All this happened long ago. As time passed, I learnt the Aboriginal language and how to hunt turtles, birds and frogs. I learnt which plants are good to eat. I learnt, too, of the Aborigines’ beliefs: how the ancestor spirits came to earth and formed the people, the land, the plants and animals; how Beemarra, the rainbow serpent, formed the rivers and hills with its body, and how its scales scraped off to form the forests and flowers.
When I understood this, I began to interpret the stories of the spirit ancestors retold through dances and ceremonies performed at the corroborees when different tribes came together and traded shells at the river’s edge. I began to understand, too, the significance of secret rituals and rites – men’s business and women’s business.
But for years I did not realise that Heni’s family thought I was a spirit ancestor returned to them. This was why they accepted our union and even gave me my own territory, so that I could pass it on to my sons.
Our first child – a boy – has Heni’s features but his skin is paler than hers and he has my fair hair and blue eyes. We named him after the Aboriginal god Nogomain, who gives spirit children to mortal parents.
Many years later, long after our children were grown up, we received a special message stick which, for the first time in years, reminded me of my past life. I am now expert at interpreting the lines and dots upon these sticks. But this message stick was unwelcome. It told of more ancestor spirits who had come to these shores – in large numbers – and I guessed that there had been another shipwreck and that more Dutch sailors had arrived. But when I read the signs more carefully, I saw that these ‘spirit ancestors’ had been seen many miles south of us.
For some years I feared that these sailors might venture up the coast to our river, and I dreaded meeting them, for they would have heard of Batavia’s shipwreck and of the mutiny and the massacre. They would know that Wouter and I had been marooned on this coast. But, although I waited for other message sticks that might bring news of them, none ever came.
I am old now and near death, but death holds no fear for me. It is only the first step into the spirit world.
Heni is beside me. Like me, she is old and toothless, but our affection for each other has never wavered.
We hear the sound of laughter and we see the men come in from hunting, noisy with success. Our three sons are in front, leading the way into the camp.