Charlie Smithers: Adventures Downunder (The Charlie Smithers Collection Book 3) by C W Lovatt

Author:C W Lovatt [Lovatt, C W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-11T20:00:00+00:00

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With the fires burned low, and the bones of Wadjari and the two women raked out of the ashes, and decently interred, the rites of initiation proceeded without delay.

Another day had passed while the initiates were starved and forcefully deprived of sleep. On the third morning, the poor devils were taken out of their enclosure, one by one, and held down by guardians while their foreskins were cut away with what seemed to be the cutting tool of preference around these parts: a sharp piece of flint. One might have thought that the poor lads would howl with the excruciating pain of it all, but by this time, the young fellows had been deprived of sleep for so long, that I don’t think they realised what was happening until it was over. Then, with their wounds stopped with ashes to staunch the bleeding, they were taken away and finally allowed to rest.

I had kept a close eye on Liam throughout, and visited him every so often, but he seemed to be resigned to his fate, and had become less talkative as a result. I thought that was a pity, for obviously there were still a great many questions I wanted to ask, but considering everything else that was going on just then, there simply wasn’t the time, and as I said, Liam hadn’t the inclination. So I curbed my impatience, contenting myself by reasoning that we were going to be in one another’s company a good deal for the foreseeable future, and much could be gleaned in the interim. As for his safety, I reflected that there were times when it wasn’t such a bad thing to be considered a god. The Jirkala-Mirning were aware of my wishes, so had offered the Irishman no violence, keeping their distance with only the occasional scowl. The Irishman, himself, seemed content to steep in his solitude.

Meanwhile, returning to the festivities, there was only one other event of any note before the celebrations began in earnest: a youth, somewhat older than the initiates, had been put through rites of his own, which was the next step on the road to becoming a man, and I shudder to think of it even now.

His preparation had been much like the others, in that he fasted and was sleep deprived for three days, until the poor soul didn’t know which way was up, or down. Jacko claimed that the youth had made a journey to Dreamtime, and he might have, for all I know, for one thing was certain: by the third day, he wasn’t in the here-and-now. So again, when he was seized and wrestled to the ground, he couldn’t have been very aware of what was happening, which was just as well.

With a stalwart holding his legs, and two others kneeling on either shoulder, an elder came forward and, taking the poor blighter’s willie in hand, stretched it to its full length. Then the back of it was incised down the full length to the scrotal area, splitting it open like a sausage.

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