Then, as the wirreenuns paused, the wailing was loud again until they began once more the dirge:
"We shall spear Bohrah on the moorillas,
And Dinewan shall fall when we throw,
But Eerin will hunt with us no longer,
Never again will Eerin eat of our hunting.
Hunt shall we often, and oft shall we find;
But the widow of Eerin will kindle no fires for his coming,"
Loud again was the wailing, then on went the voice of the wirreenun:
"Never again shall the voice of the light sleeper
Cry 'Mil; Mil, Mil,' as an enemy nears us.
Cracked will our skulls be and speared our bodies.
Eerin can warn us no more with his cry,
Only his spirit can come to us ever, an offering let us now pour to it."
Then with loud wailing, seizing stone knives and comeboos, the mourners cut themselves, letting their blood drop into the grave. Never before" was there such a blood offering. Then the earth was thrown quickly into the grave, while some of the mourners corroboreed round it, crooning a dirge.
When the earth was filled in, all stood in a dense smoke that the wirreenuns had made of Budta twigs, which was to keep them free from the unseen spirits known to be hovering round.
When the grave was filled in back to their new camp went the women, for the old one was now gummarl, a place of death, with a marked tree showing it was taboo.
No children, or women with children who could not walk, were allowed to go to the funeral.
After the women left, all the men stood round the grave,
