Steve Brown's Bunyip, and Other StoriesBarry, John Arthur
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Steve Brown's Bunyip, and Other Stories
Barry, John Arthur
Australia -- Fiction; Sea stories; Short stories
‘Suddenly, all springing to their feet, they ran backwards, then,
wheeling together, threw their spears. But the height beat ’em. There
was a strong breeze blowing, too, hot as from a furnace, right against
them. Quite plainly that game wouldn’t answer, so they squatted again
and started another consultation.
‘Meanwhile the day grew hotter. The rock was actually blistering my
skin through the light clothes I wore.
‘Bathing my head and face brought relief.
‘Being quite a new chum with respect to blacks and their ways, I half
expected that, now, seeing they couldn’t get me down, they would raise
the siege and be off.
‘Nothing, it appeared, could be further from their intentions. The
confab over, some lit a fire on a small, clear space close to the
water, whilst others went off towards the dead heifer, shortly
returning with great lumps of meat, which they roasted and devoured.
‘After this, they all got up, and coming quite close, one went a
little apart from the rest and pointed at my head, which was all he
could see, with outstretched arm.
‘Then his fellows formed a circle and danced and yelled, patting their
bellies, and going through the motions of eating and drinking.
Presently the gaunt, black semaphore was altered, pointing towards the
sun. The dancing and shouting ceased, and, sitting down, the party
began to display symptoms of the utmost distress.
‘Once more the arm shifted, this time towards the water, whereupon the
whole crowd stiffened themselves out as if dead.
‘Another dance round and a song, and the semaphore put himself in
position again and pointed in the direction of the homestead.
‘Instantly all but two sneaked off into the tall grass. The pair left
behind lay down beside each other, feigning sleep. Suddenly, with
terrific yells, the rest sprung upon them and went very realistically
through the motions of beating the sleepers’ brains out and thrusting
spears into their bodies.
‘The first portion of the pantomime I took to mean that they were
determined to stay and see how long I could withstand the combined
effects of heat, hunger, and want of water.
‘The second was only too intelligible, and for the first time made me
feel a sharp pang of anxiety for those at home, totally unwarned, and
off their guard.
‘How, as I watched the brutes, did I wish and long for that rifle,
hidden away back there, or—best of all—that newly-imported
breech-loader hanging over my stretcher at the station.
‘It was getting late in the afternoon. The rock was casting a long
shadow, and my dripping body beginning to feel a little cooler as the
sun lowered. Slight though the scratch upon my leg was, it smarted
terribly. I was also very hungry, and altogether in anything but a
happy frame of mind.
‘Foreseeing a night of it, I carried and rolled big stones to the
edge, placing them so that at a touch they would go crashing down.
‘Darkness fell at last, and with it came the moon, nearly at her full.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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