Perhaps the old legend of Goolahwilleel was originally told with a moral, and that may be: why black artists are so well treated now.
A maker of new songs or corroborees is always kept well supplied with the luxuries of life; it may be that such an one is a little feared as being supposed to have direct communication with the spirits who teach him his art. A fine frenzy is said to seize some of their poets and playwrights, who, for the time being, are quite under the domination of the spirits—possessed of devils, in fact. When the period of mental incubation is over and the song hatched out, the possessed ones return to their normal condition, the devils are cast out, and the songs are all that remain in evidence that the artist was ever possessed.
Some songs do not require this process of fine frenzy they come along in the course of barter, handed from tribe to tribe.
Ghiribul, or riddles, play a great part in their social life, and he who knows many is much sought after.
Most of these ghiribul are not translatable, being little songs describing the things to be guessed, whose peculiarities the singer acts as he sings—a sort of one-man show, pantomime in miniature, with a riddle running through it.
Some which I will give indicate the nature of others.
What is it that says to the flood-water, 'I am too strong for you; you can not push me back'? Ans. Goodoo, the codfish.
What is it that says, 'You cannot help yourself; you will have to go and let me take your place; you cannot stay when I come'? Ans. The grey hairs in a man's beard to the black ones.
'If a man hide himself so that his wife could not see him, and he wanted her to know where he was, yet had promised not to speak, laugh, cry, sneeze, cough, nor move his hands nor feet, how could he do so?' Ans. Whistle.
'The strongest man cannot stand against me. I can
