Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence - Doris Pilkington (13 page)

They were passing through country that was familiar to Daisy, so she took great delight and pleasure showing her big sister all the places where her family had camped and where bush tucker was plentiful. Her step-father and uncles always managed to bring home more than enough for the whole family.

Molly, Daisy, Joey and Ron Clarkson lunched and rested on the banks of Savory Creek, quite near where Molly was born, then facing north they made tracks for home. It felt wonderful.

One late afternoon in October 1931, the four travelled silently across the plains along the rabbit-proof fence, each one deep in their own thoughts. The silence was broken occasionally by the cawing of crows and the swishing of the camels’ tails as they brushed away the scores of pesky bush flies. These insects attached themselves to the dusty travellers and hitched a ride all the way to the end of their journey.

The late afternoon was pleasantly warm, though the nights were still rather cool.

Now it was Molly’s turn to point out special places to Daisy. It was a quick trip down memory’s landscape. They passed close to the claypan where Molly was born. A feeling of nostalgia brought tears to her eyes as memories of her childhood flashed before her.

“You can get up now,” said Molly. She was tired of sitting on the camel’s back.

“Alright,” said Daisy eagerly, she didn’t mind riding the rest of the way.

As they drew closer, nervous excitement was building up inside them. Both girls took in the familiar landscape of the red earth, the dry spinifex grass and grey-green mulga trees. There was nothing to compare with the beauty of these plains that stretched out in all directions.

They could see the black hills in the distance where their families hunted for girdi-girdis and murrandus. They were approaching the camp site now, the dogs were barking and people were shouting to each other and pointing in their direction. Some were sitting in the creekbed, wailing quietly. But all eyes were focussed on the four weary travellers. Unbeknown to them, their Uncle Freddie had ridden on ahead to tell the old people that Molly and Daisy were returning home to them.

The four travellers parted company on the banks of the Jigalong Creek, close to the mud-brick huts of the depot, and made their way to their homes. The girls walked slowly towards their mothers’ camps where their family sat awaiting their arrival.

The wailing began softly at first then grew louder as more people joined the group.

The maintenance boss called out just before he disappeared behind the huts. “Come down to the store and get some rations, alright.”

“Yeah, alright,” they replied shyly. But neither of the girls accepted that offer because at daybreak the next morning, their families moved away from the depot and had no intention of returning until they were absolutely certain that the girls were safe from government officers and policemen.

Molly and Daisy did not relish the idea of being sent back to the Moore River Native Settlement. The trek had been no easy feat. It had taken the girls months to complete and nothing or nobody could take this moment of happiness and satisfaction from them. They had finally reached their destination and were reunited with their families. They had
taken a great risk. Inmates absconding from the settlement were considered to be a serious problem. If they had been caught, the girls would have had their heads shaved or made to wear sacks and other more serious punishments.

The task of apprehending Molly and Daisy was handed back to Constable M.J. Riggs of the Nullagine police station. This was the policeman, who in his role as a Protection Officer, had removed the three girls from Jigalong and escorted them to Marble Bar. Now he was informing the Commission of Police that, “From inquiries made I am of the opinion that the girls will not return to Jigalong for a while, but that they will stay around Lake Naboroo with the natives in the vicinity...” (4/12/1931. Police File No.5979/31.)

The correspondence concerning the girls continued.

Gracie, or Chrissy as she was called by the authorities, remained at the railway siding intending to catch the weekly train to Wiluna. When she was told that she had to wait for a couple of days however, she took off early the next morning following the railway until she came to a place called White Well where a Mardu couple named Rosie and Ned were camped.

“Come and have something to eat and rest,” invited Rosie. “What’s your name and where do you come from?”

“I am Lucy from Jigalong,” said Gracie. When the train arrived Ned, Rosie and Gracie travelled to Wiluna.

In no time at all, Gracie was enjoying the relaxed, casual lifestyle she led before her transportation south. Although she had trouble settling down in one place and sleeping in the same bed every night on a mattress.

Her mother was not at Wiluna when she arrived but Gracie was prepared to wait until she came to fetch her. In the meantime she was growing accustomed to having all the comforts of home, three full meals a day and a comfortable bed to sleep on.

One day when she was sitting outside at the camp she was spotted by an informer, a Mardu police tracker. He rushed
back to the police station and reported to Sergeant James Mills.

“Sergeant, you know those three muda-muda girls that ran away from the settlement?”

“Yes. I remember the telegrams and information about them.”

“Well, I saw one of them at Rosie and Ned’s camp.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “You mean to tell me that they actually walked to here.”

“No, only one,” said the tracker.

Sergeant Mills drove over to the camp to interview Gracie who “stated that her name was Lucy, and that she and two other girls ran away from the Jigalong Station, and they all walked to White Well 40 miles from Wiluna and the other girls then went bush and left her behind and when the train came along on the 26/9/31 she came to Wiluna”. (File 173/30.)

“This girl Lucy,” he informed the Chief Protector of Aborigines, “is approximately about 12 or 13 years of age and about half grown ... and is very shy and timid. She doesn’t belong to this district, and was inclined to run away into the bush from Rosie’s camp, so I brought her to the Police Station on the 4/10/31 and I am keeping her here until I receive instructions from you.” (James Mills, Sgt.3/C807, Wiluna 5/10/31)

“Can you identify girl called Lucy. Either Daisy thirteen formerly with Mrs Chellow, Murra Munda or Molly fourteen, Chrissy eleven from Jigalong,” telegrammed the Chief Protector of Aborigines on 13 October.

“Chrissy is the name of girl I have here please advise,” Sergeant Mills replied.

All the officials concerned agreed that Gracie should be returned to the settlement as soon as possible. Neville, the Chief Protector of Aborigines, tried to avoid expenditure, however, so he welcomed the suggestions made by Sergeant Mills and Inspector Simpson. Sergeant Mills proposed that
his wife escort Gracie on the condition that the Chief Protector’s Department pay the fare and expenses. “We’ll pay the fare but not the expenses,” replied the Chief Protector.

Finally, Neville notified the Commissioner of Police, “that approval is hereby given to bring the half-caste girl ‘Chrissy’ down. She is to be accompanied by Mrs Mills as suggested in his report on the 21/10/31. Please advise when the child can be expected to reach Mogumber.” (File No.173/30.)

When the Chief Protector received the invoice from Sergeant Mills he pleaded with him that, “in such a case as this you might make a reduction in the amount charged for meals on account of the half-caste girl ‘Chrissy’? The Department is in an unfortunate position in this respect as it cannot make other arrangements which might result in board being provided at a cheaper rate. Admittedly the case is exceptional but it is quite feasible that the child might have been provided for at a lesser rate elsewhere.” (File 173/30, 23/1/32)

Sergeant Mills replied curtly that

The total sum paid to the policemen involved in the search and recapturing of the three runaways from Jigalong was quite handsome. The three of them put the Department “in an unfortunate position” financially. In a letter to the Commissioner of Police, the Chief Protector of Aborigines stated that:

“We followed that fence, the rabbit-proof fence, all the way home from the settlement to Jigalong. Long way, alright. We stay in the bush hiding there for a long time,” remembers Molly, who is in her late seventies. When she was only fourteen years old she decided that she wanted to have a part in planning her own destiny.

“Long way” sums up rather understatedly what was, without a doubt, one of the longest walks in the history of the Australian outback. While other parts of this vast country of ours have been crossed on horses or camels, these three girls did their exploring on their bare feet. An incredible achievement in anyone’s language. The vastness and the diversity of the Western Australian landscape would always be respected and appreciated by them—they
trekked across it and conquered. This historic trek had taken almost nine weeks.

Several months later a small group of people were relaxing around a fire in the lounge room of a boarding house in the south-west town of Margaret River. They were listening with great interest while some young women were relating a tragic incident where three Aboriginal girls were either drowned in the raging floods or perished in the wilderness, but their bodies were never found.

“Where did this happen?” asked a lady named Mrs Mary Dunnet, who was holidaying with her sister—the proprietor of the boarding house.

“At the Moore River Native Settlement near Mogumber north of Perth,” was the reply. The women recounting the story were employed as nurses there at the time the incident occurred.

“Well, I am pleased to tell you that those girls didn’t drown, they returned home safe and sound to Jigalong and Wiluna,” said Mrs Dunnet. Incidently, she later took Molly in as a trainee house maid on her cattle station, the Balfour Downs Station, about 40 kilometres north-east of the present site of the Jigalong community.