of the tribe, behind them
some young men, then those in charge of the coffin and the two nearest
women relations, immediately behind them the old women, then the young
women. No women with babies were allowed to go, nor any children. I
came last with old Bootha.

The procession moved along an old winding track on the top of a
moorilla, or pebbly ridge, pine-trees overarching in places carving the
sky into a dome--a natural temple through which we walked to the
burial-ground.

Every now and then we heard a bird note, which made the women glance at
each other and say, first, 'Guadgee,' then 'Bootha,' as it came again,
and a third time 'Hippitha.' To my uneducated ear the note seemed the
same each time. I asked Bootha what it was. She told me it was the note
of a little bird, something like a wren, called Durrooee, in whose
shape the spirits of dead women revisited the earth. It seems that
Numbardee, the first woman, was, like Milton's Eve, a caterer; she
acquired art in beating the roots of plants into flat cakes much
esteemed; she was never to be met without some, carrying them always in
a bag across her shoulders.

And Byamee was so pleased with her for always having food for the
hungry that, when at length she died, he allowed her to revisit her old
gahreemai, or camp, her spirit returning in the form of the little
honey-eater bird, Durrooee; and all women after her had a like
privilege if they had done their duty in life. These birds are sacred;
no one must harm them, nor even imitate their cry. It would be hard to
hurt them, for the spirit in them is so strong. If any one even takes
up a stick or stone to throw at them, hardly is it raised from the
ground when the would-be assailant is forcibly knocked over, though he
sees nothing but the little bird he was about to attack. Then he knows
the bird must be a spirit bird, and perhaps seeing him look at her, the
bird calls a woman's name, then he knows whose spirit it is.

A black boy on the station was badly hurt by a fall from a tree. It had
seemed strange that such a good climber should fall. The blacks said it
was because there was a Durrooee's nest in that tree, the spirit had
knocked him down, and for a time so paralysed the man with him that he
could not move to his assistance. Needless to say, they have avoided
that tree since.

In the distance we heard the sound of the grave being dug. None of the
same totem as the dead person must dig the grave. The coffi