Where Myth Meets History and Love Knows No Boundaries.
‘The Coming of the Yirraalii’ blurs Myth and history together to create this gripping tale about two lovers, Balagaan and Gawngan, who are caught between the timeless world of the Dreamtime and the disruption to it caused by the coming of the Yirraalii.
The tale is told in two parts: the first part celebrates the rich culture and life of the Aboriginal people of Australia prior to colonisation; the second part graphically depicts the impact of colonisation on the people and their culture.
‘The Coming of the Yirraalii’ is a moral tale and a truth telling of Australia’s untold past that offers hope for reconciliation and a brighter future for all of us.
Where Myth Meets History and Love Knows No Boundaries.
‘The Coming of the Yirraalii’ blurs Myth and history together to create this gripping tale about two lovers, Balagaan and Gawngan, who are caught between the timeless world of the Dreamtime and the disruption to it caused by the coming of the Yirraalii.
The tale is told in two parts: the first part celebrates the rich culture and life of the Aboriginal people of Australia prior to colonisation; the second part graphically depicts the impact of colonisation on the people and their culture.
‘The Coming of the Yirraalii’ is a moral tale and a truth telling of Australia’s untold past that offers hope for reconciliation and a brighter future for all of us.
Two wiry men with skin as dark and smooth as basalt, stood in the middle of a large clearing in the sprawling rainforest. They were Clever Men and they had important things to discuss.
The sun woman was still early in her path across the sky. The air was hot and still and smelt of the rich earth of the rainforest. Soft grass spread like a huge mat across the clearing. Anyone stumbling upon it would think that the clearing was a natural break in the rainforest, but it was not. The Nyangbal mob had cultivated and nurtured the grass long ago. Their songs and dances taught them how to remove any seedlings and weeds. These songs and dances also explained that the clearing was a battleground where the Nyangbal people settled disputes with neighbouring mobs. The ground was a sacred meeting place where two mobs could come together and do battle in a Bumaalii to decide the rule of the lore.
The Nyangbal mob sat in the shade at one end of the clearing waiting for the Clever Men to finish their talk. Three boys crouched amongst the huge gathering of Nyangbal men watching the Clever Men. Patterns, symbolizing the men’s totems, were painted on their faces, limbs and torsos in a rich white ochre. Some of the men had feathers tied or glued into their hair. They carried a bagaa, a wooden shield, as long as a man’s leg, in one hand and three spears and a woomera in the other. They were naked except for a loincloth and a tough kangaroo hide belt tied around their middle. A nulla-nulla (a club), a throwing stick and a long hunting boomerang were secured in their belts. The boys too were painted in white, and their hair was adorned with feathers. Irindilli and Yirinyin had brightly coloured parrot feathers in their hair, but Balagaan always wore the black and white feathers of his totem, the magpie.
Balagaan flicked a spider from his arm and gazed through the cover of the bush. ‘Are they the Clever Men?’
Irindilli crouched beside him, peering through the thick foliage, his eyes agog. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. But they look powerful.’
‘They’re Wiiyangs all right,’ whispered Yirinyin.
‘So those blokes direct the battle and decide the winner?’ asked Irindilli.
‘Yaway,’ said Yirinyin, nodding.
Balagaan had never seen a Wiiyang before. But he knew of them. Clever Men were magic men. They used spells and rites to control the weather, to heal people and make them sick. They could even kill people, if they wanted to.
All with magic. Every mob had one. The Clever Men did not live in a camp with any of the mobs, but wandered the lands freely, camping on the tops of mountains or other djurabiils, sacred sites, where the strongest magic was.
‘Which one’s ours, uncle?’ asked Irindilli. ‘They look the same.’
Uner, Balagaan’s father leant forward and pointed. ‘That baygal,’ he said.
Balagaan studied the Wiiyang. His beard and hair were still radiant but had grown white with age.
‘The old baygal?’ asked Irindilli. ‘Ei.’
‘Don’t worry about his age, it’s his magic that matters,’ said Uner. ‘And Nyimbiny is as powerful as they come. Look closely at the two men and you’ll see they’re not the same.’
Balagaan peered at the two men.
‘They look the same to me,’ said Irindilli.
Uner pointed. ‘Look at their faces.’
Balagaan had very good sight, like his totem, the magpie. He studied the men’s’ faces. ‘His eyes are different.’
Uner nodded. ‘He only has one seeing eye.’
Balagaan saw that the other eye was a dull white colour like the colour of a goanna egg. ‘What’s wrong with his eye?’
‘Some say he gave it to Babaraa. In return, the Great Creator gave him the power to see into the future.’
‘Do you think he knows who will win this battle?’ asked Yirinyin.
‘Maybe. Their Wiiyang is wondering that too,’ said Uner. ‘Look.’ Under pointed towards the younger man. ‘He’s wary. He doesn’t know if his magic is strong enough to ward-off Nyimbiny’s magic.’
‘Our Wiiyang’s stronger than theirs! We’re gonna win for sure,’ said Irindilli.
Uner smiled. ‘If only it was that easy. Their Wiiyang is not without his own tricks.’ Uner motioned towards the other end of the clearing where another group of men, from the Rain Forest mob, sat huddled in the shade. ‘And their army is bigger than ours. It’ll be a close battle. They are about to talk. Listen.’
Balagaan heard Nyimbiny’s softly spoken voice drift across the clearing. ‘Janguy has broken the lore. He has taken a Gudjin woman by stealthy means. He has not got consent from Wudjaabiny’s parents and her people to wed her. Not only that, she was promised to another baygal from the High-Country mob. This is not the way the people of our nations behave,’ said Nyimbiny.
The younger Clever Man stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘It is true that Janguy did not follow the proper ways when he took Wudjaabiny, but she went with him willingly. She does not want to marry Buyam. He is three times her age.’
Balagaan watched Nyimbiny look at the ground and guide a dislodged lump of turf back into place with his toes. Nyimbiny looked up at the younger man and cocked his head. ‘It is not for Wudjaabiny to decide. It is for Wudjaabiny’s parents and Buyam to decide. Janguy and Wudjaabiny cannot wed. Without agreement, only war can settle the dispute.’
Balagaan saw the younger baygal nod. ‘Then it is decided. The Nyangbal and Rain Forest mobs will go to Bumaalii and the winners will determine the decision.’
Uner shook his head as the two Clever Men parted. ‘Nyimbiny is not happy. The Rain Forest Clever Man is young and thinks it is okay to break the lore. Nyimbiny has lived a long time and knows this type of thinking can only lead to trouble.’
Nyimbiny made his way to the edge of the scrub on one side of the clearing, while the younger man made his way to the edge of the scrub on the other. Nyimbiny cupped his hand around his mouth and whistled shrilly, imitating a whippoorwill bird’s call.
Balagaan heard his father breathe out heavily. ‘That’s the signal.’
A great army of hundreds of Nyangbal warriors spilled out from the shadows of the scrub onto the field of battle.
As the Nyangbal army stepped into the clearing, Balagaan saw the younger Wiiyang call to his mob. A huge army of Rain Forest warriors swarmed out of the scrub. They took longer to emerge because their army was larger. They too were painted in their totemic patterns but in a red ochre rather than white. They had feathers in their hair and carried a similar array of weapons.
‘Ei…’ whispered Irindilli. ‘So many of them.’
Balagaan felt a stone of fear in his stomach as he watched the two armies face each other. He watched as a group of young Nyangbal boys, also painted in their mob’s colours, ran around the edge of the clearing towards the Wiiyang.
‘Go on boys. Join the others. You have some work to do,’ said Uner.
Balagaan and his cousins ran after the group of boys, who now stood at a respectful distance behind Nyimbiny. Yirinyin, Irindilli and Balagaan fell in behind them. And then something strange happened.
The Wiiyang turned his head and stared at them. His gaze settled on Balagaan, who stood near the back. The other boys glanced fearfully over their shoulders at him wondering what Balagaan had done to attract the Clever Man’s eye.
Balagaan gulped. It felt like the Wiiyang was looking not at him, but into him. ‘Sorry,’ he stammered.
Nyimbiny’s gaze held on Balagaan for several heartbeats and then his head turned back to the warriors in the clearing.
The boys looked at Balagaan nervously.
‘Ei! What was that all about?’ whispered Yirinyin.
Balagaan put a finger to his lips. The Wiiyang was about to address the men.
‘You are here because the lore has been challenged. Let this battle here today settle the dispute and restore the lore,’ said Nyimbiny.
Balagaan held his breath. They were going to fight!
The Nyangbal men stood at one end of the clearing about twenty spear-lengths away from the Rain Forest mob. They carried spears twice the height of a man, with black, fire-hardened points. They looked deadly this close, as did the large hunting boomerangs and heavy-ended nulla-nullas tucked into their belts. Balagaan looked to the sky. ‘Babaraa, keep my father safe.’
Balagaan watched the men from his mob wish each other luck with the silent language of the eyes. He saw his grandfather, Bolim, nod to his father and then the men took position. The young baygal-mirr stood at the front. It was the safest place in the crowd because you could see the spears coming first. Balagaan saw that the young men were nervous. They breathed quickly and shifted from one foot to the other, as they waited for the battle to begin.
He did not blame them for being nervous. The older baygal-mirr were more relaxed. These men stood quietly, conserving all their energy, and just stared at their enemy with eyes as hard as stone. Balagaan shook his head. What a terrible thing it must be to go to war.
Balagaan heard muttering and realised the Clever Man was talking quietly. He thought he must have been casting a spell. Balagaan suddenly felt a small gust of wind on his cheek. The wind blew harder and Balagaan could see the Nyangbal men’s feathers flapping in the breeze.
‘Look!’ whispered Yirinyin. ‘The Wiiyang called in the wind. Now our spears can fly further.’
‘The Bumaalii’s about to start!’ whispered Irindilli. The boys watched on; their eyes as big as bagaas.
The two armies faced one another. Their dark skin gleamed with sweat. They clutched their shields in one hand and their long hunting spears and woomeras in the other.
Nyimbiny signalled to the Nyangbal warriors. The men jumped in the air as one and landed with a loud boom.
At a sign from the young Wiiyang, the Rain Forest men stomped the earth with their hardened feet with such force that the ground trembled.
The ground shook so much that Balagaan and his cousins had trouble staying on their feet!
The Rain Forest men yelled, gnashed their teeth, spat and cried out. Some warriors worked themselves into a frenzy. Yelling, they darted towards the Nyangbal men, aimed their spear aggressively at the men and then dashed back. This went on for some time and then suddenly, the clearing grew silent.
Nyimbiny signalled to the Nyangbal men and Bolim stepped forward. In the blink of an eye, Balagaan watched him notch a spear to his woomera, flick his wrist and launch it at the Rain Forest mob. The spear soared through the air, wobbling as if alive, towards its target. When it finally speared downward at the foremost warrior, it was a blur. But the Rain Forest warrior was faster. In one easy step he dodged it and swept the spear aside.
‘That’s Janguy. He’s the fellah that’s caused all this mess,’ said Yirinyin.
Uner stepped up beside Bolim. The warriors from both mobs were yelling at one another, taunting, ridiculing, and name-calling. Their shouting grew louder and louder until the Rain Forest Wiiyang raised his hand.
The Nyangbal men grew silent and waited. Janguy stood at the front of the Rain Forest mob.
The young Clever Man signalled to the men. In a heartbeat, the warriors shifted their spears to their shield hand, whipped out their hunting boomerangs and hurled them, at ground level, towards the Nyangbal men’s shins and knees. They were made from wood that was so hard it broke bones. The lethal boomerangs spun through the air like flying clubs.
The Nyangbal warriors effortlessly dodged the boomerangs or deflected them with their bagaas. They stared defiantly back at the Rain Forest men. Janguy glared at Bolim. He was furious.
The Rain Forest Wiiyang signalled again. The Rain Forest warriors plucked another hunting boomerang from their belts and hurled them upright, straight at the Nyangbal warriors. The boomerangs flew through the air like a swarm of mosquitoes. If even one struck a man, it would kill him; here, the air was thick with them.
Nyimbiny yelled a warning and the Nyangbal men fell back out of range. The deadly boomerangs skittered harmlessly to the ground.
Nyimbiny gave the signal. It was the Nyangbal men’s turn. Their boomerangs were shaped like snakes balancing on their tails ready to strike. The Nyangbal men selected their targets, gripped the long handles of their boomerangs and hurled them at the Rain Forest men. The huge boomerangs tumbled, sighing, end over end towards them. But the Rain Forest warriors were ready. The massive boomerangs clattered off their wooden shields, thudding to the ground.
Nyimbiny signalled again. The Nyangbal warriors lifted their spears to their woomeras, took a short run forward and flung them at their foe. The heavens hummed as hundreds of death-dealing spears soared through the blue sky.
The Rain Forest warriors were too skilled. Their mob’s Wiiyang urged them to break left, right and to the middle to dodge the wave of spears, so that only a handful bore down on their mark. The Rain Forest warriors swept the spears aside, with their shields, to fall harmlessly on the soft grass. As a warrior knocked the last spear aside, the younger Clever Man called out another instruction. The Rain Forest warriors notched their spears in their woomeras and flung their own deadly missiles at the Nyangbal men.
This time, the sky turned black and a shadow fell across the clearing as the huge number of Rain Forest spears raced across the sky to rain down on the Nyangbal men.
The Nyangbal warriors scurried to the sides, out of harm’s way to avoid the deadly spears. Before they could regroup or retaliate, the Rain Forest warriors unleashed another wave of savage missiles.
There were so many spears soaring through the sky that Balagaan thought they looked like an echidna’s quills! The huge cloud of spears sent the Nyangbal warriors scrambling away from the centre out of harm’s way. Now, there were two smaller groups of Nyangbal warriors.
Nyimbiny was not daunted. He commanded each wing, organising and directing the men to avoid the next wave of spears. He shouted to Bolim, who turned just in time to catch the deadly missile on the edge of his bagaa.
The boys looked on, wide-eyed.
The Rain Forest Wiiyang smiled. One last barrage would win them the battle. He directed half his men to hurl their spears at where the Nyangbal men stood, and the other half to throw their spears at the middle, where the enemy would run to.
Balagaan saw Nyimbiny smile. He signalled to the Nyangbal men to sprint backwards to avoid the great body of spears, thwarting the move. The warriors only had to face a few long-range throws. They dodged and deflected the spears easily, infuriating Janguy further.
With their spears all thrown, both armies snatched their enemies’ weapons from the ground and stood ready to send another barrage at each other.
The battle raged back and forth like this until, finally, both armies had sent so many of their spears into the surrounding forest and the middle of the clearing, where they could not retrieve them safely, that the Wiiyangs called for a short break in the fighting.
With the missiles from both armies exhausted, it was time for the boys from each mob to collect their relatives’ weapons. Balagaan and the other boys raced around the clearing, snatching up their family’s spears and returning them to the warriors.
The warriors from both mobs sat patiently in the shade at the opposite ends of the clearing, catching their breaths, tending their wounds and drinking cool water from coolamons.
Some boys gathered up the spears and boomerangs that littered the centre of the ground. They left the damaged weapons where they were. Others scoured the edges of the forest looking for lost spears and boomerangs.
Once they returned the spears and boomerangs, the boys returned to their positions behind their mobs’ Clever Man.
The Bumaalii raged on like this for half the morning, the armies hurling their missiles and the boys collecting them, until the spears and boomerangs were all but lost or broken. The men from both mobs were bruised, scratched and tired; but there were no fatalities nor any serious injuries. With that being the case, the battle would have to continue. It was time for close combat.
The prologue is spooky, like the misty forests of the Dreamtime.
A battle is pending between the aboriginal Nyangbal mob and the Rain Forest mob. The issue is that a man has taken a bride who had been betrothed to another. Men of a certain mob are expected to marry women from another certain mob and no other.
Balagaan likes Gawngam, but she is betrothed to Dangan. Balagaan won’t see her again until the festival in two years’ time. But he is caught kissing her good-bye and as punishment is sent to live with the Red Soil mob for five years.
The tribes move from place to place, following the seasonal food supply, and they carefully husband their environment.
At the Games, Balagaan comes head to head with Dangan, competing to claim Gawngam as wife. A Clever Man’s prophecy and a magpie, his totem, give him strength.
Returning from a kangaroo hunt, the Nyangbal mob discovers white-skinned newcomers—Yirraalii—have invaded their land. The Yirraalii don’t understand the lore, and their violence disrupts the balanced society and the ecosystem. And Dangan is out for revenge.
The setting and subject matter are exotic, but I wish they had been portrayed more clearly at the beginning. I could have used footnotes or a glossary. After I got into it, I was fascinated. It is set in Bundjalung, on the eastern coast of Australia. The invasion of the white men and their ‘thunder sticks’ and their ‘canoes with wings’ give us a clue as to the date.
The culture is unfamiliar to a non-Australian, and right from the first there are multiple unfamiliar names and foreign words—bagaas, nulla-nullas, woomera, coolamons, janagan, dubay. The extensive use of foreign words brings the camera angle right down to the characters’ level, but it’s hard to get into, as we don’t know whether the names referred to are people, titles, or groups of people. And we lose track of who is a member of which mob. This all happens before we understand who are the main protagonists. This may not be an issue for readers who are more familiar with aboriginal culture, but I found it confusing.
The novel seems to have been retitled Savages.