brought us some old rags to cover our nakedness. Mrs Peck having a large family of children she burst into tears, and taking me by the hand and kissed me, she also told me that Joseph Luker was going to inform the soldiers and police officers that we were on that spot, and she expected them every moment.
â Mrs Peck, you surprise me, for I sent him to George Pell to bring me clothing for us three.
Mrs Peck said:
â Yes, my dear child, I know. For he came to this house to light his pipe about an hour ago. And he told me and my husband that his wife had gave you three bread and meat enough for one day. But he exclaimed that it should be the last that you should eat, for he would have you all shot that day before twelve o'clock, and he swore a most desperate bloody oath.
I said:
â Well probably that oath may be his end. Come, Farr and Meredith, let us go. You hear what is said. Goodbye, Mrs Peck. God bless you for what you have done for us men this morning.
Sarah modulated her voice a little higher, to signify the change of speaker back to Mrs Peck.
â Goodbye, dear children. But you had better go up on that high hill and stop for a little while, to satisfy yourselves with the truth in respect of what I have told you of Luker. I thenâ¦
No, Bruce had resumed his narrative.
Sudden weariness threatened to overtake Sarah. She had been working hard for far too long. It was time to speed things to a close.
I then took my leave of this bright and efficacious soul Mrs Peck, and complying with her last sentiments I went on the said high hill above mentioned, and in a short time I was perfectly convinced of what I had heard of Luker. For I see him with about 30 more poor untimely creatures like himself, filing through the woods on search of my life, and the other two poor wretches that was with me. Now they danced round the house of my dear loving sister Peck, just like the serpent round the garden of Job, when God gave him permission to tempt Job.
Here my weary bowels yearned, when I saw the deception of mankind one to the other.
Sarah closed her notebook. There was more, but her voice had begun to give out.
âI'd like you to meet me, just across the street, tomorrow morning at a nine o'clock,' she said, smartly. âWill you do that?'
Brippoki nodded, mutely.
Sarah stood, and indicated the window.
âVery good then,' she said. âUntil tomorrow.'
Friday the 5th of June, 1868
‘For in and out, above, about, below,
’Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
Play’d in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.’
~ Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
Crestfallen, Brippoki returns to his nest on the roof. The previous night, his audience with the Guardian and Deadman ended, he had never left the house, but crawled up over the eaves and out of sight; collapsing, at long last, into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Brippoki tucks himself again into that same recess, out of the chill winds.
Having slept there for much of the day, he can do no more than rest awhile. Some hours before dawn, he drifts into the Dreaming.
The paper yabber makes him liver-sick with memory, of stringy bark, gum and peppermint trees, towering above dogwood, tea-tree, and honeysuckle. Brippoki yearns for an open landscape, the rhythm of a different drum. His belly misses more than ever the sugar-bags,
nardoo
and witchety grubs, all proper
oonjoo
. He tongues for them.
The night is crisp and clear. It has been two and two and one more dark since he last saw the face of
Mityan
, hunter moon. Thin and hungry then, Brippoki worried that He had since wasted all away. The hunter has only been Walkabout, trailing the game He has eaten all up.
Mityan
is back, and blazes, full-up
bingee
.
The bright sky tastes sharp of another moonlit night, when the elders had stolen him away. The boy inside should have died the next day, and been reborn a man – an entirely different being, worthy of both new appearance and new name – a proud warrior of the
Wudjubalug
.
His people.
Where are they now – his father? His mother? Where, his brothers and sisters? More than a world away – their souls belong to another place.
Seeing as it is a full moon, and in an effort to cheer himself, Brippoki starts to sing the hunting song of
Wile
, the opossum.
‘Kawemukka minnurappindo, Durtikarro minnurappindo,
Tarralye minnurappindo, Wimmari minnurappindi!
Kirki minnurappindo
…’
‘If pris’ner in a foreign land,
no friend, no money at command…’
Brippoki hesitates, before continuing.
‘…Wattetarpirri minnurappindo…’
‘That man thou trusted hast alone,
All knowledge of thee should disown…’
There it is again, distorted by echo. A man’s voice, much harsher than his own, and yet faint from being carried on the wind unknowable distance.
‘…Worrikarro…’
‘If this should vex thee to the core,
I prithee Messmate stay ashore,
There like a lubber whine and blubber
Still for thy ease and safety busy.’
‘…minnurappin…do…’
‘Nor dare to come where honest Tom,
and Ned and Nick, and Ben and Phil,
and Jack and Dick and Bob and Bill
All weathers sing and drink the swizzy!’
As the rough and roaring voice launches into a chorus, the whistling wind snatches it away, just as suddenly as it had arrived – a raucous sailor song, the likes of which Brippoki heard aplenty while on board the
Parramatta
. The good Captain Williams preferred to teach them only church hymns.
Brippoki advances a step or two, meaning to follow, only to halt and think better of it.
A full moon, and yet – he is not the hunter.
Listening out for some feather-light tread not his own, he sets off in an opposite direction.
~
Dear…
Dear Charles,
Setting pen to paper, Sarah Larkin wrote to remind the Royal Naval clerk of his ‘kind and generous’ offer. She declared the manuscript found, outlined a little of the extra detail discovered, and requested copies of what, if any, documentation concerning George Bruce might be held at the Admiralty.
Conscience kept returning her to the top line, entirely too familiar for her tastes. She hardly knew the man, and in all honesty preferred it that way: it would be wrong for her to encourage him.
A formal address would be best.
Dear Charles,
Sir,
Sarah scrapped the letter and started again.
Half an hour later, her endeavours completed, she crossed Great
Russell-street
to the posting-box outside No.38. She had forgotten her gloves. Feet balancing on the edge of the kerb, poised to return, she found herself looking up at No.89 as if a stranger to it.
A relic of the Regency era, their house was typical of its kind: five storeys tall, including the cellar floor, and narrow, perhaps only 25 or 30 feet wide at the most. A terraced property, simply constructed, it had but two main rooms to each storey. Two and sometimes three windows at the front overlooked the street. Those at the back faced the unattended yard behind.
Wavering, unsteady, Sarah examined each floor in turn. John Epps, physician, occupied the ground and below-ground floors and, as landlord, owned the entirety. On the first floor, at the front, was their parlour, or lounge, the kitchen and a small bathroom out of sight at the back. Directly above was her father’s bedroom; his study at the front now largely neglected. The top front room of the house was her bedroom, with the maids’ former sleeping quarters behind. The sweep of the stairwell, towards the rear of the house, significantly reduced the breadth of each back room.
Though she searched it for any sort of associate feeling, her heart was empty. Bodies filled the crossing, buffeting her as they bustled past. Still she stood, eventually staring into the open sky. A beautiful clear day, the clouds were gone: her wish granted.
Another break in the traffic – without further ado she hurried on.
As she approached the Museum, the figure of Brippoki appeared as if by magic. The moment he separated from the crowd, Sarah noticed a wild glint in his eye.
‘I’m sorry if last night ended somewhat abruptly,’ she said. ‘Only I felt so very tired all of a sudden.’
He said nothing. She walked on, almost immediately turning.
‘Thank you,’ she added, ‘for agreeing to join me this morning.’
Without comment Sarah handed him another pair of her father’s shoes, stockings too. Brippoki accepted them obediently. As he bent to slip the shoes on, she saw his left trouser leg, half torn entirely away. The bottoms were shredded beyond repair, impossible even to tie with bowyangs. She couldn’t give away Lambert’s entire wardrobe!
They stood alongside the tall black railings, shortly before the main gates to the British Museum.
‘I thought we might take a look at the manuscript together,’ announced Sarah. ‘The original.’ She took care not to pronounce it a suggestion: her mind was made up.
Through the gates, they approached the main building. She flourished a sheaf of notes. ‘For ease of reference,’ she said, ‘I have prepared an abstract of Bruce’s story. As a ranger in the wilderness, for instance, he collected insects for a Dr Caley.’
As they closed with the Museum steps, the broad shadow of the looming building fell across Brippoki. He appeared to jolt.
‘This,’ said Sarah quickly, ‘was most likely Dr George Caley, botanist and explorer, a
protégé
of Sir Joseph Banks…’ She regretted the foreign term. ‘His student, I should say.’
The Aborigine’s wild eyes widened further. She was losing him.
‘Toongabbe, as you say, was the base for his activities at this time.’ She spiked the familiar word like bait to a hook.
Before they could mount the steps leading up to the main entrance, Brippoki dug in his heels. Determined to achieve her goal, Sarah skipped ahead, talking faster. ‘The Governor General of the colony was a Major Francis…Grose…’ Keen to egg him on, she made a slight return.
‘Thara,’ he said. ‘No go there.’
‘It’s all right,’ she cooed. ‘It’s a Friday. The general public are admitted.’
She held out her hand to him. Brippoki retreated a step backwards, violently shaking his head.
Honestly! He was just like herself at three years old, being forced to attend church.
‘Brippoki!’ she said. ‘I’ll still take notes! I just want you to see for yourself…’
His head shaking all the faster, he looked ready to bolt. Sarah smiled, kindly. ‘Not being able to read is nothing to be ashamed of,’ she said.
She thought she was being very clever, but misread him completely. His hands waved, imploring, in the air. She suddenly grasped one in her own. As shocking to him as it was to her, their flesh touched. They sprang apart.
‘Not enter dat place,’ he insisted. Without raising his voice at all, Brippoki spoke with ultimate conviction. ‘Place for dead men,’ he spat.
‘A “place for”…? A few days ago you led me into a graveyard!’ she protested. ‘How could this be any worse?’
This hollow mountain does not exist in his Dreaming. And as for what lies inside…
Guruwari
.
Brippoki thrusts his chin forward, underscoring his decision with one final shake of the head.
Turning a deaf ear to the Guardian’s cries, he jogs swiftly away.
With a slight tug of resentment, Sarah pulled the manuscript from the
ad libitum
shelves, where it nestled between two taller, slimmer volumes,
A Lecture on the Extreme Folly and Danger of Servants Going on Errands before they are Sent
, and
The Adventures of a Pincushion
.
Ungrateful heathen, more stubborn-headed than a mule – if he had only agreed to accompany her, Brippoki might then have seen for himself what lay ahead, and given her some vital direction. It would have made her present task so much easier.
Rather than resume the transcript, she went over her abstract, and continued researching the related gazetteer.
Bruce and his
Life
dated back to the very earliest days of settlement. Major Francis Grose, Commandant of the New South Wales Corps, had arrived in the colony in 1792: acting governor on first Governor Phillip’s departure, he soon retired, due to ill-health, in 1794.
Matthew Flinders, English navigator and explorer, was the first to circumnavigate Van Diemen’s Land, and the man said by some to have given Australia its name. The
Memoirs
asserted that Bruce had sailed with Flinders; the
Life
gave the impression he had not. Which was false?
With regard to lesser individuals, common settlers – a few previous acquaintances of Bruce in some capacity or other (fellow convicts on board the
Royal Admiral
perhaps?) – they would have already been forgotten by history. Starting on a fresh page, Sarah anyway initiated an entry list.
George PELL
Joshua PECK (‘joshsire peck’) or PEEK, variously
Joseph LUKER
Sarah tapped her teeth with her pencil.
She had imagined the Aborigine’s skin would be hot to the touch, and damp. It was entirely opposite: smooth, certainly, not unlike the dark wood it
best resembled, but also cold, and dry. She knew what it was: Lambert had once described to her the sensation of handling a snake. Brippoki felt reptilian.
Quitting the Museum grounds directly, Brippoki makes his way south. He feels he must attend to Thara’s advice, in all things. She is the Guardian. In interpreting the words of the dead, he relies on her completely – yet there can be no exchange.
He can see that it hurts and annoys her. But only a fool would further risk the wrath of the Red Ochre Men. Their sole function is to punish Lawbreakers. Women exist outside of religion. All ceremonies are
meilmeil – tabu
. And if the woman is also whitefellow?
He cannot be certain that two wrongs make a right.
No longer following the compulsive paths of his nights’ Dreaming, he prefers to stick close to those regions best resembling them, as the Guardian’s own house does. Elsewhere, everything looks wrong.
Past the burnt black church an endless stream of vehicles confronts him. Hazarding his life more than once, he eventually crosses over. A few streets further south and west and their rolling thunder no longer breaks on his ear with such pain.
All burial-places are liable to be haunted by evil spirits, and therefore to be avoided. The brick holes rich with wine, the ancient oak, the walking beneath the water; the city is riddled with such portals. The graveyard, too, was filled with trees, rich with links between Lowerworld, earth, and sky. Allowing himself to be led there before was a mistake, quite possibly compounded by leading a woman there in turn.
And now, in trying to lead him inside the mountain, the Guardian further diverts him from a wise course.
Any person, when guiding a stranger through their country, is often required to misdirect them. They must be led away from sites of spiritual significance. Were their situations reversed, he would do the same.
Here, in this place, the cold stone smothers all life. Somewhere beneath the stone sleeps the earth. Earth, giver of life, of a man’s food, the repository of his spirit and thought, whose gentle embrace awaits him on the day he will die.
In an entire city of the dead, it is hard to know where to begin, and when to end. But even within these mystery parameters, there are limits.
To trespass on their sacred sites is something he cannot afford.
‘Chestnuts all ’ot, a penny a score!’
‘Buy, buy, buy, buy, BU-U-UY!’
‘Fish, fried fish! Ha’penny. Fish, fried fish!’
‘D’you want me, Jack?’