I did not respond, my head now safely on my pillow, turned away from him. “Are you asleep, little girl?” He asked, his voice closer now. Still, I ...id not respond. I felt him pull my blanket back, the fabric moving slowly as he tugged it off the bed. He then sat down, the bed squeaking slightly from the shift in weight. “Sleeping so soundly…” I heard him mumble, his hand touching the back of my thigh lighty. His fingers inched up my exposed flesh, slipping under my tshirt and under my panties in. ”“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 see it taking three days to get there on foot. The Outback guide said just over nine hours by motor bike.The. More

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