Daisy Bates
Living unafraid in the great loneliness, chanting in those corroborees it is death for a woman to see, she had become a legend, to her own kind…
Living unafraid in the great loneliness, chanting in those corroborees it is death for a woman to see, she had become a legend, to her own kind…
In 1927 Katherine Susannah Prichard ventured north (from Perth) by train and truck to stay with “a friend whose husband owned a cattle station”.
Today I detest even the picture of a Hereford cow. I loathe their white-washed faces, for I have ridden behind them, with eight of my own drovers, for six months, 1,000 miles as the route went but some 3,000 as I rode it
by Daisy Bates. Tribes, now far apart, whose very dialect has changed in the centuries, possess myths and legends whose similarity is evidence of tribal unity in some far-off time.