Guts, blood and beer

Jon Ayling

When I finally dragged my ‘kill’ back to camp my legs started shaking and tears running down my cheeks. There was a five foot high pile of still quivering wallabies surrounded by four of five men armed with long knives in bloodied hands. Guts, blood and beer covered almost everything. I dropped my kill and approached the men who were very drunk by this stage. As I looked at the pile of bloody animals I realized that many had only been slit down the abdomen and were still alive with their eyes rolling and grunts emanating from bloody mouths. One older man told me to bring my two wallabies over, which I did, and he questioned me on being a ‘f—-n girlie’ for using an additional cartridge at point blank on the second wallaby. I received a belt round the head from the old man for wasting my father’s money. Everyone laughed at Geoff’s boy from the ‘big smoke’. As I winced from ‘the clip round the ears’ I watched another man slopping beer from his can while trying to crush the heads of two young joeys with the heel of his boot as they struggled desperately to escape from their mothers pouches near the bottom of the pile of bloodied fur. I was utterly distraught and became withdrawn so I sat in the car as the men kept drinking beer for many hours before driving home. Read more, Comment here