Deegenboyah raised his head and looked again wildly round, and there, on their homeward path, he saw his dead wives. Then he called aloud, "Here Mullyangah are your emus; take them and spare me. I shall steal no more, for I myself want little, but my children and my wives hungered. I but stole for them. Spare me, I pray you. I am old; I shall not live long. Spare me."
"Not so," said Mullyangah, "no man lives to steal twice from a Mullyan;" and, so saying, he speared Deegeenboyah where he stood. Then he lifted up the emus, and, carrying them with him, went swiftly back to his camp.
And merry was the supper that night when the Mullyans ate the emus, and Mullyangah told the story of his search and slaughter. And proud were the Mullyans of the prowess and cunning of their chief.
29. MAYRAH, THE WIND THAT BLOWS THE WINTER AWAY
At the beginning of winter, the iguanas hide themselves in their homes in the sand; the black eagle hawks go into their nests; the garbarlee or shingle-backs hide themselves in little logs, just big enough to hold them; the iguanas dig a long way into the sand and cover up the passage behind them, as they go along. They all stay in their winter homes until Mayrah blows the winter away. Mayrah first blows up a thunderstorm. When the iguanas hear the thunder, they know the spring is not far off, so they begin making a passage to go out again, but they do not leave their winter home until the Curreequinquin, or butcher birds sing all day almost without ceasing "Goore, goore, goore, goore." Then they know that Mayrah has really blown the winter away, for the birds are beginning to pair and build their nests. So they open their eyes and come out on the green earth again. And when the black fellows hear the curreequinquins singing "Goore, goore," they know that they can go out and find iguanas again, and find them fatter than when they went away with the coming of winter. Then, too, will they find piggiebillahs hurrying along to get away from their young ones, which they have buried in the sand and left to shift for themselves, for no longer can they carry them, as the spines of the young ones begin to prick them in their pouch. So they leave them and hurry away, that they may not hear their cry. They know they shall meet them again later on, when they are grown big. Then as Mayrah softly blows, the flowers one by one open, and the bees come out again to gather honey. Every bird wears his gayest plumage and sings his sweetest song to attract a mate, and in pairs they go to build their nests. And still Mayrah softly blows until the land is one of plenty; then Yhi the sun chases her back whence she came, and the flowers droop and the birds sing only in the early morning. For Yhi rules in the land until the storms are over and have cooled him, and winter takes his place to be blown away again by Mayrah the loved of all, and the bringer of plenty.
30. WAYAMBEH THE TURTLE
Oolah, the lizard, was out getting yams on a Mirrieh flat. She had three of her children with her. Suddenly she thought she heard some one moving behind the big Mirrieh bushes. She listened. All of a sudden out jumped Wayambeh from behind a bush and seized Oolah, telling her not to make a noise and he would not hurt her, but that he meant to take her off to his camp to be his wife. He would take her three children too and look after them. Resistance was useless, for Oolah had only her yam stick, while Wayambeh had his spears and boondees. Wayambeh took the woman and her children to his camp. His tribe when they saw him bring home a woman of the Oolah tribe, asked him if her tribe had given her to him. He said, "No, I have stolen her."
"Well," they said, "her tribe will soon be after her; you must protect yourself; we shall not fight for you. You had no right to steal her without telling us. We had a young woman of our own tribe for you, yet you go and steal an Oolah and bring her to the camp of the Wayambeh. On your own head be the consequences."