The Bull Roarer

We’d travelled more than a hundred miles

From the nearest outback town,

The sun was roasting the plains out there

And the heat was getting us down,

We’d left all the eucalypts behind

And there wasn’t a patch of green,

Only a scrubby saltbush there

Where the natives used to dream.

 

We halted just as the sun went down

And Miranda let out a sigh,

‘Have ever you seen such stars as these?’

And pointed up at the sky,

The heavens shone with a mighty glow

From the stars that glittered, proud,

Each was lighting the earth below

From the inky black of its shroud.

 

But underneath us the ground was hot

And the track it lay, bone dry,

There’d not been even a single drop

Of rain, since the last July,

We huddled up in the four wheel drive

As the air began to chill,

I pulled a blanket across our knees

And we slept for a little while.

 

Miranda had some Arunta blood

From her great-grandmother’s side,

She’d learned of some of their culture, and

She had the Arunta pride,

We woke to a distant whirring sound

And Miranda sat up straight,

And murmured, ‘That’s a Tjurunga

Trying to open heaven’s gate.’

 

‘The white men call it a Bull Roarer,’

She said, with a hint of fear,

‘And I’m forbidden to hear it, for

It’s not for a woman’s ear.

They’ll kill me if they should find me here

For breaking their sacred law,’

She slid down over her seat, and sat

Her head down, close to the floor.

 

I climbed on out of the cab, and stood

Surveying the dark surround,

The whirring seemed to be closer now,

And the pitch went up and down,

An icy chill ran along my spine

As I saw a movement there,

Something slithering over the ground

Not far from where we were.

 

I froze in shock, and I held my breath

When I saw a pair of eyes,

Both the colour of rubies, and

Of quite enormous size,

And then I saw the head of the snake

As it ploughed a furrow, deep,

Its body the colours of rainbows, then

Miranda took a peep.

 

She said, ‘It’s the Rainbow Serpent,’

As the whirring sound went on,

Covered her ears and shut her eyes

And said, ‘It’ll soon be gone.’

I climbed back into the cab and locked

The door, and lay down flat,

Trembled in fear, I’d never seen

A snake as big as that.

 

The dawn was gradually breaking as

I took a look outside,

And there, where the ground had been quite flat

Was a creek, ten metres wide,

And water, straight from the Queensland rains

Was pouring over the land,

Sluicing along the new creek bed

Where before, there was only sand.

 

I’d never believed in the Dreamtime

Or the tales that the natives tell,

But somewhere the Rainbow Serpent roams

With eyes from heaven or hell,

We turned the nose of the jeep around,

Drove back to the town once more,

I’ll never return to the desert, where

You can hear the Bull Roarer’s roar!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Christopher Vivian]

Hi big brother, another great piece of poetry and written about my county, outback NT. Did you know the Aboriginal clan you mention is organised into the eastern and western groups and todays Orthology has changed the spelling of the once known "Arunta" clan to "Arrernte". Just a technicality, as usual the tale is beautifully woven, highly visual, and laden with surprise.

[Colorado Brian]

Your imagination, and ability to put a vision so effectively to words is second to None

[Marie]

I thought I knew what a bull roarer was, and I though I'd even seen one, but maybe not...

[TL Boehm]

this is a fascinating story - such a great slice of culture and myth - not what we normally get in the course of a day. The rainbow serpent. Well done.