The Fethafoot Chronicles: The Bunya-nut Games: Booburrgan Ngmmunge

lore.

Chapter 1

Booburrgan Ngmmunge (Bunya Mountain, Qld, Heart-rock land) around 2014BP: or, when the modern calendar begins…

The sweating semi-naked black boy scaled the tall gum tree like the big lizard that was his totem. His resilient lithe young body surmounted trunk and limb with the same ease as his goanna totem.

Strapped to his shiny, muscle toned back and swinging out and around him as he climbed, was the bone target that he had been chosen to place. He climbed ever higher, shrinking in view to the watching elders below, until he reached the thin wind-swept topmost branches. Once there, he clung tight with his thin strong legs wrapped around the thickest branch he could find as he swayed to and fro in the clear blue sky. The branch he was on bent dangerously, barely supporting his small frame and he held on with one hand to the small branches above him to keep balanced.

From this vantage point he could see far out into the country around him. The smoke trails rising lazily into the clear air from the fires of the many groups already camped, thrilled him to bits: it meant that the wait was over - the Games would begin very soon now.

The boy gripped the swaying branch with his legs, wrapped thighs squeezing around it as he removed the loop with the dangling target from around his neck and placed it over the strongest green branch he could reach. After placing it, he carefully ensured that the bound kangaroo rib bones swung freely under the leafy canopy. His job done, little Wogwun looked down to the tiny figures of his father and one of the venerable local elders far below, awaiting approval to ensure that he would not have to climb back up to reset the important target. The youth had little concern for how long they stood deliberating. He loved to spend time high above the ground swaying with the cool winds and, watching the rapidly forming mass of people who were slowly beginning to fill the game’s camping areas…

Show-off

The two men had watched his small dark figure fly upward from the shade of a tree on the ground far below, and when he stopped they could still see the flash of his white teeth in the middle of his black face as he looked down at them smiling hugely.

That boy of yours is simply fearless, Djeran-Kirimudj, a Kubbi-kabi clan elder, said to the boy’s father Jundabara as they stood together and signalled the boy’s success.

Yah! He has made us proud, Jundabara replied, watching his boy almost slide his way back down the tallest tree around for a great distance. Wogwun has grown quickly and been through his first ceremonies – and he has passed all tests and shown a great awareness and uncommon skill, he added proudly.

As if hearing this praise, Wogwun decided that he would show off some of his innate athletic ability from halfway down the tree. Instead of moving carefully as he had been taught, he decided to jump from one branch down to another and then swing to a larger branch before climbing the rest of the way down.

The assembled men who had come to watch the final preparations for the boomerang contest suddenly gasped loudly. Both Djeran-Kirimudj and Jundabara abruptly extended their arms toward the foolish boy, as if they could assist him from where they stood helpless, as the limb that Wogwun had chosen to land on, broke off under his falling weight and sent him tumbling through the branches toward the ground…

Fethafoot spontaneity

His well-respected warrior father – a secret Fethafoot - was angry and astonished. He felt his power rise in him, ready to hurl his strong body up the tree to save his only child. But even as he cut through the air toward him, he saw his boy twist in mid-air and right himself.

Wogwun dodged branches that would have cracked his head or any other limb, then swiftly threw his arms out over an auspicious branch that somersaulted him feet first onto a large sturdy limb, a few men’s height from the ground.

The men on the ground gaped and uttered in awe as Wogwun stood shaking with fright, dazed, grazed and holding fast to the rough bark on the tree trunk, while he caught his breath and balance for the final climb down. Various witnesses were pointing toward Jundabara and his boy, slapping their thighs and each other’s backs, impressed at the skill and the boy’s quick-witted thinking in a lethal situation. Jundabara heard the men begin to shout and cheer as he walked the rest of the way to help his son to the ground. They reacted as though Wogwun had done the feat on purpose or had already won one of the contests here.

Jundabara glanced back to his friend and elder as he reached his son, who was down and leaning against the tree while checking over the cuts and grazes that his foolish act had caused. The look of relief and pride on the old man’s face suggested to Jundabara that perhaps his son had won something that day. In their often-brutal existence, the fight for survival could be short, sharp and keen, with the slightest hesitation often resulting in death for those who faltered. Jundabara’s anger at his boy’s near-fatal bravado mellowed…

Request for forgiveness

I’m sorry father, the boy sobbed, gripping his father’s legs and burying his head into his larger, stronger body. The branch held me on the way up, he sniffled as his father’s strong arms held him close. And I forgot the tree climbing lessons you taught me – about speed and weight joined together, being stronger than weight by itself father. Wogwun muttered sheepishly, as he realised now, exactly why his father had taken so much time to prove the difference to him. I have wasted your good time, father-mine, he said as his smaller cousins Guudji and Gneemul came to hug him, having witnessed the dangerous performance on arrival.

His mother arrived with them and she pulled him tightly against her bosom, her loving warm arms smothering him while whispering words of comfort and shushing him until his sobs slowed. Niyola glanced over at her man. The laughter lines at the corners of his eyes told her that she should not berate their son for his foolishness, or talk of punishment for disobedience – as yet at least. As she regarded her son’s many grazes, scratches, bruising and evasive eyes, she silently agreed, winking at her man and bending to check the boy’s legs and feet.

Finding only minor cuts and scratches, Niyola left her man to finish his business with the elder. She began to walk with her son and his younger cousins toward the creek, where she could clean and tend his various wounds and find the moss that would help heal the few deeper wounds. Niyola and Jundabara exchanged expressions of relief and joy as they parted: both understanding that they were lucky to still have a walking talking son this day…

Planning and mediators

Djeran-Kirimudj, the elder who would open the games and welcome all to the gathering, was sitting in the shade of the tall tree where the boy’s life had nearly ended a short time before. Jundabara sat next to him to learn how the preparations were going for the great occasion and to find out why the elder wished to see him.

I am thinking little Wogwun will think twice before trying that stunt again, the elder said, smiling with relief - one father to another.

Jundabara took up a cross-legged sitting position. "You can be certain that his mother will ensure he never forgets that lesson." He chuckled at all mothers’ tenacity to keep their children safe, as the elder grinned back, nodding sagely.

I felt your Fethafoot power rise and wondered if you would just fly up and save him in front of everyone, the elder said quietly.

It was unconscious on my part, respected elder, the warrior said, laughing to release his fear and the nervous energy that always accompanied such intense physical reactions. The old man gazed curiously at his young gifted friend, and then he shook his narrow wizened old head to clear it of that mystery and carried on with the matter at hand.

Tonight our clan will dance a welcome for the contestants and for the many guests on our lands. He gathered and poured some earth through his fingers and allowed the wind to whip it away. No rain tonight, he said, following the swirling dust with his experienced old eyes. It is a good omen eh Jundabara, he grinned, rubbing his hands together to clean them as he continued.

Tomorrow, we begin with the boomerang contest, he laughed. We are going to have many more entrants than usual this year, I’m sure. All I’ve been hearing is whose new ‘rang design will prove the deadliest and most efficient, he said.

Then, after all other contests are completed, we will return here to the final show of skill, which is the target that your boy placed above us. He chin-lipped upward, raising his eyes to the dangling target swinging in the breeze high above them – while thanking the Great Spirit that they weren’t wailing for a boy’s untimely death. He tore his gaze back to his friend and continued.

Trading will also begin tomorrow and the foot races will begin in the afternoon. I believe there are also a few marriage arrangements being worked out to take place while the gathering lasts as well – let’s hope them poor young fellas know what they’re in for eh! he said, grinning wryly at his wedded friend.

His old face became solemn as he told the Fethafoot warrior about several dispute settlements and some obligatory dispute conflicts that would need strong supervision to resolve without fatal bloodshed if possible.

I am hoping your particular skills will not be needed … too much, the elder sighed. He continued to give Jundabara as much information as he could before the running of events took up most of his time.

Although, I have heard of several ongoing disputes that could become somewhat ugly if not handled properly. I will ensure that you know where these are to take place before they begin, my Fethafoot friend. His smile returned, as he was happy to have someone trustworthy and able to handle this type of problem for him at such a large, long-term gathering…

Fishing Champion

"I will also name your niece tonight – young Gneemul of Bayla Island – as the fishing champion of the recent contest in the north, and if you will bring her to me, I will name you as the Game’s chosen guardian. Then and there, the many gathered here will know that you have our blessing and protection to control any shameless conduct. They will have no excuse to not listen to your advice and follow any direction you give, as though it was the full Council of Elders speaking," he explained.

The elder’s words suddenly brought to mind, the young warrior whose life had been turned around at that recent fishing contest. His own clan still spoke of the day when the Great Spirit intervened in his own and many other lives, on the final day of judging at that contest. This would be a great chance to utilise this man’s renewed convictions. The Fethafoot also knew from his wife Niyola - that Gootchun-gurri, the reformed Guwinmal warrior and former bully and stand-over merchant from her own Dreaming lands - had come with a group of young men, who now were attentive to the Law: and much more profoundly than they’d ever given to their former bullying leader, it was said.

A new guardian of the Lore

Respected elder, Jundabara began. There is a young man I would like to assist me in this responsibility if I may have your permission. He is called Gootchun-gurri, a Guwinmal warrior from my wife’s lands who has become a respected leader, since the Great Spirit visited him and opened his angry fearful mind and heart to the Law and his responsibilities. He has come with a small group of his former followers, who would also be useful here I believe, he explained.

Djeran-Kirimudj looked deep into his friend’s eyes as he spoke. "I trust your judgment completely my good friend, and I will be happy to announce this warrior as your man. Having a group for mediation may dampen some of the wilder spirits – this sits well. You have my blessing; it is a good idea." The elder’s eyes suddenly shone with curiosity.

We here have also heard of the Great Spirit’s visit that day warrior. Some of my own clan were there on that great day and came back with a story that thundered around our campfires for many a night, the elder said.

He gazed at Jundabara, hoping for more of the story from the warrior, but when there was no response, the elder nudged him along. I believe you and your well respected wife had some great part to play in this as well, my humble friend. Djeran-Kirimudj raised his thick grey-white eyebrows at his companion, inviting more firsthand knowledge of the event.

Truly, our role matters little, Gumaan Kirimudj. Jundabara used the name for a respected elder, or grandfather, and his friend’s skin name. Our people needed to be shaken out of their selfish stupor - and this angry young man had his own part to play in that – which became a lesson in humility for all there, including myself, Jundabara spoke quietly. That is what I believe happened that day, elder friend, he said, dismissing further enquiry as gently as possible.

Djeran-Kirimudj smiled at Jundabara’s humble silence, knowing that most warriors he knew would use such an incident to their own advantage, boasting casually and at length about their part in it. This man was a Fethafoot however, the old man understood.

The two men stood and stretched, before bowing heads respectfully and moving away to perform their various responsibilities for the great event. Jundabara understood that the elder had much to do before the welcoming ceremony that evening, when leaders from the many tribes and clans attending would have a chance to speak. He knew that he needed to find Gootchun-gurri and his party of young men and also spend some time with his own small family, before the night’s ceremonies began…

Chapter 2

Work and play

Niyola had chosen a shaded area as close to the creek as possible, though secluded enough for her family to enjoy some small privacy as well. Jundabara walked through the trees; giving respectful berth to the other encampments popping up everywhere, when he saw the man he sought playing the popular skin-ball game with his boy Wog, who seemed fully recovered from his ordeal. Gootchun-gurri and his group of young men were playing the fast and furious game of buroinjin, in a semi-shaded clearing within a natural circle of tall gums.

It seemed that Wog was almost flying in his wild energetic jumps for the ball.

Madat, Jundabara called as he entered the game, calling greetings to the group.

Madat! Madat, madat, Jundabara, came the replies as they apportioned a spot on his son’s team to the warrior…

Not for the faint-hearted

Gootchun-gurri had the burionjin, while Wogwun’s team were trying to put themselves between him and his team-members in attempting to intercept his throws. A player could only take the ball if he or she was off the ground when they took the tightly rolled and bound skin-ball. If they took the ball while touching the ground, the other team was given the ball immediately. Therefore the jumps were furious and often blocked as members of the other team crashed into the airborne player.

Not a game for the faint-hearted, Jundabara thought, laughing as he prepared to jump as Gootchun-gurri threw. The ball went high into the air to give his own teammate the best chance to catch it, but before Jundabara could spring up and contest for it, Wog ran at him and launched his small wiry body straight up his father’s body. He climbed it like a tree and then, leaping from his father’s broad shoulders, he grabbed the skin-ball before dropping lightly to the ground to stunned silence: for the first time since the game had begun early that morning.

Even Jundabara had never seen that move before and he judged by the looks on the other players’ faces that none of them had seen such a move either. Niyola’s shout of Ei! Ei! Ei! on the sidelines broke the spell. She’d suggested the move might be possible to her son, and when he actually accomplished it she was in stitches of laughter and yelling proudly at her son’s athletic energetic skill. Wog had immediately thrown the ball to one of his team and the game quickly moved on…

Former bully

Gootchun-gurri, who was so unlike his former bullying arrogant self, walked to where Jundabara and Wogwun stood laughing together to congratulate the boy.

Ei! Never ever seen anything like that before! he told Wogwun and his father, landing congratulatory slaps on Wogwun’s back and shoulders.

Little Wog showed his gleaming teeth as he laughed proudly over at his mother in gratitude, before he left the men and re-joined the game. Both men turned to watch the boy’s wild antics as he faced large groups of opposing teams, raising dust clouds as they slid, jumped and crash-tackled each other up and down the field. The men joined with the few morning spectators calling encouragement, until Jundabara requested they move off the playing field, first to the creek to wash and then to the shaded area of their camp.

After both men had refreshed themselves from the clear spring creek that ran from the sacred Booburrgan Ngmmunge, they sat together on the log that Wogwun, Niyola and he had rolled to near the campfire for this purpose. Niyola brought them some of the bulyum grubs that she and Wogwun had gathered, along with some of the small sacs of sweet honey that her man and son had collected early that morning. Served with the meal, as with almost every meal they would eat here, were the small round balls of Bunya-nut bread that was the staple ingredient of their food at this gathering. The men sat quietly, watching the burionjin game and eating until the platter full of delicacies was all gone. Now they could speak…

Offer of trust

Jundabara explained his request to employ him and his men as peacekeepers during the festival time, elaborating when the warrior beside him merely smiled and nodded.

Djeran-Kirimudj, the Kubbi elder who will open the games tonight, Jundabara told the curious warrior, "has said he will announce us as his men for this festival. He smiled wryly at his former enemy. I have asked that your group of young men be involved as there will be many events and disputes – far too many for one man – and you and your group will be needed, of that I’m sure." He searched Gootchun-gurri’s face for a response.

I am truly honoured, great warrior. Gootchun-gurri had tears forming at the edges of his earnest dark eyes as he spoke. Since that great day, I have upheld my vow honestly and have learned much about men and our Laws – all of which I have passed onto my group, he told the warrior who had almost killed him back then. The elders that you have had teaching us, have shown us that there are many ways of fighting - and of stopping fights, he said, displaying the humility that had won over many of his own clan after that incredible day. We will be there and we will not betray your trust or that of the Game’s elders. He looked Jundabara directly in the eye to confirm his promise.

Good! It sits well! the Fethafoot said, rising as he scanned the area for his wife.

Go to see Djeran-Kirimudj and find out where and when he wants you tomorrow and let me know at the corroboree tonight eh. Jundabara paused as he turned and looked his new colleague in the eye. And thank-you Gootchun-gurri. Your mother and father would be proud of you if they could see you now.

Jundabara left a surprised and grateful Gootchun-gurri to weed out his men from the game, while he went to speak with his wife and arrange their meal before the day’s work began…

‘Crab-hunter’ wife

You have made a friend – and perhaps helped to mould a good warrior there with that man, my husband, Niyola said as he stooped to move into their small shelter.

Not I. The Great Spirit turned that one’s life around and just in time to help his people remember their duty to maintaining the links – and to each other, Jundabara smiled. Have you seen our son since he used me as a tree to climb? He surveyed the roiling tumult of the game that had been going hard since first meal and appeared as though only darkness would finish it.

He came for food, swallowed it and left, but I told him to come back when your talk had finished, she said. She viewed the dusty sweat lathered crowd caterwauling at each jump or miss.

She laughed and pointed as a small mud-boy with glowing white eyes and teeth broke from the pack and ran quickly in their direction…

Just a little longer!

Wogwun skidded to a halt in front of his parents. Why Ma-Dad? - Why do I have to stop? he said, panting from his exertions. All the other kids are still playing! He peered earnestly from one to the other in his excitement to run back and play, but mom and dad just looked at each other and burst out laughing, remembering similar entreaties from their own mouths many years before.

All of these players will have to stop and get ready for the dancing and opening ceremony soon, Wog, Niyola said as she held his small arm and pointed him toward the creek. You don’t want to miss that, or turn up looking like a mud-man, do you son? she said as she led him complaining to the small creek. Your father is to be honoured and your cousin announced as fishing champion, she reminded him.

Her voice trailed away as Jundabara raked the earth-oven to prepare last meal.

In the sky above him, Booburrgan Ngmmunge became turquoise and lavender as the sun dropped lower – following even its own ancient path in the scheme of things - the mystic warrior thought dreamily, as he watched the sun set and automatically apportioned the hot steaming food from the fire, to accompany the gathered food-items that his small family had gained in their travels today…

Chapter 3

Opening Ceremony

The area for the welcome dance was almost as colourful as the various feathered and painted men and women that began to appear from the surrounding small camps; decked out in all of their very best finery.

There were more people than Wogwun had ever seen in one place at the same time. He held Niyola’s hand tight as she led him through the huge crowd. His wide eyes beheld scantily clad warriors and women with white, ochre, red, and even black on white patterns scribed across their bodies. Several of them frightened him, despite knowing they were painted and decked out for dance and not evil shameless ones pursuing him. Niyola’s warm reassuring touch led him to the front of the crowd, where he could see his father standing with some of the respected elders near the big flat ceremonial rock, now covered with all types of thick animal skins. There were lots of different types of spears standing in the earth around the rock, including Wogwun’s own clan’s symbolic feathers fluttering in the light breeze that had sprung up with the evening coolness…

My people

Jundabara stood with Djeran-Kirimudj at the front, and from here he could see all the various tribes from near and far represented. He felt a great pride well up as he surveyed the largest gathering of his people that he too – as with his boy – had ever seen together at one time.

There were rainforest people, desert people, coastal, mountain clans and others he knew, but had not encountered before. As Djeran-Kirimudj took his place on the high flat rock, Jundabara caught sight of his beloved and Wogwun standing at the front of the crowd, both proudly sporting their clan markings. Niyola was also wearing her warrior status emblems – one of the few women permitted because of her unusual abilities and little known Fethafoot exploits with her man.

Jundabara looked behind, to spy Gootchun-gurri with the seven men he had travelled with from their lands. They were also decked out in painted body markings and intricate headdresses, and carried several deadly weapons. A formidable group of warriors, he thought, pleased with his choice of aides as the elder began to speak…

The custodians of the Dreaming lands you stand on

I am Djeran-Kirimudj, The elder raised his voice to gain attention.

I am of the Kabi clan and Kubbi-kabi people, as were my father and his father and his father before him. I have been chosen by the carers of the land we stand on to open this part of the festival, and the Games that will begin tomorrow, he said.

The crowd fell silent.

The men you see standing here, he pointed to the group of elders who had formed to his right, are the tribal leaders who are responsible for the care and maintenance of the lands around our sacred Booburrgan Ngmmunge.

The elder took a breath, allowing the crowd to identify each of the elders.

These are the tribes and clans who generously allow you to walk this sacred ground and share in the bounty, which their great sacred trees give forth when the season is good. He swept his arms out around himself to take in all the surrounding lands and the outlines of the great trees.

Each of the elders climbed the rock to stand beside Djeran-Kirimudj as he called out the name of their tribe