6

The Wilhelm groaned towards deeper water and away from the shoals and reefs that had claimed four boats before her. In its wake, the forests of K’gari were matchsticks on the horizon. Soon the ship would turn further, running due north along the Great Sandy Strait, then, once it had rounded Fraser Island, it would head southeast across the Pacific. In the distance, in the open ocean at the end of the strait, a steamer ploughed. Hilda had seen advertisements in the Maryborough Chronicle advertising berths on such ships, which boasted a shorter route through the Suez Canal, a marvel of engineering that her father said was lined with satinay timber from K’gari. Louis had raised his eyebrows with the wonder and coincidence of it: that something taken from the small island they knew so well had been put to use in one of the world’s newest and most important waterways. A gateway to civilisation, he called it.

Louis emerged from below decks with Bonny, Dorondera and Jurano. Bonny stood a head taller than most of the crew and was more muscular in build even than Fritz. He looked especially handsome in his new clothes, Hilda thought, more handsome than Jurano, who appeared sadly comical in his oversized jacket and trousers. Could her father not have chosen better, Hilda wondered.

The Germans stopped work to stare and nudged one another. Hilda went swiftly to embrace Dorondera, who smiled nervously as she opened her brown shawl and dug her fingers into Hilda’s back. They spoke together in Badtjala and the bald crewman laughed.

‘Are you excited?’ Hilda asked her friend, ignoring the man.

‘I can’t breathe down there,’ Dorondera said, pointing below decks. She pressed her hand to her chest, her fingers extending through the crocheted holes of the shawl like sandworms from their tunnels.

Bonny agreed. ‘The air is bad.’ He noticed the blood on Hilda’s dress. ‘You’re hurt. Who did this?’ He looked about him accusingly.

She shook her head. ‘I fell.’

He did not look convinced. What would he think of what she had done? Would he approve or think less of her for having made such an act her own? Hilda felt suddenly ashamed.

Fritz was talking off to the left of her, and Hilda understood him to say the word ‘wild’. The man’s slit eyes were on Bonny.

‘Watch this,’ the bald man said. ‘Let’s see if he bites.’ He held his index fingers above his bare head as mock horns and snarled. A few of the crew laughed.

Hilda looked at her father, who silently shook his head. She read the fleeting confusion on Bonny’s face before he also looked away, apparently dismissing the German’s antics as trivial. Hilda knew what her mother would say if she were here: It takes time to re-educate people. Let them meet and get to know one another. Have patience, Hilda.

Bonny pointed at the beach and said, ‘Wang’ari.’

Her father removed his cracked glasses and raised instead a small telescope to see the distant moving shape. He handed the instrument to Hilda and she watched as the dingo stopped and stared, a mute witness to what they had taken. Finally, it lifted back its head and howled. In the space of a breath, it slunk back into the grasses and goat’s foot vines that laced the shoreline and was gone.