just in the line which a creeping plant takes. Koob-borr laughed as he laughed at the others, until they had ascended to a great height, and then he took water and let it fall, but the men were no longer in the same place, but higher up, and it did not fall on them. Koob-borr ran and got more water, and poured it where he had last seen the men, but again it did not touch them; and finally Ta-jerr and Tarrn-nin reached the high boughs. Koob-borr now began to cry, but they heeded not his cries. They seized him and beat him until all his bones were quite soft. They then threw him down, and other blacks beat and tried to kill him. He did not die. He became in form and appearance what he is now, and he ran up another tree. Ta-jerr and Tarrn-nin cut down the big tree in which the tarnuks and all the water were; and the water came out of the tree, and flowed into the creek (Kala-derra),[1] and there has been ever since plenty of water.
From this time Koob-borr became food for the people; but it is a law amongst the people that they must not break his bones when they kill him, neither take off his skin before they roast him. If the law were broken, Koob-borr would again become powerful, and he would dry up the waters of the creeks.
Koob-borr keeps always near the banks of the creeks, and near water-holes, so that if the law be broken he may at once carry away the water. No one has roasted Koob-borr without his skin or broken his bones in killing him since the law was made.
When any one ascends a tree in which Koob-borr is sitting, he cries always in the same manner as he cried when Ta-jerr and Tarrn-nin climbed the tree and threw him down.[2]
Mirram and Warreen.
Mirram (the Kangaroo) and Warreen (the Wombat) were once men, and they dwelt in the same place; but Warreen had a good camp (willum) made of bark, but Mirram had none. Mirram lived day and night in the open air. This was very good for Mirram when the weather was fine, and very good for Warreen, too, who often slept in the open air with Mirram. They were very good friends. At length a great rain fell.[3] Warreen went to his willum,
- ↑ A creek not always running—a creek that is dry in the summer—is called Koorr-nong.
- ↑ The native bear moans and growls when any one molests him in his leafy retreats. I have often observed his habits in the forest. He is always found near water. At the present day the Aborigines carefully conform to the law as laid down by their forefathers. They will not skin a bear or break its bones until it is roasted. In what way the native bear comes to be connected with droughts it is impossible to say.
- ↑ How rain first came to fall is thus told by H. E. A. Meyer (Encounter Bay tribe):—"Near the Goolwa lived an old man named Kortuwe, with his two friends, Munkari and Waingilbe. The latter, who were considerably younger than Kortuwe, went out fishing, and as they caught Kuratje and Kanmari, they put the Kuratje, which is not so good as the Kanmari, aside for Kortuwe. The old man, perceiving this, commenced a song—Annaitjeranangk rotjer tampatjeranangk (in the Encounter Bay dialect it would be Ngannangk Kuratje tampin)—"For me they put aside the Kuratje," upon which rain began to fall. Kortuwe then went into his hut, and closed it with bushes, and Munkari and Waingilbe were obliged to remain outside, and they got wet as a punishment. The three wore transformed into birds, and as often as Kortuwe makes a noise it is a sign that rain will follow.
