Many years ago, Mirram the kangaroo and Warreen the wombat were both
men. They were very friendly, and hunted and lived together in the same
camping-ground. Warreen had a very comfortable gunyah made of bark and
soft leaves, but Mirram who was a careless fellow-did not trouble to
build a home. He was content to sleep in the open, by the side of a big
fire, with the blue sky for a cover, and the green grass for a couch.
This open air life was very nice in fine weather, when the stars
twinkled in the sky like golden fire-flies, but it was extremely
uncomfortable in the rainy season.
Ore night a great storm arose. The wind howled eerily, and rocked the
tall trees to and fro as though they were shaken by the strong arms of
an invisible giant. The rain fell in torrents, and darkness covered the
light of the stars. The rain quickly quenched the glowing embers of
Mirram's fire, and he was left to the mercy of the storm. After
shivering in the cold for some time, he decided to seek the hospitality
of Warreen. "Surely my friend would not refuse me shelter on such a
night as this," he thought. "I will ask him."
Feeling very cold and miserable, he crept to the opening of Warreen's
tent, and seeing there was sufficient space for both of them to sleep
comfortably, he woke him and said: "The storm has killed my fire. I am
very wet, and the cold wind has chilled me to the bone. May I sleep in
the corner of your tent?" Warreen blinked his eyes sleepily and answered
in a gruff voice: "No. I want to place my head in that corner. There
isn't any room." With this rude remark he moved into the corner, but, as
he could not occupy the whole space of the tent, another corner became
vacant. Mirram went away and sat by the wet ashes of his fire, and his
thoughts were as miserable as the weather. The fury of the storm
increased, and looking anxiously at the rainproof gunyah of his friend,
he decided to approach Warreen again. He entered the shelter, and,
touching Warreen gently on the shoulder, said: "The wind is very cold,
and as biting as the teeth of the wild dog. The rain is falling heavily
and will not cease. I should be grateful if you would allow me to sleep
in that corner. I will not disturb you." Warreen raised his head,
listened to the moaning of the storm outside, and then replied: "I will
not have you here; there isn't any room. Go outside and do not keep
waking me." "But," replied Mirram, "there is room in that corner. Surely
you wouldn't drive me out into the storm to die!"
Thereupon, Warreen moved one leg into the corner and again a space
became vacant. Seeing he could no longer hoodwink Mirram and hide from
him his selfish intentions, he grew very angry and yelled: "Get out! Get
out! I won't have you in my tent. I don't care where you die." This
harsh treatment exasperated Mirram and he left the tent in a terrible
rage. Outside the tent, he groped around in the dark until he found a
large flat stone. Then he crept silently to the gunyah. By the sound of
heavy breathing he knew Warreen was asleep. Moving very silently, he
entered the tent, and, raising the stone high in his arms, dashed it on
the head of the sleeper. The terrible blow did not kill Warreen but
flattened his forehead. When he had recovered from his pained surprise,
he heard the mocking voice of Mirram saying: "That is your reward for
treating a friend so cruelly. You and your children and their children's
children will wander through the land with flat foreheads that men may
know them for your selfishness." As Warreen was no match for his
opponent, he did not answer, but nursed his sore head and some very bad
thoughts. From that moment, he was always planning revenge for his
injury.
Some time later, Warreen was hunting in the forest, and, through the
shadow of the trees, he saw Mirram a short distance ahead. He crept
noiselessly towards him, and, when Mirram was looking for the marks of a
possum on the bark of a tree, he threw a spear at him with all his
strength. The spear struck Mirram at the bottom of the back, and so
deeply did it enter that he could not pull it out. While he was
struggling with the spear, Warreen walked up to him, and, in a bantering
voice, said: "Aha! My turn has come at last. I have waited long to
repay you. You will always carry the spear in your back and wander
without a home while you live. Your children will carry the spear and be
homeless for ever. By these tokens, men will always remember your
attempt to kill me while I slept."
From that time the kangaroo has had a long tail, which makes a low,
thudding sound as he wanders homeless through the bush, and the wombat
still has a very flat forehead as an everlasting sign of selfishness.
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