THE BUNYIP

Edition and rights: Original English text from Project Gutenberg ebook #31201, marked public domain in the USA. The literary text below is reproduced without AI rewriting.

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Long, long ago, far, far away on the other side of the
world, some young men left the camp where they lived
to get some food for their wives and children. The sun
was hot, but they liked heat, and as they went they ran
races and tried who could hurl his spear the farthest, or
was cleverest in throwing a strange weapon called a
boomerang, which always returns to the thrower. They
did not get on very fast at this rate, but presently they
reached a flat place that in time of flood was full of water,
but was now, in the height of summer, only a set of pools,
each surrounded with a fringe of plants, with bulrushes
standing in the inside of all. In that country the people
are fond of the roots of bulrushes, which they think as
good as onions, and one of the young men said that they
had better collect some of the roots and carry them back
to the camp. It did not take them long to weave the
tops of the willows into a basket, and they were just
going to wade into the water and pull up the bulrush
roots when a youth suddenly called out: ‘After all, why
should we waste our time in doing work that is only fit
for women and children? Let them come and get the
roots for themselves; but we will fish for eels and anything
else we can get.’

This delighted the rest of the party, and they all began
to arrange their fishing lines, made from the bark of the
yellow mimosa, and to search for bait for their hooks.
Most of them used worms, but one, who had put a piece
of raw meat for dinner into his skin wallet, cut off a
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little bit and baited his line with it, unseen by his companions.

For a long time they cast patiently, without receiving
a single bite; the sun had grown low in the sky, and it
seemed as if they would have to go home empty-handed,
not even with a basket of roots to show; when the youth,
who had baited his hook with raw meat, suddenly saw
his line disappear under the water. Something, a very
heavy fish he supposed, was pulling so hard that he
could hardly keep his feet, and for a few minutes it
seemed either as if he must let go or be dragged into the
pool. He cried to his friends to help him, and at last,
trembling with fright at what they were going to see,
they managed between them to land on the bank a
creature that was neither a calf nor a seal, but something
of both, with a long, broad tail. They looked at each
other with horror, cold shivers running down their
spines; for though they had never beheld it, there was
not a man amongst them who did not know what it was—the
cub of the awful Bunyip!

All of a sudden the silence was broken by a low wail,
answered by another from the other side of the pool, as
the mother rose up from her den and came towards them,
rage flashing from her horrible yellow eyes. ‘Let it go!
let it go!’ whispered the young men to each other; but
the captor declared that he had caught it, and was going
to keep it. ‘He had promised his sweetheart,’ he said,
‘that he would bring back enough meat for her father’s
house to feast on for three days, and though they could not
eat the little Bunyip, her brothers and sisters should have
it to play with.’ So, flinging his spear at the mother to keep
her back, he threw the little Bunyip on to his shoulders,
and set out for the camp, never heeding the poor mother’s
cries of distress.

By this time it was getting near sunset, and the plain
was in shadow, though the tops of the mountains were
still quite bright. The youths had all ceased to be afraid,

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when they were startled by a low rushing sound behind
them, and, looking round, saw that the pool was slowly
rising, and the spot where they had landed the Bunyip
was quite covered. ‘What could it be?’ they asked
one of another; ‘there was not a cloud in the sky,
yet the water had risen higher already than they had
ever known it do before.’ For an instant they stood
watching as if they were frozen, then they turned and
ran with all their might, the man with the Bunyip running
faster than all. When he reached a high peak overlooking
all the plain he stopped to take breath, and
turned to see if he was safe yet. Safe! why only the
tops of the trees remained above that sea of water, and
these were fast disappearing. They must run fast indeed
if they were to escape. So on they flew, scarcely feeling
the ground as they went, till they flung themselves on
the ground before the holes scooped out of the earth
where they had all been born. The old men were sitting
in front, the children were playing, and the women
chattering together, when the little Bunyip fell into their
midst, and there was scarcely a child among them who
did not know that something terrible was upon them.
‘The water! the water!’ gasped one of the young men;
and there it was, slowly but steadily mounting the ridge
itself. Parents and children clung together, as if by that
means they could drive back the advancing flood; and the
youth who had caused all this terrible catastrophe, seized
his sweetheart, and cried: ‘I will climb with you to the top
of that tree, and there no waters can reach us.’ But, as he
spoke, something cold touched him, and quickly he glanced
down at his feet. Then with a shudder he saw that they
were feet no longer, but bird’s claws. He looked at the
girl he was clasping, and beheld a great black bird
standing at his side; he turned to his friends, but a
flock of great awkward flapping creatures stood in their
place. He put up his hands to cover his face, but they
were no more hands, only the ends of wings; and when
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he tried to speak, a noise such as he had never heard
before seemed to come from his throat, which had suddenly
become narrow and slender. Already the water
had risen to his waist, and he found himself sitting easily
upon it, while its surface reflected back the image of a
black swan, one of many.

Never again did the swans become men; but they are
still different from other swans, for in the night-time those
who listen can hear them talk in a language that is certainly
not swan’s language; and there are even sounds of
laughing and talking, unlike any noise made by the swans
whom we know.

The little Bunyip was carried home by its mother, and
after that the waters sank back to their own channels.
The side of the pool where she lives is always shunned
by everyone, as nobody knows when she may suddenly
put out her head and draw him into her mighty jaws.
But people say that underneath the black waters of the
pool she has a house filled with beautiful things, such as
mortals who dwell on the earth have no idea of. Though
how they know I cannot tell you, as nobody has ever
seen it.

[From Journal of Anthropological Institute.]

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