Eric Willmot - Pemulwuy: The Rainbow Warrior

T he pastel lake lay at ease on the evening tide. The streamers of the long Australian summer formed magic patterns about the little rocky islet of the moon. Kiraban stood at the mouth of the sea, his body forming a part of the shadowed headlands. He heard the voice of the sea, the cry of the birds, and now a strange clinking, knocking sound. This new sound came from the dark object which rested on the twilight waters at the lakes entrance. This, thought Kiraban, was the alien thing that had come from the sea.

The excluded young men of the Awabakal people had spent a lot of time lately along the seafront. They worked at fishing and gathered the beach coal for their fires. They filled their nights with the hot tarry smell of this hidden energy of their land. They told jokes, lies and sometimes even the truth. Some of them still worked and played among the mischievous spirits of childhood, but they had all begun to dream of manhood and of their coming winter status among their families.

Some of the young men talked lately of the alien sea things that had come to this hidden coast. Some of the older people who had seen them referred to them as sea islands.

At first sight they appeared like small clouds on the horizon. Only a short time ago one had come close to the shore. It was obviously a boat, and extraordinarily large. It had a crew of many people and seemed to be driven only by the wind. This strange object had disappeared along the coast in the direction of the summer.

The sea thing must have returned and come to rest in a narrow tidal inlet that joined Lake Awaba to the sea. This was a special place for Kiraban, a site belonging to his father, and he always visited it alone.

Kiraban was quietly amazed to see so many fires come to life on the ship as the darkness settled. It must be very large, he thought. Awabakal people sometimes carried fire pots or torches to keep away the mosquitoes and sandflies when fishing in rivers and creeks. But so many fires, he thought, must be very difficult to manage.

Kiraban felt urged to run immediately and tell his companions. He feared, though, that the thing might return again to the sea and make him a liar. He decided to wait until dawn.

During the night he dozed off to sleep and the spirit of the site moved his mind to dream of a place where the aliens lived. He saw himself walk among them and imagined that he could converse with them. He awoke and sang of his dream. During the long night he heard odd, mournful clanging noises.

At first light he was awakened by a new and active sound. He saw a small, canoe-like vessel being propelled by paddles to the shore. Kiraban quickly fitted a spear to his spear-thrower and flexed the assembly. He moved quietly to a hidden place, close to where the boat would land. The boat was really quite large by Awabakal standards and very solidly built. As it touched the shore, a group of aliens alighted and secured it by a long rope.

These were indeed strange people. Solidly built and heavily clothed in remarkable materials.