Published: 2 Sep 2024

On reaching the farm it was discovered the lad continued to follow although remaining at distance. Axel believed by the time they had released Patch back to her yard and stowed their gear, Miro would have lost interest and decided to leave but after all had been done, with the sun dipping into the giant forest trees, Miro was seen seated at the edge of the clearing appearing to be in little haste to return to his people.

“What should we do about him?” Daniel asks.

“Nothing, if we ignore him for long enough he will go back to his people.”

“What if the two Bert Rush killed were the last of his people?”

“A good question and one I don’t have an answer for.”

Daniel fixes his gaze on the pitiful figure of Miro, “he could be hungry,” he suggests.

“At his age he would be well skilled in finding native foods in the forest, I wouldn’t worry about him.” Axel’s words appeared harsh but he was lacking in any further suggestion towards the lad’s future. He had seen too many young black children taken in by white families, only on reaching manhood to be cast out becoming neither black nor white, eventually finding their only comfort in alcohol. Besides even if they took Miro into their care and educated him to a suitable standard, white society would never accept him, only treat Miro as some side show attraction.

“I remain concerned,” Daniel sighs.

“Sleep on it Daniel and if he still here in the morning, then follow your concern. It has been a long day and I’m bushed.” If Axel appeared somewhat unkind it was more from his need to be practical about life as he had quickly learned sentiment often ended in nothing but strife, especially if Miro is from another clan and living with them in Bedigal territory.

There is a saying; all things are brighter with the morning. Brightness yes, this day the sun is warm and the sky cloudless but the young black lad remains in the exact same position from the previous night.

Daniel returns from emptying his morning bladder. “I wonder why he hasn’t returned to his family.”

“As you suggested it is possible the two Bert Rush bragged of killing were his only family.” Axel goes to the hut door and peers out into the sunshine. Daniel follows and as they observe the lad they notice Warrin entering the clearing from the opposite direction and on his way to his favourite fishing hole.

“Possibly Warrin can help,” Axel doubtfully suggests.

“Didn’t you say they are from different clans and don’t speak the same language?”

“Yes that is true yet many words are similar and many of the clans in the same area speak one another’s language.” Axel finds voice and calls out to Warrin, who on hearing the call makes a detour towards the hut while displaying his usual jolly mood. Axel points to the lad at the end of the clearing.

“He not Bedigal,” Warrin says.

“Then who is he?”

Warrin shrugs the question away, more out of disinterest than knowledge.

“Would you speak with him?”

Warrin doesn’t answer instead he approaches the lad and looms over him, his shadow covering Miro’s slight frame like the wings of a hawk.

The lad gazes up at Warrin. For a time neither speaks, then Warrin commences firing questions in quick succession. After a while Warrin appears satisfied and returns.

“He is Kedumba and his father and uncle were killed by a white man.” Warren’s English is mixed with language but Axel appears to understand.

“What about his people?”

“He say’ all his clan dead, they had lumps all over their bodies and fell down and couldn’t wake up.”

“Will your people take him in and look after him?”

“No he is Kedumba.”

“Does that matter as both Kedumba and Bedigal are from the Gundungurra people?”

“Kedumba bad people, bad spirits;” Warrin then bursts into language but too rapid for Axel to understand. Without further explanation Warrin dismisses the boys and the lad, continuing towards his fishing.

“What now?” Daniel asks.

“We can’t let him starve. I don’t think he has eaten anything for a day or two.”

“I agree.”

Axel gives a beckoning wave and the lad is quickly on his feet hurrying across the clearing.

“I’ll get him something,” Daniel goes into the hut, moments later he returns with some dried kangaroo meat. He passes the portion to the lad who devoured the meat in seconds. Daniel gives a second helping.

While Miro is eating Axel questions in the best use of language he can bring to bear, “would you like us to take you to your people?” he asks.

Although all of what Axel says is in Bedigal, the lad appears to understand the gist of it.

The lad answers in a jumble of language including English, “Miro has no people; no one wants Miro, I have been infected by white man’s magic.”

“What magic?”

“The elders say Miro bad luck, Miro bad medicine and say go away and if you come back we will kill you.”

“Bugger;” Axel quietly exclaims.

Daniel questions.

Axel explains the situation as best he can and draws in a deep breath, “I suppose there is only one answer, for now he will have to stay with us.”

“I agree,” Daniel concurs.

Axel remains troubled, “what is concerning, our selection at the headwater is close to that of the Kedumba people and if he comes with us that may bring Miro and possibly us into conflict with the Kedumba.”

The lad appears to be hanging on every word and by his expression he possibly understands some of what is said, bringing Axel to question, “Miro do you speak our language?”

Miro know’ some speak,” the lad answers.

“Where did you learn it?”

“White missionary come and give us god but we no want god and kill the white man. Miro stay’ here and work hard.”

“For now,” Axel says, “you can stay and we’ll see what happens.”

The lad appears happy with the suggestion bringing about a reversal in his previous nervous attitude and becomes gregarious, trying his limited English and mimicking words spoken by the boys.

Late morning and as Daniel collects the buckets to water the garden Miro takes control of the spare buckets following behind Daniel to the creek.

“Coffee’s up,” Axel calls bringing the watering to a pause. Both Daniel and Miro swagger towards the hut. At the door Miro stops and sits on a bench Joshua had made before departing for New Zealand.

“Miro works well,” Daniel says as Warrin is seen making his way back from fishing. In passing Warrin offers two fish to Daniel. “What are they for?” Daniel asks.

“You give boy tucker.”

“I thought you said Miro bad medicine.”

“Kedumba bad medicine; Miro not yet learn bad medicine,” Warrin places down the fish and goes about his day without furthering his usual banter.

Axel is at the door and has witnessed the exchange, “well what do you know,” he says being somewhat surprised with Warrin’s attitude.

Daniel laughs; “possibly he fancies the lad.”

“Umm,”

“That sounds serious.”

“If your deduction is true there could be trouble.”

“You think so?”

“I don’t know how active Warrin may be but who is to say the kid would accept any advances made by Warrin.”

Miro is obviously listening to the boys’ conversation although he doesn’t appear to get the gist of it.

Axel changes the subject, “do you like coffee Miro?”

“Coffee,” the lad mimics the word.

“Drink,” Axel says and charades the action of drinking.

The lad shrugs away his lack of understanding.

“Anyway come inside and have some tucker.”

Instead of entering into the hut Miro rises and walks away.

“What is the problem Miro?” Axel asks.

Without reply the lad takes a seat further away and lowers his head. Now gone was the boldness he had displayed earlier.

“It must have something to do with being enclosed inside,” Daniel suggests.

“You may have a point there; Miro why won’t you come inside the hut?”

The lad defiantly shakes head.

“Very well we will all eat outside.”

It had been a fortnight since Miro came to live with the boys and his English improved daily but not once had he entered into the hut, or would he give reason for his refusal. Also during that time Warrin had delivered a second supply of fish and in doing so spent time talking with the lad. After one such visit Axel chanced to enquire if Warrin understood the lad’s refusal to enter into the hut. Warrin simply said the lad was Kedumba and they were all strange. As for sleeping arrangements, Warrin’s words proved true, as the lad made what could only be described as a nest among the bushes at the edge of the clearing, while even with much encouragement he remained unwilling to enter the hut, or use a shelter Daniel erected for him beside the woodpile.

What was surprising was Ding’s attitude and from the first he displayed a liking for the lad, possibly because they were both lost soles and some nights Ding would sleep in Miro’s so described nest with him.

Trust isn’t easily come-by although it had to be tested with Miro, as sooner more than later the boys would need to spend their days widening the track to their selection, therefore it would be necessary to leave Miro at the hut with instructions on watering the vegetable garden and attending to Patch, although the small corn crop could be left to natural precipitation. What was concerning, possibly the solitude and strange surroundings could become too much for Miro and they would return to find him gone, with the garden wilted from lack of watering. Another fear being the local natives, although it appeared Warrin had accepted the lad, would Warrin’s people, or would they object to Miro living on what was Bedigal land.

Eventually the boys concerns were to be tested, as it was time to commence the track clearing to make it wide enough to give passage for the cart. It is Daniel who takes on the task of instruction Miro but finds the lad chatty and lacking in attention.

“Miro you aren’t listening to me!”

The prattle stops.

“Miro listen;” the lad says in his best English.

“You need to water every morning.”

“Miro water.”

“Also Patch; don’t forget to feed her and if the boys from the camp come by don’t let them try riding her.”

“Miro appears confused with Daniel’s words.”

Axel explains in Bedigal as the lad appears to know both dialects.

“No ride Patch,” Miro agrees.

“That’s right no one is to ride Patch,” Daniel sighs, he turns to Axel; “possibly we should take Patch with us?”

“We may be gone for some time and I don’t think there will be enough fodder for her in some parts along the track.”

“Point taken but I remain worried leaving Patch.”

“We’ve left her behind before, besides Miro knows what to do.” Axel goes to the edge of the clearing and cuts down a long thin sapling which he takes it to the cart. Laying the pole diagonally across the cart he cuts away the thinner end.

“What is that for?” Daniel asks.

“It is a measuring stick.”

“For measuring what?”

“It is for measuring the width of the new path against that of the cart. It would be pointless finishing the job then finding the cart couldn’t pass through.”

“Clever, when did you think of doing that?”

“Just now.”

During the afternoon the boys put together tools and enough supplies for three days in the wheelbarrow, deciding to leave before the morning’s sun. The first part of the widening would be simple, as for some distance from their farm the ancient native path followed Stringers Creek, and considered wide enough but within a short distance it would be necessary to divert, as the path ran between a number of very large trees that were so close it was almost possible to outstretch your arms and touch one side to the other.

Towards evening Warrin passes by. Instead of travelling along the fringe of the forest as was his custom he comes close to the hut as if he was assuring his passing is noticed by Miro. It had been unusually hot weather and without instruction the lad took on watering the garden, on seeing Warrin Miro places down his buckets.

Warrin appears to ignore the lad, instead give the boys a wave and loud coo-ee.

Daniel returns the wave, “If I am any judge of character, there is something going on here.”

“I agree, although I haven’t noticed anything in Miro that would suggest he had interest in Warrin.”

“I remain uneasy leaving Miro to look after things while we are away.”

Axel ignores Daniel’s continued concern and calls to Warrin, “going fishing?”

“No fishing,” Warrin answers, then without invitation Miro approaches the black man. There is a short conversation before Warrin continues on his way and Miro returns to continue with the watering. As Miro collects his buckets, Axel questions him, “What did Warrin say?”

Miro answers in language admitting he didn’t understand what Warrin said.

“Does Warrin frighten you?”

“No.”

“Could you live with the Bedigal?”

“No live with the Bedigal.”

The lad’s answer appears duel in meaning, “Could you live with Warrin?” Axel asks.

“No live with the Bedigal,” Miro repeats then appears to drift away from Axel’s questioning, “Miro do watering, or garden die.”

“He is avoiding your question,” Daniel says as the lad returns to the creek to fill his buckets.

“I did notice.”

“If he does go off with Warrin, it would be better for us.”

“True but possibly not for Miro, especially if the Bedigal don’t get along with the Kedumba.”

“Would they kill him?”

“Possibly yes.”

“What about Warrin would he protect him?”

“I don’t think Warrin is in any position with his people to make such a call, don’t forget he is also partly on the outer.”

Miro returns with the water, he smiles, “Miro water garden,” he repeats.

“We will be leaving early in the morning,” Axel says.

“Miro look after garden, Miro look after Patch.”

Axel again attempts to extract the lad’s opinion of Warrin, “will you be seeing Warrin?” he bluntly asks.

“Miro do good job watering,” was the lad’s answer.

During the evening there was much said about leaving Miro to water and attend to Patch. This time it was Axel who had reservations and Daniel who brings peace of mind with a simple reality. If they hadn’t allowed the lad to stay, there wouldn’t be anyone to attend to the garden but they would still need to widen the track. In such a situation they would simply have to spend less time away, returning each night and the further away they worked the less the opportunity to return nightly. Either that or one do the track widening, while the other remains to attend to the farm, taking much longer to finish the work.

After some deliberation it was agreed, they would shorten their time away and hope the lad at least did the morning watering.

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

15,540 views