Central Australia, either at or about 1850.
Warm, warmer than usual in late spring in the desert following heavy winter rains. Greenery abounded. Early blooms had produced an abundance of
native fruit. On this cloudless day, Cjunala and his eldest son were walking gently, carefully upon the rocky terrain up a rise, flatfooted against
the a slight northern breeze. Cjunala called quietly to Cjinaja while sniffing the breeze. "Slow, slow, Cjinaja." Making eye contact with his son
communicated that no more chatter or noise of sorts will be had between the two. The son was now to remain behind his father and copy the taller
mans every move.
His father carried 2 spear and a woomera and was deft at accuracy to 60 running paces. The son managed a large club for dispatching all manner of
mammals, birds or lizards. Approacing a ridge crest the leader lowered his stature to below that of the mulga and spinfex gaining a good view of the
gully below. Across to his left he could see Ballabal creek still flowing in criss cross patterns over the sand and silt. And yes, as he knew, there
were many kangaroo. Big man one kangaroo with many woman and girl kangaroo spread out along the gully mixing with the tall grasses and keeping shade
amongst larger mulga and gumtree. Just one would suffice to feed his family who were gathering berries and desert fruit further up the creek.
A reheased plan for Cjunala was outlined in silence to his son. The use of his lips, brows and eyes translated his very moves and what reaction
Cjinaja was to take.
While observing the mob below Cjunala could see a sudden unease ripple through the family of kangaroo. Ears were twitching. At first Cjunala thought
he had been discovered but he followed the gaze of the mob to his left and could see another sun like light gaining in intensity just above the
horizon. There was black smoke too. The object impacted the desert ground about a mile west of the water course. Much fire followed by a resounding
boom. The big noisy thing jumped up! It came down again. Boom. Smaller fire again before it rolled into the creek silt. Of course the mob below
scattered up the gully. Not ten paces away one kangaroo backflipped when it saw the man and his son causing it to fall with a resounding crack. Not
according to his father's plan Cjinaja sprang over the ridge and was upon the hapless animal and clubbed the kick out of it.
Cjunala had a brief thought and vision. This was meant to happen. His son was man now, important. The big thing from the sky had delivered food for
the next day. He walked to his son, "Heh heh hee." Placed his free hand on Cjinaja's shoulder. "Good man, good man." Both then turned their gaze
to the object in Ballabal Creek. Spinifex was burning along direct lines from were the thing had bounced and rolled. Eagle and kite were arriving,
diving outside the flames for small lizards and mammals. The thing itself was steaming in the shallows. There were some pieces shining but this big
egg was shattered. The father balanced the roo upon the sons shoulders and the pair made their way quickly towards the burning spinifex. Trained
eyes could already see lizard running from the flames.
Crossing the creek over silt and rubble. Both men placed their implements and the roo on the ground. Cjunala speared the dead roo into the softer
ground, gathered some fresh gum leaved branches and covered the carcass. He then selected the woomera and along with Cjinaja weilding the club ran
and scouted outside the fire line upwind. Sure enough, goanna, young turkey, bilby and other numerous ground dwellers were zigzagging through the low
scrub. Both men killed and collected an assortment, yelling gleefully and holding up each catch until they could no longer account for and carry
Arriving back at the kangaroo the pair placed their kills under the leaves. Laughing in celebration the father and son realized there would be food
for a week now and they would have to return to the camp and have the women and younger ones come back to help them carry the lot back. At about 100
walking paces, the broken thing in the creek was still lightly steaming. Father looked to the sky, "We have time to thank this egg then return." The
older man and the new man collected their weapons, the roo and some goanna and walked to the object. Cool water flowed over their ankles prompting
them to drink keeping eyes on the shining egg. The thing was taller than the men and about 8 paces long. They stopped about five paces away. "Big
big egg" said the father. "it's from big big bird!" "Ah!!! there is someone crying." The shiny and burnt patched oval egg was split from apex to
apex. Indeed, there was a resounding cry or whipering coming from inside. "Might be spirit", said Cjinaja.
It was at this point the stronger women and one other young boy could be heard calling out. The family approached from the camp direction. The men
yelled and waved as they could and made their way to the women, who, instnctively were a little apprehensive of the scene. There was much banter and
Cjunala explained the situation. This was repeated and corroberated by Cjinaja. Big story for a long time, maybe forever. In the background the
whimpering within the split shell grew louder. The men handed their kills to the women and with the spears, woomera and club tentively walked over
and peered inside the split egg thing. Cjunala whispered, "There is someone, little child, we should help." With that he reached in and pulled on
the upper limb of the child. The child squarked like a bush turkey scaring the man momentarilly. Cjunala had to unwrap the small being from covers
and lifted it through the crack. Tragically he dropped it into the water from sheer astonishment. It was like nothing he'd seen. The entourage
stood wide eyed and gaping around him. The child body was the colour of dark clounds and had eyes like goanna. There was no nose but a mouth was
gasping. Poor thing was thin, no hair but still had an outer skin covering body and limbs. The older woman Cnungari, wife of Cjunala ran and picked
the child up out of the shallows, She said loudly, "We gotta help it." With that all of the family there set to making up a shelter with branches and
leaves. Cnungari sat under the shelter cradling the being. Rocking gently and lightly singing.
The men moved camp to this location bringing the old and young ones. Fires burnt around the perimeter while Cnungari sang through the night. At
sunrise she commenced wailing. The being was cold and dead. The others joined in unison.
The being was placed in the sacred hills about a days walk from Ballabal Greek. There was much sadness for this visitor from the sky. But life goes
on. Ballabal Creek flooded many times and changed course over the next 150 years and the remains the big egg were buried beneath the soft silt and
rubble. Later overgrown by the native vegetation. The story is remembered in song which is still sung in locale classrooms to this day.
edit on 2-9-2017 by bally001 because: (no reason given)
edit on 2-9-2017 by bally001 because: spelling