Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: Cover art]
[Frontispiece: "'No small beast did that,' he said. 'You are lucky to
be alive, Tullum.'" (Page 15.)]
THE STONE AXE OF
BURKAMUKK
BY
MARY GRANT BRUCE
ILLUSTRATED BY J. MACFARLANE
WARD, LOCK & CO., LTD.
LONDON AND MELBOURNE
1922
FOREWORD
Year by year the old black tribes are dying out, and many of their
legends and beliefs are dying with them. These legends deal with the
world as the blacks knew it; with the Bush animals and birds; the
powers of storm, flood, fire, thunder, and magic, and the beings who
they thought controlled these powers; with the sun, moon and stars; and
with the life and death of men and women.
Many of the old tales are savage enough, but through them runs a thread
of feeling for the nobler side of life, so far as these wild people
could grasp it. The spirit of self-sacrifice is seen in them, and
greed, selfishness and cruelty are often punished as they deserve. We
are apt to look on the blacks as utter barbarians, but, as we read
their own old stories, we see that they were boys and girls, men and
women, not so unlike us in many ways, and that they could admire what
we admire in each other, and condemn what we would condemn. The
folk-tales of a people are the story of its soul, and it would be a
pity if the native races of our country were to vanish altogether
before we had collected enough of their legends to let their successors
know what manner of people lived in Australia for thousands of years
before the white man came. Some valuable collections have indeed been
made, but they are all too few; and there must even to-day be many
people, especially in the wilder parts of Australia, who are in touch
with the aborigines, and could, if they would, get the old men and
women to tell them the stories which were handed down to them when they
were children.
In the hope of persuading all young Australians who have the
opportunity to collect and preserve what they can of the ancient life
and legends of Australia, I have put into modern English a few of the
tales which may still be had from some old blackfellow or gin.
M.G.B.
CONTENTS
I The Stone Axe of Burkamukk
II Waung, the Crow
III The Emu who would Dance
IV Booran, the Pelican
V The Story of the Stars
VI How Light Came
VII The Frog that Laughed
VIII The Maiden who found the Moon
IX Mirran and Warreen
X The Daughters of Wonkawala
XI The Burning of the Crows
XII Kur-bo-roo, the Bear
XIII Wurip, the Fire-Bringer
I
THE STONE AXE OF BURKAMUKK
CHAPTER I
The camp lay calm and peaceful under the spring sunlight. Burkamukk,
the chief, had chosen its place well: the wurleys were built in a green
glade well shaded with blackwood and boobyalla trees, and with a soft
thick carpet of grass, on which the black babies loved to roll. Not a
hundred yards away flowed a wide creek; a creek so excellent that it
fed a swamp a little farther on. The blacks loved to be near a swamp,
for it was as good as a storehouse of food: the women used to go there
for lily-pads and sedge-roots, and the men would spear eels in its
muddy waters, while at times big flocks of duck settled on it, besides
other water-fowl. Burkamukk was a very wise chief, and all his people
were fat, and therefore contented.
As blacks count wealth, the people of Burkamukk were very well off.
They had plenty of skin rugs, so that no one went cold, even in the
winter nights; and the women had made them well, sewing them together
with the sinews of animals, using for their needles the small bone of a
kangaroo's hind-leg, ground to a fine point. It was hard work to sew
these well, but the men used to take pains to get good skins, pegging
them out with tea-tree spikes and dressing them with wood-ashes and
fat, which they rubbed in until the skins were soft and supple; and so
the women thought that the least they could do was to sew them in the
very best way. Being particular about the rugs made the women
particular about other things as well, and they had a far better outfit
than could be found in most camps. Each woman had a good pitchi, a
small wooden trough hollowed out of the soft wood of the bean-tree, in
which food was kept. When the tribe went travelling the pitchi was as
useful as a suit-case is to a white Australian girl; the lubras packed
them with food, and carried them balanced on their heads, or slung to
one hip by a plait of human hair, or a fur band; and sometimes a big
pitchi was made by a proud father and beautifully carved with a stone
knife, and used as a cradle for a fat black baby. Then the women used
to weave baskets made of a strong kind of rush, ornamented with
coloured patterns and fancy stitches, and each one had, as well, a bag
made of the tough inner bark of the acacia tree, or sometimes of a
messmate or stringy bark, in which she kept food, sticks and tinder for
starting a fire, wattle-gum for cement, shells, tools, and all sorts of
charms to keep off evil spirits. They had a queer kind of cooking-pot,
in which they used to dissolve gum and manna. These pots were made out
of the big rough lumps that grow out of old gum-trees, hollowed out by
a chisel made of a kangaroo's thighbone. The women used to put gum and
manna in these and place them near the fire, so that the water
gradually heated without burning the wood. There was no pottery among
the blacks, and so they could never boil food, but they contrived to
make pleasant warm drinks in these wooden pots.
When it came to baking, however, the women of the tribe were well able
to turn out toothsome roasts. Their ovens were holes in the ground,
plastered with mud, and then filled with fire until the clay was very
hot. When the temperature was right the embers were taken out, and the
holes lined with wet grass. The food--flesh, fish, or roots--was
packed in rough rush baskets and placed in the ovens, and covered with
more wet grass, hot stones, gravel, and earth, until the holes were
quite air-tight. The women liked to do this in the evening, so that
the food cooked slowly all night; and often all the cooking was done in
a few big ovens, and next morning each family came to remove its basket
of food. And if you had come along breakfastless just as the steaming
baskets were taken out, and had been asked to join in eating a plump
young bandicoot or wallaby or a fat black fish--well, even though there
were no plates or knives or forks, I do not think you would have
grumbled at your meal.
The men of Burkamukk's tribe were well armed. Their boomerangs, spears
and throwing-sticks were all of the best, and they had, in addition,
knives made of splinters of flint or sharpened mussel-shell, lashed
into handles. Some had skinning knives made of the long front teeth of
the bandicoot, with the jaw left on for a handle; and they worked
kangaroo bones into all kinds of tools. But Burkamukk himself had a
wonderful weapon, the only one in all that district--a mighty axe. It
was made of green stone, wedge-shaped, and sharply ground at one edge.
This was grasped in the bend of a doubled piece of split sapling, and
tightly bound round with kangaroo sinews; and the handle thus formed
was additionally strengthened by being cemented to the head by a
mixture of gum and shell lime. It was not a very easy matter to make
that cement. First, mussel shells were burned to make the lime, and
pounded in a hollow stone. Then wattle-gum was chewed for a long time
and placed between sheets of green bark, which were laid in a shallow
hole in the ground and covered with hot ashes until the gum was
dissolved, when it was kneaded with the lime into a tough paste. The
blacks would have been badly off without that cement, but not all of
them would go to the trouble of making it as thoroughly as did the men
of Burkamukk's tribe. All the best workmanship had gone to the
manufacture of Burkamukk's axe, and the whole tribe was proud of it.
Sometimes the chief would lend it to the best climbers among his young
men, who used it to cut steps in the bark of trees when they wanted to
climb in search of monkey-bears or 'possums; or he would let them use
it to strip sheets of bark from the trees, to make their wurleys.
Those to whom the axe was lent always showed their sense of the honour
done them by making payment in kind--the fattest of the game caught, or
a finely-woven rush mat, would be laid at the chief's door. If this
had not been done Burkamukk would probably have looked wise next time
some one had wished to borrow his axe, and would have remarked that he
had work for it himself.
Even though he occasionally lent the axe, Burkamukk never let it go out
of his sight. It was far too precious a possession for that. He, too,
went hunting when the axe went, or watched it used to prise great
strips of thick bark off the trees, and he probably worried the
borrower very much by continually directing how it should be handled.
Not that the young men would have taken any risks with it. It was the
chief's axe, but its possession brought dignity upon the whole tribe.
Other chiefs had axes, more or less excellent, but there was no weapon
in all the countryside so famous as the axe of Burkamukk. I doubt
whether the Kings of England have valued their Crown Jewels so highly
as Burkamukk valued his stone treasure with the sapling handle.
Certainly they cannot have found them half so useful.
On this spring afternoon Burkamukk was coming up from the swamp where
he had been spearing eels. He had been very successful: Koronn, his
wife, walked behind him carrying a dozen fine specimens, and thinking
how good a supper she would be able to cook, and how delighted her
little boy Tumbo would be; for of all things Tumbo loved to eat eel.
Just at the edge of the camp Burkamukk stopped, frowning.
A hunting-party of young men had evidently just returned; they were the
centre of a group in the middle of the camp, and still they were
carrying their spears and throwing-sticks. They were talking loudly
and gesticulating, and it was clear that those who listened to them
were excited and distressed; there were anxious faces and the women
were crying "Yakai!" (Alas!). The chief strode up to the group.
"What is the matter?" he asked.
The men turned, saluting him respectfully.
"We have fallen upon evil times, Chief," their leader answered.
"Little game have we caught, and we have lost Kon-garn."
"Lost him! How?"
"There is a great and terrible beast in the country to which we went,"
answered Tullum, the young warrior. "The men of the friendly tribe we
passed told us of him, but we thought they were joking with us, for it
seemed a foolish tale, only fit to make women afraid. They told us of
a great kangaroo they call Kuperee, larger than a dozen kangaroos and
fiercer than any animal that walks on the earth; and they warned us not
to go near his country."
"A kangaroo as large as a dozen!" said Burkamukk. "Ky! but I would
like to see such a beast The whole tribe could feed on him."
"Ay, they might, if one had the luck to be able to kill him," said
Tullum sorrowfully. "But a kangaroo of that size is no joke to
encounter."
"What!" said Burkamukk. "Do you mean me to believe that there is truly
such a kangaroo?"
"There is indeed," Tullum answered. "We also did not believe. We went
on, thinking that the other tribe merely wished to keep us away from a
good hunting-ground. We took no precautions, and we came upon him
suddenly."
"And he was a big kangaroo, do you say?"
Tullum flung out his hands.
"There are no words to tell you of his bigness, O, Chief!" he said--and
his voice shook with terror. "Never has such an animal been seen
before. Black is he, and huge, and fierce; and when he saw us he
roared and rushed upon us. There was no time to do battle: he was on
us almost before one could fling a spear. Kon-garn was nearest, and he
went down with one blow of the monster's foot, his head crushed. Me he
struck at, but luckily for me I was almost out of his reach. Still, he
touched me--see!" He moved aside his 'possum-skins, and showed long
wounds, running from his shoulder to his wrist--wounds that looked as
though they had been made by great claws.
Burkamukk looked at them closely.
"No small beast did that," he said. "You are lucky to be alive,
Tullum."
"Ay," said Tullum briefly. "Indeed, I thought for a while that I was
as dead as Kon-garn. But I managed to dodge behind a tree, and the
bush was thick, so that by great good fortune I got away. Kuperee gave
chase, but we all scattered, and luckily the one he chose to follow was
Woma, who is the swiftest of us all; and Woma gave him the slip without
much trouble, for Kuperee is so great that he cannot get through the
trees quickly. So we came together again after a day and a night, and
travelled home swiftly."
"And none of you went back to avenge Kon-garn?" the chief asked,
sternly.
Tullum looked at him with a curious mixture of shame and defiance.
"Nay," he said. "None of us have ever been reckoned cowards--and yet
we did not go back. An ordinary enemy would not have made us afraid,
but there is something about Kuperee that turns the very heart to
water. We hated ourselves--we hate ourselves still--for not going
back. The blood of Kon-garn cries out to us for vengeance on his
slayer, and in our sleep we see our comrade, with his head crushed by
that terrible foot. And yet we could not turn. We have come home to
you like frightened children, and shame is on our heads. We know not
how to face Kon-garn's wife, who sits there and cries 'Yakai!' before
her wurley."
Another of the warriors, Woma the Swift-footed, spoke up, with sullen
anger in his voice.
"We are shamed," he said, "but there is Magic in it. No true animal is
Kuperee, but an evil spirit. No man could possibly stand before him."
To put anything they could not understand down to the score of Magic
and evil spirits was the usual custom of the blacks; but this time it
seemed more than usually likely to be true. The Meki-gar, or
medicine-men, nodded wisely, and the women all shuddered and wailed
afresh, while the men looked anxious and afraid. Burkamukk thought for
a moment before replying. He was a very wise chief, and while he was
just as afraid of Magic as any other blackfellow, still he had the
safety of his tribe to consider.
"That is all very well," he said, at length. "Very likely it is true.
But it may not be true after all: Kuperee may be no more than a very
wonderful kangaroo who has managed to grow to an enormous size. If
that is so, he will want much food, and gradually he will hunt farther
and farther, all over the country, until at last he will come here.
Then we shall all suffer."
"Ay," said the men. "That is true. But what can we do?"
"I will not sit down quietly until I know for certain that Kuperee is
Magic," said Burkamukk, striking the ground with the butt of his
eel-spear. "If indeed he be Magic, then it will be the part of the
Meki-gar to deal with him. But first I would have my young men prove
whether they cannot avenge Kon-garn. It is in my mind that this
Kuperee is no more than a huge animal; and I want his blood. Who will
shed it for me?"
There was no lack of brave warriors among the men of Burkamukk. A
shout went up from them, and immediately forty or fifty sprang before
him, waking all the Bush echoes with their yells of defiance against
Kuperee or any other giant animal, whether kangaroo or anything else.
Only Tullum and the hunters who had been with him hung back; and they
were unnoticed in the general excitement.
"Ye are too many," Burkamukk said, surveying them proudly. "Ten such
men should be a match for any kangaroo." He ran his eye over them
rapidly and counted out half a score by name. Then he bade the other
volunteers fall back, so that the chosen warriors were left standing
alone.
"It is well," he said. "Namba shall be your leader, and you will obey
him in all things. Find out from Tullum where to look for this
Kuperee, and see that you go warily, and that your weapons are always
ready. Go; seek Kuperee, and ere seven sleeps have gone, bring me his
tail to eat!" He stalked towards his wurley. The young men, shouting
yells of battle, rushed for their weapons. In ten minutes they had
gone, running swiftly over the plain, and the camp was quiet again,
save for the cries of Kon-garn's wife as she mourned for her husband.
But alas! within a few days the wife of Kon-garn was not the only woman
to bewail her dead. In less than a week the hunting-party was back,
and without three of its bravest warriors. The survivors told the same
story as Tullum and his men. They had found Kuperee, this time roaming
through the Bush in search of food; and he had uttered a roar and
rushed upon them. They had fought, they said, but unavailingly: spears
and throwing-sticks seemed to fall back blunted from the monster's
hide, and two of the men had been seized and devoured, while the third,
Namba, who rushed wildly in, frantically endeavouring to save them, had
been crushed to earth with one sweeping blow. Then terror,
overwhelming and unconquerable, had fallen on the seven men who
remained, and they had fled, never stopping until they were far away.
Weaponless and ashamed, they crept back to the camp with their
miserable story.
Burkamukk heard them in silence. Other chiefs might have been angry,
and inflicted fierce punishments, but he knew that to such men there
could be no heavier penalty than to return beaten and afraid. He
nodded, when they had finished.
"Then it would surely seem that Kuperee is Magic," he said. "Therefore
no man can deal with him, save only the medicine-men. Go to your
wurleys and rest."
The Meki-gar were not at all anxious for the task of ridding the earth
of Kuperee, but since their art, like that of all medicine-men,
consisted in saying as little as possible, they dared not show their
disinclination. Instead, they accepted Burkamukk's instructions in
owl-like silence, making themselves look as wise as possible, and
nodding as though giant kangaroos came their way--and were swept out of
it--every day in the week. Then they withdrew to a lonely place
outside their camp and began their spells. They lit tiny fires and
burned scraps of kangaroo-hide, throwing the ashes in the air and
uttering terrible curses against Kuperee. Also they secretly weaved
many magic spells, sitting by their little fires and keeping a sharp
look-out lest any of the tribe should see what they were doing--an
unnecessary precaution, since the tribe was far too terrified of Magic
to go anywhere near them. When they had been at work for what they
considered a sufficient length of time, they packed up all their charms
in skin bags, and returned to the camp, where they told Burkamukk that
Kuperee was probably dead, as a result of their incantations. "But if
he is not," said their head man, "then it is because we have nothing
belonging to Kuperee himself to make spells with. If we had so much of
a hair of his tail, or even one of the bones that he has gnawed, then
we could make such a spell that nothing in the world could stand
against it. As it is, we have done wonderful things, and he is very
likely dead. Certainly no other Meki-gar could have done as much."
Burkamukk thanked the Meki-gar very respectfully. He did not
understand their Magic at all, and he was badly afraid of all Magic;
still, he knew that the Meki-gar did not always succeed in their
undertakings, and he felt that though their spells were, no doubt,
strong, there was quite a chance that Kuperee was stronger. He would
have felt much happier had the Meki-gar been able to prove that the
enemy was dead. "If I could give them a hair of his tail," thought he,
"there would be no need for spells, since Kuperee will certainly be
dead before he allows anyone to meddle with his tail." It was with
some bitterness that he dismissed the wise men, giving them a present
of roasted wallaby.
It was not long before proof came that the Magic of the Meki-gar had
been at fault. Burkamukk's young men, out hunting, met a hunting-party
of a friendly tribe, from whom they learned that the great kangaroo was
fiercer and more powerful than ever, and had slain many men in the
country to the north. As Burkamukk had foreseen, he was ranging
farther and farther afield, so that no district could feel safe from
him. It could be only a question of time before Kuperee would wander
down to his country.
Burkamukk held a council of war that night, at which all the warriors
and the Meki-gar were present. The chief wanted to lead his best men
against the monster, but the Meki-gar opposed the suggestion
vigorously, saying that it was not right for the head of the tribe to
run into a danger such as this. An ordinary battle was all very well,
but this was Magic, and against it chiefs were just as ordinary men:
and where would the tribe be without its mighty head? The warriors
supported the Meki-gar, and they all argued about it until Burkamukk
was ready to lose his temper. He had no wish to see his best hunters
grow fewer and fewer--already two expeditions had ended in disaster and
loss. The discussion was becoming an angry one when suddenly the
chief's two eldest sons, Inda and Pilla, rose and spoke. They were
young men, but already they were renowned hunters, famous at tracking
and killing game: and besides their skill with weapons, it was said
that they had learned from the Meki-gar much wisdom beyond the
knowledge of ordinary men. Straight and tall as young rushes, they
faced their father.
"Let us go," Inda said--"Pilla and I. Numbers are useless against
Kuperee; it is only cunning that will slay him, and for that two men
are better than a score. Give us a trial, and if we fail, then will be
time enough to talk of a great expedition."
The chief looked at them with angry unhappiness.
"And if you fail?" he said. "Then I shall have lost my sons."
"What of that?" asked Pilla. "You have other sons, and we will have
died for the tribe. That is the right of a chief's son. Other men's
sons have tried, and some of them have died. Now it is our turn."
A murmur of dissent ran round the circle, for Pilla and Inda were much
loved; and they were very young. But Burkamukk looked at them proudly,
though his face was very sad.
"They say rightly," he said. "They are the chief's sons, and it is
their privilege, if need be, to die for the tribe. Go, then, my sons,
and may Pund-jel make your hearts cunning and your aim steady when you
meet Kuperee."
"There is one thing we desire," Inda said. "Will you lend us your
stone axe, my father? It seems to us that Kuperee will fall to no
ordinary weapon, and a dream has come to us that bids us take the axe.
But that is for you to say. It is a great thing to ask; but if we live
we will bring it back to you in safety."
Burkamukk signed to a young man who stood near him, and bade him fetch
the axe from his wurley. When it came, he handed it to his sons.
"It is a great treasure, but you are my sons, and you are worthy to
bear it," he said. "Never before has it left my sight in the hands of
any warrior, and I would that I were the one to wield it against
Kuperee. Good luck go with it and with you, my sons!"
So Inda and Pilla made themselves ready to go, preparing as if they
were to take part in a splendid corroboree. They painted themselves
with white stripes, and over and under their eyes and on their cheeks
drew streaks of red ochre. Round their heads they wore twisted bands
of fur, and in these bands they stuck plumes, made of the white quill
feathers of a black swan's wing. Kangaroo teeth were fastened in their
hair, and necklaces of the same teeth hung down upon their breasts.
From their shoulders hung the tails of yellow dingos. They wore belts
and aprons of wallaby skin, and, fastened behind to these belts, stiff
upright tufts of the neck feathers of the emu, like the tail of a cock.
They bore many weapons, and each took it in turn to carry the stone axe
of Burkamukk. The whole tribe came out to watch them go, and while the
men were envious, the women wailed sadly, for they were young, and it
seemed that they were going forth to die.