rose to her feet, and waving her hands round the camps of the
tribes, cried aloud: "You were in such haste to get here. You shall
stay here. Googoolguyyah. Googoolguyyah. Turn into trees. Turn into
trees." Then back she fell, dead. And as she fell, the tribes that were
standing round the edge of the ring, preparatory to gathering their
goods and going, and that her hand pointed to as it waved round, turned
into trees. There they now stand. The tribes in the background were
changed each according to the name they were known by, into that bird
or beast of the same name. The barking Mahthi into dogs; the Byahmul
into black swans: the Wahns into crows, and so on. And there at the
place of the big borah, you can see the trees standing tall and gaunt,
sad-looking in their sombre hues, waving with a sad wailing their
branches towards the lake which covers now the place where the borah
was held. And it bears the name of Googoorewon, the place of trees, and
round the edge of it is still to be seen the remains of the borah ring
of earth. And it is known as a great place of meeting for the birds
that bear the names of the tribes of old. The Byahmuls sail proudly
about; the pelicans, their water rivals in point of size and beauty;
the ducks, and many others too numerous to mention. The Ooboon, or
blue-tongued lizards, glide in and out through the grass. Now and then
is heard the "Oom, oom, oom," of the dummerh, and occasionally a cry
from the bird Millindooloonubbah of "Googoolguyyah, googoolguyyah." And
in answer comes the wailing of the gloomy-looking balah trees, and then
a rustling shirr through the bibbil branches, until at last every tree
gives forth its voice and makes sad the margin of the lake with echoes
of the past.

But the men and boys who were at the place of the little borah escaped
the metamorphosis. They waited long for the arrival of the tribes who
never came.

At last Byamee said: "Surely mighty enemies have slain our friends, and
not one escapes to tell us of their fate. Even now these enemies may be
upon our track; let us go into a far country."

And swiftly they went to Noondoo. Hurrying along with them, a dog of
Byamee's, which would fain have lain by the roadside rather than have
travelled so swiftly, but Byamee would not leave her and hurried her
on. When they reached the springs of Noondoo, the dog sneaked away into
a thick scrub, and there were born her litter of pups. But such pups as
surely man neve