Humanoid (Dream Warriors Book 1)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

JayJay chatted to a young woman with long, black corkscrew curls at the reception desk of the Quinkan Museum. Misty's rigid stance said so much about her feelings for him. She avoided my silent questioning and scurried inside the museum to view an overlarge statue of a Timara set in the middle of the gallery.

JayJay smirked over her telling reaction, said his goodbyes to the receptionist and summoned us into the corridor. 'Are you ready for Split Rock?'

Bundling into the Titan, he drove us south of Laura and onto the highway until we arrived next to a wooden corral with 'Split Rock' written in white letters. Leaving the truck in the empty car park, he guided us along a dirt path inside a visitor's kiosk. Made of corrugated iron with a wooden overhang, a steel framed door sat open in the entrance with heavy duty padlocks hung from strong metal bars. Cut into the wall, a metal letterbox protected the hole and CCTV cameras pointed at the 'honesty box' within. A sign recommended a fee of five dollars to cover basic site maintenance costs and upkeep.

'Too many visitors don't bother paying, which might force the Traditional Owners to discontinue public access,' JayJay warned.

He posted his five-dollar bill, mirrored by Jalun and Kiah. Blake glanced at me and I looked at Misty. We each took out a twenty-dollar bill from our wallets and stuffed them through the letterbox. Cheapskates and thieves, we would never be! Back home, artwork as ancient and unique as the Quinkan Rock Art, I guaranteed the entrance fee would cost an absolute fortune, if they ever even made it on public display.

Amid primitive maroon and yellow streaked sandstone boulders, baking in the afternoon sun, we hiked between thorny scrub and clambered up natural rocky steps of a worn path to the top of an isolated hilltop. At the peak of a steep knoll, we saw a wooden sign promoting the 'Rock Art Sites', an arrow pointing tourists towards the attraction.

During our trek, JayJay unconsciously switched into tour guide mode and led the way. Nestled upon the hill, sunrays lit up the tops of a crevice formed by two tall split rocks reaching high into the sky and identified the reason for the name of the gallery.

I scrambled down a small incline behind JayJay and Jalun onto a boardwalk running parallel to the artwork, followed by Kiah and Blake. Interpretive information plaques referred to those illustrations of particular interest, rough sketches helping visitors identify each painting. The notice suggested visitors' movements caused dust to settle on the lower panel of artwork, and the refurbished boardwalk prevented further damage whilst providing an elevated view.

Etched into the rock face, numerous paintings and engravings comprising lines, circles and hand stencils traversed the sandstone. Although the paintings at Split Rock weren't perhaps as impressive as those at the Quinkan Galleries, a genuine sense of the sacred overwhelmed the atmosphere, crafting an eerie and awe-inspiring ambience missing from the other exhibits.

'Split Rock paintings are thought to date back maybe fourteen thousand years,' JayJay explained once our eyes adjusted to the lack of light. 'Aboriginal lives revolved around customs and beliefs that are intricately entwined with plants, animals, waterways and the seasons, successfully providing them with food, shelter and a way of life for thousands of years.'

A dingo drawn in red ochre stared out from the jagged walls, next to a depiction of a woman painted in cream and outlined in red, recognisable by her large breasts. Her piercing gaze followed my arrival, foisting pinpricks of spiritual awareness along my rigid spine.

I halted in front of a vivid white drawing with its back to the viewer, decorated internally with meticulously arranged dark squares in the form of a pudgy baby-like creature. Its legs curved upwards around the sides of its body in an unnatural position, and its arms curled above a rugby-shaped head in a defiant posture.