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.
For days we kept watch, taking turns in the nights, while Tommy slept close to the men with guns. But it seemed we weren’t followed. Charlie and his friends had given up on Tommy.
The desert began to change; there were blades of grass, more saltbush. ‘I think we are nearing civilisation at last,’ Alec said. On the fourth day of November we came to a sheep station. There were a few bark gunyahs so people were around; we watered our camels at a trough for watering sheep, and drank heartily ourselves. My mouth was watering for lamb. We hadn’t had any fresh meat for a month and no mutton for four months. Padar was sharpening his knife, for there were sheep in the paddock, but Mr Giles said to wait until the shepherd came back.
While we were waiting, a man rode in on a horse. He was so shocked to see us he nearly bolted off again, until Mr Giles called out and told him who we were.
‘Is it South Australia, ye coom from?’ the man said. ‘Ye crossed, ye say? Never heard of no one doin’ that before. For sure I welcome ye all in the name of the colony. I’ll be off to get the shepherd.’
‘Can you ask him to bring a sheep,’ Mr Giles said.
The man returned with the shepherd, a sheep, Aboriginal stockmen and their families. Padar slaughtered the sheep and Peter cooked it. There was no time to let it hang and we sat there watching it roast as though our lives depended on it.
After an early dinner Mr Giles said with satisfaction, ‘That was excellent mutton.’ There were murmurs of appreciation.
A boy went to the nearest farmhouse to get us some coffee, butter, sugar and eggs. This station was called Tootra and belonged to the Clunes brothers. We were no longer in the desert.
We made a campfire and Jess Young got his accordion out and sang songs for everyone to join in. Then Alec asked Padar to tell a story. There were times in the desert when no one felt like singing or telling stories, now all the men looked at Padar expectantly, even Jess Young.
Padar began, ‘There was one and there was none. Except for God there was no one.’ Jess Young smirked but he didn’t interrupt. ‘In the country of Afghanistan there was once a prince called Iskandar who was frightened of tigers. His father said that in order to become king he had to fight the tiger which was kept in a cage in the dungeon.’ Padar glanced at me. I’m sure I would be frightened of tigers too. ‘Iskandar said, “How can I face a fierce tiger?” And so in great shame he saddled his horse and left the palace. At the end of that day he arrived at a large house. The host made him welcome. “Where are you from?” he asked, but Iskandar evaded the question. “I have a problem and I am seeking the answer.”
‘That night as Iskandar looked out the window he saw a tiger prowling in the grounds. He heard its snarl and felt the same fear he’d felt at home. In the morning he asked the host about it. “Oh yes,” said the man, “we have many wild tigers. Don’t worry, everything is securely guarded.” But Iskandar couldn’t get the thought of tigers out of his head so he left the house and journeyed on.
‘At nightfall he was glad to see a fort with armed men. He was allowed to share a meal with them. “Who are you?” a tall warrior asked. “I cannot tell you,” Iskandar said. “I have a problem I cannot face and I must find the answer.” The warrior nodded and asked Iskandar to go hunting with his men in the morning. “We are hunting a tiger and I invite you to come and test your bravery.” Iskandar hardly slept that night and in the early dawn he left the fort. He couldn’t understand how there were tigers wherever he went.
‘Soon he came to a palace finer than his own. “Surely this is Paradise,” he said, and as he approached the gate he was led inside as if expected. His horse was taken to the stables and he was shown to a room where he could wash and change his clothes. A servant told him that this was the home of the king’s prime minister who was at present with his daughter, Bibi Maryam, the most beautiful girl in the land. As soon as Iskandar was dressed he was taken to eat with the prime minister. “Where are you from?” the minister asked. “I cannot say,”
the prince replied. “I had to leave my home because of a problem I cannot face.”
‘The next day Iskandar explored the grounds and in the garden he saw Bibi Maryam. She was singing. He was about to move forward to speak with her when he saw what lay at her feet. It was a tiger. Right then it lifted its huge head and stared at him with its green eyes. Bibi Maryam saw him. “Oh you are our guest,” she said. He backed away. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”
‘“Nonsense,” she said. “Come and meet my pet tiger.”
‘Iskandar forced himself to sit near her but he couldn’t take his eyes off the tiger. Soon she sang again and the tiger closed its eyes. Iskandar felt braver when it fell asleep. Bibi Maryam was the sweetest, most beautiful girl he had seen but could she feel anything for him, a coward? That night he heard the tiger snuffling around his door in the night and he made up his mind to go home. There were tigers everywhere, could the one in the dungeon be as much trouble as he thought?
‘In the morning he thanked the prime minister for his hospitality. “I must leave. I can now face the problem I left at home. I am the son of a king and I must not dishonour his name any more. If I don’t succeed I can never be king, nor ask for the hand of your daughter in marriage.”
‘The minster smiled. “Well spoken, Iskandar. I knew who you were: you are just like your father at the same age. Go, kill your tiger and I will give you my beloved Bibi Maryam.”
‘Iskandar rode home as fast as he could and when he arrived, he kissed his father’s feet and said he was ready to face the tiger. “Good,” said the king and he ordered servants to bring armour, a shield and a dagger. Everyone in the palace cheered Iskandar as he descended to the dungeon. The keeper of the beast unbolted the cage for Iskandar to enter. With the shield and dagger held high he walked into the cage. He almost stopped breathing when the tiger jumped to its feet. It was huge; its teeth looked so sharp. He stepped closer and gripped the dagger. Then suddenly the tiger purred and rubbed its head against Iskandar’s legs like a pet cat. The keeper took the dagger from Iskandar’s hand, and the king said, “See son, this tiger had been bred and tamed to test your courage, and your courage has been proved today.”’
‘Did he get the minister’s daughter?’ I asked quickly.
‘Zarur, certainly. And the two tigers played together.’
‘Did they do that trick with all the princes?’
‘In that family, yes.’
Padar regarded me and it was as if there was only us two by the fire. I thought then that tigers could come in all shapes and sizes. There was something all of us feared, me thinking my mother had left me, and maybe the explorers feared dying in the desert, and it wasn’t until we faced our tiger that we found it wasn’t so huge after all.
A few days later we passed the farm where the food came from, but they didn’t know what to make of our camels. That evening we reached Mr Clarke’s homestead. It was called Inderu. They treated us with great kindness. They gave us food, even jam, spirits for the Englishmen, as well as sending a letter for Mr Giles to Sir Thomas Elder’s agent in Fremantle. I decided to write another to Emmeline. A man came to meet us, a Mr Lefroy, and he took us to see his station as well. It was called Walebing and we stayed with him a few days.
They called us a caravan. Bushmen and children came from everywhere on their horses to look at us. Mustara became nervous with these people riding around him. Roshni roared when a boy on a horse galloped up close so he could touch him.
It was the first time I had seen Mr Giles uncomfortable, perhaps even afraid, and he wasn’t even in the desert. He didn’t seem to enjoy the attention. It was as if he was happier in the desert with just us and the animals to worry about.
We came to a monastery. Alec said it was a religious place. There were many Nunga people living there and they fired guns when we arrived to welcome us. I was startled at first but Padar said that’s what Afghans in the old country do: fire guns when they’re happy. There was a telegraph station as at Beltana and Mr Giles received many telegrams from important men in Western Australia: from the governor, the newspaper press and from Mr John Forrest. He was an explorer too, said Alec. Mr Giles read them out, for he said we all deserved what was written. They all said congratulations for making it across the desert alive.
‘Hoy, Taj. Here’s one for you.’ Mr Giles laughed as he held it high. I was the only one other than Mr Giles to receive a telegram. Everyone wanted to read it. ‘It’s from a girl,’ Mr Giles added. Alec slapped me on the back and Jess Young whistled. He was smirking at me but he didn’t seem unkind. ‘What does it say?’ Alec asked. Mr Giles finally gave it to me. I unfolded it.
Taj stop thank you for letter stop we are well stop keep safe stop love Emmeline stop.
The men were teasing me but I didn’t care. It was the word ‘love’. It stayed with me for long after despite the joking. Ever since Padar had told me my mother truly loved me, I could feel love in places I didn’t before.
Then Mr Tietkens said, ‘I wonder how long the congratulations will last, for we didn’t find permanent water so that others could cross easily after us. They can still only cross if they have camels and drivers.’
There was some discussion after this then Mr Giles said, ‘There will be many functions we will need to attend in Perth.’ He sounded as though these would be more of a problem than Mr Tietkens’ comment.
‘Are they just for the explorers?’ I asked.
‘For everyone,’ Alec said. ‘People will want to meet a real cameleer.’
‘It will be a damned ordeal,’ Mr Giles said, ‘but we will need to endure it as part of an explorer’s life. It can’t all be the fun of discovering now, can it?’
I wondered what could be worse than almost dying of thirst, seeing camels die, and fighting with desert people.
On the fifteenth day of November we marched under an arch at a town called Newcastle and it was the beginning of what Mr Giles called our triumphant march into Perth: the ordeal to be borne. We had to stand while the chairman of the council spoke. The camels knelt. There were many young English ladies. Alec was interested in them but they showed more interest in the camels.
We were invited to a feast. Mr Giles called it a banquet. At one point the chairman made some comments about Western Australia having enough explorers of their own. Mr Giles’ face turned red while some men in the audience cried, ‘Shame.’
Then Tommy was asked to make a speech. At first he said, ‘I don’t know what to say.’
A man near him said, ‘Never mind, Tommy lad, say anything.’
And so he did. He stood up, cleared his throat, looked at the ceiling and said one word: ‘Anything.’
Everyone laughed and the crowd was put in a good mood, even the chairman of the council. There was a ball held in our honour. I had never been to a ball before, and the men insisted that Padar and I and Tommy came too. It was good that Padar and I had kept our best clothes clean in the desert. Padar looked handsome in his turban and silk shalwar qameez.
The English ladies asked us questions about camels all night. Padar said ladies in the old country don’t talk to men other than their relatives, but he got used to it. Padar and I ate tiny English sandwiches and watched the dancing. Poor Tommy was so shy that when a young lady tried to pull him into the dancing, he ran and hid in the supper room. What a lot of things to tell Emmeline. Mr Giles found us finally and said to retire early, for our biggest ordeal of all was ahead.
At three o’clock in the afternoon we finally reached Perth. It was Thursday the eighteenth day of November. Many people rode out to meet us to escort us into the city.
The string was in desert marching order with Mr Giles in the lead. Mr Forrest was riding alongside Mr Giles. We crossed the bridge over the Swan River and marched until we reached the edge of the city. There we were met by the mayor, Mr George Shenton, and other members of the city council.
We had to sit on a platform; there were more speeches. They said lots of astounding things about Mr Giles and how he travelled across the desert with nothing stronger than water to sustain him. There wasn’t much of that either.
Mr Giles stood to speak and the whole crowd grew silent. ‘Thank you. Yes, we have survived the hideous desert between our colonies. We have passed through a baptism worse than that of fire – the baptism of no water.’ Some people chuckled. ‘Under Divine Providence we only succeeded in crossing with our lives by the aid of some special members of our expedition,’ and here he paused before he added loudly, ‘the camels!’
When he said this the crowd cheered, a drum rolled and Salmah roared. I could hear her above the din.
We felt very welcome to this new colony and all our expenses were paid for, even Tommy’s bills for refreshments at the hotels. Alec bought presents and gave them to the young ladies. It was easy for the danger in the desert to seem far away. We received invitations to more balls, dinners, riding and boating parties, and picnics.
At one picnic I supervised camel rides. Dyabun was at my heels and many giggling young ladies, older than Emmeline, wanted to have a turn on Mustara or Reechy. One girl stared up at me and sighed. ‘You look like an Arab prince from a book,’ she said.
Tommy told dreadful stories about the camels biting the girls’ legs if they weren’t careful, and eating their own calves alive. I didn’t have the heart to challenge him: we had lost so many. One girl swooned. Tommy was smiling so much I wondered why they couldn’t tell he was teasing.
Taj and the Great Camel Trek Page 15