Tona Lament
Across the landscape a giant flightless bird (Genyornis newtoni) is foraging amongst the plants at the edge of a shallow billabong adjacent to the Anabranch River. Water birds are feeding on duckweed amongst the tall weeds protruding from the water and a huge dragonfly flutters stationary above, searching for its next meal. The fringing Eucalypts seem to droop in the oppressive afternoon heat, ancient Acacias stand tall and strong, protecting their tenants and suppling nutrients to the soil below.
Waist deep on the opposite shore there is a small hippopotamus like plant eater, (Zygomaturus trilobus) feeding on the lush green reeds. You can hear the buzzing of insect life in the moist air.
As night settles the call of birds is replaced by the incessant croaking of frogs. Away to the north, lightning tears the sky and thunder rumbles across the flat, still landscape. Goomal, 'the old one', knows instinctively that the time of rains in the north are about to start. Soon the families will start the long journey to the northern lakes, in time for the time of plenty.
When they return the river will have moved, new channels will have been cut and new camps will be established
On the horizon tendrils of smoke rise into the air from the 200 Maurua peoples camped around the shore, tonight they will have a feast of freshwater mussels, golden perch and yams, resources that are plentiful and seem everlasting. If the young hunters are successful, families will share the roasted meat of the giant kangaroo Procoptodon goliah. Above the hum of the camps a distant roar is heard, the marsupial lion Thylacoleo carnifex hunts its evening meal. Children around the fire scatter to find their parents. But for tonight there are stories to be told, stories of the creation of the 'Paaka' or river by 'Old Pundu' the cod and how each sweep of his tail formed another bend.