the blacks believed that the earth was quite flat, with the sky arched above it. they had an idea that if anyone could get beyond the edge of the sky he would come to another country, with rivers and trees, where live the ghosts of all the people who have died. some thought that there was water all round the edge of the earth. they were taught that at first the sky had lain flat on the ground, so that neither sun, moon, nor stars could move, but the magpies came along and propped it up with long sticks, resting some parts on the mountains near the edge. and sometimes word was sent from tribe to tribe, saying that the props were growing rotten, and unless the people sent up tomahawks to cut new props, the sky would fall. in its falling it would burst, and all the people would be drowned. this used to alarm the blacks greatly, and they would make the magic-men weave charms so that the sky should not fall.

at first, all the earth was in darkness; and at that time there lived among the blacks a man called dityi. in his tribe was a very beautiful woman whose name was mitjen; and she became dityi's wife.

at first dityi and mitjen were very happy. they had plenty to eat, and the camp was warm and comfortable, and they loved each other very much. there were no white men, at that time: the blacks ruled all their country, which they thought was the whole world. the forests were full of game, and the rivers of fish: every one had enough, so there was no fighting. and dityi thought he was the luckiest man in the world, because he had won the love of mitjen.

but a stranger came to the camp: a tall dark-eyed man named bunjil. he told stories of far-away forests and wonderful things to be found there. the other blacks used to listen to him, greatly interested; and no one listened more attentively than mitjen, for she had a great longing to see the wonderful places of which bunjil spoke. when she heard him tell stories of these strange lands of the bush, she burned to leave her quiet home and go exploring. dityi could not understand this feeling at all. it interested him to hear bunjil's tales, but he had no wish to do more than hear them. he was very well satisfied with his life, and thought that his own home was better than any other place could possibly be.

but bunjil soon noticed the dark-eyed girl who never lost a word of his stories. it amused him to see her face light up and her eyes sparkle at his talk; and so he told more and more stories, and did not always trouble to make them true, so long as he could make mitjen look interested. sometimes he would meet her wandering alone outside the camp, and then he would tell her, as if he were sorry for her, that this quiet camp was no place for her at all. "you are so beautiful," he would say, "that you should be far away in my wonderful country, where you would see many great men and lovely women; but none more lovely than mitjen. in this dull hole you are buried alive."

none of this was true, but bunjil spoke exactly as if it were, and after a time mitjen began to be very discontented. the simple happy life in the bush pleased her no longer; she only wanted the exciting things of which bunjil told. at home, everybody was good to her and liked her, but she was only a girl who had to obey other people all the time, and no one but dityi had ever troubled about telling her that she was beautiful. moreover, she could see that bunjil did not think much of dityi. he called him one day to mitjen, "an ignorant black fellow," and though mitjen could not imagine any people who were not black, it sounded very uncomplimentary, and she could not forget it. as soon as he had said it, bunjil apologized, saying that it was only a slip of the tongue—but in her heart mitjen knew this was not true. it made her look down on dityi a little, and wonder if he were really worthy of her.

one day she asked him if he would take her to bunjil's country, and his surprise prevented him from speaking for some time. he could only look at her, with his mouth open.

"go away from home!" he said at last. "why? what is there to go for?"

"to see the world," said mitjen, tossing her head. "i do not want to stay for ever in this weary place."

"but it is the world—or most of it," returned dityi. "i do not know where bunjil's country is—but the men there cannot be up to much if they are like him, for he is more useless than anyone i ever saw. he cannot throw a boomerang better than a girl, and with a spear i could beat him with my left hand!"

"you are boastful," said mitjen coldly. "throwing weapons is not everything."

"well, i don't know how things are managed in bunjil's country, but it is very important in ours that a man should know how to throw," said dityi. "perhaps bunjil's game comes close to him to be killed, but here a man has to hunt it. did bunjil mention if it came ready cooked too? i don't suppose you would want to do any work in that country of his!"

this made mitjen very angry, and she quarrelled fiercely with dityi for making fun of her; and then dityi lost his temper and beat her a little, which was quite a usual thing to happen to a woman among the blacks. but mitjen had been told by bunjil that in his country a man never raised his hand against a woman. so it made her furious to be beaten by dityi, though he cared for her too much really to hurt her, and she broke away from him and ran to the camp, sobbing that she hated him and did not want to see him any more.

near the camp she met bunjil, who asked her why she was crying; and when she told him, he was kind to her, patting her gently, and pretending to be very angry with dityi. he was safe in doing this, for dityi had gone off whistling into the bush—not sorry that he had beaten mitjen, if it should make her sensible again, but sorry that she was unhappy, and resolved to bring her back a snake or something equally nice for supper. so bunjil ran no risk in abusing him, and he did it heartily. when they had finished talking, mitjen walked away from him into the camp with a very determined face. she went straight to her wurley, and though dityi brought her home a beautiful young snake and a lace-lizard, she would eat nothing and refused to come out of the wurley to speak to him. so dityi went back to the young men's huts, angry and offended, and mitjen lay down, turning her face to the wall. she was just as determined; but only her own heart knew how much she was afraid.

when the people of the camp awoke, she was gone. nowhere was there any trace of her. and when the blacks went to look for bunjil, in his wurley, he was gone, too. then they fell into a great rage, and the young men painted themselves in white stripes with pipeclay, and went forth in pursuit, carrying all their arms, and led by dityi. but though they looked for many days, they could never come upon a track; and so at last the other young men gave up the search, and went back to the camp. but dityi did not go back. there was nothing for him at home now that he had lost mitjen; and so he went on, hunting through the dark forests for his lost love.

bunjil and mitjen had fled far into the bush. for a long time they walked in the creek, so that they would leave no tracks, and if they came to deep holes, they swam them. they were far away from mitjen's country before they dared to leave the water, and already the girl was tired. but bunjil would not let her stop to rest, for he knew that they would be pursued. he hurried her on, forgetting now to be gentle when he spoke to her.

it was not many days before mitjen realized the terrible mistake she had made. they fled deeper and deeper into the bush, but no wonderful country came in sight. she was often cold and hungry, and bunjil made her work harder than she had ever worked before, doing not only the woman's work, but a large share of the man's. she found out that he was almost too lazy to get food, and if she had not hunted for game herself, she would never have had enough to eat. bunjil had told her that he loved her, but very soon she knew that this was not true, and that all he had wanted was a woman to cook for him and help him procure food.

at first she used to ask him when they would come to his own country, and he would put her off, saying, "presently—pretty soon." but before long she found that it made him angry to be asked about it; and at last, if she spoke of it, he beat her cruelly. so mitjen did not ask any more.

then all the memories of dityi and his love came crowding upon her, and her heart quite broke. she did not want to live any more. she lay down under a big log, and when bunjil spoke to her there was no answer. so he kicked her, and left her. but after he had slept, he went to see why she lay so still; and he found that she was dead.

as he looked at her, a great storm came out of the bush and whirled him away. it flung him far up in the sky, where you may see him now, if you look closely: a lonely, wandering star, finding no rest anywhere, and no mate. always he must wander on and on, and never stop, no matter how tired he may be; and the other stars shrink from him, hurrying away if they cross his path.

the storm took mitjen also, and carried her gently into the sky; and there she saw dityi, who lit it all up, for he had been turned into the sun, and was giving light to the earth. but always, the blacks say, he is seeking mitjen. like a great fire, he leaps through the sky, mourning for his love and going back and forth in ceaseless quest of her. his wurley is in nganat, just over the edge of the earth; and the bright colour of sunset is caused by the spirits of the dead going in and out of nganat, while dityi looks among them for his lost love. but he never finds her; and so next day he begins to hunt again, and goes tramping across the sky. sometimes he shouts her name—"mitjen! mitjen!"—and it is then that we hear thunder go rolling round the world. but mitjen never answers.

she has been made the moon, and always she mourns far away and alone. when she sees the glory of the sun, and hears his trampling feet, she hides herself, for now she is ashamed to let him find her. she only comes from her hiding-place when he sleeps; and then she hurries through the sky, so that she may have the comfort of going in his footsteps, though she knows now that she can never hope to overtake him. sometimes she sighs, and then a soft breeze flutters over the earth; and the big rain is the tears that relieve her grief.