Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence

by Pilkington, Doris

  “I am sorry but I can’t do anything to stop them taking our daughter away from us,” he said finally.

  She couldn’t accept his excuse or forgive him for just standing by and doing nothing to prevent their daughter from being taken away from them. She packed up and moved to Wiluna.

  6

  The Journey South

  The three girls were not used to rising before dawn so they settled down in the car and fell asleep. When they opened their eyes they realised that they had slept longer than they expected. They had passed through Ethel Creek and Roy Hill stations and were on the main road to Nullagine, which was an unsealed dirt track, full of pot holes and fine red bull dust that seemed to fill the car.

  They were so exhausted they couldn’t cry anymore and they spoke only in whispers and sign language.

  Except for a curt, “You girls awright back there!” the policeman didn’t speak to them or tell the girls where he was taking them. All they knew was that they were going to the settlement to go to school. The rain clouds were gathering and by the time they reached the bend where large grey boulders loomed above on either side of the road, the sky was black with rain clouds. Riggs glanced up at the dark clouds, while his passengers in the back sat silently watching the landscape change as they passed through it. They paid no attention to the beautiful scenery or the long shadows of the tall river gums. Their interest was aroused only when they saw animals such as kangaroos, emus, horses and camels. Otherwise, they sat quite still until one nudged the other to look at something as they passed by.

  In his role as a Protector of Aborigines, Constable Riggs had been on the move for over a week and would have completed the round trip when he arrived at Marble Bar. Except for a brief pause at stations along the way they spent most of the day driving. At 2 o’clock they arrived at Marble Bar hospital where Riggs admitted the sick women, then he handed Molly, Gracie and Daisy to Constable Melrose for removal south.

  Constable Riggs returned to Nullagine at 5pm the same day. With great relief and satisfaction he notified the Chief Protector of Aborigines in Perth by telegram. “All halfcastes and sick natives transported Bar train tomorrow report earliest. Riggs Const.” 21 July 1931.

  It was late afternoon when the party reached Marble Bar. When they arrived, Constable Melrose handed Molly, Gracie and Daisy over to his wife as he had to visit the local Aboriginal camp to attend to a young girl who was sick and had to be taken into the Marble Bar hospital.

  “Feed them an early supper and I’ll lock them up in the empty cells,” Melrose told his wife. “I want a good night’s sleep tonight.”

  And so while Mimi-Ali and Nellie were resting at the Marble Bar hospital, Molly, Gracie and Daisy spent the next few days at the Marble Bar police station under the supervision of Constable Melrose. Nellie remained in hospital when the others later boarded the train under the escort of Constable Pollett to Port Hedland. Travelling by train was much better than by car but Molly, Gracie and Daisy were growing weary. The girls knew that they had left behind the rugged landscape of the East Pilbara when they sighted the blue-green ocean. They were fascinated by the beauty of the sea, but had no idea what they were doing there until they drove down to the wharf and were handed over to the captain of the State Shipping Service vessel the Koolinda. It was berthed at the harbour waiting for high tide. After Constable Pollett handed over the documents to the captain, he turned towards the nervous young girls and told them that the captain would be taking them all the way to Fremantle.

  Captain Freeman called to a member of the crew, Gwen Campbell, the stewardess. “Here’s another four for you. There’s Molly, Daisy, Gracie and the woman with the fractured femur is Mimi-Ali. Take them down to their cabins,” he said.

  Campbell asked the girls to follow her to the lower deck while another crew member carried Mimi-Ali in a stretcher. So, on the 26 July 1931, Molly, Daisy, Gracie and Mimi-Ali sailed south to the Port of Fremantle. A telegram was sent to Chief Protector of Aborigines in Perth. “Half-caste girls Daisy Mollie and Gracie and crippled gin Ballerallie [Mimi-Ali] from Marble Bar forwarded Koolinda last night care stewardess stop please arrange meet and have stretcher for Ballerallie. Pollett Constable.” 27 July 1931.

  As the vessel chugged slowly out into the deep, blue waters of the open sea, the three girls anxiously clutched their bunks, overcome with fear. They let themselves roll from side to side until they got used to the grinding and murmuring of the ship’s engines. Then they stretched out on their bunks and went to sleep.

  The next morning after breakfast, Gwen Campbell coaxed them out on deck. “Come and see all the big fish,” she said, as she beckoned them to her. “We may be able to throw a line over this afternoon and catch some for supper.”

  They stood near the railing and watched as the mulloway, schnapper, kingfish and many other types of fish darted this way and that in the ocean below them.

  As the days wore on Gwen Campbell tried gently to gain their trust but they remained shy and frightened. George Johnson, a crew member, told them of the exciting and fascinating places he had visited. He spoke of the pyramids of Egypt and how these unusual burial places were built by slaves.

  “Slave people?” they wanted to ask him. “Are they like us or the same as you?” But they were too timid.

  George told them about the many races of people in the world. The girls liked to listen to his tales about the countries that he had visited and also about the places that he would like to see. Sometimes he and Gwen encouraged the three youngsters to go for a stroll on deck in the evening, while it was pleasant and warm. They were good sailors, George told them. During their evening walks he taught them the English names for the stars. On calm nights he would tell them to look to the night skies.

  “Look over there. That’s the Southern Cross,” he would say. “If you are ever lost in the bush, let it be your guide. If it’s a clear night, look for it. Remember, the Southern Cross is found in the south-west of the dark sky.

  “And there’s the Big Dipper, see up there,” he said, pointing to the thousands of twinkling stars. The girls saw it but said nothing. They just nodded silently.

  “Now, it’s off to bed you go. In a couple of day’s time we’ll berth at Fremantle,” Gwen told them, as she escorted them back to their cabins. “Good night,” she said and she closed the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The girls didn’t see George the next morning, he was on early shift. Raymond Baxter was escorting them instead. “Gwen is busy with other passengers. She’ll come down later,” he explained.

  Raymond was a lanky sailor with red hair and freckles all over his face. His bright blue eyes twinkled as he laughed and yakked with the others. He wasn’t as old as his friend George but they liked him as well. They were all leaning against the rail around the deck when Raymond shouted excitedly, “Look over there. Porpoises.” Porpoises, thought the girls from the Western Desert, what are they? As if reading their minds the red haired sailor explained, “They are the smallest species of dolphins. You see them in all the oceans of the world.”

  The girls watched with great interest as the six graceful mammals sailed into the air and nose dived smoothly into the turquoise ocean.

  The porpoises lept up in pairs as if the movements were choreographed by some unknown being. The girls stood mesmerised while the ship rose and fell as the huge waves swelled and heaved beneath them and they watched until the beautiful creatures were out of sight.

  “It looks like we’re in for wet weather,” said Raymond, breaking the magic spell. “The clouds seem to be building up in the west.” Just as he finished there was a roll of thunder followed by a flash of lightning.

  “Yes, we’re in for a wet night. You’d better go back into your cabin. Come on then,” he said.

  They settled back in their cosy, warm cabin, and “read” comics that the sailor had given them. Although none of the girls could read, they looked at the pretty illustrations and tried to guess what the pictures we
re saying. The sea was getting very rough and they were beginning to feel frightened and worried. What if this ship tipped over with too much water! They might get drowned. But the stewardess Gwen, supported by Raymond, reassured them that the Koolinda was a big, safe ship and certainly would not sink.

  “You all go to sleep now. It will be better in the morning. The worst part of the storm will be over,” Gwen told them.

  The three girls and Mimi-Ali, all from the rugged Pilbara region, had a most pleasant experience sailing down the coast of Western Australia. The weather was sunny and warm from Port Hedland to Geraldton but the further south they sailed the colder and wetter it became. The winds were strong and cold, and the rain made it impossible to stroll on the decks of the ship. Even the beautiful blue-green ocean was changing as they neared the outer reefs of Fremantle Harbour. It turned a dark green colour and the dull grey sky seemed to be reflected on the rough, choppy sea. But as they drew closer to the harbour there was a break in the weather, patches of blue appeared between the grey clouds.

  After breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast and sweet, hot tea, George Johnson led the way up to the wet deck for the last time.

  “We’re nearly there. See over there,” he said, pointing to the coast. “That’s Fremantle.”

  The small sailor leant on the rail, puffing his pipe. As the ship sailed closer to the shore he removed the pipe to explain what was to happen next. “Here’s the tug boat, the tug master will come on board and take us into port.”

  They watched with interest and curiosity as the tug drew alongside the Koolinda to allow the tug master to transfer from his small boat to sail the ship through the reefs to the safe shipping lane.

  “That man knows these waters like the back of his hands, and he’ll guide us through the channel to dock safely in the harbour,” said George.

  “Ah, there are the wheat silos and do you see the other building north of it, the one with the big dingo on the tower?” he asked. “Well, that’s where all the flour is made. That’s where they grind the wheat that is stored in the silos. They send bags of flour all over the place.”

  As the red dingo became more visible, Molly, Daisy and Gracie felt an acute pang of homesickness. How many ration bags had their mothers, grandmothers and aunts used with that red dingo—midgi-midgi dgundu—on them? Scores and scores when you think of all the dampers they cooked. When the bags were empty the women made them into bags for carrying food and other items or filled them with old rags and used them as pillows. Bloomers and shifts were also cut out of the flour bags. Yes, they had grown up with the red dingo. Tears welled in their eyes as they remembered their families.

  Gwen Campbell’s soft voice brought them back to reality. “Come on girls, get your belongings and I’ll take you all ashore with me. Eh, by the way, you will need these,” she said, as she handed them gaberdine raincoats, which she advised them to put on right away, and a comb and a mirror each. These they put in their calico bags.

  After five days of sailing down the coast of Western Australia, they arrived at the Port of Fremantle.

  Ten minutes later the girls were following the friendly stewardess without any hesitation down the gangplank and were very relieved when their feet touched the strong timber wharf. They were totally unprepared for the sights and sounds that greeted them. The atmosphere and activity of the busiest seaport in the state was overwhelming and frightening. They huddled closer to the stewardess, seeking her protection. Men were rushing about and yelling; some were watching the cargo being lowered down onto the wharf by huge winches. There were hundreds of bales of wool and crates of dairy produce waiting to be loaded onto ships for export overseas. The girls had never seen so many white men in the one place before. They were very pleased when Gwen Campbell finally said to them, “Here’s someone now, see over there.”

  Matron Campbell (no relation to the stewardess) from the East Perth Girls Home—now the Jack Davis Hostel—waited quietly near the ambulance for the officers to bring Mimi-Ali down the gangplank and for the stewardess to hand over the three girls from Jigalong. Gwen Campbell greeted the Matron cordially. “There are four of them this time,” she told her. The ship’s crew had done this quite often during the past twelve months.

  Matron Campbell said that the Department of Native Affairs had already been advised of the girls’ removal from Nullagine so she was expecting them. After delivering the three very shy girls, Gwen Campbell returned to the ship to continue her other regular duties on board. Matron Campbell led them to the ambulance that was waiting to transfer Mimi-Ali to the Royal Perth Hospital. All three climbed in the back and sat on the stretcher beds and waited.

  The drive from Fremantle to Perth was comfortable and interesting. The moment they left the wharf they changed from shy, confused girls to curious, young tourists, interested and amazed at everything they saw, which was all new and different to them.

  From their seat in the back of the ambulance, they had a view of the choppy, murky, brown Swan River. Then, as they cruised down Mounts Bay Road, along Riverside Drive, and turned into the bright, lively city, the girls saw hundreds of men wearing suits of brown, grey and navy blue, and each of them wearing hats or caps. There weren’t too many women strolling or shopping around town. The few they saw were escorted by men.

  It was over a century since the foundation of Western Australia and Perth was now a bustling, thriving capital. There were industrial and commercial buildings everywhere and two and even three-storey department stores and offices. While the girls were staring up at the buildings, a tram trundled noisily past them. It caught them unawares and they jumped back with fright.

  “That’s a tram. People pay to ride on them,” the Matron explained, bemused at the startled looks on her charges’ faces.

  There were so many cars and trucks coming and going in this big place. It was too mad for the girls. They knew that they could easily get lost in this man-made environment with so few trees and only small patches of bush. To them the city was a noisy and unfriendly place, they didn’t like it one bit so they were glad to arrive at the East Perth Girls Home. The Matron led them through the gate and knocked on the front door. It was opened immediately by the cook.

  “Eh, come in,” she beamed cheerfully. “You are just in time for morning tea,” she added as she ushered them into the dining room.

  “I am Mrs McKay,” said a tall, neat, slim lady. “Come and sit down and tell me your names.” Her friendly manner helped the girls to relax while they waited for the tea. The delicious smell of baked fruit scones filled the air.

  “You’ll join us, won’t you Miss Campbell?” Mrs McKay asked the officer.

  “Yes, thank you. I have time for a quick cuppa,” she replied, sitting down at the large dining table. She couldn’t resist the tempting aroma of the scones.

  The girls from the remote outback of Western Australia sat nervously as the tea and scones were served. They had never shared a meal with a white woman before so they waited until Mrs McKay coaxed them to join in.

  “Come on, don’t be shy, eat up, then you can freshen up and have a rest,” she said warmly.

  Miss Campbell stood and thanked Mrs McKay for the morning tea. Before she left she turned to the girls, there were four of them now, a girl from Moora named Rosie had joined them.

  “I’ll be picking you up in the morning to take you all to Moore River, so be ready,” she said.

  The girls began to clear the table when two very attractive sixteen or seventeen-year-old girls came giggling into the room and dumped large paper bags of groceries on the table.

  “I am Nora Graham from Sandstone, a mining town in the Murchinson, up near Mt Magnet way,” said a short, plump girl with short dark brown curly hair. “I am waiting for a job on a station anywhere around there.”

  “And I’m Eva Jones from Halls Creek. My father is a prospector there. He was the one who sent me down here to go to school,” she said proudly. “He’s coming to pick me up soon to take me home,
” she added. Her eyes sparkled as she thought of him and all the other members of her family in the Kimberley waiting for her return. The four youngsters introduced themselves.

  “We only come down to go to school at the settlement too, then they will send us back to Jigalong,” said Molly convincingly.

  But what none of these girls realised was that their fate had already been decided by their new guardians, the Commissioners of the Native Affairs Department. Sadly, in only a couple of weeks from then, Nora and Eva would find that instead of returning north as they hoped, they would be sent further south to work as domestics on dairy farms. This would also be their introduction to exploitation and deception; a hard step along the path of life that would have so many twists and turns. As for returning home to their loved ones, well, that would not happen for many, many years.

  It was almost nine o’clock when Matron Campbell arrived the next morning to pick up the four girls. Molly, Daisy and Gracie sat in the back seat while Rosie hopped in the front. They sat still and waited for Miss Campbell, and to begin their journey north. Their uneasiness disappeared when they realised that the view from the car window was quite pleasant once they left the city. The landscape changed regularly as they drove along.

  The girls from the edge of the desert were fascinated by the lush green pastures and bracken that grew thick and high beside the road. Molly, Daisy and Gracie nudged each other when they saw something that captured their interest, like the majestic red gum trees, the lakes and the herds of dairy cows and flocks of sheep. They pointed at the lakes that were filled with water.

  A few hours later, Miss Campbell pulled up under a huge marri gum tree opposite the Mogumber Hotel and went inside. She returned with sandwiches and lemonade for the four girls.

  “There you are,” she said. “Pass these around. The road is fairly safe so we shouldn’t have any trouble from here to the settlement,” she told them as she started the car.