I reach 11 is black liand touched the top rail of the fence and his drugged black eyes watched the sun setting as his lips still moved to the hypnotic rhythm of the blood chant. He watched the cows and the kangaroos in the paddock and in his feathered shoes he made his way to the trees be­hind the homestead.

“Get that Birrawong gin in here to iron these clothes Arthur, I’ll have to look after baby.” The white woman mopped up the baby’s vomit as she spoke. “And tell her to sleep by the stove in here to-night, in case