booran was a very clever bird. he was bigger than most of the water-fowl, and very strong. he was also very proud, partly because of his great wings, which would carry his heavy body skimming over the lakes and swamps, and partly because of his beautiful white plumage. all his feathers were perfectly white, and he was so vain about it that he scorned every bird that had coloured or dark plumage. he used to look at his reflection in deep pools, and murmur, "how beautiful i am!" if by any mischance he got a mud-stain on his feathers he was quite unhappy until he had managed to wash it off. some people might not think a pelican a very lovely bird, but booran was completely satisfied with himself.
besides being beautiful and white, booran at that time owned a bark canoe. it made him prouder than ever. it was not a very big canoe, but it was as much as a pelican could comfortably manage. he used to sit in it and paddle it along with his strong wings. there was really no reason why he should have had a canoe at all, for he was quite able to swim about in the water with far less labour than it needed to paddle his boat with his wings. it was only part of his great pride.
still, no other bird had ever thought of having a canoe, so it pleased booran to think himself superior to them all. no other bird wanted one at all, but he forgot that. the emu laughed at him openly, and when booran offered him a trip in his canoe he asked rudely what booran thought he could do with his long legs in such a cockle shell? that made booran more indignant than he had ever been since two black swans had risen suddenly under the canoe one day and upset both it and booran in a very muddy part of a lake. he vowed that no other bird should ever enter it. sometimes a meek little bird, such as a honey-eater or a bell-bird, would perch on the edge of the canoe and ask to be ferried about; but booran never would allow it. he used to catch fish, and when he had stored all he could in his pouch he would put the rest in the canoe, so that soon it became all one dreadful smell. not that any people in the country of the blacks were likely to object to that. they were brought up on smells.
when the big flood came, booran enjoyed himself thoroughly. the river was too swift for him to attempt in his canoe at first, but he paddled about in the water that covered the plains, and poked into a great many things that did not concern him in the least. sometimes he ran aground, when it was always an easy matter for him to jump overboard and push the canoe off with his great beak. he found all kinds of new things to eat, floating round in the flood-water; and some of them gave him indigestion rather badly. but on the whole it was a very interesting time, and he was very glad that he had a canoe so that he could go about in a stylish manner.
it was on the afternoon of the third day after the water had begun to go down, that booran was first able to try the canoe on the river. the current was still swift, but he kept in the quieter water near each bank, and did not find much difficulty in getting about. he saw a number of strange blacks on a rise near the water, busily building wurleys; but they did not see him, for he dodged under cover of the wattle-trees fringing the bank. then he pulled down-stream for a little while, until he came to where the banks were lower, and not many trees were to be seen out of the water. he rounded a bend, and came upon karwin and his companions.
booran's first instinct was to get out of sight. he was afraid of all blackfellows, especially when they had spears and throwing-sticks. but before he could go, the woman murla saw him, and uttered a great cry of astonishment. at once they believed that it was magic—so many strange things could be explained that way. they watched the big white bird in his bark canoe, and waited to see what would happen, hoping that he was not an evil spirit who would do them any harm.
seeing them so quiet, and realizing that they were unarmed, booran allowed his natural curiosity to get the better of him. he paddled across the river, swept down a little by the current, and stopped his canoe in a quiet pool near the mud island, where the castaways sat miserably on their log. they looked so forlorn and unhappy that even his cold and fishy heart was stirred.
"good day," he said.
"good day," karwin answered.
"this is a big flood," booran remarked.
"yes, it is a very big one. all the land has gone away."
"yes, but it will come back. fish are scarce, now that the river is high."
"that is very likely," said karwin.
then, having made all these stupid remarks, as all men do before they come to business, they stopped, and looked at the sky, and booran said, "i wonder if more rain will come!"
murla struck in suddenly.
"men are very strange," she said. "they are always ready to jabber. how is it that you go about in that little boat?"
"because i like it," said booran shortly, for he did not approve of women talking so freely, neither did he like the question about his canoe.
murla laughed. "you look very funny when you are cross," she said. "i never saw such a dignified pelican." the other women shuddered, for they thought that booran might be an evil spirit, in which case he would certainly object to such free-and-easy remarks. but booran looked at murla, and saw how pretty she was, and suddenly he did not wish to be angry. instead, he smiled at her; and no one who has not seen it can imagine how peculiar a pelican looks when he smiles.
"it is a very useful canoe," he said. "i have been all over the flood-waters in it, and have seen many wonderful things."
"have you any food?" asked murla eagerly.
"no, for i have eaten it all. but i may come across some at any time. would you like it?"
"like it!" said murla. "why, we have only had two snakes and a wombat between us for four days—and the wombat was only a little one. i could eat the quills of a porcupine!"
"dear me," said booran, looking at her with his foolish little eyes very wide. "that would be very unpleasant, would it not? i quite regret that i ate an old fish that i found in the stern of my canoe this morning. not that it would have made much of a meal for four people."
"it would have given me a breakfast," said karwin rudely. "but as there is no food, there is no use in talking about it. tell me, pelican, have you seen any of our people? we do not know if there are any left alive."
"i have seen some blacks, but i do not know if they are your people," booran answered. "they are across the river, where they are building themselves new huts."
"can't you go and see if they belong to our tribe?"
booran shook his big head decidedly.
"not i," he said. "most blacks are very uncivil to pelicans, and these had weapons close at hand. i have no wish to be found with a spear sticking in my heart, or in any other part of me."
"did you notice what they were like?" murla asked eagerly.
"i saw a fat woman, and a thin man," said booran stupidly. "how should i know what they were like? they are not beautiful like pelicans. oh, and i saw a very tall man, with a red bone through his nose. he was sitting idly on a stump while the others worked."
"that was my husband!" said murla with a faint shriek. "alas, i thought he was drowned! and the fat woman may be your wife, goomah," she said to karwin.
"very likely," said karwin. "did you notice if they had food?"
"i do not know. but it is likely, for they had fire, and there was a pleasant smell."
"if my wife goomah has food and fire, while i have nothing, there will be trouble," said karwin wrathfully.
"that may be, but we will die here without ever knowing," murla said. "long before the water goes down we will have starved to death, and then nothing will matter." she broke off a bit of wood and flung it into the swirling river. "i wish we had never tried to save ourselves, or seen that hateful log!"
now, booran had been watching murla, and he thought she looked very capable, and he thought that she could be very useful to him if he could get her away to some place where she could catch fish for him, so that he might spend all his time admiring himself and paddling about in his canoe.
but he did not quite know how to manage it.
karwin and the woman went on wrangling. they had not been happy before booran came with his tidings; but now they could only think of their fellow-blacks feasting and making a warm and comfortable camp, and it made them feel very much worse than they had felt before. they shouted long and loudly in the hope of making the others hear; but no answer came, and the river rushed by them without pity, and they hated their little mud island.
all the time, booran gazed at murla, and at last he made up his mind that he could not possibly do without her. whatever happened, he must get her away, and sail with her in his bark canoe to an island where the blacks could never find her. the others were talking so fast that he had time to think out a plan, and when they stopped for lack of breath, he spoke.
"i think, if you sat very still and got in and out very carefully, that i could take you across the river, one at a time," he said, speaking in a great hurry.
"that thing would sink," said karwin sulkily, looking at the little canoe with eyes of scorn.
"no, it does not sink easily. you would have to be very careful, but it would be safe."
karwin looked at the canoe, and then he looked at the trees that showed round the bend, when the high banks were quite clear of water. it was very tempting to think of getting there—such a little way! he thought hard. then he said:
"you can take kari first—she is the lightest, and if the canoe does not sink with her, perhaps i will go."
booran did not care which he took first, so long as it was not murla. but the woman kari objected very strongly, and made a great outcry, for she thought she would be drowned. however, the others were all agreed that she should go, so there was no use in objecting, and she had to give in. crying and trembling, she stepped into the canoe, which booran brought close to the bank.
the canoe went down a good deal, but it did not sink, and booran paddled gently up the stream, keeping very close to the bank, so that the current did not sweep him down. he disappeared round the bend, and for awhile karwin and the two women who were left watched anxiously, fearing to see the upturned canoe float back empty. but in about ten minutes they saw booran turn the corner and paddle swiftly down, evidently very pleased with himself. when he got near the mud island he called out, "all is well! i landed her easily on the bank, and she has run to the camp."
that made the others eager, and murla stepped forward to get into the canoe. but booran stopped her, saying, "not now—next time!"—and before she could argue, karwin twisted her out of his way, and stepped into the canoe so hurriedly that it nearly sank, and booran called out very angrily to him to mind what he was doing. however, the canoe righted itself, and presently booran had paddled it out of sight again.
murla began to feel a little uneasy, though she scarcely knew why. there was something wrong about the way that booran looked at her, with his cold eyes that were so like a fish's. she felt she would be glad when she was out of his canoe, and safely on the same side as her people. she did not want to get into the canoe at all; but as it was necessary to do so, she decided to get it over as soon as possible. so she said to the other black woman, "i will go next, meri."
"all right," said meri, shivering under her little 'possum rug and her coat of mud. "but tell the pelican to hurry back, or i shall certainly die of cold."
murla waited impatiently until booran appeared, and when the canoe came alongside the bank she was ready. but booran looked at her queerly, and said, "not now—next time!
"why?" asked murla angrily. "this is my turn."
"not now—next time!" was all booran would say; and he beckoned to meri, who was not slow to obey, for she was very tired of waiting. she stepped in, and the canoe moved away from the mud island.
suddenly murla was very much afraid, although as a rule she did not know what fear meant. she felt that she must not get into booran's canoe—that there was danger coming very close to her. in a few minutes he would be back for her. a quick resolve came to her mind. whatever happened, booran must not find her there when he came back.
she slipped off her 'possum rug and wrapped it round a log that had come ashore on their island. it was just as long as she was, and when the rug was wrapped about it, it looked as if she were lying asleep. then she slipped into the river, and began to swim across.
booran and meri were out of sight round the bend, and what she wanted to do was to get to the other side before the canoe came back. but it was not an easy matter. the current was swift, and though she was a very strong swimmer, it took her down-stream; and once she thought that she must be drowned. however, just as she was on the point of giving up, she felt the ground under her feet, and scrambled out upon a bank that was nearly all under water. then she waded along it until she got near the bend.
just then she heard the noise of booran's wings brushing in the water. she flung herself down on her face—just in time, for the canoe came round the bend, and passed quite close to her. booran heard the swirl in the water, and glanced round, seeing the ripples; but just then he caught sight of what looked like murla, lying on the mud island, and he said, "oh, it was only a water rat!" and paddled on.
murla lay still in the water, holding her breath, until he had floated down the stream. then she got up very quietly and waded, sinking in the soft mud of the bank until it grew higher, and trees and dry land could be seen. she ran then, casting her eyes wildly about until she saw ahead a little drift of smoke; and presently, toiling up a steep rise in the bank, she came upon the blacks, where already karwin and meri and kari were jabbering loudly, telling all their experiences and hearing those of the others at the same time. they cried out with astonishment when they saw murla coming along the bank, and asked her why booran had not brought her in his canoe.
when she told them she had been afraid of him, they all laughed at her. but her husband, the tall man with the red bone through his nose, was very angry because she had left her 'possum rug behind, and asked her if she thought rugs like that grew on wild cherry-trees. he went off at once to see if he could get it back, telling her as he went that if he failed, she need not think she was going to have his. of course, murla had known that already.
meanwhile, booran had paddled down to the mud island, and, seeing the form in the 'possum rug, lying under the shelter of the great log, he called to it several times, saying, "come on, now. it is your turn." but no movement came, and at last he grew angry, and hopped out of the canoe and went on to the island, still calling. there was no answer, and he lost his temper and kicked the figure very hard—with the result that he hurt his foot very much. then he pulled the rug off roughly, and found only a log underneath.
booran became furious. he had been made to look a fool. for awhile he stamped about the island, screaming in his rage, and when the blacks got to the opposite bank that is how they saw him. then booran made up his mind that he would "look out fight," as the blacks do, and kill the husband of the woman.
so he took some mud and smeared it on himself in long lines, so that he might be striped as the blacks are when they go fighting: for a blackfellow does not consider himself dressed for battle until he has painted himself in long white streaks with pipeclay. he was so busy painting, and planning how he would slay murla's husband, that he did not see a black shadow in the sky. it was another pelican, and he came nearer, puzzled to know what could be this strange thing, so like a pelican and yet striped like a fighting man. he could not make it out, but he decided it could not be right; and so he drove at booran and struck him in the throat with his great beak, killing him. then he flew away.
now the blacks say, there are no black pelicans any more. they are all black and white, just as booran was when his death came to him suddenly out of the sky.
the blacks across the river were very much amazed. but when the great black pelican had sailed away, murla's husband swam across and got her 'possum rug, which he brought back, tied on top of his head. he gave it back to murla, and then beat her with his waddy for having been so careless as to leave it behind. so they lived happily ever after.
but the river took booran's little canoe and whisked it away. it bobbed upon the brown water like a walnut shell, spinning in the eddies, and sailing proudly where the water was clear and free. at each mile the river grew wider and fuller, and the little canoe sped onwards on its breast. then ahead came a long line of gleaming silver, and the river sang that it had nearly reached the sea. the light canoe rocked over the waters of the bar, but came safely through them; and then it floated away westward, into the sunset.
but the tide brought it back to shore, and the breakers took it and flung it on the rocks, pounding it on their sharp edges until it was no longer a canoe, but only a twisted bit of bark. the waves went back and left it lying on the beach; and some blacks who came along, hungry and cold, were very glad to find it and use it to start their fire, when it was dry. so booran's canoe was useful to the blacks until the very end.
