The Arrival

• Abigail Bopf, Grade 4, Caloundra State School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Beyond Words 2015' competition

"Screech!" yelped a helpless dingo as it took its last breath before it passed out. Father took him back to the humpy. "Is it dead?" asked Gumana. "No, silly, he's only passed out," I protested to him. It finally awoke to the smell of food. I gave him a kangaroo sausage. "I'll name you Gurradumi," I said. The dingo yelped with joy as if to say, "Thank you, Waracana! It was very generous of you!" He was lucky that he didn't die from that nasty crocodile.
Many days passed until an elder said, "I sense a bad presence for our tribe." "What does he mean?" I thought to myself. "We have lived peacefully for many centuries without any problems," I said. I looked up at Mother for more information. She looked at me and then at the stars. Gurradumi whimpered. "Don't worry," I said. Only I knew there was much to worry about.
That terrible day came. Big floating islands were heading towards our country. I was scared and so was the rest of her tribe. Gurradumi barked at the floating islands then ran towards them. "Gurradumi! Wait!" I yelled as I followed. He came to a stop at Dungallen Point. There stood five men staring at Gurradumi and myself. "Who are you?" they said. I was confused for they spoke in an unknown language. "Talk!" they shouted. I turned around and ran with Garradumi lapping at my feet. When we were back at camp I told them everything. "I call them ghost men," I said. Everyone agreed to call them ghost men.
Years passed, and most of us lost our culture, our traditions and our homes. I learnt their lifestyle and started to wear their clothes. My family and I were separated. I only had Garradumi. I wish I was back at home. But I can only wish.