fruits, and your wirrees with honey. Haste ye, I say, and do well."

Having listened to the words of Gooloo, the women decided to do as she
said, and, leaving their children with her, they started forth with
empty comebees, and armed with combos, with which to chop out the bees'
nests and opossums, and with yam sticks to dig up yams.

When the women had gone, Gooloo gathered the children round her and fed
them with durrie, hot from the coals. Honey, too, she gave them, and
bumbles which she had buried to ripen. When they had eaten, she hurried
them off to her real home, built in a hollow tree, a little distance
away from where she had been cooking her durrie. Into her house she
hurriedly thrust them, followed quickly herself, and made all secure.
Here she fed them again, but the children had already satisfied their
hunger, and now they missed their mothers and began to cry. Their
crying reached the ears of the women as they were returning to their
camp. Quickly they came at the sound which is not good in a mother's
ears. As they quickened their steps they thought how soon the spoils
that lay heavy in their comebees would comfort their children. And
happy they, the mothers, would feel when they fed the Wahroogahs with
the dainties they had gathered for them. Soon they reached the camp,
but, alas! where were their children? And where was Gooloo the magpie?

"They are playing wahgoo," they said, "and have hidden themselves."

The mothers hunted all round for them, and called aloud the names of
their children and Gooloo. But no answer could they hear and no trace
could they find. And yet every now and then they heard the sound of
children wailing. But seek as they would they found them not. Then
loudly wailed the mothers themselves for their lost Wahroogahs, and,