They all stared through the windshield. Right in the middle of the road about fifty feet away, an enormous bull water buffalo blocked their path. His horns curved majestically backward like a pair of airborne wings as he placidly studied the vehicle.
“The herds tend to stay around the Yellow Water marshlands,” Alma murmured. “Not sure why he’s wandered this far afield.”
“We saw a lot of water buffalo in Sumatra,” Cassie volunteered. “They were domesticated, and people kept them like cattle.”
“These are different,” the scout countered. “They’re wild, bad-tempered, and very fierce.”
“How did they get here?” Daniel’s voice held a tremor.
“Brought over in the nineteenth century to supply meat for European colonists. Eventually, that scheme was abandoned and the animals that remained escaped to the outback. The government has tried culling them, but their numbers are up again. They’re bad for the eco-system but the tribes like them because they make good bush tucker.”
“Bush tucker?” the scion echoed.
“Food,” Alma replied bluntly. “Whatever your average gatherer-hunter can find to eat.”
“This guy doesn’t look like he’s ready to be turned into prime rib.” Cassie eyed the huge beast warily.
The water buffalo continued to size up the SUV. His rope of a tail swished back and forth in an agitated fashion while he pondered the situation. Nostrils flaring, he tipped up his nose, analyzing the vehicle’s scent.
Alma’s hand hovered over the gearshift, ready to throw the truck into reverse if he charged.
The bull snorted once, turning his head dismissively to the side. Then he ambled across the road and off into a grove of trees.
Their guide floored the gas pedal, and the truck jerked forward before the beast had a chance to change his mind.
Alma’s passengers were too shocked to speak for several minutes.
When they’d all recovered themselves, Griffin exhaled with relief. “Quite a perilous country you have here.”
“And you haven’t even seen the crocs yet.” The scout chuckled.
“Given a choice, I’d prefer not to make their acquaintance.”
Cassie glanced at the clock on the SUV’s dashboard. They’d been traveling for over two hours which meant they must be closing in on their destination.
Daniel abruptly spoke up. “Going back to our search for the Minoan lily, I can’t help but think it’s highly unlikely we would find it in this outlandish place. After all, Australia was only discovered by Captain James Cook in 1770.”
“Hmmph!” The scout sniffed. “Overlord history at its finest!”
Daniel hesitated, apparently remembering the in-flight lecture Griffin had given him on overlords.
Cassie swiveled in her seat to regard the scion dispassionately. “You got that bit of trivia while you were at the public library?”
“Public libraries.” Alma eyed the Nephilim grimly in the rearview mirror. “If you want to learn all about overlord methods of domination, subjugation, and exploitation, by all means, consult your public library books.”
In a somewhat more tactful tone, Griffin interceded. “Actually, Daniel, the ancients were well aware of Australia’s existence. The Phoenicians, Egyptians, Israelites, and Greeks all sent trading expeditions here. The continent appears on their maps as the land of Ophir. Without a doubt, the Minoans were aware of it too.”
Their guide picked up the thread. “There’s archaeological evidence of a Phoenician mining colony near Sarina in Queensland dating from around 1000 BCE, and it’s not the only one. Egyptian and Phoenician artifacts have been found in other parts of the country as well. Of course, it’s a touchy subject for the government. They don’t want to upset traditional cultures by poking around in those areas.”
“It’s like the kerfuffle in America over nine-thousand-year-old Caucasian mummies being found on tribal lands. It puts a crimp into the whole ‘First Peoples’ argument,” Cassie observed. “Very politically incorrect.”
Daniel stared at her open-mouthed. “Nine-thousand-year-old...” he trailed off.
“You won’t find that in your overlord history books,” Alma said. “Overlord contamination of Australia began much earlier than the eighteenth century. Thankfully, tribal culture is still heavily matristic.” She paused and turned to Cassie. “Does your Nephilim friend know what ‘matristic’ means?”
“He got a crash course on the plane,” the pythia murmured.
Alma nodded and continued. “Male dominance was not initially a part of aboriginal culture though it’s easy to see how it seeped in. The Phoenicians, Egyptians, Israelites, and Greeks were all overlord societies. The taint of their influence would have altered tribal behavior to some degree, at least for those in coastal regions. In later centuries, Melanesians, Indonesians, Tamils from India, and Arabs all came to Australia’s shores to fish or to trade. The seal hunters and whalers came to kill sea mammals and to abduct women. The continent was never the isolated landscape mainstream historians like to paint. Even some traditional aboriginal myths speak of culture heroes called the Uru who came from across the sea. They were megalith-builders who brought inventions with them to help civilize the land. They are described as tall, pale-skinned and blue-eyed.”
“Europeans?” Daniel asked incredulously.
“Far older than that,” Alma countered.
“There’s been no conclusive evidence of the existence of Atlantis,” Griffin piped up. “However, I’m willing to entertain the notion of a sophisticated culture which erected megaliths on every continent. Many mythologies tell stories of such beings. The feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl of the Mesoamericans is only one example. Perhaps these megalith-builders—Atlantean, Lemurian, or what have you—were wiped out in a global catastrophe but left behind a memory woven into tribal myths all around the world.”
The conversation ceased abruptly when Alma slowed the car to an idle. “We’re almost there,” she explained. “Just ahead is Cahill’s Crossing. It spans the East Alligator River.”
“Alligator?” Cassie echoed. “There aren’t any alligators in Australia.”
“A mistake made by the English bloke who named the bloody thing.” Alma focused her attention on the churning froth ahead of them and nodded approvingly. “It looks as if we hit it at low tide.”
Her passengers collectively drew in a sharp breath.
“But there’s no road,” Cassie protested. “You’re going to drive us across the top of a small waterfall.”
Unconcerned, Alma replied, “You should see it in
