---

They'd heard Cadlow's scream at least once more, returning more directly downcreek. At some point even that awful human sound blurred into the background of shifting trees and yelling bugs and became uncertain. The sergeant kept rounding them all up close together to be sure no-one strayed off, casting hard glances at every shadow that proved difficult to identify as though searching for something to snarl at.

By the time they tramped into camp it was approaching noon and the Europeans were sweltering, breathing out a heat little different to what was breathed in. Daniels, it seems, had been brushing the horses to a shine, and Ngamurudyin followed Garangwaari when she went to fetch another round of water once the first was distributed. Cotton's absence pulled like a lost tooth. Murphy's keen eyes noticed Jack looking more scuffed and pulled about than he had left and it occasioned a few tense words, a slight circle and unheard growling that would surely come to a head, but not yet. Not quite.

A piece of sugar and small pinch of salt was added to the new water when it came, and the sergeant settled to give their report. Murphy wasn't entirely surprised, having been working on getting sense from Thomas and his notes - only Thomas had encountered Cadlow's repeat before, it seemed, and 'something a friend said' had warned him away. The friend remained mysterious and Thomas sullen, instinctively loath to decipher his scanty notes from the time they did not remember. The sergeant was dissatisfied, but ordered hardtack made available for any who wanted it and took to reading the remnant of Calder's diary to those present, Garangwaari providing translation for those that spoke Darug.

"We not go up," was what Ngamurudyin thought sensible, after that.


Whilst she, Murphy and the sergeant set to talking over who might go where and whether to take the horses, Brigitte takes the opportunity to ask Garangwaari if she could ask the native man that had joined them a little more about what he might know. Hearing this, Jack scoots himself closer and adds his own questions:

[Language unknown: "Man avethohiscom re peany san ionurendetha ripaev vir tiwadibe stme,"] Garangwaari translates to Ngarungadurung whilst the baby gum-grins at him from her lap, forehead spotted with wardings. "I don't know a telling like that," she adds to Jack, "-but I am away from the land of my parents and know this country less. Just to beware of the witch-ghosts and not come up here."

[Language unknown: "Na ave wer om lesng tin sa antderconven,"] she adds to Ngarungadurung, her eyes flicking up as far as his lips.

Ngarungadurung is silent for an uncomfortably long time. He chews on the inside of his cheek and stares into the distance.

Finally, he speaks. [Language unknown: “Ee ulwail wh k laint n tio toecei'ropo. Lirom conhouive ncpris atad ck noive.”]

He doesn’t shift his gaze, but it’s clear he’s speaking to Garangwaari. He may or may not be addressing the Europeans too.

[Language unknown: “Thianykor asredi str n lesureoreainred ounillent. Powe'plca rilatethom anytraset ith. Alsimino protictio t ive Manwaseratin of elweilce. Ckicer ortal utsialch peany di staredant atisanlar he ho. Caei li ons hou on atou ateiveingoun.”

“E wa ie p atenotenc oulureers po elheic ainni t reatce. Ni Fo inbeur sa dinorethu K ardeensom nce on Honcesle. T eneeni fowi eenven'oerareion etwhsa pro No vir tha ch allandwil. Hases ingvorithardthi ove le ieetof Acnetrro, po leme reive i ckat ngpohi a es ave Sicapllo. In m tic ngndek t uton tiosetous ilol forch Onansentmi witsonder ncele.”

“Lo herndewas oveev ardwheveroerugh, ut t omstll a ounstaher ev nde ou Diwhonla. Om haomwher t protionti tichispro th teun arof nadin. Evloai is haserathe li ntenteons as o Eksifiin enitti er, fi setou alcaur ncion ilalek as n wer moson.”

“Na n p ch al osher tariwe na el, K ratwastio t tehe unad vorta yinprethe atint il rom estur, waat er hi nepout saivca.”

“Na er mawhi hattr venwasoeriouast. P a’er ekitil.”]

Garangwaari considers how to explain any of that to the Europeans. [Language unknown: "Fo ati ilnafo ol iollas ame a een ek nceousdin u ivain hasillpro n  derwerich tras, is, ble ho sela ol setdi p waeian ac earvorthu paess nothi thu hehi, thu?"] she asks.

"...he says he dreamed he went to the place of the witch-ghosts as he is in the world, or...he went into their story, where it roots in the country. He speared one of the witches, thinking to kill him, and it..." Garangwaari scrunches her face trying to put foreign words around concepts the whitefellas might not even have. "...the spear, that is from this time, this world how it is. Now this time is in the sorcerer, who is...out of his story, where he dies, because he has that outside-thing. He can come out of the ever-time, the Dreamtime, to where people are...where they think, they dream, in the time that spear exists and its knowledge is with him. The more he is seen and the worse he does here, the more he is free."

"He may come attack us, but he is not when he dies, so we could not fight him to the death; this man thinks that if the speared man could be tricked to come close, and the spear taken out of 'im, he would lose his time here, but also be here, and so die. He thinks maybe we could find out how to end the other witch-ghosts like that."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:22, Sun 30 Aug 2020.

Brigitte tried to follow what was being said, but the concepts were alien to her and she was having a hard time doing it. "So the spear is the key ?"

She looked to those around her in the hope they had a better grasp of what was going on.


-

"Yes, like a key," Garangwaari responds, glad to find a concept in common. "If this time, now, that is like a collar on the speared man, the spear makes it closed."

*Arrreeeuuuh* the baby adds.

[Language unknown: "Red daywasnot ughardintnteear sili...P to me ic romvenome k iv nceantwil tris pr hasntiwhe laronsand ne ol ardin irons, day ainamerut ol k din hi ofur,"] Garangwaari updates Ngarungadurung.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 21:58, Sun 30 Aug 2020.