Bootoolgah and Goonur, the Fire Makers (Campfire Story)

Long ago, nobody had fire. People ate their food raw, or dried it in the sun.

And one day, Bootoolgah the crane was rubbing two sticks together. RUB! And he saw a little spark. And a little smoke.

'Look,' he said to his wife, Goonur the kangaroo rat. 'Look what comes when I rub these sticks.'

And Goonur was clever. 'Split your stick,' she said, 'and put some dry grass and bark in the crack. Then even one spark might catch.'

So he did. RUB! RUB! And the spark caught the grass, and the bark smoked, and a little flame jumped up. And Bootoolgah and Goonur had made the first fire.

'We'll keep this a secret,' they said. 'From everyone.' So whenever they caught fish, they went off into the thick scrub, and made a fire in secret, and cooked their fish. And they always carried one fire-stick hidden in Goonur's bag.

But when they came back to camp, the other people noticed. 'Your fish looks different. What did you do to it?'

'We dried it in the sun,' said Bootoolgah.

'No, you didn't.'

So the people sent Boolooral the owl and Quarrian the parrot to follow them. And the two birds hid in a tall tree, and watched. And they saw Bootoolgah and Goonur take a stick from the bag, and blow on it, and make fire, and cook their fish. And the birds flew back and told everyone.

Then the people made a plan. 'We'll hold a corroboree,' they said. 'The biggest dance there has ever been. Something so wonderful that Bootoolgah and Goonur will forget all about their bag. And when they do, somebody will grab it.'

And they chose Beeargah the hawk. 'Tie up your head,' they said, 'and pretend you're sick. Lie down near them, and watch. And when they're not looking, grab the bag.'

So they invited all the tribes from all around. And everybody came, painted their brightest. The black cockatoos with orange-red splashes. The pelicans painted almost pure white. The parrots in green and crimson. And last of all, the brolgas, the great tall dancing cranes, the best dancers of all.

And Bootoolgah and Goonur came too, and sat down to watch, with the bag on Goonur's arm. 'Don't forget the bag,' said Bootoolgah. And beside them lay Beeargah the hawk, with his head tied up, moaning, pretending to be sick.

And the dancing began. DANCE! DANCE!

Once, the bag slipped off Goonur's arm. But Bootoolgah saw it, and put it back. And Beeargah, who had been just about to grab it, lay back down and moaned.

And then it was the brolgas' turn. They came into the ring, tall and solemn. They bowed. They stepped back. They bowed again. And then faster, and faster, spinning and stretching out their long necks, and kicking up their long legs, all with perfectly serious faces. DANCE! And it was so funny that the whole crowd roared. LAUGH!

And Goonur laughed so hard she threw herself back on the ground. LAUGH! And the bag slid off her arm.

And up jumped the sick man. Beeargah the hawk grabbed the bag, cut it open, snatched out the fire-stick, and set fire to a heap of grass. And off he ran, setting the grass on fire everywhere he went.

Bootoolgah chased him. But the hawk was too fast. And when Bootoolgah looked around, there were fires everywhere. And he knew there was no point chasing anymore. The secret was out.

And from that day, fire belonged to everyone.