When Darkness Falls (3 page)

He looked around ... He wanted to see the faces, to watch the fascination and horror as the onlookers realised there was nothing they could do to save this dog who had beaten him to his bone. He wasn't afraid of the brothers ... to spear him down without just cause would be murder, and they could die for the act. One last look, and he would jab ... Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the younger brother's spear aimed straight for his heart ... the wrong move, murder or not, and the old man knew he would be dead before the blood stopped pumping from the boy's body ... he would beat the boy to the home of the Spirits.

The old man circled once more to position himself near Dani's good leg, then with one swift thrust he shoved the spear downward, and as it entered the skin and flesh, he twisted the blade, sawing it in and out of the wound. Then he yanked it free, and forced his way through the crowd. He had shoved the broad-bladed spear between the calf muscle and the shinbone, severing as much of the muscle as he could. Then as a final act, the blade had been wrenched to the heel; it was only his lack of strength that stopped him severed the tendon of the heel. His bride's lover would never walk again.
As for the brothers, they would pay dearly for that threat and his wife-to-be would be a sad and broken woman long before he journeyed to the land of the dead. If that dog had given her a child, its life would be hell on earth.

Payback had been achieved. Satisfaction was guaranteed.

They carried Dani inside and dressed his wounds. The one through the upper leg had been small and clean and would heal quickly. But the damage done by the old man's spear would be slower to heal, harder to mend. Dani would be a cripple for the rest of his life. Unable to take the boy's life, the old man had done the next best thing, taken away Dani's ability to hunt and run and excel at what a man was intended for, to provide for his family. Now he was only as good as a child, just another mouth to feed; from this day he would be a handicap to his family and the tribe. They would soon tire of looking after a cripple.

One day Dani would walk and run, and hunt, but it would take him a couple of years to get about as he wanted. All the time he lay recovering, all the time it took to get himself on his feet, all the time it took to learn to walk again, he listened to the people and heard their thoughts and their words.

At first it was about the payback system. There were no rules that in pay-back the weapons had to be thrown, or that there should be a particular type of wounding for a particular crime. If you were lucky you lived. People spoke of the severity of the wounding the old man had given Dani. It was something that one day the Elders should get off their arses and do something about. If one of their own kids were speared and killed, then something would be done about it, but while it only happened to others ... too bad. Maybe a couple
should be killed, one from each tribe, then there would be some action.

He listened as the people talked. At first they felt sorry for the young man they had admired, but in time, he heard the change come into their voices. The sadness turned to pity, pity to resentment, resentment to dislike, then bitterness, and in time, bitterness would turn to hate. Even those close to him were changing. He listened and learned about human frailty, and tried harder to get himself on his feet and out of their care. Long before he was ready, he made moves to get out, to become independent, to do what they thought he could never do. A fire filled him.

And Nunjupuni? Her image was with him from the moment of his waking, to the moment that sleep overtook him. At night she invaded his dreams and became alive and vibrant and with him once more. As he got better, he thought a lot about his life and hers. He thought over what she had told him, about how her life would be, that she was being married, to look after the old man and his first wife, as a virtual slave. There would be no children, no life, no love.

As time moved on Danaranni made plans to leave his family, his friends, his home, the place where he grew up, the land he loved. He would go to Nunjupuni, take her, and elope. Together they could start a new life in a new land, have children and grow old together. As his strength and mobility returned, he began to move off by himself, slowly learning to walk again. He would do it: it was a promise he made to himself and a silent promise to Nunjupuni.

“I'm sorry I couldn't stay awake, Grandad, but tell me, did Dani ever go back to see Nunjupuni?”

“No Grandson, at least not yet.”

“Will he go and see her? What happens to their love?”

“Well now ... are you ready to hear the rest of the story?”

“Yes, Grandad. This time I'll try to keep awake to hear how it ends.”

“Now let me see...”

Dani had decided that once he was able to walk and hunt enough to be able to look after himself, he would leave his people and the few friends that still greeted him. He began by withdrawing into himself and going off alone.

At first his disappearances would last for a day, then two days, then three ... and one day he just disappeared. It took him more than a month to reach Nunjupuni's lands. Once there, he searched along the foreshore until he found a secluded spot where he could leave his few belongings without the chance of them being found, then he began to watch the camp, waiting his chance to see Nunjupuni, for the opportunity to get close enough to catch her attention. Then they could meet and make plans.

He had been watching for a week or more, when one evening he came across a woman walking the foreshore near the camp, her arms folded as she strolled along in the shallows watching her small daughter run and laugh and playfully splash her in passing. The mother gave chase and splashed her back, laughing and frolicking, playing with the small one in the darkening, cooling waters. She turned about and made to return in the direction from which they had come, calling to the girl and bidding her return.

The sound of the woman's voice stabbed at Dani's heart. The voice was Nunjupuni's and the child was her daughter. Was she
his
child?

He sank down beside a clump of sandhill grass, his heart
thumping. His chance had come. He had planned and waited for this moment. He took a deep breath and as low as he could he emitted the mating call of the sand-curlew, then coughed as he was finishing it. He watched as her form froze. She hushed the child, frantically calling it to her. Then, with the child in her arms, she turned towards where she thought the sound had come from.

He filled his lungs, but the sound died on his lips as another voice sounded. Someone was coming through the scrub to the beach, looking for the girl and her child. The voice was harsh and unfriendly. Nunjupini turned and retraced her steps in silence, going to meet whoever it was, turning them back before they could reach the shore.

The next evening Danaranni and Nunjupuni met and very late in the night they were reunited in their love. They sat again in the dew-drenched sand and talked and planned. Yes, she was ready to leave, as soon as he thought it was possible. She had had enough of being the fetch-and-carry-all. The old man had indeed made her life a misery. He was particularly bad when her brothers were around forcing them to witness his complete authority. There was nothing they could do about it; the marriage had been arranged by their father and the Elders. The law stood.

As much as Nunjupuni loved her little daughter, she could see the wisdom of Dani's words when he said that the child would be a terrible burden, the greatest of all handicaps. They would be pursued, and would have to move as fast as his crippled leg would allow him. They would need all the skills they possessed to throw off their pursuers. He couldn't carry the child, not over any distance, and she would wear herself out trying. They couldn't stop to rest for long; the child would soon weary and there was no way they could stop her once
she began to cry for warmth and comfort. No, she would have to stay.

When the time came for their leaving, as soon as Nijilla had fallen asleep, Nunjupuni would leave her wrapped in bedding outside her eldest brother's humpy. Then they would leave. There would be no turning back; they would be committed, and if they were caught they would die. Her brother would know what to do. He would guard and protect the little one as his own, whether they lived or died, and if they should ever return for their daughter, he would leave the choice to the little girl. That was his way.

Dani had planned to move inland, go south along the coast in the water for a day or two, then move directly inland and keep going until they hit the edge of the great sandy desert, then move north until they found a land that they could finally call home. After five or six summers, they could come this way again, pick up their daughter, and return to their own homelands. But Nunjupuni, willing to give up one love, wasn't willing to give up the other. All her life, she had lived by the great ocean. Every night she had listened to the sighing of the waves on the shore; in her loneliest hours, the ocean had been her strength, her source of comfort, her security. She couldn't leave it.

Up or down the coast, then? Up.

Nunjupuni knew the lands to the south, and her face was familiar to the people there. No, they had to go north. There, she was not known, neither was he. They would go straight into the water from this very beach, then move night and day northwards, leaving the water only to sleep and find food. Ten, maybe fifteen suns they would travel in the sea, then they would leave it for the land and begin their search for their new homelands, many days further along the coast.

They should leave as soon as possible. But before they did,
Dani wanted just once to hold his daughter. To nurse her to himself, to caress and croon and speak words of love. If they should never pass this way again, at least he would have held this child of his own, and she would know that her father had returned to her, if only for a moment.

The next night, before midnight, Nunjupuni bought Nijilla with her, and for a small time the family sat and became as one. Too late to undo their decision, they both knew that when Nunjupuni took the child to her brother's humpy it would be time to go. At last Njilla fell asleep in Dani's arms. Her mother wrapped her well, then with tears in her eyes left the child outside her brother's humpy and soon she and Dani were on their way.

The days passed, the water that once soothed and acted as a balm became daunting in its immensity. Time was passing but they had not travelled far. They realised they had made a bad choice but to change plans now would be stupid. Even though the taste of raw fish, mussels and crabs were beginning to make them feel like retching every time they ate, their love helped them to endure this awful journey in the water.

One night they slept beneath an overhang of rock and in the morning they were woken by the sounds of voices. They crept to the edge and peered over the lip. Men with spears were coming along the waters' edge. Others were walking on the sandhill, trying to keep pace with those on the wet sand. Some were talking excitedly and pointing towards where they were hiding. It was too late to get back in to the water and make their way out into deep water as they had planned to do if ever they should run into people. There was only one thing to do; go inland.

Picking up their gear, and without trying to conceal the fact they had camped in the cave, they climbed out onto the rocks around them and disappeared. Their pursuers looked
out to sea, wondering if they might have taken to the water, but could see no sign of them. They decided it was too late to go back to their camp, so they stayed there overnight. Next morning they decided the quarry had eluded them; they would turn back. A young hunter, going into the bush to have a goona before starting home, was squatting down, when he suddenly realised that he was looking at a footprint. He got down on all fours, scrutinised it and realised it was a woman's. He called for the rest of the party to come. Dani and Nujupuni heard the gathering of the men, and could sense their excitement. Before they could make a move to return to the sea, the tribesmen had moved to block them from going there.

Now the hunt was on in earnest. One of the Elders sent the fastest runner in their midst to go back to the camp and get others. He also sent a (runner to go as fast as he could. Nunjupuni's tribe.

Nunjupuni and Dani ran before the line of people. They didn't know the country inland. All they could do was to move before the advancing line. They went on for two days. At night they eluded the men set to guard them and began to make their way to the coast, but by daylight the tribesmen were back on their tracks, encircling them and pushing them the way they wanted them to go. Nobody tried to get close to the couple; they just herded them before them.

Dani and Nunjupuni began to feel the lack of drinking water. It was now over two days since they had drunk. As the sun began to sink they climbed over the brow of a small sandhill and saw a great plain. Pausing to take in the sight, Dani looked far into the gathering dusk; he thought he saw a mound of tall trees. Tall trees ... the possibility of water.

Their thirst drove them on. They walked all night across the plain, and with the coming dawn, they saw that what
Dani had seen the evening before, was in fact a stand of tall trees, and there was indeed a creek. They could see birds flying away from it and passed the tracks of roos, emus and dogs coming and going towards the trees. Water. Stumbling, they made their weary way towards the creek; soon they would have cool water running down their throats.

Forgotten were the people that hunted them. Forgotten the people from whom they had run. Their one thought was water. They were walking into a rising sun. They didn't need to see the trees to find the water: they were walking in the tracks that animals over countless years had pressed into the earth. Their senses were dulled by the thirst. They walked blind and uncaring for the moment, their thoughts only of the water.

“Nunjupuni!”

The word stopped them in their tracks. They looked into the sun and were blinded. But they didn't need to see. It was the one voice they both knew well, the one they dreaded most. They began to back away, Dani shielding the woman from the man they had come to hate. Their retreat came to a halt as they backed into a tree.