‘But where’s Wulgaru?’ he wondered.   He almost voiced the question aloud.   Then moments later the wooden devil lurched into sight — the torch-bearing warriors not far behind it.

“Chase him into Gurugadji’s Valley!” called Suzie as the circle of Aborigines began to slowly close around the wooden devil.   “Not too quickly!   Don’t get within his reach!”

At her call, the torch-bearers started forward slowly.

‘It’s going to work.   I can’t believe it, it’s going to work!’ thought Garbarla.

Wulgaru was still shrieking his silent, lungless shriek, still flailing his arms like an out of control robot.   But the wooden devil continued forward, obviously terrified of the torches.

“Drive him into the valley,” instructed Suzie as the circle slowly closed in.

“Look out!” called Wendy Tudjudamara as Wulgaru suddenly span around.

For a moment it looked as though the wooden devil was going to try to run through the ring of torch bearers.   Then, to the relief of Garbarla and the others, the demon turned again and started down the slight incline into the black, lifeless valley.

“Follow him, it’s not finished yet!” called Suzie.

“Why…?” began Garbarla, puzzled.   But Suzie and the others left him behind as they began running toward the entrance waving their flaming torches before them to drive Wulgaru deeper into the valley.

“Close in around him…Carefully!” called Suzie, as they entered the lifeless brown-walled canyon.

‘This is a fitting place to destroy this monster!’ thought Garbarla.   He stared round the brown walls where nothing grew, in contrast to the abundant foliage on the rest of the mount.   ‘This is a place of death, if ever I saw one.’

“Drive him toward the pit!” shouted Suzie.   And for the first time Garbarla saw the real reason Roger Gardigardi and Terry Yudbunji had not taken part in the corroboree: they had been digging a pit three metres deep by perhaps fifteen metres square, twenty metres or so into the valley.

“Drive him toward the pit!” repeated Suzie.   And the circle of torch-bearers began to close around the wooden devil.

Although it had its back toward the pit, Wulgaru lurched forward as though sensing danger.   But Wally Wuyaindjimadjinji and two other young hunters leapt forward and thrust flaming torches toward the wooden devil.

Flailing its tree trunk arms wildly, the demon staggered backwards and fell to the bottom of the pit.

A dozen or so warriors threw their flaming torches into the pit.   And Suzie called to Roger Gardigardi, “Where is the rest of the firewood?”

“Just inside the valley,” said Roger.   He pointed to a great stack of logs back near the valley entrance.

“Quickly!” called Suzie.   “Everyone throw firewood down onto wooden devil-devil!”

At her order all the braves, plus Karen Yunupingu and Wendy Tudjudamara raced across to grab as much firewood as they could carry, to begin throwing it down onto Wulgaru.

Until soon Suzie was calling out, “Stop!   Stop!   Stop!   Don’t pile it too high, or wooden devil can climb out on burning wood.”

Even as she spoke they heard a rustling from the bottom of the pit.   Which was now stacked to within half a metre of ground level.

“It’s still…alive!” cried Garbarla, wondering if “alive” was the right word.

The rustling increased and the wood began to push up, then drop down again as though settling.

“It’s rising, the wood’s rising!” called Wally Wuyaindjimadjinji, pointing toward the centre of the pyre.

“It’s only the wood settling in the fire,” said, hoped Wendy Tudjudamara.   But as she spoke the top of the pyre burst upward in a miniature explosion.   And up thrust the burning, wooden head of Wulgaru.

“Beat him down!   Get something to beat him back down!” shouted Suzie, trying to rouse the young men who seemed mesmerised by the unexpected reappearance of the wooden devil.

Wulgaru twisted and shook himself about slowly, like a man desperately trying to paddle instead of drowning in a pool of water or quicksand.

“He’s trying to find a footing,” called Garbarla.   As he spoke Wulgaru’s head thrust up higher to reveal his neck and one of his tree-branch arms.

“Get something to beat him back down!” repeated Suzie.

Wally and two other young hunters ran to do as instructed.

Wulgaru continued twisting and turning, throwing back his head to silently scream from time to time.   He struggled against the woodpile, like a corpse struggling to break free from the grip of a grave.

“Don’t get too close!” warned Suzie, as the three hunters returned from the woodpile with long boughs.

At her call Wally Wuyaindjimadjinji stopped well short of the pit.   But a young hunter, Johnny Wururbiddie, ran too far and almost dived headfirst into the pyre.

“Look out!” called Garbarla.   He leapt forward to make a grab for the youth.

Too late, as Wulgaru reached up as though to dive out of the mound of logs like a porpoise at a sea-park, and grabbed hold of the end of the blue-gum log the youth held.

“Let go!” shrieked Suzie.   The sixty-nine year old woman ran like a teenager as she tried to reach Johnny in time.

Both Suzie and Garbarla reached the edge of the pit a bare second too late.   As the teenager fell screaming into the pyre pit.

“Oh Jesus!” said Garbarla, shocked.

Wulgaru almost seemed to smile with his sharp, granite teeth as the youth fell right into his arms.

“Oh no!” cried Wendy Tudjudamara as the wooden devil began to squeeze the life out of the teenage hunter.

“Guuuuuuuuur…ruuuu…gadji help me!” the youth shrieked to the Emu-Man, the god of the tribe.   There was a loud snapping of bone as his spine broke, then in seconds the youth was dead.

“Oh Jesus!” said Garbarla again.   He stared in shock at the lifeless remains of the teenager, which the wooden devil dropped contemptuously into the pyre as it began to flail around again.

“Look out, it’s climbing out of the pit!” warned Wally Wuyaindjimadjinji.   They all backed away from the edge of the pit, their brown eyes glazed with terror.

However, the time Wulgaru had taken to crush Johnny Wururbiddie to death had allowed the wood below it to burn down.   Wulgaru started to step up out onto the hard brown earth.   But there was a loud rumbling of collapsing wood below him, and the wooden devil suddenly plummeted out of sight to the bottom of the pyre.

“Thank Christ!” said Garbarla.

“Thank Gurugadji,” Suzie teased her young lover.

They waited by the edge of the pit for hours, until the pyre had burnt itself out, to make sure that Wulgaru was reduced to ashes.   Then the month of October 2005 ended as it had begun for the tribe.   This time with the funeral of young Johnny Wururbiddie.

THE END

(c) Copyright 2011

Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia