All of the tribe, except the musicians, turned and fled toward the opposite side of the corroboree ground.   One or two of the younger braves even turned and fled out through the small gap in the blue gum grove.   Abandoning the corroboree before completion, in violation of Aboriginal lore.

“Now, dammit, now!” ordered Weari-Wyingga.   And on the command the six didgeridooists lifted their instruments and began to play.   But in their excitement, two musicians played the calling tune, while Thomas Jabir and the others played the sending music.

“Woo-oo-oo!” boomed Woo, almost as loud as thunder.   He leapt across to the two musicians, who were calling him.

“No, you’re playing the wrong…!” Weari-Wyingga shouted in warning.

But too late.   Before the two men had time to realise their mistake, Woo reached them.   Swinging his crystal-sheer talons, the demon slashed across the throat of one young musician, neatly decapitating him.   His severed head flew across the clearing for a few seconds, bouncing like a basketball.

Garbarla had to gulp to fight down the rising bile as he watched the head bouncing.

“Woo-oo-oo!” shrieked the demon in glee.   Leaping across to the second musician it slashed its claws deep into the young man’s face, one claw sinking right through the pulp of his left eyeball.   All five claws sank through to the grey matter of the man’s brain.

“Oh Jesus!” cried Garbarla from shock and dismay.   But no one corrected him for calling on the god of his white father, instead of Gurugadji, the god of his tribe — as they usually did.

“Woo-oo-oo!” shrieked the demon again.   Obviously delighted at the terror it had caused, it puckered its tube-like lips up into a very human shit-eater grin.

Before it could advance on the rest of the tribe, though, the power of the sending tune began to control it again.

The music was weakened by the loss of two of the six didgeridooists.   But Thomas Jabir’s masterly playing as leader of the small group was sufficient to send the demon slow motion hopping back toward the blue gum grove.

‘But how much longer can we keep doing this?’ wondered Garbarla.   ‘Eventually that monster will break free of the grip of the music, unless we find some way to seal it into the didgeridoo!   But how?’