Page:The Native Tribes of South Australia (1879).djvu/214

 140 FATHER AND SON. wandering light of merkani (enemies), and then I thought I saw a blackfellow standing not far off, and the cold sweat ran down my face, I was so frightened. But the moon rose afterwards, and I saw it was only a black stump. But I did not go very near it knowing that Melape, the wood devil, sometimes makes himself look like this, so that he may catch people. At last daylight came. We did not know what to do. We could not leave our father to the wild dogs. Neither of us could leave the other alone with the dead. So, at last, I and Ngalyalli took each a kanake (a pointed waddy) and dug a hole in the sand, and then took our father’s body and lifted it in, and laid it gently down. Then we both cried. And then we buried it with sand. And afterwards we did not know what to do. What would the old men say? Our father was a man, and ought not to have been put under ground like that, but to have been dried in the camp, while the tribe mourned for him. And then we thought somebody must have killed him with ngadhungi (sorcery), and perhaps they might kill us too. We got up and ran away from the place in terror. I took my father’s kanaker (waddies) and spear; Ngalyalli carried the tinuwarri we had caught and the skin full of water; and we went right into the scrub. Then night came on, and we made a fire from a bit of bark we carried with us from last night’s camp. Very little we slept. We felt sick with fear. We cooked a tinuwarri, but we could not eat much. Next day we went again to the lake, as if we would go to Tuldurrug; but it was hot, and so we camped again. Next morning we were too bad to move, so we stayed there all that day and night. In the middle of the day after I was trying to sleep a little, when I heard a man say, "Kai hai! kai hai!"* and I looked up and there stood my father’s brother, and my grandfather, and two other men. They came up and when they saw us they cried, "Yakkai! Yakkai! Yakkaiakat! Poor children!" And I got up and threw myself into the arms of him who was now my only father, and sobbed a long time. Then, they made me and Ngalyalli drink water and eat some meat. After we had done so, we told them our story, and then they cried again. They said they had wondered we did not return, and so they went down to seek us at Ngiakkung. There they tracked us to our camp, and then they lost our father’s tracks and found only ours, so they went on and followed them until they found us. Next morning we started for Rauukki. We went slowly, except one man, who went on quickly, so as to tell our people. Just at pangarinda (the time of shadows, evening) we got to the camp on the hill at Rauukki. When the people saw us coming the whole tribe cried with a loud voice. Everybody wept and mourned greatly, and were very sorry to think that we two poor children must have suffered. For many days after I and Ngalyalli were ill, and it was a long time before we got over the terrible death of our poor father. He lies there in his grave at Ngiakkung where we put him. NGUNAITPONI AND HIS FATHER. There lived amongst the Piltinyerar an old man and his son. The name of the latter was Ngunaitponi. The name of his father, after the native fashion, was lost in that of the child; so he was commonly called Ngunaitpon-arnii e., the father of  InterjectionsO dear! Alas! Poor thing!
 * The native interjection of wonder and surprise.