Published: 24 Jun 2024

Late season storms had kept the boys from hunting for two days, although with the humidity it was never cold and the rain was welcoming for not having to water every day. During the early morning Warrin is seen at the edge of the clearing on his way to hunt for turtles in the creek. He is wearing a rope girdle to carry his catch and for once not completely naked wearing a narga, a native lap-lap made from woven river grass, although with each step he takes nothing is left to the imagination. With the rain his dark skin glistened like velvet.

“That is what makes up different,” Daniel curiously says from his advantage at the hut’s doorway while watching Warrin.

“Makes us different from what?”

“Us and the blacks, wearing clothes is the most of what makes us different.”

“True to a point.”

“I suppose it also makes us different from animals.”

“I would say even people are animals of sorts.”

Daniel is giggling while his eyes are on Ding licking at a small leg wound received while running through the thick undergrowth. The dog then licks at its balls.

“Are you going to share?”

“I was watching Ding licking his balls. Do you know what makes we people different from other animals?”

“I should think I’m about to find out.”

“We are the only animal that doesn’t use the tongue to wash our genitals.”

Axel doesn’t appear amused.

“I thought it was funny,” Daniel protests.

“It was worth a smile. What brought that on?”

“I was thinking about the natives going naked even when in town and how our women titter and pretend to be shocked.”

“They don’t all go naked, some cover their midriffs others wear the narga.”

“True although those who do go naked don’t appear embarrassed with us observing all they have. I would suggest going totally naked is their way of offending us.”

“I should think it has always been that way with them, as it is with us wearing clothing. In the most I would say it’s down to the weather,” Axel answers.

“I wonder what native men do when aroused in public, as it would be a little difficult to hide any deviant thought.”

“True.” Axel is also grinning; “do you have deviant thoughts Daniel?”

“Sometimes.”

Axel goes from grinning to teasing; “come on Daniel share them,” he says.

“A man’s deviances should remain mute.”

“I could ask Warrin for you,” Axel suggests.

Daniel diverts, “it’s hot; I wouldn’t mind taking a dip, even with the rain.”

“I wouldn’t yet, you may disturb Warrin’s fishing.”

Daniel becomes quiet.

“What are you thinking?” Axel asks.

“For a moment I was back in London. They say it would be winter now, raining and cold, with the air choked with the smoke from burning coal fires. It may even be snowing and sometimes the river freezes over.”

“How could it be cold in London?”

“I don’t understand the science of it. From what I’m told down here everything is in reverse to England.”

“Upside down; it is a wonder we don’t fall off.”

“If you are religious, you would say god designed it that way.”

Are you religious Daniel?”

“No.”

“Nor am I, although the Reverend Marsden tried his darnedest to make me so. I hear when he arrived in New Zealand to pacify their natives he had a whip in one hand and a bible in the other.”

“Did he whip you?”

“He did take a stick to me a number of times but his words had more sting than any stick.”

Daniel remains the open door, “It is still raining,” he says while extending an arm into the rain as if in proof.

“And still hot,” Axel concurs, “and sticky,” he continues.

Daniel becomes animated, “Get your clothes off.”

“Why?”

“I have the urge to go native and dance naked in the rain.”

“Are you fair-dinkum?”

“Why not?”

Axel rises to his feet, his hand gently on his shirt collar. He pauses, “you first.”

Quickly Daniel removes his clothing.

“Come on,” Daniel demands.

Axel is slow but soon both are naked.

“Now what?”

“We go out in the rain.”

“Like little children the lads are laughing, splashing in puddles, teasing and dancing about like the Whirling Dervish. Daniel stops and points, “your pizzle has got hard.”

“So has yours.”

Again the laughter starts as Warrin returns from the creek. “Sister-boys,” Warrin calls in language, “Saal and Anul sister-boys.”

The merriment stops as the boys hurry inside.

“He saw us,” Daniel nervously gasps as he shuts the door, only to peep through a crack towards Warrin’s departure.

Warrin remains laughing as he passes the corn field.

“Why would that matter?”

“You know.”

“What do I know, Daniel?” Axel is teasing.

“Do I have to say it?” Daniel growls.

“I’m afraid you do.”

“He saw our stiff pizzles.”

“What made you stiff, Daniel?”

“So was yours.”

“Seeing you naked made me stiff,” Axel honestly answers.

“Oh!”

The only sound in the hut is Ding’s whimper to be let out. Axel obliges and opens the door, “I also notice you are rising again.”

“It was your suggestion – stop grinning, it doesn’t help.”

“I could do something about it if you wish,” Axel suggests.

“And I could let you.”

“Come on let’s find somewhere more comfortable.”

If Daniel had declared his preference towards the fairer sex, once beneath the covers it was a different matter, with Daniel being most apt in sharing his body and soon their antics would become an almost daily affair. Making up for lost time Daniel had suggested while keeping to his liking of women. Axel allowed the lad’s confessions to pass without comment.

It was true Axel more than enjoyed their contact. It was equally true he was fond of Daniel, possibly bordering on love but each time they bedded, it was Axel’s painter who powered his emotions, bringing on adage he had once heard, being if you can’t have the one you love, then love the one you are with but love is a many sided emotion that comes with varied levels of desires.

Three weeks had passed since the boys danced in the rain, now the weather was turning dry, sending much of the local game further north towards the rivers and creeks of the uplands. There were still koala’s to hunt, as unlike the macropodidae they didn’t have ability to quickly travel over long distances, besides they received most of their hydration from the foliage they consumed. Also the natives passed by less frequent and the women no longer came to dig for Murnong, as it was growing time to allow abundance for the next harvest. It was only Warrin who was regular and came often to fish in the creek, as he pass by the hut he would be seen laughing and loudly calling sister-boys.

Daniel’s newly found freedom had given the lad a fresh outlook on life, becoming more extroverted, even so he couldn’t apply thought to his future other than hunting. As for Axel’s perception of his friend, it was as if Daniel’s cage door had been left open and he was waiting for the flight. He would ask but didn’t wish to disturb the harmony that had developed between them.

Axel was seated in the morning sun attending to a number of fresh skins, with Daniel helping by salting down the newest.

“That’s done,” Daniel says placing the salt container aside, “what’s next?”

“I would say almost finished for the day.”

Daniel remains seated but pensive. He is watching a large bird hovering in the thermals high about the forest, “What bird is that?” he asks.

“By its look, I would say a wedge-tail eagle.”

“It sure is a big one.”

“I’ve never seen one up close. I’ve been told an adult bird can have a wingspan of more than nine feet.”

“Umm, big,” Daniel says and distracts from the bird high up in the thermals. His attention appears to waver.

“Is there something worrying you Daniel?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You’ve gone quiet of late.”

Daniel draws in a deep breath, “Axel, have you aspirations?”

“In what way do you mean?”

“I suppose I mean life in general, do you aspire to anything other than living here in this hut and hunting?”

“Daniel I believe you are asking that question of yourself and not of me.”

“Possibly I am in part.”

“I would think now you have freedom, you don’t know what to do with it.”

Daniel shrugs away Axel’s suggestion while fidgeting with a stick from the ground. He commences to draw in the dust. The design represents that of a building but not one that would be found in the colony.

Axel feels he must continue but has little to offer, “I wouldn’t be the best person to answer your disquiet. What building is that?”

“It is Buckingham House, or as I remember it.”

“Who lives there?”

“Mad King George.”

“It would be too grand for the likes of me. What are your aspirations Daniel?”

“I feel I should be doing something with my life other than shooting things.”

“I couldn’t say as I have no past only a present and my present will run into my future without me encouraging it. You have a past to reflect on and in a way that is what you are finding difficult.”

“There is a part of me that wishes to return home.”

“What will you do?” Axel questions.

“I don’t know.”

“It will settle. You do realize I will support you with whatever you decide?”

“I realise that,” Daniel responds.

“Also I could never go to England, this is my country and if you allow, it could also be yours.”

“I do miss my family, if only I knew how they fared then I may find peace.”

“And if they are all gone?”

“Dunno’.”

“I could help you write them.”

“What good would it do, dad shifted about for work and none could read what you ‘rit. Anyway I’m not permitted to leave the colony.” With that thought Daniel appears to brighten. It is as if the realization he couldn’t return to England placed him back in his cage, all be it a cage with a partly open door, besides the problem was not one of his making. Daniel could for the moment live with that but one day the partly closed door may spring fully open, then what.

“I would like to visit Sydney soon, possible we could both do with a change of scenery.”

“Yes, I would like that – when?”

“Firstly I would like to try my skill at fishing.”

“Fishing, what brought that on?”

“I was walking past that pool in the creek where the banks pinch and deepen the water and I could see fish jumping for Bogong moths.”

“The moths would be big for a fish to eat.”

“By my calculation they were large river cod the natives call Barramundi,” Axel exaggerates their size by broadly parting his hands.

Daniel has doubts; “do you know anything about fishing?”

“Not a lot. I’ve been watching how the natives fish and found an old fishing spear; it can’t be too difficult.”

“That is something I’ve observes with the blacks, being they make everything they do appear simple. Have you ever thrown a boomerang?”

“I have,” Axel says, “and it kept on going.”

“Have you ever used a spear in hunting?”

“No a gun is quicker and doesn’t leave gaping holes in the hide.”

Daniel ignores Axels dig about aiming at the animal’s head, ‘fish are a smaller target,” he suggests.

“Therefore closer to the spear, so it should be easy.”

Daniel is grinning; “we’ll see.”

It is a warm day, a little overcast with high humidity as Axel with Daniel following, progress to Warrin’s fishing pond. On the way they chance upon Warrin who notices Axel’s fishing spear.

“Warrin’s spear,” the native says in language and gives a deep frown.

Understanding Warrin meaning, Axel cautiously offers up the spear but it isn’t accepted, “spear old, no good,” Warrin says in language. “Saal go fishing?” he asks.

“Saal try fishing,” Axel agrees.

Warrin attempts English, “Saal no catch fish.”

“And why Saal no catch fish?”

The black man laughs and continues on his way, “Saal no catch fish, spear no good,” he repeats, “old spear cursed by river spirit.”

The water in the pool is flat and murky from recent wash down from the mountains, with hover flies about the surface but none of the jumping fish Axel had earlier perceived, also the Bogong moths had departed to hibernate in caves on the high plateaus of the Southern Alps.

The boys pause by the water.

Axel is flexing his spear arm while practicing his strike.

“I don’t see any moths or jumping fish,” Daniel says.

“They are there and waiting for me to spear them.”

“Umm, that’s a new slant on the art of fishing.”

Axel is now paused while watching the calm pond surface.

“I don’t see any jumping fish,” Daniel repeats.

“Be quiet I’m concentrating.”

“If they are jumping, wouldn’t it be better to shoot them?”

“Funny boy.”

“I have seen the natives fishing,” Daniel says.

“So?”

“They fish with spears in the shallows where the water is clear. Here they would use a net. I thought you were a woodsman,” Daniel is enjoying his ragging of his friend’s obvious lack of talent towards fishing.

“Sometimes Daniel you really try my patients.”

“I am only trying to be helpful.” As he speaks a large fish jumps for a hover fly. “You missed a chance.”

Another fish jumps and as it does, Axel as quick as lightning hurls the fishing spear. By the time the spear strikes the water the fish is long gone.

“You missed,” Daniel laughs.

“It was a practice throw.”

“I would say you are supposed to hold onto the spear, look it is floating down stream.”

“Maybe Warrin is correct and the spear is cursed by the water spirits.”

“It seems the water spirit wanted the spear for itself.”

“I’ve had enough of fishing. Come on let’s go.”

Axel departs with Daniel silently following, “Shut it,” Axel calls back.

“I didn’t say anything,”

“I can hear you grinning.”

Axel had wounded a small kangaroo and sent Daniel on the chase but after catching up with the animal Daniel seems to have developed a limp. It appeared his leg may have mended from the fall from the Captain’s horse but he wasn’t yet up to running at speed.

While returning with the kangaroo across his shoulder, Daniel found the path had been blocked by a group of natives. As he was using their path, he stepped aside to allow passage and received the usual suggestive banter from the women bringing up the rear of the group. Neither of the boys understood what was said with the women laughing too much to properly form language.

Daniel dumps down the kangaroo before paying attention to his leg.

“Does your leg still hurt?” Axel asks once the natives had move on.

“A little when I run.”

“You should try rubbing it with Emu grease.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t rightly know but the old men in town swear by it.”

Daniel momentarily pauses massaging his leg, “have you got any?”

“No.”

“Therefore why offer?”

“I was thinking of travelling down to Sydney tomorrow.”

“I thought you said we need to lift the potatoes.”

“A few more days won’t hurt.”

“Do the natives ever pinch them?” Daniel asks and gives his leg a shake as if to loosen its muscles.

The shaking appears to work. He releases a satisfied sigh and reshoulders the kangaroo.

“They do help themselves to the corn but don’t appear all that interested in spuds.”

“It is as well you are a better farmer then you are a fisherman.”

“Keep it nice,” Axel laughs out his warning.

“We seldom had potatoes back home,” Daniel admits.

“Why not?”

“It was something to do with a blight that killed the crops, especially in Ireland.”

“I would think that is why half of the Irish are out here,” Axel suggests.

“You say we are off to Sydney tomorrow.”

“Are you up to it?”

“Yes but I don’t know about all that walking.”

“A little walk is good for you.”

“After chasing the wounded kangaroo, my legs are a quite stiff. I suppose by morning I’ll be up to the walk.”

“Don’t concern, we will take the early morning Bass Boat from the landing near Rose Hill.”

“Can we afford the passage?” Daniel asks.

“I usually do some loading and the master gives a free ride.”

“Tell me again, why are we travelling to Sydney?”

“I thought you could do with a change of scenery now that you are a free man. Also on the way I need to visit Rosie.”

“Why so?”

“That letter I was to deliver to Len French, I wish to return it to Rosie and she can somehow get a message back to his wife.”

The reason issued was only partly true. Axel was missing his painter and as Joshua’s promise of a letter had never eventuated, he was becoming concerned. Now he needed to have propinquity with his painter and the only thing that they had in common were ships, therefore even with his dislike for anything that transferred people out of sight of land he believed simply looking at ships may help stabilize his concerns.

“I want to show you something,” Axel says and leads the way into the hut. He enters the bedroom, moments later returns with what appeared to be a roll of canvas, or cloth.

“What have you there?”

Axel unrolls the canvas.

“It is a painting of you, how is it I’ve never seen it before.”

“No reason.”

“Who painted it?”

“A friend, his name is Joshua and he is gone to New Zealand.”

“Yes you have often spoken of him. It is a very good likeness but naked, I now realise why you don’t display it.” Daniel could see there was longing in Axel’s eyes, possibly even the beginning of a tear, “were you in love with Joshua?” he asks.

“I never thought so.”

“And now?”

“I miss him but it is more concern as he was supposed to write once he arrived in New Zealand and I’ve heard nothing. Now I fear something may have happed to the ship.”

“Why would you visit the docks as I thought you didn’t like ships?”

“It isn’t the ships that frighten me but what they sail on.”

“You go down river on the ferry and I often see you taking a swim.”

“True but if it hit a rock or sunk or something on the river, I could easily swim to the bank.”

“Water is water, although I can understand why you wouldn’t wish to be away from the sight of land.”

“You came out here on a ship, what are your memories?” Axel asks.

“I was only a kid and below deck most of the time so I hardly saw the water.”

Axel quickly brightens as he rolls away his painting, “anyway, we have our little trip tomorrow therefore we will need to leave before sunup to catch the first boat. I’ll put together a package for our lunch.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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