He kept leading me; light dabs from his torch ran along the darkened Cave. How well I remember Stanley, the ‘Black Fella’ man with the harsh brown land scarred on his face. I like the black fella men, they stand in the earth like trees; their arms hold the earth like branches and their leaves whirl all over this ancient land. We are alone in Pigeon cave; drops of water plop down in eerie vibrations, in dark corners Ghost Bats hang heads down, their high squeaks resonating against the humid air. Stanley wants us to sit, so we sit. You travel back a thousand years when you sit with a Bunuba man. The Ghost Bats sonar our presence and some take off in the warm light, whipping past our heads. Stanley tells me that these large mammals are often called ‘Vampire Bats’, as they are carnivorous and endemic to Australia, with a wingspan of up to 60 centimetres. They fly in, bite their prey to death, and then carry it off to their cave to eat —hanging, upside down. “ Nice”, I say. Stanley nods, ” Nice”, he ads, softly. We just sit some more, like we are waiting to capture yesterday’s time. Stanley’s lips start to move with soft whispers. “ Why you whisper?” I whisper. But the black fella seems to be in walk- away, in-between deep pools and the stalactites and mites and plonking drops and hanging bats. “Me whisper, because this special ground for Aboriginal man. This cave the hide away, the place of ‘Pigeon’. This place, the other name we call for Jandamarra. The white man he come to kill him here in cave in 1897. He is the hero for all Bunuba man”. Jandamarra —– black fella man: Legend, warrior, freedom fighter, and wild spirit that still spreads his leaves all over this harsh brown land.
