We gather here today, to honour Maulboyheener and Tunnerminnerwait.

Two young Tasmanian men, whose lives met an untimely end.

Born here, in Van Diemen's Land, Tunnerminnerwait, near the shores where we stand.

The island behind us — his country, his own, across this land, Tunnerminnerwait would roam.

Here he learned of Country, and the spirits of ancestors in the sky.

Of animals, and the paths where the birds would fly.

Of ceremony, and songs from generations old, sacred knowledge passed down for him to hold.

Kinship and connection, the rules and the lore, stories etched deep into the island's shore.

One day, the ghosts came from across the sea, and all he knew would no longer be.

He bore witness with his very eyes, to the massacre — so many did die.

The country soaked in blood and tears, and the peace he knew gave way to fears.

Everything he once held was taken away, this is why we must remember Tunnerminnerwait.

Despite all he had seen, Tunnerminnerwait stayed strong, and his courage has ensured that his story lives on.

He learned to adapt to the white man's ways, his mind still sharp and alert during those dark days.

He learned to speak their native tongue, and they recorded his ways, the words and knowledge we are reviving today.

Tunnerminnerwait ended up on a island across the strait, and it was only a matter of time before he met his fate.

Him and a party of four, went on a campaign of resistance, and the settlers in Gippsland soon knew of their existence.

They stole guns, ransacked huts and burnt their money too, a message to the colonists of what resistance could do.

One day, they came across some whalers, weapons close at hand, and when the dust had settled, two whalers were dead on the sand.

The party of five went on the run, evading capture for a short time, before they were surrounded and captured for their crime.

Marched back to the city to be put before a court, and sentenced to death, their freedom cut short,

They were condemned to hang on this very day, and before his death, Tunnerminnerwait was heard to say.

I've got three heads, one for the gallows and one for the grave, and one will return home to roam the land the ancestors gave.

The crowd had gathered, whispers thick in the air, Tunnerminnerwait and his companion led up the stair.

No plea could save them no mercy was shown, the rope awaited and their fate was known.

The first public execution in the colony's grim tale, two lives were taken, yet their spirits still prevail.

They were buried quickly, in graves with no stone to stand, yet their spirit survives, forever tied to their land.

Their names were silenced, their graves left bare, yet this land remembers, we can feel them everywhere.

Through the rivers and mountains, their spirit roams free, in the wind, in the trees, in the song of the sea.

Their deeds will be remembered and their story forever told, and we remember their strength, still enduring, still bold.

Tunnerminnerwait returned home to roam the island he knew, today hunting kangaroo with his father under skies wide and blue.

Camilla Woolley is a proud Biripi woman and culture manager at North-West Tasmania's Circular Head Aboriginal Corporation.

She delivered the preceding poem on Country as part of Tunnerminnerwait Day commemorations held earlier this week.