According to immemorial precedence the visiting tribe "took the flure" first, and gave a most interesting and picturesque display. The subject of the corrobberie was an emu hunt, and was full of startling incident, presenting ludicrous aspects that created roars of laughter. The descriptive song was chanted in perfect time: a sort of runic lay, beginning in a low and monotonous key and gradually waxing louder as the chase progressed, finally ending crescendo in a cry of victory, what time the animal is overcome and slain.
The spectators, black and white, applauded most generously, our old friends Jacky and Willy being among the loudest. The station boys were in no ways different from their brothers in get up. For the moment they had abandoned the role of station hands for that of barbaric magnificoes.
The whites, especially the girls and Neville, who witnessed the spectacle for the first time, were delighted beyond measure. The silence following the huntsman's song was of short duration. The story-teller of the visiting tribe now advanced within the circle of light, and in sing-song tones recited one of their folklore stories.
THE COCKATOO'S NEST.[#]
[#] Tom Petrie's Reminiscences.
Once upon a time there lived happily together on an island three young aborigines, a brother and two sisters. This land was not very far from the mainland, and the three often used to gaze across at the long stretch of land, and think of journeying forth from their island home to see what it was like over there. They felt sure they would find lots of things to eat. So one day by means of a canoe they really did cross over, and began without loss of time to seek for 'possums, native bears, and so forth. In this search round about they at length espied a hollow limb, which looked uncommonly like a place where a nest would be, and so, going into a scrub near by, they cut a vine for climbing up. Up went the youth, while his sisters waited beneath. When he had cut open the limb, he found to his great joy a cockatoo's nest with young birds in it, and these latter he proceeded to throw down one by one to his sisters, the fall to the ground killing the poor things.
Now it so chanced that as the young fellow picked up the last little bird from the nest, a feather detached itself from its tail, and floating away on the air, at length settled fair on the chest of an old man asleep in a hut some distance away. This old man was really a ghost who owned the place, and the feather disturbed his rest and woke him up. Divining at once what was happening, he arose, and getting hold of a spear and a tomahawk, sallied forth to the tree, where he arrived before the young fellow had started to climb down. Seeing the birds dead, the old man was very angry, and said, "What business you take my birds? Who told you to come here?" He then commanded the tree to spread out and grow taller and taller, so that the young fellow could not get down, and, taking the dead birds, he put them in a big round dilly, and carried them to his hut.
Although the old man did not wait, the tree did his bidding, becoming immediately very wide and tall, and the young fellow tried his best to come down, but could not. So at last he started to sing to the other trees all around to come to him, which they did; and one falling right across where he stood, he was able to get to the ground that way. Somehow, though, in coming down he got hurt, and the gins had to make a fire to get hot ashes in order to cover him up there. He lay covered up so for half an hour, at the end of which time he was all right again.
Of course these three felt very indignant at the old man's behaviour, and they thirsted for revenge. So, calling all the birds of the air to them, they sought their assistance. These birds went in front, while the three cut their way through the thick scrub to the old man's hut; and ever as they went, to drown the noise of the cutting, the birds sang loudly, the wonga pigeon making a tremendous row with his waugh! waugh! waugh! When they had got nearly to the hut, the old man, who had been trying to make up for his disturbed sleep, heard the noise of the birds, and called crossly to them, "Here, what do you make such a noise for? I want to sleep!" But even as he spoke he was dozing, and presently went right off, suspecting nothing; and when the three reached the doorway, looking in, they saw him quite soundly sleeping. So the three clutched their weapons tightly,—the man his spear, and the women their yam sticks,—and advancing into the hut, they all viciously jobbed down at the old man, and lo! he was dead. His body was dragged forth and burned, and after the hut was robbed of the young cockatoos and all objects worthy of value it also was burned, and the three found their way back to the canoe, and departed home to their island laden with the spoil.
At the conclusion of the "yarn" the Bullarois retired to the trees fringing the clearing on the side directly opposite the audience. After a short harangue from Merri-dia-o, the braves, about twenty in number, fully armed and in their war-paint, issued from the forest, headed by their chief, shouting their battle-cry, gesticulating wildly, and making a great clatter with their weapons. Advancing upon the foe, now in line and now in sections, they battled with the enemy, crouching one moment behind their shields to receive the shower of imaginary spears thrown by their assailants, the next springing erect and casting, as it were, their weapons of offence. Following up this round, they bore upon the visionary foe and engaged in personal encounter. Retreating one moment and advancing the following, uttering war cries and fierce challenge, hurling coarse and stinging epithet, they gradually approached the fire; the gins meanwhile beat time, giving coherence and harmony to the bellicose proceedings.