Taj and the Great Camel Trek (17 page)

We left Ularring early on the eighteenth morning of October. Mr Giles said Mount Churchman was 150 miles away. We stopped at the hottest part of that day and he let me read his thermometer so he could write what I said. ‘One day you will make a fine explorer, Taj. An explorer must be able to take an observation, recite a verse, cook food, mend his clothes, kill or cure a horse, make a saddle and understand astronomy, surveying, geography and geology. You can already do much of that.'

I smiled politely for I knew it was Alec who would be the explorer. The expedition was good experience for me and I would put it to use when I had my own camel string, but I didn't have an explorer's heart. Mr Giles said it had to be made of leather and mine wasn't.

The scrub was so thick again that we only marched twenty-four miles. We came to a hill that Mr Giles said was made of iron and his compass wouldn't work. He could only guess at its height, perhaps 500 to 600 feet.
I climbed up with him and saw the desolate landscape that we would have to travel across. Mr Giles was quiet as he looked out at the small white lakes and another hill amongst all that scrub. I am sure he was thinking of the tough march ahead.

After we climbed down, we all helped collect lowans' eggs. I counted thirty-four. All those eggs yet I never once saw a bird in the scrub. Chandani, one of the pack camels, looked to calve soon. With a sinking feeling I knew we would have to keep an eye on her.

It was difficult to open my eyes in the morning. Alec called it sandy blight. For half an hour I sat on my blanket until I could see enough to go and round up the camels. Surely some water would help, but it had been four days with none. Would our whole march be like this? Weeks on end without finding water? How long would the camels keep up with that kind of treatment?

Three days later we were seventy-seven miles from Ularring and travelling slower than usual. We still hadn't found water, and I was tired of it always being such a problem. We saw a few crows and hawks as we came to a large bare rock. I had learnt that evidence of any sort of life was a positive sign and I scanned our surroundings.

Peter saw them first. ‘Natives up on the ridge.' I looked up. If there were people surely there must be water.

The people began to yell as soon as they saw us. Was it the camels that frightened them, or us? Tommy kept in Mr Giles' shadow and didn't offer to talk to the people.

We found a well but the excitement of the water was dampened by the people watching our every move from a distance. It was unnerving. What if they attacked us? Mr Giles gave the order to camp there, and Padar and I unloaded the camels and put the bare essentials out for Peter's cooking and for sleeping. Mr Giles fired his gun into the air just in case any of the men knew what had happened at Ularring.

They disappeared after that. ‘I don't want a repeat performance,' Mr Giles said with a glance at Alec.

The well was shallow, and even though it was the only water around and most probably belonged to those people, Mr Giles didn't let this bother his conscience. ‘We need to drink too, and they can find more,' was his only comment.

Jess Young caught some bronze-winged pigeons and Mr Giles called the place Pigeon Rocks. It would have been interesting to know what the people there called the place but none of us wanted to risk a confrontation. It was 100 degrees in the shade and the air felt heavy as if a storm was gathering.

I was worried about Wardah. I whispered to her to keep being brave. Padar checked her leg. ‘She will not be able to travel much further.' He shook his head.

I hated this part of exploring: not being able to care properly for the camels.

The next day we were preparing to leave when Padar told Mr Giles about Wardah. ‘The lame cow, she is worse, Mr Gile. She can travel no more.'

Then, just as we were talking about Wardah, Chandini began to calve. We attended to her and she had an easier time than poor Khushi. Chandini didn't need us at all. Her calf was the colour of the moon but only as big as a rabbit, the smallest calf I'd seen and, perhaps because of its size, it looked as though it would never stand on its own.

That familiar feeling of dread sank into my bones. ‘Padar, if we could stay here a day or two, perhaps the calf could stand.' Padar motioned for quiet as Mr Giles and Mr Tietkens walked over.

Mr Giles thought about our situation for a while and spoke with Mr Tietkens, and then he decided. ‘We cannot stay here any longer,' he said.

I knew what that meant. If we stayed we would be in danger of using all our water and what if there was no more to be found? Then there were the desert people close by. I understood, but it didn't make it less difficult.

Again Mr Giles took the responsibility to kill the calf. It was the twenty-third day of October.

Poor Wardah followed us but she couldn't keep up. When we stopped I spoke to Padar. ‘I must get her and bring her to camp.'

‘No beta, you are needed for the unloading.'

‘What if she loses her way?'

Padar's eyes were kind. ‘Wardah will find her way.'

She arrived at camp just as we were about to eat our lowans' eggs. I rushed over and hugged her and said ‘Hooshta' so she'd sit and be able to rest her poor leg. ‘Poor Wardah, you are brave for walking so far.' But I wondered how long she could keep doing that; each day she took longer in coming to camp.

The next night I wrote this in my book:

Jess Young's eyebrows flew high when Mr Giles said that, but it is possible.

‘Tommy! Taj!' Mr Giles called us both to him the next morning. ‘I have lost a special knife that was a gift. It has an ivory handle.' His eyes scaled our faces as though they were razors. No one has stolen anything before though Tommy always had his eyes on Mr Giles' bag of trinkets.

‘Tommy? Look at me.' Tommy didn't meet Mr Giles' gaze but I understood that was his way of showing respect. ‘Have you seen it?'

‘No, boss.'

‘You, Taj?'

‘No, sir.' I knew what it would feel like to lose the knife that Padar had given me, and I felt sorry for Mr Giles.

He seemed satisfied with us, but it was an uncomfortable feeling. ‘See if you can find it for me,' he said more quietly. Then he strode away.

Once when I was younger Emmeline lost a book. It was one she had shown me on their veranda. I had held it and turned the pages; even then I had felt the magic in the words. I saw the expression on Emmeline's mother's face as she looked at me when Emmeline searched for her book, as if she thought I had taken it to my hut. Soon Emmeline found it under her bed and nothing was ever said about lost books or toys.

Tommy and I searched as best we could but we couldn't find the knife. ‘Where shall we look now?' I asked when we had checked around the tents.

Tommy shrugged and looked out to the desert. Where had Mr Giles lost it? What if it fell from his pocket in the scrub? Tommy and I wouldn't be able to find it out there. Suspicion does terrible things to a person's mind. What if Tommy had it? What would Mr Giles do then? We hadn't checked anyone's bedrolls. False guilt does even worse things. What if it turned up in my blanket and I couldn't explain how it came to be there?

On the twenty-seventh day of October we climbed Mount Churchman. Mr Giles was pleased to reach there at last. ‘Maybe there is water, help me look,' he said to Tommy and me. Mr Tietkens came too. I looked between the rocks for any blades of grass, but it was Mr Tietkens who found the water.

‘Here is a native well!' he cried. It had enough water in it for all the camels and our needs too.

After lunch something strange happened: we had visitors. There was an older man, a young man, and a boy. They wore a few pieces of clothing. The young man said his name was Charlie, the boy's, Albert, and the older man's, Billy.

Charlie said hello; he had a few English words. He noticed Tommy and stared at him for a while. Tommy grinned but I could tell he wasn't pleased to see the visitors. Charlie also had Mr Giles' knife in his hand. ‘I find this. I follow track.' He held it out to Mr Giles. How did he know who to give it to?

I overheard Mr Giles talking to Mr Tietkens before dinner. ‘That Charlie has been someone's pet. He knows too much by half.' I wondered what Mr Giles meant. I hoped there would be no problem, for Charlie and his friends were camping with us that night. Tommy moved his blanket closer to Mr Giles' bedroll.

Nothing untoward happened in the night. Charlie, Albert and Billy left in the morning. ‘We go to Nyngham now,' Charlie said to Mr Giles. Then he nodded at Tommy, though Tommy didn't return his look. If only all meetings with the people of this land were as friendly.

That afternoon we reached Moore Lake; it was a salt lake. We found some rock waterholes where we camped. There were also horse and cattle tracks. Tommy and I checked the tracks to see if there was any game around.

It was time to apologise to Tommy. I had suspected him of taking the knife and there was more that I couldn't explain. But I still didn't know which words to use or which ones would show him that I wanted to be his friend.

The next morning was Friday, 29 October and after Padar and I checked the salt lake was dry and would hold the weight of the camels we all crossed it. It was seven miles wide but fortunately not a bog. Padar and I didn't want to go through that again.

Tommy rode beside me for most of the way. There were times now with Tommy when we didn't say much but it felt fine, so that when Tommy did start to talk I was surprised.

‘I not true fella.'

I stared at him, unsure what he meant.

‘My hair not long,' and he pulled at it. ‘I was bard naba but I met Mr Giles and he cut my hair. Then I go with him or I die, not do dyibiri.'

I was at a loss. I wasn't sure of all he said, but it seemed there was something he hadn't done right in the ways of his people, something that he could die for. I sensed what that would feel like. If I drank alcohol or ate meat that was haram, or did things that Padar thought would send me to hell, he would be angry with me. I had heard of people in the old country who were killed to save the honour of their family. Is that what Tommy meant?

I asked Alec that evening but there is no privacy at a campfire; Mr Giles overheard. ‘What's that about Tommy?' I glanced at Tommy and asked Mr Giles about Tommy's hair.

Mr Giles chuckled. ‘Ah yes, Tommy's hair. I saved him from a fate worse than death – all those scars and dreadful mutilations, just to be initiated.' He scuffed Tommy across the head. It was playful and Tommy smiled but I was beginning to see differences in his
smiles. ‘How silly you looked in that chignon. Now you're civilised. It's a good thing I cut off your hair and made a man out of you.'

There was a silence as Mr Giles' words fled into the night. I glanced at Alec, surely he understood, but he too was smiling at Tommy. I stared at Tommy in horror for at last I knew what he had been trying to tell me. What he meant by not being a man, and not being able to tell the story of the serpent that night. Nor would he learn any others to tell. Now he would forever be a ghost boy, a boy caught between two ways of life, always a boy to Mr Giles and the English, and never a true man in the land of the Wirangu.

Tommy caught me staring and I recognised the dark hollow in his eyes and in his smile. I had never known what it was before.

When we awoke the next morning, Tommy was gone. Alec and I found four sets of tracks. We could imagine who they belonged to. There had been a struggle. Tommy's blanket was ripped. How could we not have heard? But I also knew how quietly Tommy could walk. Mr Giles strode up and down as he did when deciding. He couldn't take the string back: there was the problem of water. He practically pulled his moustaches out until Mr Tietkens spoke quietly with him.

‘Let Taj and me go,' Alec said. Mr Giles raised his eyebrows at Padar but Padar nodded his assent and so it was settled.

Padar hugged me and said, ‘Do not get yourself speared. I have seen a man die that way.' He didn't forbid me; he knew I had to go. I left Dyabun with Peter while Alec saddled Buzoe and Mustara. There was none of the playfulness we showed months ago when we raced to meet Mr Moseley. This time we didn't know what we would find and we had to conserve the camels' energy.

‘Do you think they will kill Tommy?' I asked Alec.

‘Most probably they will take him back to his mob for punishment.'

‘Spear him?'

‘Put him on trial I suppose.' Alec sighed. ‘Father told me once that an initiate has rules to follow and if he doesn't, he will be in trouble. Look at Tommy: even this far from Fowler's Bay, he's been recognised.'

It saddened me for I could understand. The English didn't seem to have so many rules, in fact Mr Giles seemed to think rules were there to break. But what if not everyone shared his view? I doubted Tommy's relatives would. No wonder he didn't want to go home.

Following the tracks wasn't easy. It made me think of a story Padar had told me about two lovers called Sassi and Punnu. They were trying to find each other in the
desert but they died just yards away from each other in a sand storm.

Alec was a good bushman and with the tracking games Tommy had played with me, we successfully followed the trail. It was dusk when we came to a sandhill amid the scrub.

Tommy was tied to a mulga tree, but no one else was there. ‘They must be off getting eggs,' Alec said.

When Tommy saw us, his smile wasn't as wide as I thought it would be. ‘You better let me die.'

‘No.' As soon as I said it I wondered if I was any different from Mr Giles. Wasn't I interfering too? But I didn't want Tommy to die.

‘Blackfella law. Even my mother not save me.'

‘You can still live.' I wanted to say his life could still have meaning even if he wasn't a true Wirangu man but did I believe it? Would my life still have meaning if I couldn't live the way Allah decreed? I suspected this is what Tommy knew: we would be ghost people, like jinns floating with no home. Wouldn't death be preferable to that? Yet I couldn't leave him there.

‘Will you come? Mr Giles wants you to come back.' I saw the struggle. Tommy loved Mr Giles, but would Mr Giles always be able to care for him? Protect him? Understand him?

He hesitated.

Padar says we alone hold the key to our happiness
and so I tried again. ‘Please come.' I knew Tommy lived in the present and I counted on his optimism.

Then Tommy smiled broadly. ‘All right. I come. You tough fella.'

I pulled out my knife and cut him free. There were still no words to say but we didn't need them. For the first time I hugged him.