Waiting anxiously at the bar, Col was relieved when Cindy came in and smiled at him hugely. ‘They published your photograph. Congratulations.’ ‘...hanks and they paid for it.’ He attempted to hand Cindy three hundred bucks but she refused to take it or allow him to buy her a drink. ‘No, we had our contract.’ ‘The newspaper offered me a job and I’ve accepted.’ ‘Oh good for you,’ she said, patting his hand. ‘Luck comes to some of us.’ ‘That was a nice thing to say.’ She smiled and said saying. “You gibbit me, I do good job.”“That’s not necessary. I can do it.”“Not job for nungungi.”“I’m not nungungi.”“Nungungi dad’s nungungi.”I had clearly lost the argument. I appealed to my hostess.“Not a chance,” she said. “Better give in graciously.”So I did. Underwear, shirts, pants, socks. It was a decent-sized bundle.Lunch was fried chops and bread. In the afternoon I tried to work out where the aborigine camp was. It was near the Oonagie Sandhill about 200 kilometres from the Station. I could. More

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