Kakadu Calling

by Jane Christophersen

No sooner had he spoken than his line went running out. He caught the line and pulled it in. It was another catfish.

  ‘I don’t reckon there’s any barramundi in this river,’ Brolga said.

  ‘Brolga, you have to be patient,’ reminded his father.

  ‘Well, what about the catfish? What do we do with them?’

  ‘If your mother doesn’t want them, break their spikes off and leave them on the bank for the crocodile. You can’t catch his food and then waste it. If you don’t have a use for it, you must give it back to him.’

  The boys carefully broke the poison spikes off the fish and left them near the edge of the river. They leapt onto the rocky ledge and watched the crocodile as it glided up to the bank, snapped its jaws at one of the catfish, and slid back into the water. The crocodile tossed its head and the catfish disappeared into its mouth. It came back for the other fish, and then swam off down the river.

  ‘I think he knows that you boys are his friends and that you’ll feed him. Don’t go close to the water though. You can never trust a crocodile,’ said Brolga’s father.

  They all decided to go back to camp and wait until it was cooler before doing any more fishing. While they had been fishing, Brolga’s mother had gone hunting at the billabong. She returned to the camp with two long-necked turtles, a handful of freshwater mussels and a large file snake. Brolga’s mother had to poke in the mud with her digging stick to hunt for the turtles and snakes, but she was able to dig up the mussels with her hands.

  The boys raced around gathering wood, and soon tempting cooking smells wafted through the camp. Little Minnie sat on Brolga’s lap, and she clapped her hands as she tried to say, ‘turtle turtle’.

  After lunch, they went into the cave for a rest. It was cool with a breeze blowing and before long everyone was asleep.

  Later in the afternoon, when Brolga woke up, he said to Jimmy, ‘C’mon, we have to catch our barramundi.’

  The boys woke the others and wandered out of the cave. For a moment they stood looking out over the plains, watching the wild horses grazing. Down on the billabong, geese, ducks, egrets and jabirus swam amongst the blue and white waterlilies. Up in the sky, were two great sea eagles, dipping up and down in the air currents.

  ‘I wish I was an eagle flying high. Just think how far you could see from up there,’ Jimmy said.

  Down at the riverbank, the boys decided to use mussels for bait. Again, they just caught catfish.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll cut it up for bait. You might have better luck,’ said Brolga’s father.

  The boys threw their lines out and sat on the bank watching the crocodile. Nothing happened for a while, and then Jimmy saw his line going slowly out. He grabbed the line and it tightened in his hand. He saw a big fish jump out of the water.

  ‘You’ve got a big barra! Don’t pull too hard when the line tightens. Let it run and when it slackens, pull it in quickly,’ Brolga yelled.

  Jimmy played the fish up and down the bank, careful to keep an eye on the crocodile. He slowly worked the fish to the bank and pulled him in.

  ‘Yippee,’ cried Jimmy. ‘I’ve got my fish! Mum’ll be pleased.’

  Brolga wasn’t very happy though because he was still waiting for a bite.

  ‘I don’t like all this waiting’, he complained.

  Suddenly, Brolga saw his own line being fed into the water. He let it go for a while, then picked it up and gave it a big jerk. He felt the line tighten and then he saw a big barramundi jump into the air. His father came and helped him bring the fish in.

  ‘What a whopper!’ said Brolga. ‘Dad, that’s our supper tonight.’

  The boys cleaned the inside and the gills of the fish, but left the scales on so that they would cook better on the coals. They would take the skin off when they were cooked, and that way the fish were nice and clean to eat. They left the innards and gills on the riverbank for the crocodile.

  ‘I think the crocodile will have a full belly today,’ said Jimmy.

  Later on, while they were collecting wood, Brolga saw one of the sea eagles fly down behind some rocks. It did this a few times and Brolga wondered what it was after. When he climbed to the top of the rocks and looked down, he saw a baby dingo pup wedged at the bottom. The eagle was trying to grab the pup with its claws. Brolga quickly grabbed a handful of stones and threw them at the eagle. It flew off, but it continued to circle around. Brolga could see the poor pup was shivering, and he could hear it whimpering. He slipped down between the rocks and pulled it out.

  ‘It’s alright,’ he whispered.

  When Brolga got back to the camp, he called out to his father, ‘Dad, look what I found! Can I keep him?’

  Brolga’s father was surprised to see the pup. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘You’ve stolen a meal from that eagle. He could have taken that pup to feed his family. What are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know, I just want to keep the pup,’ said Brolga.

  ‘But what can you give the eagle in exchange?’ his father asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you took the eagle’s dinner. Will you give him your dinner?’

  Brolga wasn’t very happy with this idea. ‘Aw, Dad! That’s the first big barramundi I’ve ever caught. I want to eat it.’

  ‘Well, think about it, but don’t be too long. The eagle is waiting.’

  After Brolga had thought for a while, he told his father he still wanted to keep the dingo.

  ‘Then you must take the fish and place it on the rock where the eagles can see it,’ said his father.

  Brolga laid the fish on a big flat rock and soon the two sea eagles were flying around and around, getting closer. One finally made a scoop — his claws came down and he seized the fish. Jimmy and Brolga jumped up and clapped their hands. The boys watched the eagles fly up to the face of the cliffs where they had their nest.

  ‘I hope they enjoy their meal,’ sighed Brolga.

  ‘We can cook my fish for our meal tonight, but you have to help me get another one for my family tomorrow,’ said Jimmy.

  ‘I will, truly I will,’ promised Brolga.

  After dinner that night, Brolga fed the dingo pup. Little Minnie kept calling it ‘dinky dinky’, so Brolga said, ‘I’ll call him Dinky.’

  Brolga and his family returned home the following day, and the first thing Brolga’s father did was build a pen for the dingo pup.

  A couple of months later, when Dinky had grown big, Brolga’s father said, ‘When we take Dinky camping again, you must let him off his rope. It’s cruel to keep him tied up, especially if he can hear his friends calling.’

  The next weekend, when Brolga and his family were camping at their special place, Brolga let Dinky off his rope. Dinky explored the camp for a while but then he went and settled down next to Brolga.

  ‘I don’t think he’ll leave me,’ Brolga told his father.

  ‘Wait until the morning and see. Dingoes are wild dogs, and Dinky might want to return to his life in the bush,’ said his father.

  In the morning, Brolga woke to find Dinky was gone.

  ‘Dinky gone, Dinky gone,’ said Minnie over and over.

  Although Brolga felt sad, he was also happy that Dinky had been his friend, and he knew it was better for Dinky to be out roaming free. Maybe he’ll see him again some day.

  Maidje

  Maidje and her cousin were sitting around the fire one night when Maidje’s mother said, ‘Tomorrow we’re going into the bush to collect pandanus leaves, so that I can teach you how to make baskets and mats. We can also gather roots and berries to make some colourful dyes.’

  The girls were happy to know that they were considered old enough to learn bush skills. Early the next morning they set off with Maidje’s mother. They carried a tomahawk, their digging sticks, a billycan and some dillybags.

  As they walked along the creekbed, Maidje’s mother said, ‘Make sure you look for sugarbag in the trees.’

  ‘Yumm, I feel hungry for suga
rbag,’ said Maidje, as she went up to a paperbark tree and looked closely at the trunk.

  ‘Me too,’ said her cousin.

  But the girls couldn’t find any of the wild honey, and Maidje said, ‘Never mind, maybe another day.’

  Before long they came across some pandanus palms. Maidje’s mother had already cut three sticks from a stringybark tree, and made a hook at each end. They used the hook to pull the outer leaves of the pandanus back, so they could get in and pull out the centre leaves. After they had gathered enough leaves, they carried the bundles down to the creek. The two girls had a short rest under the shade of the paperbarks while Maidje’s mother prepared for the dyeing. First she lit a fire and put the billycan on to boil some water, and then she got the pandanus leaves ready.

  Maidje and her cousin got up and grabbed their digging sticks, and went off to dig up roots from a tree they call the ’colour tree‘.

  Maidje’s mother reminded them, ‘Make sure you don’t chop the tree down, just cut off a small part of the roots. It’s okay if there’s some bark and timber mixed in because we’ll crush it and boil it up together. It makes a beautiful orange colour.’

  Maidje and her cousin went off with their dillybags and the tomahawk. Once they had collected the roots from the colour tree, they also gathered seeds from the sandpalm tree to make a blue–grey dye, and other plants and seedpods to make a rich purple colour.

  When the girls returned, they got all the seeds, plants and roots ready for boiling in the water. Each time they boiled up a new colour, Maidje’s mother would soak some pandanus leaves in the water for about fifteen minutes, and then hang them up to dry on an old dead tree. Soon the tree was covered in a rainbow of colour.

  Maidje’s mother said, ‘While the leaves are drying, let’s go and look for some file snakes and long-necked turtle to take home.’

  The girls happily agreed and they ran off down to the creek. Maidje’s mother followed and soon they were all scrunching their feet in the mud.

  Suddenly, Maidje’s mother said, ‘I’ve got a turtle under my foot.’ She bent over and skilfully pulled a big long-necked turtle up out of the water.

  ‘Yuk aiy!’ the girls screamed with delight.

  Maidje yelled, ‘I’ve got one too!’

  The girls put the two turtles in the dillybags high up on the bank, and then went back down to the water to search for file snakes. File snakes have rough, raspy skin and they live in the water amongst the pandanus roots, so the girls stayed close to the edge of the creek.

  Maidje and her cousin used their digging sticks to prod around in the leaves and roots, and before long they had each grabbed a snake. They pulled them up out of the water and quickly threw them onto the bank. They tried again and before they knew it, they had caught six snakes. They decided to eat two for lunch and take the rest home for their family.

  ‘C’mon now, I’ll show you the proper way to kill a file snake,’ Maidje’s mother said.

  ‘I know, I know already,’ said Maidje excitedly. ‘But can you show me once again?’ she asked her mother.

  ‘All right. Now, hold the snake’s head tightly and put it in your mouth like this,’ Maidje’s mother said, as she put the snake’s head in her mouth. She quickly bit down on its head, and at the same time pulled down on its body. There was a clicking sound as the bones in the snake’s neck snapped.

  Both of the girls swallowed hard, but Maidje was feeling brave and she carefully followed her mother’s instructions. Soon another snake was ready for the fire. The fire had died down so Maidje’s mother put some more wood on. When the coals were ready she spread them out.

  She told the girls, ‘To cook the snakes you must first roll them up in a coil and then place them on the coals. After a while, turn them over with a stick to cook on the other side. After the snakes are cooked, you can peel off their skin to let them cool.’

  The girls cooked the snakes to the satisfaction of Maidje’s mother, and they sat down to a delicious feed.

  They lay down to have a sleep and a rest before the walk home. When it was time to go, they split the load of pandanus, file snakes and long-neck turtle between them.

  For the next two weeks, Maidje’s mother and the older women taught Maidje and her cousin how to make a large fish trap, baskets and mats. The girls were pleased to be learning these lessons, because they knew it meant they were now considered to be young women.

  JANE GARLIL CHRISTOPHERSEN is an elder of the Bunitj clan in Kakadu National Park.

  Jane’s stories are about the daily wonders of life in the bush and include messages about respect and the importance of caring for our environment. She believes that it is important for families to pass on knowledge through their children, and that experience is the most valuable way of learning. She hopes that her stories remind parents and children of those small miracles that happen in our world each day.

  Her first children’s book My Home in Kakadu was a Notable Book in the 2006 Children’s Book Council of the Year Awards.