The Rainbow Serpent

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always giant horned wombats on the plains, or possums in the forest. Void of life, this world was once bare. Empty, the land flat and baron. That was until, the forbearers arrived. On the back of The Rainbow Serpent, they slithered from the sea to call this land their new home. This land came to be known as Straya. After their arrival, The Rainbow Serpent set about creating the landscape, its enormous body carved out the rivers, lakes, valleys, mountaintops, flood plains, everything from the coves and cliffs by the sea, to the dunes of the deserts. Meanwhile, the magic makers of the first peoples created the animals, trees, flowers and everything else that now call this land home. Together, generations of the Yolngu people and The Rainbow Serpent worked across eons in a harmonious process of creation. However, just days ago, The Serpent fled and the balance of this land came crashing down. All because of one boy… Jarrah of the Yolngu people.

                                                                      ***

This last week has transpired like a bad dream. A bad dream that remained no matter how much Jarrah wished it away. Sitting next to his mum, with his dad beside her, the three sat with the rest of their mob. His mum is inconsolable, beating her fists on his father’s chest. Her sorrowful howls were unlike anything Jarrah had heard before. Her cries were not alone. Sitting in a circle, Jarrah’s mob is an echoing chorus of wails and whimpers.

Around his mob, in a greater circle, were the animals of their land. The typically talkative parrots, upon their perches in the trees above, remain solemn. The Roos and their joeys stood beside the dingoes peacefully. Usually they were sworn enemies. If they weren’t outright fighting, they were definitely arguing, but today, besides an occasional sniffle, they all remain quiet. It was a time of mourning for all that called Arnhem land, the territory of the Yolngu, home. Losing two young boys was enough for everyone to put aside their petty grievances and come together. The two young boys were Jarrah’s younger brothers, Lluka and Waru. Their bodies were below the soil in the centre of their circle. Jarrah’s uncles were patting the soil down, wiping away the sweat they had accumulated during the burial. Jarrah was heavy with the burden of their deaths upon his shoulders. He tried his best to stay present, but his mind kept returning to the day they died.

It was late afternoon on that fateful day. Dusk cast long shadows across their camp. The men had just gotten back from a day of hunting and the women were busy cooking up some tucker for everyone. Jarrah and his brothers scooped up a couple of spears that the men had left piled up, and were running around the surrounding bush amidst mock battle. Eventually, the boys found themselves outside the serpent’s cave. It was forbidden to be there, as once the serpent was asleep he could be very dangerous if startled. But oblivious to the world around them, the boys continued their game until Waru looked to the cave and realised where they were.

“Oi, we shouldn’t be here.”

“If you’re gonna be a baby, maybe you should go play with the little ones with the aunties.” With hindsight, Jarrah regretted those words more than anything, but he was just winding him up. Jarrah didn’t expect him to do what he did next.

Waru puffed his chest up and furrowed his brow. “I’m not a baby! You guys are babies!” He said before turning and running into the serpent’s cave. Jarrah was shocked, but before he could do anything little Lluka turned to Jarrah.

“I’m not a baby either!” He said before taking off after Waru.

“Guys? Oi guys, I was just jokin’ around, get outta there” Jarrah knew he should have run in after them but he didn’t. Frozen with fear, no matter how much he willed himself forward, he stood unmoving. The dark cave looked like a monster’s gaping mouth, its jagged rocks, it’s fangs, and the blacker than black interior, was like, looking down the monster’s throat, into the belly of the beast. Jarrah’s panic grew as his brothers continued to ignore his pleas to come out. He heard nothing, a stretching nothing that consumed him until suddenly the quiet broke, with a loud hiss then screams from the boys. His brother’s screams finally freed Jarrah’s muscles from they’re still bound fright, but instead of heroically venturing into the belly of the beast, he turned and ran back to the camp. He told the adults and they all raced back to the cave but it was too late, the serpent was gone and all that occupied the cave was his brothers’ dead bodies, their skin, covered with blisters and boils from the serpent’s venom.

                                                                        ***

After the funeral, the next few days dripped by like the syrupy blood of a cut gum. The entire tribe moved in a malaise, sedated by grief. Jarrah remained in his family hut, hoping that sleep would be a respite from his guilt, but into his sleeping mind, his remorse and culpable conscience seeped, reminding him again and again of his cowardice.

Jarrah jolted awake with his father’s bear like palm on his shoulder, softly shaking him.

“The elders are holding council on what we should do, now with the serpent gone.” His father stood and exited the hut. Jarrod wiped the sleep from his eyes before following.

The uncles and aunties had finished deliberating and were waiting by the fire for everyone to gather. Once everyone was there, aunty Noora stood.

“This a sad time for everyone but especially for Maali, Jiemba and Jarrah.” She walks over to jarrah and his parents, to place her hand on his mother’s shoulder. “This is a time for mourning. I know some might want revenge, but that would not be right.” Jarrah tightened his hands into fists.

“We cannot blame the serpent for what happened. The boys should not have been there. The serpent was only acting in his nature. Would you fight the waves for tipping your canoe? No. And we need the serpent. Straya needs the serpent. With him gone, for the first time ever, the balance of creation has been disrupted. We do not know what the consequences of that will be. If we do nothing, maybe he will return, and the balance of creation will be restored.”

“What!? We cannot forgive that creature!” Jarrah could not control his anger any longer. He stood. “No, we have to kill the serpent! We need to avenge my brothers-” before he could continue, Jarrah was yanked by his father back to the ground beside him.

“I understand your anger Jarrah…” Aunty Noora responded softly. “But that anger is just a cloak over the hurt and loss you truly feel.”

Jarrah ripped his arm away from the grasp of his father. He stood to continue his rant, but as tears gathered behind his eyes and a stone developed in his throat, he instead, turned and ran into the bush.

Jarrah ran hard through the bush, leaping over logs and darting between the trees. Jarrah pushed himself until his legs burned with exhaustion. Stopping beside a creek, he collapsed to the base of a tree. Gripping his knees and tucking his head to his chest, he cried uncontrollably. His breath, wild, as he tried to heave in air between bellowed sobs.

“Are you okay, kid?” A soft voice emanated from the ground beside him. Jarrah brings his head up, looking for the source of the quiet voice. A little brush tailed rabbit-rat sat upright on his hind legs, with his head cocked, holding an inquisitive expression.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was around.” Jarrah said snivelling, wiping at his tear stricken face.

“Ah yeah, that’s my home there.” The rabbit-rat said, gesturing with one of his paws towards a crack at the base of the tree that Jarrah was leaning on. “What’s wrong boy? Why are you crying?”

“My brothers were killed, and my tribe isn’t gonna do anything about it.” Jarrah answered.

“Oh. I get it. My siblings were killed too. A bloody dingo got ‘em, all 14 of them.” The rabbit-rat stated, looking to the ground as he spoke. “Well, that’s life, I guess…” the rabbit-rat said before looking up to continue. “Anyway, my name’s Minimar, but my friends call me Mini.” Mini put his front paw forward, which jarrah met with his thumb and index finger. They gently shake this awkward handshake.

“My names Jarrah. So what did you do about your siblings? How did you avenge them?”

“Avenge them? Hah! Look at me, boy, I couldn’t have faced that dingo.”

“Well, I want to avenge my brothers, but the elders of my mob don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Hmm, well elders aren’t usually wrong. Who killed your brothers?”

“The Rainbow Serpent.”

Mini’s jaw dropped. After a moment, he responded. “I’ve seen that fella. He’s that big bugger, hey? No wonder your people aren’t going after him.”

“I don’t care how big he is! I’ll kill him! I’ll slice open his belly!” Jarrah said with his tone growing fierce.

“Alright… Well, maybe The Elder Spirit could help you?”

“The Elder Spirit? But he’s on eternal walkabout. He’s impossible to track.”

“Yes, impossible to track, but I know a place in the plains, where a summoning dance will bring him forth.”

“You’ve seen this?” Jarrah asked.

“Sorta… I heard about it through my granddad, who heard about it from his friend, who was told about it by his second cousin, who saw it firsthand.”

Jarrah contemplated the idea. He had heard stories of The Elder Spirit. If anyone knew where the serpent was and had magic capable of killing the beast, it was him.

“And you can guide me there?”

“Yep, I can’t help ya fight the serpent, but I can take you to The Elder Spirit.” Mini answered.

“Alright, but why do you want to help me, Mini? I’m just a stranger to you.”

“Well… After my siblings were killed, I was angry, but I did nothing and that has stuck with me all my life. If I can help you do something, maybe it’ll make us both feel better.” Mini looked across the creek, as if he was drifting off into his past as he spoke. He turned back to Jarrah, and his expression became stern and determined. “So let’s find this spirit fella, aye?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it!” Jarrah answered, matching Mini’s expression. “I just have to say goodbye to my parents. I’ll be back in a hurry, and we can get going.”

“Sounds good. I guess I should let my partner know, too.”

Jarrah cocked his head. “Partner?” Jarrah asked.

“She’ll be alright, honestly she’s so busy with the babies, she’ll barely notice. Go, quick like the wind, boy, we should leave while the sun’s still tall in the sky.”

Running back towards camp, Jarrah was excited to get outta there. However, at the same time, it felt as though his belly was full of wiggling witchetty grubs. He was certain, this was what he was supposed to do, although, nevertheless, his doubts grew with each step he took. Like, is he really going to trust a rabbit-rat he met just 10 minutes ago? Could a boy actually kill The Rainbow Serpent? Was The Elder Spirit truly out in the plains?

As Jarrah slowed and crept around the outside of his mob’s camp, he felt more and more uncertain of what he should do. At the edge of camp, he approached the back of his family's hut. Drawing closer, he heard voices from within, his parents. Jarrah got as close as he could, to where he could just make out what was being said.

“Jeez! That bloody boy! He knows he can’t talk to his elders that way!” His father’s voice boomed from the hut, loud and boisterous compared to his mother’s soft voice that responded.

“Jiemba, come on hun, we can’t imagine what he’s feeling.”

“Yeah, yeah…” his father said dismissively.

“Truly hun, he was there when they died. He heard them screaming-” his mother stopped as she choked up.

“Yeah and did nothing!” His father spat, like the words were poison that he had sucked from a red belly bite.

Jarrah backed away from the hut, into the bush, with his father’s words ‘and he did nothing!’ stuck in his head. His father was right, Jarrah thought to himself. He had been gutless, and he now had to redeem himself. Prove his courage. Prove his worth in the eyes of his father. Jarrah decided against saying goodbye to his parents. He told himself, it would be too hard to explain what he was doing, but deep down, he knew it was shame that kept him from returning. Into the bush, he made his way back to Mini’s tree.

Back at the tree, the rabbit-rat was waiting beside it. Mini hugged and kissed his partner and baby rats, before climbing up Jarrah’s body, perching proudly upon Jarrah’s shoulder.

“Onward, my boy!” Mini said, pointing toward the plains. The two of them took off at pace.

Jarrah knew it was crazy, that he and Mini, a boy and a rodent, were heading out onto the plains, into the territories of the giant horned wombats and the man-eating kookaburras. It was crazy, absolutely nuts, this quest of his, to kill The Rainbow Serpent. Bloody bonkers, insane, yet as his shoulder bound friend and he ventured off, brimming with adrenaline, Jarrah felt something resembling hope. He knew that, most likely, this path he’s walking, would be a downward spiral towards his death and demise, but as long as a slim chance of redemption and restitution remained possible, nothing was going to stop him from forging on.