The Stone Axe of Burkamukk

by Mary Grant Bruce

Next day he went to the Kar-ak-ar-ook's wurley, and met them going out to dig for yams. Their dilly-bags were on their shoulders; and they held their yam-sticks, and he could see Fire gleaming in the hollow tops. Waung looked at the digging ends of the sticks, and saw that they were very blunt. He said: "I will sharpen your yam-sticks for you."

The Kar-ak-ar-ook thanked him, with a twinkle in their eyes. They knew there was some reason for such politeness from Waung. So they held the yam-sticks for him to cut, and though once or twice he tried to make them fall, as if by accident, so long as they had even a finger upon them they did not move. So Waung realized that Fire was not to be obtained in that way. When he had finished the points, he stood up.

"I am sick of the tribe," he said, angrily. "They are silly people, and they turn me into a joke. If you like, I will come out and help you to get food—and, I can tell you, I know where to hunt. Will you hunt with me?"

Now the Kar-ak-ar-ook were suspicious of Waung, but they were lazy women. It did not amuse them at all to go hunting by themselves every day, for they were not clever at it, and it took them a long time to find enough game to cook. Moreover, they were fond of food, and never had enough. They knew that no one could take away their yam-sticks so long as they held them; and so they were not afraid of Waung.

"Perhaps what you say is true," one answered slowly. "At any rate, I do not care. You may come with me if you wish, and sometimes we will give you some cooked food."

So the camp got used to the sight of Waung and the women going out to hunt together; and after a while they forgot that they used to laugh at them, and they had to find another joke. They envied Waung very much if they saw him eating scraps of cooked meat given him by the women: and you may be sure that Waung did not give any scraps away. He became quite good friends with the women, though they were always suspicious of him, and gave him no chance of handling their yam-sticks. The fire in the hollow tops never went out. Waung could not guess how they managed to keep it alive there, and it puzzled him very much. But he never forgot that he had vowed to take it from them, and he made many plans that came to nothing, because the Kar-ak-ar-ook were always watchful.

At last Waung hit upon an idea. Out in the scrub he found a nest of young snakes, and these he managed to tame, for he was a very cunning man. Even when they were nearly full-grown they would do his bidding, and he taught them many queer tricks. Then he went in search of an ant-hill, and sought until he found a very large one. For the Kar-ak-ar-ook had told him that they loved ants' eggs more than any kind of food.

One night, Waung took his snakes, and buried them in the ant-hill, saying, "Stay there until I send to let you out." They looked at him with their fierce, beady eyes, and wriggled round until they made themselves nests in the soft earth, which caused the ants very great inconvenience and alarm. Then Waung covered them up and went home, taking the Kar-ak-ar-ook a little kangaroo-rat that he had killed.

The women were hungry, and the sight of Waung's offering did not please them.

"It is very small," they said, discontentedly. "What is the matter with you? You have brought us scarcely any food for three days."