AFTER supper the family moved to the wide verandah at the rear of the homestead.
They settled in solid but comfortable chairs. Some sat on the verandah steps.
“My grandfather settled this property with a herd of cattle which he drove overland from down on the coast. He was the first person to settle this area,” the owner said.
He gazed from the verandah up along the valley with tree-covered hills on either side. The river flowed lazily along the valley floor and passed to the west of the homestead.
The young man explained to his friends that when his grandfather first arrived, he decided to settle in this area because of the rich pastures and the beauty of the valley and surrounding hills.
Most important was the river with its abundance of waterholes suitable for raising cattle.
One day, shortly after his grandfather had settled there, a small group of Aborigines came down from the hills and chased the cattle away from the waterholes.
His grandfather grabbed his rifle and shot two of them.
One of them died on the spot. The other one, although wounded, managed to escape with the help of his friends.
“Grandfather said that he had seen them again on many occasions after that, but they always disappeared into the bush if our fellows were carrying rifles.
“Over a period of time Grandfather and others in the area shot quite a few of them and the remainder were driven off to other areas and finally they were put on the reserves.”
The young man looked back up the valley into the gathering darkness and remembered his grandfather with pride and joy.
A little 10-year-old girl with long blonde hair listened with interest, but said nothing, pondering these many things in her mind as her father spoke about their past.
She looked up at the campfire, far up the valley on the side of a hill and wondered who could be camping away up there.
The Aboriginal group had stopped near a small waterfall, on a gully which ran down the hill to join the river in the valley below.
The group was on a bushwalking and camping exercise, as part of their training, learning from nature, and the elders, about the tribe which lived in the area before the arrival of the white men.
“My grandfather used to live here,” one of the group said. “This was our tribal territory. It extended all over these hills and down this valley below us.
“Grandfather told us about the first time the white man came to this area. They brought cattle with them and settled in this valley.”
The group looked down the valley from their campsite on the hill and pictured their ancestors living in such a beautiful and tranquil scene.
“The cattle walked right into the waterholes and made them muddy and spoiled the water supply for Grandfather and his people,” he said.
“We had never had cloven, hoofed animals here before. Kangaroos and wallabies drink from the bank without despoiling the water. Their long, flat feet did not muddy the water or dig up the banks.”
“Grandfather said that one day he and other men of his tribe attacked the cattle and chased them from the waterholes.
“One of the white men came upon them and shot one of our tribe dead and wounded my grandfather. Other men helped Grandfather to run into the bush. The white man did not follow. Grandfather was nursed back to health using bush medicine.”
“Over a period of time, the white men chased us and killed many of our tribe, as more white men settled in the surrounding areas.
“Eventually our people moved into neighbouring tribal areas and then finally were rounded up and put on reserves, where many of our people are to this day.”
He looked down the valley in the gathering darkness. He noticed the lights of a homestead come to life, and thought of the history of his family in this area.
He remembered his grandfather with pride, tinged with sadness.
A 12-year-old boy sat by the campfire and listened with interest, but said nothing, pondering these many things in his mind as his father spoke about their past.
He looked down at the lights of the homestead at the far end of the valley and wondered who was living there now.
Clara Russell looked up from her desk in the classroom and gazed slowly around the room at the other students working on their assignment.
She was pleasantly surprised when Kevin Cubby, another student, greeted her with a warm friendly smile.
She returned to her work, wondering what her great-grandfather would have thought about her being in the same class as an Aborigine at the university.
She settled down and continued writing the story her father had told her about her great-grandfather on the back verandah of the old homestead 10 years before.
She still wondered about the campfire in the hills and wondered who it was who camped there that night, and where they might be now.
Kevin Cubby too, was engrossed with his story about his great-grandfather’s first encounter with the white settlers, back in his beloved valley.
He remembered the words of his father, 10 years before at their campsite overlooking the valley and remembered the lights of the homestead away in the distance. He wondered who had lived there and where they were now.
- The above story relates two versions of the same incident. Both views are correct, but if it were to be written in our history books the European view would be the view reported.
It is time for the Aboriginal view to be considered. Now is the time to enlighten the world regarding Australian history. The wheels of change turn slowly, but they do turn.
Peter Smith is a former chairman of the National Aboriginal and Torres Starit Islander Council (NATSICC) and the author of the book The Wheels of Change. He is a descendant of the Kamilaroi people of south-west Queensland and north-west NSW.
