Project Gutenberg's The Stone Axe of Burkamukk, by Mary Grant Bruce This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: The Stone Axe of Burkamukk Author: Mary Grant Bruce Illustrator: J. Macfarlane Release Date: March 7, 2018 [EBook #56699] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STONE AXE OF BURKAMUKK *** Produced by Al Haines Cover art "'No small beast did that,' he said. 'You are lucky to be alive, Tullum.'" (Page 15.) THE STONE AXE OF BURKAMUKK BY MARY GRANT BRUCE ILLUSTRATED BY J. MACFARLANE WARD, LOCK & CO., LTD. LONDON AND MELBOURNE 1922 FOREWORD Year by year the old black tribes are dying out, and many of their legends and beliefs are dying with them. These legends deal with the world as the blacks knew it; with the Bush animals and birds; the powers of storm, flood, fire, thunder, and magic, and the beings who they thought controlled these powers; with the sun, moon and stars; and with the life and death of men and women. Many of the old tales are savage enough, but through them runs a thread of feeling for the nobler side of life, so far as these wild people could grasp it. The spirit of self-sacrifice is seen in them, and greed, selfishness and cruelty are often punished as they deserve. We are apt to look on the blacks as utter barbarians, but, as we read their own old stories, we see that they were boys and girls, men and women, not so unlike us in many ways, and that they could admire what we admire in each other, and condemn what we would condemn. The folk-tales of a people are the story of its soul, and it would be a pity if the native races of our country were to vanish altogether before we had collected enough of their legends to let their successors know what manner of people lived in Australia for thousands of years before the white man came. Some valuable collections have indeed been made, but they are all too few; and there must even to-day be many people, especially in the wilder parts of Australia, who are in touch with the aborigines, and could, if they would, get the old men and women to tell them the stories which were handed down to them when they were children. In the hope of persuading all young Australians who have the opportunity to collect and preserve what they can of the ancient life and legends of Australia, I have put into modern English a few of the tales which may still be had from some old blackfellow or gin. M.G.B. CONTENTS I The Stone Axe of Burkamukk II Waung, the Crow III The Emu who would Dance IV Booran, the Pelican V The Story of the Stars VI How Light Came VII The Frog that Laughed VIII The Maiden who found the Moon IX Mirran and Warreen X The Daughters of Wonkawala XI The Burning of the Crows XII Kur-bo-roo, the Bear XIII Wurip, the Fire-Bringer I THE STONE AXE OF BURKAMUKK CHAPTER I The camp lay calm and peaceful under the spring sunlight. Burkamukk, the chief, had chosen its place well: the wurleys were built in a green glade well shaded with blackwood and boobyalla trees, and with a soft thick carpet of grass, on which the black babies loved to roll. Not a hundred yards away flowed a wide creek; a creek so excellent that it fed a swamp a little farther on. The blacks loved to be near a swamp, for it was as good as a storehouse of food: the women used to go there for lily-pads and sedge-roots, and the men would spear eels in its muddy waters, while at times big flocks of duck settled on it, besides other water-fowl. Burkamukk was a very wise chief, and all his people were fat, and therefore contented. As blacks count wealth, the people of Burkamukk were very well off. They had plenty of skin rugs, so that no one went cold, even in the winter nights; and the women had made them well, sewing them together with the sinews of animals, using for their needles the small bone of a kangaroo's hind-leg, ground to a fine point. It was hard work to sew these well, but the men used to take pains to get good skins, pegging them out with tea-tree spikes and dressing them with wood-ashes and fat, which they rubbed in until the skins were soft and supple; and so the women thought that the least they could do was to sew them in the very best way. Being particular about the rugs made the women particular about other things as well, and they had a far better outfit than could be found in most camps. Each woman had a good pitchi, a small wooden trough hollowed out of the soft wood of the bean-tree, in which food was kept. When the tribe went travelling the pitchi was as useful as a suit-case is to a white Australian girl; the lubras packed them with food, and carried them balanced on their heads, or slung to one hip by a plait of human hair, or a fur band; and sometimes a big pitchi was made by a proud father and beautifully carved with a stone knife, and used as a cradle for a fat black baby. Then the women used to weave baskets made of a strong kind of rush, ornamented with coloured patterns and fancy stitches, and each one had, as well, a bag made of the tough inner bark of the acacia tree, or sometimes of a messmate or stringy bark, in which she kept food, sticks and tinder for starting a fire, wattle-gum for cement, shells, tools, and all sorts of charms to keep off evil spirits. They had a queer kind of cooking-pot, in which they used to dissolve gum and manna. These pots were made out of the big rough lumps that grow out of old gum-trees, hollowed out by a chisel made of a kangaroo's thighbone. The women used to put gum and manna in these and place them near the fire, so that the water gradually heated without burning the wood. There was no pottery among the blacks, and so they could never boil food, but they contrived to make pleasant warm drinks in these wooden pots. When it came to baking, however, the women of the tribe were well able to turn out toothsome roasts. Their ovens were holes in the ground, plastered with mud, and then filled with fire until the clay was very hot. When the temperature was right the embers were taken out, and the holes lined with wet grass. The food—flesh, fish, or roots—was packed in rough rush baskets and placed in the ovens, and covered with more wet grass, hot stones, gravel, and earth, until the holes were quite air-tight. The women liked to do this in the evening, so that the food cooked slowly all night; and often all the cooking was done in a few big ovens, and next morning each family came to remove its basket of food. And if you had come along breakfastless just as the steaming baskets were taken out, and had been asked to join in eating a plump young bandicoot or wallaby or a fat black fish—well, even though there were no plates or knives or forks, I do not think you would have grumbled at your meal. The men of Burkamukk's tribe were well armed. Their boomerangs, spears and throwing-sticks were all of the best, and they had, in addition, knives made of splinters of flint or sharpened mussel-shell, lashed into handles. Some had skinning knives made of the long front teeth of the bandicoot, with the jaw left on for a handle; and they worked kangaroo bones into all kinds of tools. But Burkamukk himself had a wonderful weapon, the only one in all that district —a mighty axe. It was made of green stone, wedge-shaped, and sharply ground at one edge. This was grasped in the bend of a doubled piece of split sapling, and tightly bound round with kangaroo sinews; and the handle thus formed was additionally strengthened by being cemented to the head by a mixture of gum and shell lime. It was not a very easy matter to make that cement. First, mussel shells were burned to make the lime, and pounded in a hollow stone. Then wattle-gum was chewed for a long time and placed between sheets of green bark, which were laid in a shallow hole in the ground and covered with hot ashes until the gum was dissolved, when it was kneaded with the lime into a tough paste. The blacks would have been badly off without that cement, but not all of them would go to the trouble of making it as thoroughly as did the men of Burkamukk's tribe. All the best workmanship had gone to the manufacture of Burkamukk's axe, and the whole tribe was proud of it. Sometimes the chief would lend it to the best climbers among his young men, who used it to cut steps in the bark of trees when they wanted to climb in search of monkey-bears or 'possums; or he would let them use it to strip sheets of bark from the trees, to make their wurleys. Those to whom the axe was lent always showed their sense of the honour done them by making payment in kind—the fattest of the game caught, or a finely-woven rush mat, would be laid at the chief's door. If this had not been done Burkamukk would probably have looked wise next time some one had wished to borrow his axe, and would have remarked that he had work for it himself. Even though he occasionally lent the axe, Burkamukk never let it go out of his sight. It was far too precious a possession for that. He, too, went hunting when the axe went, or watched it used to prise great strips of thick bark off the trees, and he probably worried the borrower very much by continually directing how it should be handled. Not that the young men would have taken any risks with it. It was the chief's axe, but its possession brought dignity upon the whole tribe. Other chiefs had axes, more or less excellent, but there was no weapon in all the countryside so famous as the axe of Burkamukk. I doubt whether the Kings of England have valued their Crown Jewels so highly as Burkamukk valued his stone treasure with the sapling handle. Certainly they cannot have found them half so useful. On this spring afternoon Burkamukk was coming up from the swamp where he had been spearing eels. He had been very successful: Koronn, his wife, walked behind him carrying a dozen fine specimens, and thinking how good a supper she would be able to cook, and how delighted her little boy Tumbo would be; for of all things Tumbo loved to eat eel. Just at the edge of the camp Burkamukk stopped, frowning. A hunting-party of young men had evidently just returned; they were the centre of a group in the middle of the camp, and still they were carrying their spears and throwing-sticks. They were talking loudly and gesticulating, and it was clear that those who listened to them were excited and distressed; there were anxious faces and the women were crying "Yakai!" (Alas!). The chief strode up to the group. "What is the matter?" he asked. The men turned, saluting him respectfully. "We have fallen upon evil times, Chief," their leader answered. "Little game have we caught, and we have lost Kon-garn." "Lost him! How?" "There is a great and terrible beast in the country to which we went," answered Tullum, the young warrior. "The men of the friendly tribe we passed told us of him, but we thought they were joking with us, for it seemed a foolish tale, only fit to make women afraid. They told us of a great kangaroo they call Kuperee, larger than a dozen kangaroos and fiercer than any animal that walks on the earth; and they warned us not to go near his country." "A kangaroo as large as a dozen!" said Burkamukk. "Ky! but I would like to see such a beast The whole tribe could feed on him." "Ay, they might, if one had the luck to be able to kill him," said Tullum sorrowfully. "But a kangaroo of that size is no joke to encounter." "What!" said Burkamukk. "Do you mean me to believe that there is truly such a kangaroo?" "There is indeed," Tullum answered. "We also did not believe. We went on, thinking that the other tribe merely wished to keep us away from a good hunting-ground. We took no precautions, and we came upon him suddenly." "And he was a big kangaroo, do you say?" Tullum flung out his hands. "There are no words to tell you of his bigness, O, Chief!" he said—and his voice shook with terror. "Never has such an animal been seen before. Black is he, and huge, and fierce; and when he saw us he roared and rushed upon us. There was no time to do battle: he was on us almost before one could fling a spear. Kon-garn was nearest, and he went down with one blow of the monster's foot, his head crushed. Me he struck at, but luckily for me I was almost out of his reach. Still, he touched me—see!" He moved aside his 'possum-skins, and showed long wounds, running from his shoulder to his wrist—wounds that looked as though they had been made by great claws. Burkamukk looked at them closely. "No small beast did that," he said. "You are lucky to be alive, Tullum." "Ay," said Tullum briefly. "Indeed, I thought for a while that I was as dead as Kon-garn. But I managed to dodge behind a tree, and the bush was thick, so that by great good fortune I got away. Kuperee gave chase, but we all scattered, and luckily the one he chose to follow was Woma, who is the swiftest of us all; and Woma gave him the slip without much trouble, for Kuperee is so great that he cannot get through the trees quickly. So we came together again after a day and a night, and travelled home swiftly." "And none of you went back to avenge Kon-garn?" the chief asked, sternly. Tullum looked at him with a curious mixture of shame and defiance. "Nay," he said. "None of us have ever been reckoned cowards—and yet we did not go back. An ordinary enemy would not have made us afraid, but there is something about Kuperee that turns the very heart to water. We hated ourselves—we hate ourselves still—for not going back. The blood of Kon-garn cries out to us for vengeance on his slayer, and in our sleep we see our comrade, with his head crushed by that terrible foot. And yet we could not turn. We have come home to you like frightened children, and shame is on our heads. We know not how to face Kon-garn's wife, who sits there and cries 'Yakai!' before her wurley." Another of the warriors, Woma the Swift-footed, spoke up, with sullen anger in his voice. "We are shamed," he said, "but there is Magic in it. No true animal is Kuperee, but an evil spirit. No man could possibly stand before him." To put anything they could not understand down to the score of Magic and evil spirits was the usual custom of the blacks; but this time it seemed more than usually likely to be true. The Meki-gar, or medicine-men, nodded wisely, and the women all shuddered and wailed afresh, while the men looked anxious and afraid. Burkamukk thought for a moment before replying. He was a very wise chief, and while he was just as afraid of Magic as any other blackfellow, still he had the safety of his tribe to consider. "That is all very well," he said, at length. "Very likely it is true. But it may not be true after all: Kuperee may be no more than a very wonderful kangaroo who has managed to grow to an enormous size. If that is so, he will want much food, and gradually he will hunt farther and farther, all over the country, until at last he will come here. Then we shall all suffer." "Ay," said the men. "That is true. But what can we do?" "I will not sit down quietly until I know for certain that Kuperee is Magic," said Burkamukk, striking the ground with the butt of his eel-spear. "If indeed he be Magic, then it will be the part of the Meki-gar to deal with him. But first I would have my young men prove whether they cannot avenge Kon-garn. It is in my mind that this Kuperee is no more than a huge animal; and I want his blood. Who will shed it for me?" There was no lack of brave warriors among the men of Burkamukk. A shout went up from them, and immediately forty or fifty sprang before him, waking all the Bush echoes with their yells of defiance against Kuperee or any other giant animal, whether kangaroo or anything else. Only Tullum and the hunters who had been with him hung back; and they were unnoticed in the general excitement. "Ye are too many," Burkamukk said, surveying them proudly. "Ten such men should be a match for any kangaroo." He ran his eye over them rapidly and counted out half a score by name. Then he bade the other volunteers fall back, so that the chosen warriors were left standing alone. "It is well," he said. "Namba shall be your leader, and you will obey him in all things. Find out from Tullum where to look for this Kuperee, and see that you go warily, and that your weapons are always ready. Go; seek Kuperee, and ere seven sleeps have gone, bring me his tail to eat!" He stalked towards his wurley. The young men, shouting yells of battle, rushed for their weapons. In ten minutes they had gone, running swiftly over the plain, and the camp was quiet again, save for the cries of Kon-garn's wife as she mourned for her husband. But alas! within a few days the wife of Kon-garn was not the only woman to bewail her dead. In less than a week the hunting-party was back, and without three of its bravest warriors. The survivors told the same story as Tullum and his men. They had found Kuperee, this time roaming through the Bush in search of food; and he had uttered a roar and rushed upon them. They had fought, they said, but unavailingly: spears and throwing-sticks seemed to fall back blunted from the monster's hide, and two of the men had been seized and devoured, while the third, Namba, who rushed wildly in, frantically endeavouring to save them, had been crushed to earth with one sweeping blow. Then terror, overwhelming and unconquerable, had fallen on the seven men who remained, and they had fled, never stopping until they were far away. Weaponless and ashamed, they crept back to the camp with their miserable story. Burkamukk heard them in silence. Other chiefs might have been angry, and inflicted fierce punishments, but he knew that to such men there could be no heavier penalty than to return beaten and afraid. He nodded, when they had finished. "Then it would surely seem that Kuperee is Magic," he said. "Therefore no man can deal with him, save only the medicine-men. Go to your wurleys and rest." The Meki-gar were not at all anxious for the task of ridding the earth of Kuperee, but since their art, like that of all medicine-men, consisted in saying as little as possible, they dared not show their disinclination. Instead, they accepted Burkamukk's instructions in owl-like silence, making themselves look as wise as possible, and nodding as though giant kangaroos came their way—and were swept out of it—every day in the week. Then they withdrew to a lonely place outside their camp and began their spells. They lit tiny fires and burned scraps of kangaroo-hide, throwing the ashes in the air and uttering terrible curses against Kuperee. Also they secretly weaved many magic spells, sitting by their little fires and keeping a sharp look-out lest any of the tribe should see what they were doing—an unnecessary precaution, since the tribe was far too terrified of Magic to go anywhere near them. When they had been at work for what they considered a sufficient length of time, they packed up all their charms in skin bags, and returned to the camp, where they told Burkamukk that Kuperee was probably dead, as a result of their incantations. "But if he is not," said their head man, "then it is because we have nothing belonging to Kuperee himself to make spells with. If we had so much of a hair of his tail, or even one of the bones that he has gnawed, then we could make such a spell that nothing in the world could stand against it. As it is, we have done wonderful things, and he is very likely dead. Certainly no other Meki-gar could have done as much." Burkamukk thanked the Meki-gar very respectfully. He did not understand their Magic at all, and he was badly afraid of all Magic; still, he knew that the Meki-gar did not always succeed in their undertakings, and he felt that though their spells were, no doubt, strong, there was quite a chance that Kuperee was stronger. He would have felt much happier had the Meki-gar been able to prove that the enemy was dead. "If I could give them a hair of his tail," thought he, "there would be no need for spells, since Kuperee will certainly be dead before he allows anyone to meddle with his tail." It was with some bitterness that he dismissed the wise men, giving them a present of roasted wallaby. It was not long before proof came that the Magic of the Meki-gar had been at fault. Burkamukk's young men, out hunting, met a hunting-party of a friendly tribe, from whom they learned that the great kangaroo was fiercer and more powerful than ever, and had slain many men in the country to the north. As Burkamukk had foreseen, he was ranging farther and farther afield, so that no district could feel safe from him. It could be only a question of time before Kuperee would wander down to his country. Burkamukk held a council of war that night, at which all the warriors and the Meki-gar were present. The chief wanted to lead his best men against the monster, but the Meki-gar opposed the suggestion vigorously, saying that it was not right for the head of the tribe to run into a danger such as this. An ordinary battle was all very well, but this was Magic, and against it chiefs were just as ordinary men: and where would the tribe be without its mighty head? The warriors supported the Meki-gar, and they all argued about it until Burkamukk was ready to lose his temper. He had no wish to see his best hunters grow fewer and fewer—already two expeditions had ended in disaster and loss. The discussion was becoming an angry one when suddenly the chief's two eldest sons, Inda and Pilla, rose and spoke. They were young men, but already they were renowned hunters, famous at tracking and killing game: and besides their skill with weapons, it was said that they had learned from the Meki-gar much wisdom beyond the knowledge of ordinary men. Straight and tall as young rushes, they faced their father. "Let us go," Inda said—"Pilla and I. Numbers are useless against Kuperee; it is only cunning that will slay him, and for that two men are better than a score. Give us a trial, and if we fail, then will be time enough to talk of a great expedition." The chief looked at them with angry unhappiness. "And if you fail?" he said. "Then I shall have lost my sons." "What of that?" asked Pilla. "You have other sons, and we will have died for the tribe. That is the right of a chief's son. Other men's sons have tried, and some of them have died. Now it is our turn." A murmur of dissent ran round the circle, for Pilla and Inda were much loved; and they were very young. But Burkamukk looked at them proudly, though his face was very sad. "They say rightly," he said. "They are the chief's sons, and it is their privilege, if need be, to die for the tribe. Go, then, my sons, and may Pund-jel make your hearts cunning and your aim steady when you meet Kuperee." "There is one thing we desire," Inda said. "Will you lend us your stone axe, my father? It seems to us that Kuperee will fall to no ordinary weapon, and a dream has come to us that bids us take the axe. But that is for you to say. It is a great thing to ask; but if we live we will bring it back to you in safety." Burkamukk signed to a young man who stood near him, and bade him fetch the axe from his wurley. When it came, he handed it to his sons. "It is a great treasure, but you are my sons, and you are worthy to bear it," he said. "Never before has it left my sight in the hands of any warrior, and I would that I were the one to wield it against Kuperee. Good luck go with it and with you, my sons!" So Inda and Pilla made themselves ready to go, preparing as if they were to take part in a splendid corroboree. They painted themselves with white stripes, and over and under their eyes and on their cheeks drew streaks of red ochre. Round their heads they wore twisted bands of fur, and in these bands they stuck plumes, made of the white quill feathers of a black swan's wing. Kangaroo teeth were fastened in their hair, and necklaces of the same teeth hung down upon their breasts. From their shoulders hung the tails of yellow dingos. They wore belts and aprons of wallaby skin, and, fastened behind to these belts, stiff upright tufts of the neck feathers of the emu, like the tail of a cock. They bore many weapons, and each took it in turn to carry the stone axe of Burkamukk. The whole tribe came out to watch them go, and while the men were envious, the women wailed sadly, for they were young, and it seemed that they were going forth to die. CHAPTER II Pilla and Inda travelled swiftly through the Bush for the first two days of their journey. They passed through good hunting country, where they were tempted by the sign of much game, but they would not allow themselves to turn aside, greatly as they longed for fresh meat. They carried a little food with them, and were fortunate in finding much boombul, which the white people afterwards called manna—a sweet white substance rather like small pieces of loaf-sugar, with a very delicate flavour. Boombul drops from the leaves and small branches of some kinds of gum-trees, and the blacks loved to eat it, so Pilla and Inda thought themselves very lucky. They met friendly blacks now and then, as they travelled, and heard many stories of the ferocity of Kuperee. Some of the reports were very terrifying. It was difficult to find out how huge he was, for he seemed to grow in size according to the terror of the men who had seen him: some of whom said he was as large as any gum-tree. But all were agreed as to his fierceness. He devoured men in a single gulp: he struck them down as one might strike a yurkurn, or lizard: his swiftness in pursuit was terrible to see. The man he chased had no chance whatever, unless he managed to reach thick timber, where Kuperee's size prevented his taking the gigantic leaps which so quickly ended a chase on open ground. And about all the tales hung the sense of blind fear which the great beast seemed to inspire. No matter how brave a fighting-man might be, the sight of Kuperee seemed to turn his heart to water, making him long only to flee like a frightened child. Their voices shook with terror as they spoke of him. "It seems to me," said Inda, as they journeyed on, after having talked to some of these hunters, "that our first thought should be for ourselves. All these men have thought themselves very brave, and have gone out to meet Kuperee, never doubting that they would not be afraid: and they have become very afraid indeed. Now you and I are no cowards in ordinary fighting, and we have had no fear of ourselves. But I think we had better make up our minds that we certainly shall become afraid, and decide what to do. I do not wish to lose my senses and run away like a beaten pickaninny." "That is good sense," said Pilla. "Perhaps if we managed to keep our heads during our first terror it might pass after a time, so that we should again be as men." "That is my idea," Inda answered. "And if Kuperee did not happen to see us while we were afraid, so much the better for us. I do not believe that fear will be with us always, but still, we are no better than all these other men. I believe we will get an attack of it, and then it will pass off, like an attack of sickness, if we treat it properly." "Yes," said Pilla, nodding. "But if we run away we shall be afraid for ever—always supposing we are not dead." "If we run away, the one that Kuperee runs after will certainly be dead," Inda said. "Therefore, let us go very warily, and perhaps we can manage so that he does not see us during our first fear." "It is a queer thing," Pilla said, laughing, "for hunters to go out making certain of being afraid." "I think it is a safe thing just now," said Inda shortly. "This hunting is not like other hunting." So they went on, keeping a very sharp look-out, and having their weapons always ready. The stone axe of Burkamukk was rather troublesome to them, for their hands were encumbered with spears and throwing-sticks, and they were not used to carrying an axe: so, at last, Inda twisted strings of bark and slung it across his shoulders, where it felt much more comfortable. Soon they came upon traces of the great beast they sought. The forest began to be full of his tracks, and the saplings had been pulled about and gnawed by some creature larger than anything they had ever seen. And then, one evening, they heard running feet, and, leaping to one side, spear in hand, they saw half a dozen men, racing through the Bush, blind with terror. One slipped and fell near where they were standing, and rolled almost to their feet. Pilla and Inda drew him into a thicket. "Is Kuperee after you?" they asked. The man rolled his eyes upwards. "He has slain two of us, and is now in pursuit of us all," he panted. "Let me go!" He scrambled to his feet and dashed away. Pilla and Inda crouched low in the thicket, seeing nothing. But presently they heard a mighty pounding through the trees fifty yards away: and though nothing was visible, the sound of those great leaps was so terrifying in itself that they found themselves trembling. The pounding died away in the direction in which the blacks had gone. "Ky! what a tail he must have, that makes the earth shake as he goes!" Inda muttered. "Never have I heard anything like it! Art afraid, Pilla?" "Very much, I believe," said Pilla. "But it will pass, I feel sure. Brother, it seems to me that Kuperee's den must be not far off, and it would be safe to try to find it, since he has gone southward for his hunting: and most likely he will return slowly. Let us push on, while we can go quickly." "That is good talk," Inda answered. "Perhaps we can hide ourselves near his den, and watch him without being seen. I should like to get my terror over in a high tree." "I, too," said Pilla. "I fancy the attack might pass more quickly. Let us hurry." They pushed onward as fast as possible. It was not hard to find the way, for the blacks had fled too madly to trouble about leaving tracks, and the marks of their running made a clear path, to native eyes. Soon, too, they came upon Kuperee's tracks—great footprints and deep depressions in the earth where his enormous tail had hit the ground at every bound. Then the Bush became more and more beaten down, as though some great animal roamed through it constantly; and at last they found the body of a hunter, struck down from behind as he ran. "It was no playful tap that killed him," said Pilla, with a shudder. "The other, I suppose, was eaten as Kuperee loves to eat men, in one gulp. See, Inda—is not that where he sleeps?" They were near a cleared space, where the ground was much trampled. Bones lay here and there, and in the shadow of a dense lightwood tree in the middle the grass showed clearly where a great body had often lain. No kangaroo has any kind of hole, for they love the Bush to sleep in, and Kuperee was evidently like other kangaroos in this. Probably he changed his home often; but this was a good place, ringed about with bushes that made it quiet and hard to find, so that no enemy was likely to come upon him too suddenly; while, from his lair under the lightwood, he could see anything approach. "Men, or animals, or leaves—it does not seem to matter to him what he eats," said Inda, looking at the lair. "No wonder he grows huge. Pilla, I am very afraid, but I feel I will not always be afraid. Let us climb up into the lightwood tree; he will never see us among its thick leaves. Then he will come home tired, and perhaps we can spear him as he sleeps." They climbed up into the dense branches, mounting high, and choosing stout limbs to lie on where they could peer down below; and they fixed their spears and other weapons so that they could use them easily. The stone axe of Burkamukk was much in Inda's way in climbing, and finally he untied it from his shoulders. "I do not see how I can use this in the tree," he said. "See, I will strike it into the trunk, so that we can get at it handily if we need it." He smote it against the trunk, and the wood held it fast. Then he and Pilla took their places, and watched for the coming of Kuperee. They had not long to wait. Presently came, far off, the sound of great bounds and breaking saplings; not, as they had heard it last, in the fierceness of pursuit, but slowly, as a man may return home after successful hunting. The brothers felt their hearts thumping as they waited. Nearer and nearer came the sound, and soon the bushes parted and a mighty kangaroo hopped into the clearing. So huge was he, so black and fierce, that they caught at each other in terror. Never had they dreamed of any kangaroo like this. His fur was thick and long, and of a glossy black; his head carried proudly aloft, his great tail like the limb of a tree. And in his gleaming eyes, and on his fierce face, was an expression of cunning and ferocity that, even more than his size, made him unlike any animal the Bush had ever known. Something of mystery and terror seemed to surround him; it was indeed clear that he was Magic. Pilla and Inda trembled so that they feared that the lightwood would shake and reveal them to the monster. He sat down, out on the clear space, and rubbed his mouth with his forepaws, sniffing at the air so that they fell into a further terror, thinking he had smelt them out. But one blackfellow smells much like another, and Kuperee had recently dealt with three blacks: if he noticed any unusual odour he put it down to his late meal. He felt sleepy and well- fed; he had enjoyed both his run and his meal. Now, he only wanted sleep. He hopped towards the lightwood, and at his coming Pilla and Inda felt themselves gripped by overmastering fear. Their teeth chattered; their dry tongues seemed to choke them. They clung to their boughs, dreading lest their trembling hold should loosen, bringing them tumbling at his feet. So, gripping with toes and fingers, with sweating cheeks pressed closely to the limbs, with staring eyes that peered downwards, they watched the dreadful beast come. He came in under the tree and lay down, stretching himself out to sleep; and in a few moments his heavy breathing showed that he had passed quietly into slumber. As they watched, something of their terror left the brothers. Asleep, Kuperee was not so horrible; he looked, indeed, not so unlike any other kangaroo, with his fierce eyes veiled and the strength of his great body relaxed. "I believe my time of fear is passing," Inda whispered. "He is but a kangaroo, after all." "Yes, but what a terrible one!" murmured Pilla, as well as his chattering teeth would let him. "Still, we are mighty hunters, and no fools: unless he is really Magic we should be able to subdue him. I am beginning to feel a man again." "We do not know for certain that he is Magic. Let us believe, then, that he is not, and that will help us," Inda whispered. "Why should we not spear him as he lies?" "We might easily do it. Let us creep to the lower boughs, where we shall have more room to move our arms. Art afraid any longer, Inda?" "Not as I was," Inda replied. "At least, not while he sleeps." "Then let us try to arrange that he shall never wake," Pilla murmured. Very softly, with infinite caution, they crept down the tree, until they came to the great lower limbs. Here they had space to swing their arms, and they made their weapons ready. Below, the huge kangaroo never stirred. His deep breathing, telling of sound slumber, was music in the ears of the brothers. They nodded a signal to each other as they poised their first spears. So swiftly did they throw that before Kuperee was aroused from his sleep a shower of throwing-sticks and spears had hurtled through the air. Not one missed; the mark was easy, and the brothers were proved hunters. The weapons sped fast and true. But a terrible thing happened. Each point, as it struck Kuperee's fur, became blunt, and, instead of piercing him in fifty places, the weapons fell back from him, spent and useless. With a groan of fear, the brothers grasped at the branches and swung themselves aloft. Below, Kuperee's roar of fury drowned all other sounds. He sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing. He had received no injury, but he had been touched—that in itself was an indignity he had never suffered before. With another earth-shaking roar he looked about for his foes. To be attacked from the air was a new experience for Kuperee. All his other enemies had come upon him out of the Bush, and it never occurred to him, in his rage, to look upward, where the shaking of the branches would certainly have revealed the terrified Pilla and Inda. Instead, seeing nothing, Kuperee made sure that the trees concealed the attackers. He roared again, dreadfully, and bounded across the clearing. The Bush closed behind him, but the sky rang with the echo of his terrible voice and the thud of the leaps that carried him rapidly away. Kuperee sleeping and Kuperee awake and angry were two very different beings, and with the first movement of the monster all their fear had come back to Pilla and Inda. As roar succeeded roar they became more and more weak with terror. Their grip on the boughs relaxed with the trembling of their hands, and even as Kuperee bounded away they lost their hold and tumbled bodily out of the tree. It was not far to the ground, but Pilla happened to fall first, and Inda fell on top of him, and they managed to hurt each other a good deal. They were in that excited and over-wrought state when anything seems an injury, and each lost his temper. "You did that on purpose!" Pilla said, striking at his brother. "Take that!" "Would you!" said Inda, between his teeth. "I'll teach you to hit me!" He stooped and picked up one of the throwing-sticks and flung it at his brother. It hit Pilla violently on the nose, and made him furiously angry. He gathered an armful of the fallen spears, and, running back, threw them at Inda so swiftly that there was no time to dodge. They hit him all over his body, and though they had all become blunt, they hurt very badly. The blood was streaming from Pilla's nose, and when he had thrown all his spears he stopped to wipe it off with a tuft of grass. The pause gave them time to think, and they stared at each other. Suddenly they burst out laughing. "What fools we are!" they said. "Yes, we are indeed fools," said Inda, rubbing his bruises. "Kuperee may be back at any moment, and here we will be found, fighting each other like a couple of stupid boys. I am sorry I hurt you, brother." "You have certainly done that," said Pilla, caressing his nose gently. "There will be a dint down my nose for ever— the bone is broken, I think. Why don't you hit Kuperee as hard as that?" "I will, if I get the chance," Inda said. "And you yourself are no child when it comes to throwing spears—a good thing for me that they were blunt. Yes, brother, we are the biggest fools in the Bush. Now what are we to do?" "Save yourself!" screamed Pilla. "Here comes Kuperee!" The great kangaroo came bounding back through the bushes, and the brothers, wild with terror, flung themselves at the lightwood tree. Up they went, but only just in time. Inda's heel was grazed by Kuperee's claw as he gained the safety of the lower branches. He climbed up swiftly, and, clinging together, they looked down at their foe. "He cannot climb!" gasped Pilla. "No, but he will have the tree down!" cried his brother. Kuperee was flinging himself against the tree, until it rocked beneath the blows of his great body. Again and again came the dull thud as he drew himself back and came dashing against the trunk. Gradually it yielded, beginning to lean sidewards. Lower and lower it came, and Kuperee, rising high on his hind-legs and tail, clawed upward at Inda. As the hunter, with a cry of despair, tried to pull himself higher, Pilla, leaning from an upper branch, thrust something into his hand. "It is the stone axe of our father," he gasped. "Strike with it, brother!" Inda grasped the handle, and smote downward with all his might. The keen edge of the stone caught Kuperee in the forehead, and sank into his head. He fell back, wrenching the axe from Inda's hand. One more terrific roar rent the air—a cry of pain and anger fearful to hear. Then, with a dull groan the monster sank sidewards to the grass. He was dead. It was long before Pilla and Inda dared to quit the shelter of the leaning tree. They could scarcely believe that their enemy was dead, until they saw the mighty limbs stiffen, and beheld a crow perch, unmolested, on Kuperee's head. Then the brothers came down from the tree and clasped each other's hands. "That was a good blow of yours," said Pilla. "Ay, but it would never have been struck had you not put the axe into my hands," said Inda. "I had forgotten all about it. Our names will live long, brother." "That will be agreeable, but I wish my nose were not so sore," said Pilla. "And your bruises—how are they?" "Sore enough—but I had almost forgotten them. Ky, but I am hungry, Pilla!" "I, too," said Pilla, looking with interest at the great dead body. "Well, at least we have plenty of food— Burkamukk said long ago that Kuperee should be enough for the whole tribe. Let us skin him carefully, for his hide will be a proud trophy to take back to our father—if we can but carry it." "We shall eat him while it is drying," Inda said. "Then the skin will be lighter, and we shall be exceedingly strong. Come, brother—my hunger grows worse." They fell to work on the huge carcass with their sharp skinning-knives, made of the thigh-bones of kangaroos. And then befel the most wonderful thing of all. CHAPTER III Inda and Pilla took off the black hide of Kuperee, and pegged it out carefully with sharp sticks. Then they came back to the body, and their eyes glistened with satisfaction. Meat is the best thing in the world to a blackfellow, and never before had either seen so much meat. It was almost staggering to think that it was theirs, and to be eaten. All they had feared and suffered became as nothing in the prospect of that tremendous feast. "Yakai!" mourned Pilla. "We shall never finish it all before it goes bad, not though we eat day and night without ceasing—as I mean to do." "And I also," agreed Inda. "Let us make ovens before we begin to cut him up—we shall waste less time that way. Some of him will certainly go bad, but we will do our best." They were turning aside to gather sticks when Pilla suddenly caught at his brother's arm. He happened to seize a bruised part, and Inda was justly annoyed. "Take care, blockhead!" he said, shaking him off roughly. "I ache all over—is it not enough for you?" Pilla took no notice. He was staring at the skinned body of Kuperee, with eyes that were almost starting from his head. "Look!" he gasped. "Look! He moves!" Inda leaped to one side. "Moves!" he uttered. "Are you mad?" "I saw his side move," Pilla repeated. "See—there it is again!" Something bulged under the stripped skin of the monster. The brothers leaped backward. "But he is certainly dead," gasped Inda. "Have we not skinned him? Can a skinned animal move—even if he be Kuperee?" "Let us leave him and go home," muttered Pilla. "He is very bad Magic." But that was more than Inda could bring himself to do. "Leave him!" he exclaimed. "Leave the most wonderful feast ever heard of in all the Bush! No, I will not. Magic or no Magic, he is dead, and I will see what moves." He sprang forward, knife in hand, and with a quick movement slit open the body. Out popped a head—a black head, with fear and pain and bewilderment on its features. Inda sprang back, raising his knife to defend himself. "Let me out!" begged the head. "It is horrible in here—no air, no light, nothing but dead men! Let me out, I say!" "Are you Magic?" gasped Inda. "Magic? I?" The wild eyes rolled in astonishment. "I am Kanalka, of the Crow Tribe, But an hour ago Kuperee swallowed me at a gulp, when he came upon me in the forest. I do not know why I am not dead—but I live yet, though I was wishing to die when suddenly you let the light in to my prison. Make your hole larger, friend, and let me out." "Do you say there are dead men there?" demanded Pilla. "He is full of them. I only am alive, I suppose because I was the last eaten. Be quick! be quick!" Half doubting, half afraid, Inda opened the great body, and helped Kanalka out. He staggered and fell helplessly to the ground. Pilla and Inda did not trouble about him. One after another, they took from Kuperee ten black hunters, laying them in a row upon the grass. Last of all they took out Kon-garn and three others of their own tribe, and they wailed over them. Kanalka, who had somewhat recovered, came and looked curiously at the row of men. "Would you not say that they were alive?" he asked. "They do not look as though they were anything but asleep." "I think it is Magic," said Inda, very much afraid. "Two moons have gone by since Kon-garn, who lies there, was eaten, and yet he looks as though asleep. Kuperee was a strange host, truly, to keep you all in such good condition!" The gaze of Kanalka wandered to the stone axe of Burkamukk, which lay on the grass near Kuperee. Instantly he became interested. He had seen many dead men, but no such axe as this had come his way. "Is that the mighty axe of which all the tribes have heard?" he asked eagerly. "Ky! what a beauty! Never have I seen such a one! I should like to handle it." He picked it up and tested its weight, while Pilla and Inda watched him carefully, for they knew that the axe was a treasure beyond anything in the Bush, and that a man would risk almost anything to possess it. They need not, however, have feared Kanalka. He was a simple-minded fellow, and was merely lost in admiration. "A beauty, indeed!" he exclaimed. "It will be something to tell my people, that in the one day I escaped from the body of Kuperee and handled the stone axe of Burkamukk! Was it with this that you killed the monster?" "Ay," said Inda. "It clove his skull—one blow was enough, though our spears had fallen blunted from his hide." "A marvel, indeed!" cried Kanalka. "It would be a mighty weapon at close quarters in a fight. One would swing it round—thus—and bring it down upon the enemy's head——" He illustrated his meaning, swinging the axe aloft and bringing it down over the head of the silent form of Kon-garn. Just before it reached the head he checked it, letting it do no more than touch Kon-garn—a touch no heavier than the sweep of a butterfly's wing. Kon-garn yawned, sneezed, and sat up. With a yell of terror the three blacks started backwards, tripped over each other, and fell in a heap. Kon-garn surveyed the struggling mass calmly. "Where am I?" he asked. "And what is all this about? Is it you, Pilla and Inda?" They struggled to their feet and looked at him distrustfully. "You are dead," said Pilla firmly. "Why do you talk?" "I do not know why, indeed, since it is evident that I am talking to fools," said Kon-garn rudely. "What has happened to you, that you and this stranger have suddenly gone mad? Ky! how hungry I am! Have you food?" The brothers suddenly began to laugh helplessly. "Food!" said Inda. "There is more food than ever you saw before, Kon-garn, and a few minutes ago you were part of it." "That is a riddle I am too tired to guess," said Kon-garn crossly. "I only wish that any food were part of me, for I feel as though I had never eaten in my life." "It is certainly two moons at least since last you ate," Pilla told him. "I said already that you were mad, and I grow more sure of it every minute," said poor Kon-garn. "Who are these who lie beside me?" "They are dead men; and a moment ago you too were dead," Inda said. Kon-garn became afraid, as well as cross. It was clear that everybody was mad, and he had heard that it was wise to humour mad people, or they might do you an injury. So he hid his feelings and looked at the brothers as kindly as his bewilderment and hunger would let him. "Dead, was I?" he said. "Then how did I come to life?" "This man touched you with the stone axe of Burkamukk," Inda answered. "Dear me, how simple!" said Kon-garn. "None of our Meki-gar know anything half so easy. But why does he not go on, and bring all these other dead men to life too?" "Indeed," said Kanalka suddenly, "I do not know." He flung himself upon the stone axe, which he had let fall in his terror, and touched another still form with it. Instantly the black hunter came to life. Kanalka uttered a wild yell of amazement and triumph. Then Inda snatched the axe from him and ran along the line, touching one man after another; and when he had come to the end there were ten blackfellows sitting up and rubbing their eyes, and most of them were asking eagerly for food. The brothers drew back a few paces and looked at them. "It is clear," said Pilla, "that Kuperee was Magic, and that when our father's stone axe entered his skull it became Magic too. More than ever we must guard it carefully, since it seems to have the power of life and death." He lowered his voice, speaking to Inda. "I will lash it to your shoulders, brother—we are among strangers, and it will be safer so." He lashed the axe to Inda's shoulders firmly, and the other men looked on. Each knew exactly why he was doing it,...