“Thank God for that,” said Garbarla.   Unwilling to follow the fire owl alone into the plains at night, Garbarla stopped at the edge of the village to wait for Weari-Wyingga.   He shivered as the cold night air caught up with him as he stopped.

Seven minutes later the old man arrived.

“It went out there,” said Garbarla.   He nodded toward the desert.

“After Jimba, David,” said Weari-Wyingga.

“What?” asked Garbarla, shocked.

“Mutapina sent the fire owl here to stop us.   But when it failed here, he sent it after his hunters, to stop them finding him.”

“My God,” said Garbarla.   As the old man took back the Dark Stone, Garbarla asked, “How did you know that would stop it?”

The old man grinned toothily.   “I didn’t.   I grabbed the nearest relic which was heavy enough to use as a weapon against it.”

*      *      *

Two days later, as evening approached, they were sitting round the cookfire near the edge of the settlement, waiting to eat the evening meal: roots, berries, and two young nail-tail kangaroos the hunters had brought back that day.   Garbarla watched old Wendy Tudjudamara tending the fire.   He wondered how she felt knowing that by Aboriginal law her son, Larry, would be executed if brought back to stand trial.   After a few seconds the old woman looked round as though feeling his eyes on her.   In Aboriginal society the next-to-kin of criminals are not hounded as they are in white society.   But Garbarla suspected old Wendy must feel that everyone was watching her all the time, blaming her for having borne a murderer.

Beside Wendy squatted Suzie Wanjimari, another elderly lubra, helping to tend the fire.   Suzie picked up a long grey-gum stick and bent across to prod at the cooking nail-tails.   But at the last second she stopped and stared across in Garbarla’s direction.   At first he thought the old lubra was staring at him.   Then he realised she was staring behind him, out toward the desert.   As he started to turn round, Suzie pointed over Garbarla’s shoulder and said, “Runners comin’!”