threw his spear and killed it, then climbed down to go and get it. As he was running up to the dead emu, he saw that they were not emus at all, but black fellows of a strange tribe. They were all standing round their dead friend, making savage signs as to what they would do by way of vengeance. Wurrunnah saw that his only hope lay in flight. On he sped till he reached a camp, which he was almost into before he saw it. However, he had nothing to fear in the camp he reached so suddenly, for in it were only seven young girls. They did not look very terrifying, in fact, seemed more startled than he was. They were quite friendly towards him when they found he was alone and hungry. They gave him food, and allowed him to camp there that night. He asked them where the rest of their tribe were, and what their name was. They answered that their name was Meamei, and that their tribe were in a far country. They had only come to this country to see what it was like; they would stay for a while, and then return whence they had come.

The next day Wurrunnah made a fresh start, and left the camp of the Meamei, as if he were leaving for good. But he determined to hide near and watch what they did, and if he could get a chance he would steal a wife from amongst them. He was tired of travelling alone. He saw the seven sisters all start out with their yam sticks in hand. He followed at a distance, taking care not to be seen, He saw them stop by the nests of some flying ants. With their yam sticks they dug all round these ant-holes. When they had successfully unearthed the ants they sat down, throwing their yam sticks on one side, to enjoy a feast, for these ants were esteemed by them a great delicacy.

While the sisters were busy at their feast, Wurrunnah sneaked up to their yam sticks and stole two of them; then, taking the sticks with him, sneaked back to his hiding-place. When at length the Meamei had satisfied their appetites, they picked up their sticks and turned towards their camp again. But only five could find their sticks; so those five started off, leaving the other two to find theirs, supposing they must be somewhere near, and, finding them, they would soon catch them up. The two girls hunted all round the ants' nests, but could find no sticks. At last, when their backs were turned towards him, Wurrunnah crept out and stuck the lost yam sticks near together in the ground; then he slipt back into his hiding-place. When the two girls turned round, there in front of them they saw their sticks. With a cry of joyful surprise, they ran to them and caught hold of them, to pull them out of the ground, in which they were firmly stuck. As they were doing so, out from his hiding-place jumped Wurrunnah. He seized both girls round their waists, holding them tightly. They struggled and screamed, but to no purpose. Finding their screams and struggles in vain they quieted at length, and then Wurrunnah told them not to be afraid, he would take care of them. They must come quietly with him, and he would be good to them. But they must do as he told them. If they were not quiet, he would swiftly quieten them with his moorillah. Seeing that resistance was useless, the two young girls complied with his wish, and travelled quietly on with him. They told him that some day their tribe would come and steal them back again, to avoid which he travelled quickly on and on still further, hoping to elude all pursuit. Some weeks passed, and outwardly the two Meamei seemed settled down to their new life, and quite content in it; though when they were alone together they often talked of their sisters, and wondered what they had done when they realised their loss. They wondered if the five were still hunting for them, or whether they had gone back to their tribe to get assistance. That they might be in time forgotten and left with Wurrunnah for ever, they never once for a moment thought. One day, when they were camped, Wurrunnah said: "This fire will not burn well. Go you two and get some bark from those two pine trees over there." "No," they said, "we must not cut pine bark. If we did, you would never more

see us."

"Go! I tell you, cut pine bark. I want it. fire burns but slowly?"

"If we go, Wurrunnah, we shall never return.

See you not the

You will see us

Go, women, stay not to burn? Then why stand

Talk not so foolishly; if

no more in this country. We know it." talk. Did you ever see talk make a fire ye there talking? Go, do as I bid you. you ran away, soon should I catch you, and, catching you, would beat you hard. Go! talk no more."

The Meamei went, taking with them their combos with which to cut the bark. They went each to a different tree, and each with a strong hit drove her combo into the bark. As she did so, each felt the tree that her combo had struck rising higher out of the ground, and bearing her upward with it. Higher and higher grew the pine trees, and still on them, higher and higher from the earth, went the two girls. Hearing no chopping after the first hits, Wurrunnah came towards the pines to see what was keeping the girls so long. As he came near them, he saw that the pine trees were growing taller even as he looked at them, and clinging to the trunks of the trees, high in the air, he saw his two wives. He called to them to come down, but they made no answer. Time after time he called to them as higher they went, but still they made no answer. Steadily taller grew the two pines, until at last their tops touched the sky. As they did so, from the sky the five Meamei looked out, and called to their two sisters on the pine trees, bidding them not to be afraid but to come to them. Quickly the two girls climbed up when they heard the voices of their sisters. When they reached the tops of the pines, the five sisters in the sky stretched forth their hands, and drew them in to live with them there in the sky for ever.

And there, if you look, you may see the seven sisters together. You perhaps know them as the Pleiades, but the black fellows call them the Meamei.

Possibly many of the stories we have in Cornish and other European folk-lore are older than is supposed. Primitive ideas linger long among simple people. If we want to lift the veil as to how the very ancient people of Europe-aye, even of Great Britain-lived and thought, perhaps our best mode is by studying European folk-lore, and comparing it with the folk-tales of very primitive races, e.g., the American Indians or the Australians. Thus we may find that even the Australian legendary tales which have been recently collected may throw some light on what European society and thought some three thousand years ago may have been.

Two qualifications, however, must be considered in this matter :

1. The inhabitants of Britain must generally, on account of our climate, have worn clothes. The Britons who fought Cæsar were tattooed and stripped to fight; but at home and ordinarily our people must have been dressed in skins, or rough woven garments (tradition says the Cornish preferred black clothes).

2. The old Cornish people at a very early date lived in stone huts. Here stone was abundant and easy to procure. It was the best, and cheapest, and readiest material. Perhaps some of the stone huts of old Cornwall, e.g., Chysauster, are among the most ancient specimens of stone buildings in Western Europe. At an earlier age our people were cave-dwellers. Then the next stage was raising a sort of stone cave above the surface, and living in it, which thus represents the most ancient form of stone house.

These two points, the use of warm clothing (probably skins of animals), and of circular stone huts, were possibly the chief distinction between the aboriginal Briton or dolmen builder of the later Stone Age, and our fellow subject the Australian of the end of this nineteenth century. So in Australian folk-lore we may have some dim light thrown on prehistoric Britain in very early times.

The main points on which these contemporary traditions of men in a very primitive condition throw light on the thought and feeling of the early inhabitants of Europe, are therefore :

1. The confusion of men and animals. Can this be a key to the American-Indian totems? I think it throws light on the metamorphoses of Greek, early Italian, and ancient British mythologies. Mankind in a very early stage confused men and animals more than, in a higher stage of progress, we can think possible.

2. The turning men into stones. We have this in the Cornish tradition of the merry maidens or girls in dancing turned into stone (i.e., stone circles in Cornwall). In Australia we have it in the story of the "Mayamah".

THE MAYAMAH.

The blacks had all left their camp, and gone away to attend a borah. Nothing was left in the camp but one very old dog, too old to travel. After the blacks had been gone about three days, one night came their enemies, the Gooeeays, intending to surprise them and kill them.

Painted in all the glory of their war-paint came the Gooeeays; their hair tied in topknots and ornamented with feathers and kangaroo's teeth. Their waywahs of paddy, melon, and kangaroo rat-skins cut in strips round their waists, were new and strong, holding firmly some of their boomerangs and woggoorahs, which they had stuck through them.

But, prepared as they were for conquest, they found only a deserted camp, containing naught but one old dog. They asked the old dog where the blacks had gone; but he only shook his head. Again and again they asked him, and again and again he only shook his head. At last some of the black fellows raised their spears and their moorillahs or nullah-nullahs, saying:“If you do not tell us where the blacks are gone, we shall kill you." Then spoke the old dog, saying only: "Gone to the borah."

And as he spoke, every one of the Gooeeays and everything they had with them was turned to stone. Even the waywahs round their waists, the topknots on their heads, and the spears in their hands, even these turned to stone. And when the blacks returned to their camp long afterwards, when the borah was over, and the boys who had been made young men gone out into the bush to undergo their novitiate, each with his solitary guardian, then saw the blacks their enemies, the Gooeeays, standing round their old camp, as if to attack it. But, instead of being men of flesh, they were men of stone-they, their weapons, their waywahs, and all that belonged to them, stone. And at that place are to be found stones or mayamahs of great beauty, striped and marked and coloured as were the men painted. And the place of the Mayamah is on one of the mounts near Beemery.

3. The power of women in witchcraft, as in the story of "Goonur, the Woman-Doctor".

GOONUR, THE WOMAN-DOCTOR.

Goonur was a clever old woman-doctor, who lived with her son, Goonur, and his two wives. The wives were Guddah, the red lizard, and Beereeun, the small prickly lizard. One day the two wives had done something to anger Goonur, their husband, and he gave them both a great beating. After that beating they went away by themselves. They said to each other that they could stand their present life no longer, and yet there was no escape unless they killed their husband. They decided they would do that. But how? That was the question. It must be by cunning. At last they decided on a plan. They dug a big hole in the sand near the creek, filled it with water, and covered the hole over with boughs, leaves and grass.

"Now we will go," they said, "and tell our husband that we have found a big bandicoot's nest."

Back they went to the camp, and told Goonur that they had seen a big nest of bandicoots near the creek; that if he sneaked up he would be able to surprise them and get the lot. Off went Goonur in great haste. He sneaked up to within a couple of feet of the nest, then gave a spring on to the top of it. And only when he felt the bough top give in with him, and he sank down into water, did he realise that he had been tricked. Too late then to save himself, for he was drowning, and could not escape. His wives had watched the success of their stratagem from a distance. When they were certain that they had effectually disposed of their hated husband, they went back to the camp. Goonur, the mother, soon missed her son, made inquiries of his wives, but gained no information from them. Two or three days passed and yet Goonur, the son, returned not. Seriously alarmed at his long absence, the mother determined to follow his track. She took up his trail where she had last seen him leave the camp. This she followed till she reached the so-called bandicoot's nest. Here his tracks disappeared. She felt in the hole with her yam stick, and soon felt that there was something large in the water. She cut a forked stick, and tried to raise the body and get it out, for she felt sure it must be her son. But she could not raise it: stick after stick