“We would rather be making a basket; our help is among ourselves,” answered they.
Ur and Arthur went at the basket and Lawn Dyarrig at twisting the gads. When Lawn Dyarrig came to the opening with the gads, all twisted and made into one, they hadn’t the ribs of the basket in the ground yet.
“Oh, then, haven’t ye anything done but that?”
“Stop your mouth,” said Ur, “or we’ll make a mortar of your head on the next stone.”
“To be kind to one another is the best for us,” said Lawn Dyarrig. “I’ll make the basket.”
While they’d be putting one rod in the basket he had the basket finished.
“Oh, brother,” said they, “you are a quick workman.”
They had not called him brother since they left home till that moment.
“Who will go in the basket now?” asked Lawn Dyarrig, when it was finished, and the gad tied to it.
“Who but me?” said Ur. “I am sure, brothers, if I see anything to frighten me ye’ll draw me up.”