(As related to me over a pint of beer in a Portsmouth pub, May, 1987)
The eastern sky lightens as a new day approaches. It is time for we Mimih to withdraw, to retire into the darkness of the surrounding rock outliers. We need anonymity, as well as protection from the daytime breezes that threaten our long, fragile necks. A magical, focused breath onto the rock opens a crevice, enabling us to slip inside cosily for the day. The Stone Country resumes daytime existence.
Our nighttime has been busy. While the local Kun-wok families settled for the night, we were up and about, checking that the kids are all secure and asleep at their parent’s hearth. This is dangerous country for kids after dark, the time when bad spirits roam abroad!
Then there is the ceremonial ‘bisness’ happening not far away – a ‘bungal’. We can hear the deep resonant sounds of clap-sticks, the drone of the Yidaki, the rhythmic stamp of many feet on the sandy ground. We silently monitor proceedings. We listen intently to the ritual songlines from the lead performers. For a moment all sounds correct, but there is something out of synch.
We allow ourselves to become visible and perform the bungal correctly. We know there will be clever Kun-wok folk who will hear us and sneak over to watch and learn from us. It goes as planned, and song and dance routines are corrected and resumed.
But things take a turn for the worse. At night’s end, as we are making our way into our stone retreats for the day, I trip and fall.
I awake in daylight, exposed and frightened. There is a terrible whirring noise, louder than a thousand clap-sticks, filling my head. It gets worse as two light-skinned aliens approach. They have a huge sheet and quickly wrap me up. They carry me into the mouth of the whirring thing, and we fly away like a bird; high, and into a new world.
The pale-skins take me to a place they call Darwin. I am frightened, but they teach me about this new place. They appreciate my fragile, long neck and feed me special, neck-strengthening tucker. They cover me in itchy layers of cloth, and over the months, they even teach me to drive one of their things that race from one place to another.
Despite all the different things to do in this world, I really miss the Stone Country, the Kun-wok and my Mimih family. But I enjoy ‘driving’, and I get licensed to drive a taxi all around the place.
I move to Sydney and again drive a taxi. So many aliens running around, always in a hurry to get to another place.
I sometimes drive people to the big flying-bird place, and it is here that I met up with my Kun-wok mob. I could hardly believe it.
They have paintings and stories with them, to show the aliens. They have lots of news about families and some talk of my Mimih friends. We talk furiously as I drive them to their Sydney camp.