then the worst part of the drought happened, for the creek began to run dry.

day after day it ran a little more slowly, and the deep holes at the bends shrank and dwindled away. the fish disappeared completely, having swum down-stream to where deeper waters awaited them; and so another source of food was lost to the tribe. there only remained the black mud-eels, and soon it was hard to find any of these, try as they might. that was bad, but it was nothing in comparison to the loss of the water supply. without the creek, the tribe could not exist, for the only other drinking-places in their country were swamps and morasses, and these, too, were dried up and useless. so the magic-men and head-men became very anxious, and many were the black glances cast upon the unconscious kur-bo-roo as he slunk round the camp or hunted for food in the scrub. then the head-men issued a command that no one should drink from the creek itself, lest the little water remaining should be stirred up and made muddy, or lest anyone should drink too much. instead of going to the creek to drink, they were permitted to fill their tarnuks, or drinking-vessels, each morning; and then no one was allowed to approach the creek again that day. so in the mornings a long procession of women went down to the bank, where a head-man watched them fill the tarnuks, remaining until the last had hurried away, very much afraid of his fierce eyes.

but the new law fell very heavily on kur-bo-roo, for he had now no tarnuk. the little one made for him by his father long ago had disappeared when he lost everything, and since then he had always been accustomed to drink at the creek. now, however, he could not do so, and no one would give him a tarnuk, or let him drink from theirs. he would have stolen it very readily, for he was now not at all a well-brought-up little boy, but the tarnuks were hung far beyond his reach.

of course, the magic-men knew how the new law would affect the little fellow. they knew that now it would be impossible for kur-bo-roo to drink, and after a little he would "tumble-down" and be dead; and then, perhaps, the evil spirit would be satisfied, and go away from the tribe. they watched him carefully, and were glad that he became weak and wretched. they had uttered such savage penalties against drinking from the creek that it never occurred to them that he would dare to disobey. but sometimes in the darkness kur-bo-roo used to creep down for a drink, being, indeed, as desperate as a boy can be, and quite sure that unless he went he must die; and he had become so stealthy in his movements that he was never caught. it did not satisfy his thirst, of course, for it was the hottest part of the summer, and all the blacks were accustomed to drinking a great deal: still, it was something. at least, it kept him alive.

then, one morning, came news of a number of kangaroo feeding two miles away by the creek, and all the camp fell into a state of tremendous excitement at the very idea of such a chance of food. all the men and big boys dashed off at once, and presently the women made up their minds that they would follow them, as it was not at all unlikely that if the men had good luck in their hunt they might immediately sit down and eat a great portion of the game they had killed—in which case there was only a poor look-out for those left in camp. so they gathered up their dilly-bags and sticks, slung the babies on their backs, and ran off into the bush after the men, leaving the camp deserted.

now, it chanced that kur-bo-roo knew nothing of all this. he had not spent the night in camp, because, on the evening before, he had been savagely beaten by two big boys, who had caught him alone in the scrub, and when they had finished with him he was too sick and sore to crawl back to the wurleys. he had crept under a bush, and slept there uneasily, for the pain of his bruises kept waking him up. the sun was quite high in the sky before he made up his mind to go back to the camp, in the faint hope that some one would give him food. so he limped slowly through the bush, wincing when the harsh boughs rubbed against his sore limbs.

he stopped at the edge of the camp and rubbed his fists into his eyes, blinking in surprise. no one was in sight; instead of the hum and bustle of the camp, the men sitting about carving their spears and throwing-sticks, the women chattering round the wurleys, the babies rolling on the ground and playing with the dogs, there was only desolation and silence. he approached one hut after another, and poked in a timid head, but he saw no one, and the stillness seemed almost terrible to him. then, in a corner of one wurley he saw a rush-basket, and from it came a smell that would have been disgusting to anyone but a black, but was pure delight to kur-bo-roo. his fear vanished as he seized upon the food and ate it ravenously.

he came out presently, his thin little body not nearly so hollow as before, and looked about him. the food had made him feel better, but he was terribly thirsty. and then he saw, with a little glad shout, that all about the camp were drinking-vessels, brimming with water—put down wherever their owners had happened to be when they had rushed away to the hunt. kur-bo-roo did not know anything about that, of course; he only knew that here was water enough to make him forget that he had ever been thirsty. he ran eagerly to the nearest tarnuk and drank and drank until he could drink no more.

and with that drink, so the blacks say, a great change came upon little kur-bo-roo.

kur-bo-roo put down the tarnuk and stood upright, throwing his head back in sheer bodily happiness at once more having had enough to eat and drink. all his bruises and soreness had suddenly gone; he was no longer tired and lonely and unhappy, but strong and well and glad. how wonderfully strong he felt! a new feeling ran through all his body.

"i am stronger than anybody ever was before!" he said aloud. and he believed that it was true.

he glanced round the deserted camp. it was quiet now, but he felt sure that soon the blacks would come hurrying back. perhaps they would be there in a moment: kur-bo-roo listened, half dreading to hear the quick pad-pad of bare feet over the hard, baked ground. no sound came. but he knew that they would return: and then, what would await him?

his new strength seemed to burn him. he stretched his arms out, wondering at their hard muscles, although he felt that the drink had been magic, and so he need not wonder at anything at all. some good spirit, perhaps sorry for lonely little boys, had evidently come to help him. fear suddenly left him altogether, and with its going came a mighty desire for revenge. he did not know what he was going to do, but the new power that was in him urged him on.

a little tree grew in front of him. he began to gather up all the drinking-vessels, and, one by one, to hang them upon the boughs. there were very many, and it took a long time, but at last the task was completed, and not a tarnuk was left in the camp. he looked in the wurleys, and found many empty vessels, and these also he hung up in the tree. then he took the biggest tarnuk of all, and a little tarnuk, and went down to the creek: and with the little tarnuk he filled the big one, dipping up all the water from the creek, until there was none left. there was much water, yet still the big tarnuk held it all, and only the mud of the creek-bed remained where the stream had been rippling past. even as he looked, that grew dry and hard. then kur-bo-roo turned and carried his burden up the bank to his tree, and from the big tarnuk he filled all the empty ones. they held a great deal, and yet the big tarnuk remained quite full. for now there was magic in everything that kur-bo-roo touched.

he climbed up into the little tree and seated himself comfortably in a fork, where he could see everything, and yet lean back comfortably. a quiver ran through the tree, as if something far underground had shaken it; and suddenly it began to grow. it grew and grew, spreading wide arms to the sky, until it was as large as very many big trees all put together: and its trunk was tall and straight and very smooth. all the time, kur-bo-roo sat in the fork and smiled.

when the tree had finished growing, he heard a sound of voices far below him, and, looking down, he saw the tribe hurrying back through the scrub to their camp. their hunt had been unsuccessful, for all the kangaroo had got away into the country of another tribe, where they dared not follow: so they were returning, hungry and thirsty, and in a very bad temper, for they had not found any water in the places where they had been. they came angrily back to the camp, and from his seat in the fork of the great tree kur-bo-roo looked down at them and smiled.

the blacks were far too thirsty to look up at any tree. they hurried to the wurleys. then the first said, "where is my tarnuk?" and another said, "wah! my tarnuk has gone!" and a third, "who has taken all our tarnuks?" they became very angry, and beat their wives because they could find no drinking-vessels and no water: then, becoming desperate because of their thirst, they hurried to the creek. and lo! the creek was dry! they came back from the creek, jabbering and afraid, believing that the evil spirits had done this wonderful thing. presently one saw the big tree, and cried out in astonishment.

"ky! what tree is that?" he exclaimed.

they gathered round, staring in amazement at the huge tree: and so they saw all their tarnuks hanging in its branches, and little kur-bo-roo sitting smiling in the fork.

"wah! is that you?" they called. "have you any water?"

"yes, here am i, and i have plenty of water," said kur-bo-roo. "but i will not give you one drop, because you would give me none, although i died of thirst."

some threatened him, and some begged of him, and the women and children wailed round the base of the tree. but kur-bo-roo smiled down at them, and took no heed of all their anger and their crying. then a couple of young men took their tomahawks of stone and began to climb the tree, although they were afraid, because it was so big. still, thirst drove them, and so they came up the tree, cutting notches for their fingers and toes in the smooth trunk, and coming wonderfully quickly. but kur-bo-roo laughed, and let fall a little water on them from a tarnuk; and as soon as the water touched them, they fell to the ground and were killed.

again and again other men tried to climb the tree, becoming desperate with their own thirst and the crying of the women and children; but always they met the same fate. always kur-bo-roo smiled, and splashed a few drops of water upon them: only a drop on each of them, but as the drops touched them their hold loosened, the grip of their toes relaxed, and they fell from the great height, to meet their death on the ground below. so it went on until nearly all the men of the tribe were gone: and kur-bo-roo sat in the fork of the tree and smiled.

and it still went on, all through the moonlit night. but in the dawn two men came back from hunting: ta-jerr and tarrn-nin, the sons of pund-jel, maker of men. they were very cunning, as well as being very brave, and after they had taken counsel together, they began to climb the tree. but they did not climb as the other men had done, straight up the long line of the smooth trunk. instead, they climbed round and round, as the clematis creeps when it throws its tendrils about a branch.

kur-bo-rop laughed, just as he had laughed at the others, and waited until they had ascended to a great height. then he took water, and let it fall—but the men were no longer in the same place, but on the other side, climbing round and round, and he missed them. again and again he ran to get more, and poured it down; they were very quick, circling about the trunk, and always managed to escape the falling drops. they came to the place where the trunk forked, and swung themselves into the high boughs.

then little kur-bo-roo began to cry in a terrified voice. but they seized him, not heeding, and beat him until all his bones were broken, and then threw him down. the other blacks uttered a great shout of triumph, and ran to kill him.

but the magic that had helped him came to the aid of little kur-bo-roo once more, and so he did not die. suddenly, just as the angry blacks were upon him, with uplifted waddies and threatening faces, he changed under their gaze; and where there had been a little black boy there lay for a moment a native bear, his grey fur bristling, and fear filling his soft eyes. then, very swiftly, he gathered himself up and ran up a tree, until he was out of sight among the branches.

just then the blacks were too thirsty to pursue him. overhead, ta-jerr and tarrn-nin were cutting at the branches of the great tree that held the tarnuks; and all the water came out and flowed back to the creek, and again the creek became wide and clear, running swiftly in its bed so that there was drink for all. then ta-jerr and tarrn-nin came down to the ground, and the tribe hailed them as heroes. but when they looked for little kur-bo-roo, the native bear, he had fled into another tree, and had disappeared.

from that time, the native bears became food for the black people. but it is law that they must not break their bones when they kill them, nor must they take off their skin before they cook them. so they take them carefully, hitting them on the head; and they cook them by roasting them whole in an oven of stones, sunk in the ground. if the law were broken, kur-bo-roo would again become powerful, the magic-men say; and the first thing he would do would be to dry up all the creeks.

now, kur-bo-roo lives near the creeks and water holes, so that if the people broke the law he might at once carry away the water. he is not very wise, because he was only quite a little boy before he became a native bear, and so had not much time to gain wisdom: but he is soft, and fat, and gentle, unless you interfere with him when he wants to climb a tree, and then he can scratch very hard with his sharp claws. all he can do is to climb, and he does not see very well in the daytime: therefore, he thinks that whatever he meets is a tree, and at once he tries to climb it. if the blacks throw things at him when he is sitting in the fork of a tree, he blinks down at them, and sometimes you might think he smiles. but if they climb his tree and come near to knock him down, he cries always, very terribly—just as he cried long ago, when he was magic and ta-jerr and tarrn-nin climbed his great tree and threw him to the people far below.