Power of Pinjarra by Sandra Dengler

Author:Sandra Dengler [Sandra Dengler]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781441262554
Google: uGbd1xK6Q_8C
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2012-11-25T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The Span of Time

“In the beginning there was a terrible drought, the first and worst drought ever. Grass was gone, trees and kangaroos dying. The young men complained, ‘Why are the old men not making rain? That’s their job.’ They didn’t understand that this drought was so fierce the old men were powerless.

“All but one, Wirinun, the wisest of them. He had power. For three days he made his magic at the only water hole left in the land. Then he told the young men to build bark humpies against the rain. The young men laughed behind his back, but they did as he said. He worked more magic. Then as the young people slept inside their new humpies, he and other elders marched around the outside of camp, carrying all they owned.

“The clouds gathered. Lightning struck the ground and thunder roared like it had never roared before. The young people hid in their humpies, terrified. The wise old Wirinun, though, stood in front of the camp and with his magic prevented the lightning from harming the people. He began to sing. The lightning ceased. It started to rain. And rain. And rain. The people praised his power, but he remembered when they laughed at him. So he took them to a great claypan. He made rain fall on the claypan until it became a huge lake.

“‘Go,’ he said. ‘Go out and spread your nets and fish.’

“The young men laughed again. This was a rain lake not even a day old. Fish could not live there. But they did what he said because they feared his power. They cast their nets and drew them in full of fish! They caught fish enough for all the tribes and the dogs as well. And thus with rain did the old man prove his power.

Indirri sat back, his tale complete. Were his audience children, he would have included details of the magic, such as the two secret stones and the stick fitted with white cockatoo feathers, and the song Wirinun sang. But these were adults, none except Mungkala from his own clan, and two of them whitefellers. He would certainly never reveal a detail of magic within hearing of a whitefeller. Whitefellers wielded too much power already.

Because Indirri’s whitefeller yabba was none too good yet, Goonur translated for him during pauses. So careful was she to get the meaning exactly right that she asked him twice to clarify some item. Those glorious blue eyes were the door to a splendid heart.

One of the whitefellers, Lucas Vinson, sat cross-legged across the fire from Indirri. His pallid face registered the most amazing expression of pure wonder, as if he were a child of six wets. He spoke only whitefeller yabba (also a speech called French, which nobody else in the world speaks), so Goonur would insert a word of translation here or there whenever she saw Indirri look confused.

Vinson shook his head. “Amazing parallels between your story and the Bible! For example, on at least two occasions, Jesus told Peter to go out and catch fish, using nets, of course.

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