In Days of Omen and Prophecy

Two Headed Mindi in the Hunt

~ Nullemengobeed, out of Bannockburn, north of Geelong, circa 1820-30

Omen of the Mindi Snake killed in a Hunt at Nullemengobeed, near Geelong, circa 1828

The Mindi is the double headed snake, or avenging spirit of the Kulin people. It could breathe out fire, and travel enormous distances, often stretching itself over the horizon from coil-gripped trees. It was seen as some sort of ultimate bringer of final truth in the form of punishment or tough justice. It was said to have brought the smallpox which affected or killed many aborigines. The smallpox scars were even called ‘scales of the Mindi’. It is said to have had its home near Mt Buckrabunyal, at the edge of the Victorian Mallee near Charlton.

“ I should here observe, that the natives sometimes, and when the wind is favourable, hunt round a kind of circle, into which they force every kind of animal and reptile to be found; they then fire the boundary, and so kill them for food; it matters not what they are, whether kangaroo, wombats, opossums, or black snakes; they are to them, with the exception of the last named, all alike; as are also lizards, toads, rats, mice, and wild dogs; they cook and eat them all. On one of these burning excursions, I remember a monster snake was killed, having two distinct heads, separating about two inches from the body, black on the back, with a brownish yellow belly, and red spots all over. It had been about nine feet long, but the fire had burnt the body in two, and being such an unnatural looking monster, the natives were terribly frightened at its appearance. Of the poisonous snakes generally, they are not the least afraid, for they eat them, after cutting off the heads, and roasting them in the usual manner.’ pp 96
William Buckley/John Morgan - The Life and Adventures of William Buckley 1852

In Days of Omen and Prophecy

We thought the change was a favourable wind
and us commanding the fire circle got it to ring,
focussing back down with us in our narrowed breadline
where our Wadthawurrung hunters killed everything.

Big Buckley was one of us by then, no two ways
about it; all the animals, fear-singed by the flame
went to our fire-free boundary gap, as culture playing
our redbeast across the elements united them tame.

There was never mere snake-fear among us back then,
snake roasted like eel, the poison - cut off with the head -
went long before seduction tempted knowing-death in men,
- no enlightened viper ever chanced a say on what we fed.

Kangaroos, wombats and possum: these were tucker.
Rats, reptiles, lizards and black snakes: a provident haul.
But then, in that cultural afternoon, the fire drew a monster
of a snake, it naturally frightened us terribly, he saw it all.

Mindi[ii] was different, but by times the serpent was found, he was
Divine hot justice past; already burnt in two! a covenant in parts
yet obviously he had been an ancient power, fully nine feet long, as
if it had as manifold a life; stretched dead, in culture torn apart.

Yakkai! This was Avenging Mindi dead - it had Two Heads!
as if mind poisoned at last by longevity in its vengeant lengths
in mentality, this split now yawned, all sense and omen bled
of the unnatural, dead, like us in an-other, not in single strength.

Yakkai! the old order of sizes and form was shattered
in double death, a Mindi of two heads reached the separations
and died. Down the one long dark spine where eternity mattered
we grasped this yellow bellied corpse of new dispensation?

in dread. Times split in the dragon of our apparition
as a momentous monstrosity, the ill-omened pilgrim duel
of germinal being or not being, the serpentine partition
of the soul, the split of consciousness sent our hearts dual.

Meaning what? It forked its head and doubled forks of the tongue
spoke death of the past life continuing the one rigid tradition
it burnt our last embraces as the ghost of the dead monster stung
at us, lost to law in the duplicitousness of our desolation...

where my panicked mother, Parrarwurnin Tallarwurnim
after went to him: Buckley-Mullengurk*, the resurrect ‘animadiate’
(jumped-up white) one, till my ‘skins’ mixed to this burning
where the snake is no longer caught as one we ate.

Our breadline broke. Is restoration better than never broken?
From singular fears of first soul we lived self’s doublecross,
needing that romanced fire out of the resurrection spoken,
where evil is defeat, as good taking-heart goes across

and back for this land’s people to be full for the good
and loved, cherished as this was my conception place...
I am their daughter, labouring under your pseudonyms, I live
in Buckley’s hope: the snake hunt-fire you also must face.


August 2001 © Wayne David Knoll, Melbourne University