A crowd of men and women: perhaps three or four dozen. Every one of the women was tyereelore, and the men had the distinctive look of mariners: rough hewn and clothed practically, faces weathered and pocked. They stood and they sat and even reclined in the bowl of the ground, making loud conversational groups and audience rows. Over their heads a rough shelter had been constructed from crossed timbers: cut saplings and the weathered planks of ships. Dried tussocks had been piled on these to form a thatch. Here and there the night sky showed through gaps, its blackness made more profound by the light on the ceiling. For under the beams, wires and ropes had been looped across the space, and under these were strung lanterns. They were low enough to avoid any chance of them setting fire to the timber roof, and this put them in the way of the occasional head. They swung gently on their tethers so the rich yellow light pulsed and moved against the timbers, casting a honey glow over everything.

There were dogs under tables and chairs, dogs loping across the open space in front of the piano: tall, slender animals, placid in this environment but built for speed. Once I began to notice them, I found that they were everywhere, outnumbering the humans. In the centre of the amphitheatre a fire burned brightly in a hearth of circled rocks. And behind the fire, on a convenient rise in the ground, was a timber stage.

On it stood the piano. It was a small, box-shaped instrument, undecorated, and a girl was sitting at it.

She was serene, a still point in the crowd. Her hands rested in her lap, her long hair was tied in ribbons, and she wore a formal dress and shoes. I thought her to be about fourteen, a picture of mysterious beauty such as I’d never imagined could exist in the strait.

A narrow ledge hinged out from the front of the piano, and the papers upon it fluttered slightly in the breeze. A woman came up behind the girl and placed a solicitous hand on her shoulder. The woman was a native, short and strong, with a nest of copper-brown hair. She wore a warm dress made of hides with reddish fur: kangaroo, I thought. She spoke softly to the girl, bringing her face close, and tucked a strand of hair behind the girl’s ear as she did so.