Follow the Rabbit Proof Fence - Softcover

Garimara) Pilkington, Doris (Nugi

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0702233552 ISBN 13: 9780702233555

Publisher: University of Queensland Press, 2002

Synopsis

This is an extraordinary story of courage and faith. It is based on the actual experiences of three girls who fled from the repressive life of Moore River Native Settlement, following along the rabbit-proof fence back to their homelands. Assimilationist policy deemed these girls were taken from their kin and their land in order to be made white.

Never having seen the ocean before, the three girls' experience of transportation by boat to the settlement was tormenting. But their torment was just beginning. Settlement life was unbearable with its chains and padlocks, barred windows, hard cold beds and horrible food. Solitary confinement was doled out as regular punishment. They were not even allowed to speak their language.

Of all the journeys made since white people set foot on Australian soil, the 1931 journey made by these girls born of Aboriginal mothers and white fathers speaks something to us all.

About this title

About the Author

Doris Pilkington’s traditional name is Nugi Garimara. She was born in 1937 on Balfour Downs Station in the homeland of her Mardu ancestors. As a toddler she was removed by authorities from her home at the station and committed to Moore River Native Settlement, from which she escaped. She is the author of Home to Mother and Under the Wintamarra Tree.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence

By Doris Pilkington, Nugi Garimara

University of Queensland Press

Copyright © 1996 Doris Pilkington/Nugi Garimara
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-7022-3355-5

Contents

Title Page, 
Acknowledgments, 
Introduction, 
1: The First Military Post, 
2: The Swan River Colony, 
3: The Decline of Aboriginal Society, 
4: From the Deserts They Came, 
5: Jigalong, 1907–1931, 
6: The Journey South, 
7: The Moore River Native Settlement, 1931, 
8: The Escape, 
9: What Happened to Them? Where are They Now?, 
Glossary of Mardujara words, 
References, 
Black Australian Writing Series, 
Copyright, 

CHAPTER 1

The First Military Post

It was still very cool in the early summer morning; the fresh, clean air he breathed into his lungs felt good. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head then dropped them to his side. He was the first to rise. This was not unusual, Kundilla always woke before anyone else and this morning was no different from any other. He looked slowly around at the sleeping forms covered by warm, animal-skin blankets, lying outside their shelters made from branches and slabs of bark. There was no shortage of trees and shrubs around here, that is why this spot was chosen for the winter camp. Kundilla walked silently to perform his early morning rituals, away from the camp, which was situated in a clearing a hundred metres from the river. On his return he stopped along the banks of the river to pull up the fish traps he had set the previous evening. How peaceful it was, with the sounds of birds twittering high above, amid the leafy branches of the giant river gums, and the occasional splash of the fish in the river. Dawn was his favourite time of day. As the sun rose he could meditate and reflect on the events of the past few days but, more importantly, he could plan future activities without interruption and distraction.

Little did he know that soon devastation and desolation would shatter this tranquil environment; that this pristine forest would echo the anguished cries and the ceaseless weeping of thousands of people — his people — as they were tormented by foreigners and driven off their land.

His long, wavy, grey hair and thick white beard heightened his dignified appearance as he approached the camp carrying two fish traps filled with marrons and gilgies for his family's breakfast. He had power and strength which commanded respect.

Kundilla was satisfied with the results of yesterday's annual scrub firing. This was a special time on the seasonal calendar when his family clans from far around would gather on their territory to set fire to areas of dense undergrowth to flush out any game, such as kangaroos and wallabies, that might be sheltering there. All the men waited in strategic places around the scrub as the animals dashed out in panic. Then they either speared or clubbed them to death. The animal pelts were made into warm cloaks as protection against the bitterly cold winter winds of the south west. The smaller skins were made into skin bags with fur lining the inside to be used for carrying babies and as all-purpose bags.

Kundilla had two wives, the senior wife, Ngingana, had already lit the fire to cook the first meal of the day when he returned. She raked the coals and ashes to one side then dropped the marrons and gilgies on them. When they were cooked she pulled them out with a long green stick and laid them on the gum leaves. As she dusted the ashes from the food she called for everyone to come and eat. This meal was washed down with the cool water drawn from the soak under the thick bullrushes that grew along the river bank. Kundilla's second wife Mardina was breastfeeding their youngest child, Jalda.

Her two teenage sons, Wandani and Binmu, would soon be taken away to join several others who would leave the camp as boys to go through the Law and return as men. She glanced proudly at her sons and felt a pang of sadness. To her they were still boys, surely one more summer wouldn't make any difference. She was only their mother, the tribal elders had already made their decision and there was nothing she could do to change it. Mardina wiped the tears from her eyes then raised her head and continued to feed baby Jalda.

Kundilla's three married sons and their families were camped to the right of them. Others camped nearby, forming a semicircle. There were about sixty people in the group and for the hunters and fishermen this was the place to be right now. Some had travelled for many days from outlying areas to join this group while the food supply was plentiful here. Kundilla had planned to move soon to the mouth of the river so that he and his family could feast on crayfish, crabs, seals and shellfish. They all looked forward to this annual trip to the coast.

After breakfast, Kundilla sat under the shade of a large eucalypt away from the camp and began checking his spears and fishing traps in preparation for the coastal trip. Behind him the sounds of normal, everyday camp life continued: mothers and grandmothers yelling orders to their offspring, children playing games, some fighting and squabbling, others delightedly splashing and diving in the pool. As he reached for the sharpening stone to hone a spear, an ominous sound reverberated through the forest. The peace and tranquility was shattered by a loud boom. Alarmed and frightened, the women snatched up their babies and toddlers and ran to the men.

"What was that?" the people asked their leader. Even the flocks of birds were squawking loudly as they sought refuge in the high canopy of the forest.

"I don't know what that noise was or where it came from," Kundilla replied. "But we will go down and find out," he assured them. He called all the adult men to him and they gathered by a tea-tree clump.

"They're back. They've come to take away our women," he said in a voice filled with passion, anxiety and fear.

"Yes, but what can we do to stop them?" asked Bunyun, his eldest son. "You know what happened the last time they came ashore."

The men nodded as they recalled the incident; it happened to Bunyun's Uncle Tumi and other members of his family who usually camped further along the beach, near the cove. They were shot by the white raiders when they tried to stop them from kidnapping the women. The family were still mourning their dead.

Kundilla and his family had heard how their brothers and uncles were killed by ruthless white pirates, desperados and escaped convicts. Those cruel and murderous men came ashore and stole Aboriginal women and kept them on board their ships as sexual slaves, then murdered them and tossed their bodies into the ocean when their services were no longer required. These renegades made up the crews of the American whaling ships who hunted for whales and seals on the southern coast of Western Australia. Although the brave Nyungar warriors fought gallantly and fearlessly, they were no match for the evil white invaders with their muskets, swords and pistols.

When the invaders encountered the Nyungar people of the Great Southern region, they were pleased to find friendly, hospitable people. At first, the Aboriginal men welcomed the sealers and whalers. They were very interested in the boats in which the crew had rowed ashore. Through sign language they managed to indicate that they were impressed with the timber structure and design of the boats. These unsuspecting men were invited to visit the beach camp of the white crew as a gesture of friendship and goodwill; the women stayed behind, out of sight of the strangers.

The Nyungar made it known to the sealers that they wanted to be taken to an island (now known as Green Island) to collect birds' eggs. The request could not please the devious men more; it was just what they wanted. They readily agreed and took six men to the island and left them there, stranded without food or water. Meanwhile, they returned to the mainland and made a thorough search of the area beyond the sand dunes until they found the Aboriginal people's camp and kidnapped six women who were taken back to the whaling ships where they were brutalised and later murdered.

The whalers and sealers soon realised that the Nyungar people respected and revered them because they believed that these white men were gengas. They set up camps along the coast from Kangaroo Island, along the Great Australian Bight and the shores of Western Australia at what was to be called King George Sound.

Major Edmund Lockyer with a detachment of eighteen soldiers from the 93rd Regiment and fifty convicts were sent to King George Sound (where Albany is now situated) by Governor Darling in New South Wales, to establish a military base. Their aim was to deter renegade convicts, whalers and sealers. They sailed in the brig Amityand had been anchored offshore in King George Sound for over a month. On a hot summer day in 1826, Major Lockyer and two of his officers went ashore and climbed the cliffs and explored the harbour. They were delighted with the beauty of the coastal region but were not impressed with the soil.

The loud boom that had startled the Nyungar people was a salute from an eighteen-pounder cannon by the soldiers as they raised the British flag, the Union Jack, for the first time on the shores of Western Australia.

When Kundilla and his three sons reached the coast they weren't sure what to expect. As it was quite warm they decided to rest under the shade; it was here that Kundilla admitted to his sons that he was afraid. Suddenly, they heard voices of men shouting loudly and yelling back and forth. Kundilla and his sons became alarmed. They clambered up the cliffs and hid behind the thick bushes on the rocky ledge. Lying on their stomachs they peered over the edge. They were not prepared for the sight that greeted them. They were confronted not with shouting, cruel men, but different men wearing strange scarlet jackets and others in white, coarse cotton suits. All these men were very pale. "Surely they must be gengas," whispered Kundilla, as he moved closer to the edge of the cliff.

The strangers were speaking in a language the Aboriginal men hadn't heard before. They all had the same pale skin but they had different coloured hair. Some had hair like the colour of dry grass and others like the biguda and some had dark hair like their own. The white men had set up a camp site and settled in.

Kundilla and his sons felt a chill pass over them when they saw the reason for the commotion on the beach below. Two Nyungar men were being escorted by four redcoats to a small boat that would take them out to the brig anchored in the harbour. Later they were surprised and pleased when their countrymen returned, unharmed, to shore.

"These strangers are not here to cause harm," Kundilla said to his sons.

It seemed that the Nyungar men were only kept on board the Amity while Major Lockyer and a couple of the officers collected specimens of plants and soil, then they were released. When he realised that the strangers were not kidnappers and murderers, Kundilla decided to return to the camp and give an account of what happened on the coast. He would assure his people that the visitors would not endanger their lives.

The military outpost at Albany lasted five years, during which time the garrison and convicts began to suffer from the effects of isolation, loneliness and boredom. Captain Lockyer felt that they didn't really have the weapons to withstand an attack from the whalers and sealers; he and his men were too vulnerable. Eventually they returned to the growing lively city of Sydney leaving behind the tyranny of remote outpost living. Each day at Albany had been an ordeal for the Europeans, they were happy to see the last of the military post.

CHAPTER 2

The Swan River Colony

Two hunters knelt on the wet ground beside the small, grey doe kangaroo and began pulling their spears from its chest. Hunting in this cold, wet weather was always successful because in the rain, both large and small game are easy prey. Their tracks are clearly seen by the hunters and the animals are generally not so alert, with the weather hampering their vision and hearing. When the hunters' approach is masked by the rain, they can easily move up on their unsuspecting target.

Bidgup lifted the kangaroo onto his shoulders while his younger brother, Meedo, collected the spears and other weapons and they began to walk along the trail for home. They were camping at Boorloo, the tribal land at Yellagonga, a peace loving man, and his people.

Bidgup passed a firm green stick through the shanks of the kangaroo, then, with the help of Meedo, they lifted it onto a limb of a banksia tree. Meedo squatted on the ground beneath the paperbark trees and began looking for sharp cutting stones but before he could select any Yellagonga called everyone to a meeting. All except the babies, the old people and the sick, moved closer to their leader's shelter and stood or sat around the fires, waiting anxiously to hear what he had to tell them.

Yellagonga spoke with a clear voice. "We all know that these strange men, the gengas, have been coming to our land for a long, long time." Everyone nodded.

"My grandfather told me about them when I was a little boy. They usually sailed up the river in small boats, searching for fresh water and food, then left. But these gengas are different. And you know what happened not so long ago when Dayup and the others were invited to follow some of them to the river. The genga leader spoke to our men in his language, so they didn't understand what he said."

Those Nyungar men about whom Yellagonga was speaking had no idea what was happening when they met Captain Fremantle. The Captain told the men, the traditional owners who had gathered on the muddy banks of the river, "My government has advised me to meet with you and discuss this matter with you and seek your approval before giving your country an English name."

Dayup glanced at his kinsmen then stared back at the white man who was speaking. He knew by his manner and the way that the other men kept saluting him that he must be an important man, but what was he saying? Dayup only wished he knew what this stranger was talking about. When Captain Fremantle realised that his words were not being understood he decided to try sign language. This language barrier prevented a formal discussion; how could a stranger indicate in sign language that he was giving a foreign name to their traditional land? It was an impossible task and the Nyungar men became even more confused with the pointing and waving. Nevertheless, Captain Fremantle continued.

"All agreed, er, um gentlemen," he said standing to attention.

The Nyungar men glanced once again at Dayup, who was just as stunned and confused as they were. He put his hands out in front of him and shook his head in despair and frustration. He truly wished that he understood the language. He turned to his kinsmen and told them, "I don't know what he is talking about."

"I take it that we are all agreed and that I have your consent," said Captain Fremantle, nodding to the Nyungar men who stood motionless, staring blankly at him.

"Thank you gentlemen." He stood back, looking resplendent in his naval uniform, and announced in a loud voice, "I name this land Western Australia." Then he raised his eyes to the limestone cliffs and saluted smartly at the flag fluttering in the wind; the red, white and blue of the British Empire.

The gunboat HMS Challengerin which Captain Fremantle had arrived remained anchored in the estuary for several weeks. It had been sent ahead of Captain James Stirling and the settlers. The Nyungar people grew accustomed to seeing it there and sometimes watched in silence as members of the crew rowed up and down the river.

"Well, today," said Yellagonga, continuing his message, "Yalbung and Beeboo and their sons were hunting for possums near the river when they heard voices of men and the cries of frightened women. They told me that there were other very strange noises, sounds never heard in this part of the country. All this seemed to be coming from over the sandhills.

"They climbed the sandhills cautiously, crawling through the small shrubs until they reached the top and peered over the dunes. Normally this beach is deserted white, sandy expanse, but instead, a strange sight greeted them. Below, strewn along the shore, was an array of belongings, all sorts of things that these strange people brought with them. What's more, they brought their women with them this time," said Yellagonga.

"What does this mean?" asked Moody, his uncle.

"I don't know," he replied. "Perhaps they were shipwrecked."

What it did mean was that the first European settlers had arrived. Their landing in June 1829, during the wet, winter weather was a disappointing introduction to their new home. There they sat in their fine clothes, huddled together under a canvas shelter and watched glumly as the rain poured down on their trunks containing silk gowns, fine china, mementos and other personal belongings.

"The rain will ruin our furniture and piano," cried one of the women. "Do something, somebody, please. Save them please."

"We're doing our best, ma'am," answered a sailor as he tethered one of the horses to a wooden crate. "We have to bring all the livestock ashore first."

The other women remained silent, there was nothing they could do under the circumstances. Nothing but sit and stare at their precious possessions being soaked by the rain, in a land which was a wilderness to these downhearted ladies and gentlemen.

"Where is the Arcadian land that we heard so much about, the land of rustic paradise?" queried Christopher Marsden, a businessman from London. "This certainly isn't the place."

The others nodded in agreement. "We should never have come, Arthur," said one tearful woman to her husband.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence by Doris Pilkington, Nugi Garimara. Copyright © 1996 Doris Pilkington/Nugi Garimara. Excerpted by permission of University of Queensland Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Edition details

• Publisher: University of Queensland Press
• Publication date: 2002
• ISBN 10: 0702233552
• ISBN 13: 9780702233555
• Binding: Paperback
• Language: English
• Number of pages: 156