Driving home, from Mulka's cave, a fox ran across the road in the dark. Seconds later, a white owl dived before my humble vehicle. My mind could not tear me from thinking about the cave. Mulka's cave has it's own traditional story, passed down by the Noongars. If we were to examine our own world tomorrow, it would be a complex task. We relate things to how we exist today. Examining different possibilities, and keeping human nature and history in mind, I think that the legend, is most likely, very close to the truth. I believe, however, that Mulka didn't really eat children...this was a subtle way of keeping the kids away from the cave because of the dangers of loose rocks and snakes. This was not a place to play in...Mulka may have been scaring everyone away. However, a child may have died here. Spearing is still a traditional means of punishments in some quarters. Death today, still sometimes brings retalliations.
Looking at my photographs, though, I think that there are older rock paintings as well as marks made during the time of the settlers. The word "axe" and hand stencils made in colours not used in other older Aboriginal rock art makes me think that someone trusted was brought here once. There are small painted hoof-prints above the back entrance, and I think that I imagined a large white animal with udders very close by. Is it possible that some cows made their way down into the cave, I wonder? Immediately beneath the painting is a small image which could be a child or a small animal. Examination of photographs show things not easily visible to the eye.
It would be so simple to stay here for a few minutes and leave, even if you have travelled a great distance to get here. It is a space that was probably used as a place of shelter in the most extreme weather conditions...the rocks make it a difficult living space. A culture that was used to sharing, would have sacrificed the living space if only a few could use it.
The enchanting sound of the tiny green-eyed finches and a few other diminutive flying native birds will leave an immortal sound in your ears. This is a quiet place. Sometimes, the most gentle things are the most difficult to forget.
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