The Songmaster (38 page)

Veronica marvelled at the nonchalance of the legal men, when it was obvious everyone else was seething with indignation.

‘Frankly, I don’t believe this is any of your business.’ Rowena looked to Ardjani. ‘It’s what they want.’

‘So that also excludes you from having any input,’ snapped Beth quickly.

Rowena gave a crocodile smile. ‘There’s one way I’d give this up. I could sell it to someone else for a million dollars. Then you could negotiate with them.’

She’s a Venus flytrap, thought Mick. That’s what she reminds me of.

Susan was cheerful, wide-eyed, breaking the electricity that was sparking between Beth and Rowena. ‘I guess we’ll be hearing a lot more about your plans, seeing as we’ll all be at Marrenyikka together.’

Hunter had been standing on the fringe of the group and Rowena spun around. ‘Hunter? We’re moving to Marrenyikka. Pack the gear.’

The gathering broke up with Veronica hardly able to get to Rowena fast enough to lay claim to a radio interview. There had been an immediate understanding in the group that they needed Rowena at Marrenyikka while the legal team was there. Beth had been worried she might delay her visit to Ardjani until they had left.

Billy gave her a cheerful smile. ‘We have plenty of room, even have a spare tent.’

‘I’ll be staying at Ardjani’s. Where I stayed before. I’ll get my things together.’

The others eased themselves back to their paintings while Lucky sauntered over to the judge, well removed from Rowena.

‘You gonna fix her up?’ asked Lucky.

Mick patted him on the shoulder. ‘I think so, friend. Slowly, though.’

Lucky grinned at him. ‘Yeah, like huntin’ roo. Gotta creep up slowly, eh?’

‘What do you reckon she’s on?’ asked Susan, twirling a finger near her forehead.

Alistair stroked his chin. ‘She’s a complex woman, and dangerous, I’d say.’

‘I smell trouble,’ sighed Beth. ‘Big trouble.’

‘She’s a fruitcake,’ announced Billy. ‘A bloody fruitcake.’

Hunter loaded the four-wheel drive, lit a cigarette and waited for Rowena. ‘Nice vehicle,’ commented Mick. ‘Expensive.’

‘It’s not mine. She hired it.’

‘So you’ll be coming out to Marrenyikka with us. Know this area?’

‘Not really. I’m from over near the border originally. Went to a mission school for awhile, ended up in Darwin.’

‘Mission school, eh? Not a voluntary choice I take it.’

‘Yeah, I’m another one. Lost my family. But I’ve done all right.’

‘Yeah. Looks like it,’ said Mick, as Rowena swept down the steps from the house and went to Ardjani. ‘I’ll see you there. Hunter is driving me. He can camp with the others, okay?’

Ardjani grinned at her. ‘Good lookin’ fella.’

‘He works for me. He’s not my boyfriend.’

Susan walked up wearing a disarming smile. ‘We’ll be ready to move in a short time. Would you like to come in the Oka with us? I’d love to talk to you about the film.’

‘I’ll stay with Hunter, thanks. You’re welcome to join us if you want. Please yourself.’

Susan had a quick word with Alistair, telling him she would travel back with Rowena and Hunter. He appreciated the strategic opportunity this provided and quickly gave her some advice.

‘Queen’s Counsel instructing his junior?’ Mick raised an eyebrow.

‘Get in the van, Mick. Let’s hit the road.’ Beth began her round of goodbyes, handing Ardjani a bag of chilled steaks and chops, a present from Judy and Max.

Even on the rough track, Hunter drove with one hand resting against his knee, a study in macho nonchalance. Rowena beside him adjusted the airconditioning vent so it blew directly at her. Susan sat in the middle behind them, leaning her elbows on the two front seats.

She got the story of how Rowena had hired Hunter in Darwin, where he ran a fledgling tour guide service. She explained she was planning on bringing in a junket of overseas tourists for a brief look at the outback. But the more Susan asked about the proposed film, the more evasive Rowena became.

‘It must be an expensive project. Is it financed by a TV network or arts foundation or something?’

‘It’s privately funded. A philanthropist.’

‘Yeah, I wish there were more of that in Australia. Patrons of the arts are thin on the ground here.’

‘Nothing need be difficult if you believe that the spirits of the universe will provide. Or you make it happen yourself.’

All very well when you have a millionaire
father, thought Susan. ‘What do you mean, make it happen yourself?’

‘I was a druidic priestess in a past life, I’ve retained great mental skills. Combined with another life as a great warrior in China, I feel able to manifest anything I want,’ said Rowena calmly.

Susan wanted to laugh out loud, but ran along with her line of thinking for a bit, until Rowena got into more and more detail of her daily life in these other incarnations, and Susan began to tune out. She realised Rowena could only stay rational for a short time. It was hard to keep her talking about the present. An interesting ploy for avoiding the current subject, thought Susan. Was it deliberate? Alistair had given her a few ideas to draw Rowena out, but none seemed to be working. Susan wondered what Hunter was thinking, but the man’s handsome face gave nothing away.

The group in the Oka arrived back at Marrenyikka at twilight. Pulling up at the Barradja campfire to let Ardjani out, they saw Barwon having his face swabbed by Jennifer.

‘Having a facial?’ called Billy. Then taking a second look, he spoke for everyone. ‘What happened to you?’

Rusty and Digger, seated in chairs by the campfire, shouted a potted rundown. ‘He get roughed up by that old bloke, Jackson, from Boulder Downs Station.’

‘Barwon get in a couple of good ones, but,’ added Digger.

‘What!’ Beth jumped down, followed by the others.

‘Thanks, Jennifer. That feels a lot better now.’ Barwon tried to dismiss the incident. ‘There was a bit of a blue. He threatened me with a rifle. He called me names and told me to get off his land. And he said to tell you lot to keep off his land, too. I didn’t take kindly to his approach.’

‘What were you doing on Boulder Downs?’ Beth was annoyed that Barwon had got himself into strife again.

‘Doing a bit of investigating with Rusty and Digger . . . There’s a mining exploration camp there.’

‘A mining camp certainly puts a new light on the definition of a pastoral lease,’ said Mick, as he went over to Ardjani. ‘I’d appreciate it if you could perhaps join us later tonight.’

‘Yeah,’ said Ardjani. ‘Might be good idea, eh?’

Rowena settled herself in one of the Barradja’s box-like houses. Billy handed over a spare tent for Hunter, who expertly put it up while dinner preparations got under way.

Later, settled round the campfire, Ardjani, Rusty and Digger joined them. Hunter drew his chair into the circle.

‘The immediate problem is Barwon getting involved with Jackson,’ said Beth. ‘He could stir up the other neighbours.’

Alistair was unconcerned. ‘I doubt there’ll be a problem. Jackson is just as much at fault for threatening with a firearm, as Barwon is for trespassing. So what do you think is going on, Barwon?’

‘I would say they’re looking for gold or diamonds. It’s a pretty big and efficient exploration camp. Lots of samples on racks and some packed to be sent off.’

‘Did you know this was happening?’ Mick asked Ardjani.

‘No, we never go on Boulder Downs except across our track. Jackson always come with gun and threaten to shoot us. This mining be bad. Could destroy our paintings and sacred sites. What we do, Beth?’

‘I’d better just fill the others in.’ She turned to the group. ‘The Barradja are philosophically opposed to mining; it’s their law and spiritual belief that the earth should not be penetrated.’

Ardjani shook his head. ‘Our law says no. Other Aboriginal people, they can say yes, if mining doesn’t touch sacred sites, they make different interpretation of their law. Some other Aboriginal people like to make their own mining business. And they do good. But here, Wandjina creation place is sacred. The spirits live inside the earth. We can’t hurt them by diggin’ them up. No way.’

‘What if your people got royalties, Ardjani?’ Mick asked. ‘Would that make a difference?’

‘No, we don’t want diamonds. They belong
in Mother Earth. Look at how our traditional people live,’ answered Ardjani. ‘They have no agriculture. They don’t reap or sow. Nature provides the food and so we must care for the land in order to continue her cycle.’

Susan tried to get it all in perspective. ‘Well, the Jacksons certainly have another reason for keeping the Aboriginal people off Boulder Downs, but from what Mick says he might be shooting himself in the foot.’

Alistair explained, ‘Mining companies now have to get permission from the traditional owners of land before beginning exploration. Obviously Giles Jackson hasn’t done that.’

Mick continued, ‘He could have figured he was too far away and to go for it anyway. But if they do find something and apply for a mining lease, it won’t be granted until they go through the land titles procedure and get the site clearances and so on.’

‘They’re possibly thinking they can buy off the Barradja if, and when, they have a successful strike,’ suggested Alistair.

‘They never buy me,’ exclaimed Ardjani, in a rare burst of anger. ‘This is our land. We are not concerned with gold or diamonds or money. This land is our life. When people cut our Mother Earth, that cuts into our heart, our body.’

The outburst stirred Barwon and the rage that he had suppressed earlier in the day rose in his throat, almost choking him. ‘For Christ sake, there must be something we can do to get
some justice in this situation. How can Ardjani and his people be so damned powerless? How can they be pushed around like this? By people like Jackson?’ He stood up and stamped a few paces around the fire and punched the air with his fist. ‘You city lawyers are supposed to be the smart ones. What can you do about it?’

It was not so much a challenge by Barwon as a condemnation of the white ruling class and its failure for two hundred years to recognise the rights of the original inhabitants of the land. And it was a condemnation of the white ruling class’s failure to listen to the pleas of his mother. ‘So,’ he shouted, ‘what are you going to do about it?’ He looked each of the lawyers in the eye. ‘Well?’

The judge gave a little cough, then spoke quietly. ‘Perhaps we should discuss the full legal ramifications of the situation more deeply and offer some advice.’

Alistair quickly supported him. ‘Of course, Ardjani, if you and the other elders would like us to represent you, I believe I can speak for my two colleagues in saying that we will. On a pro bono basis, naturally, no charge. But I must warn that there are no easy solutions, no quick fixes for situations like these. As we know all too well, Native Title and all its ramifications are interpreted differently by various parties. Even the High Court and the Federal Government have trouble agreeing on it. That makes it very difficult for the rest of us to grasp it.’

Veronica had been following it all with increasing fascination. ‘You guys are in legal nirvana. Two extraordinary cases in the door in one day . . . and in the middle of nowhere.’

‘And you have the makings of one heck of a story, right?’ responded Susan.

Ardjani turned to Beth. ‘Perhaps we should discuss the idea we Barradja have to make a claim for some of our land. We want to bring our people back, away from the towns, the grog, where there is no work, no ceremony. To teach our people the old ways.’

Alistair realised this was not a new plan. ‘You realise that a Barradja land claim would open many other issues, not just the problem of the mining operation. Everything is intertwined, nothing is simple out here.’

‘Ardjani and the elders have made a stab at this before,’ said Beth, ‘but lawyers, bureaucrats, politicians and even disputes among Aboriginal groups have all muddied the water.’

‘So what else is new?’ sighed Mick.

‘May I suggest we adjourn until tomorrow as I think we’re all a little weary to take in the full details of this,’ said Alistair.

‘It has been a long day,’ agreed Mick.

Veronica yawned. ‘So, Beth, what’s on tomorrow’s agenda? Sounds like we’ll be staying here for the day and sightseeing is out.’