# Folk-Lore/Volume 20/The Wallaroo and the Willy-wagtail

The Wallaroo and the Willy-wagtail: A Queensland Folk-Tale.
The following tale was collected by me from the aborigines near the Upper Condamine river in Queensland.
An old wallaroo, who was too infirm to hunt, used to have his camp at the butt of a big tree growing on a rocky ridge. He had a habit of sitting and lashing the ground with his great tail. One day a padamelon, who belonged to the Dyerwine section, was passing near the place, and, hearing this beating upon the ground, shouted out "Ha-a!" and the wallaroo answered in the same way, but in a very plaintive tone, as if he were very sick. The padamelon came up to him, and enquired what was the matter, and the wallaroo replied that he was too ill to do any hunting himself, but that his mates had gone down to the river to catch some fish for him, as he was very hungry. The padamelon said,—"I'll go and find your friends, and try to bring you some food," and started off. When he got about twenty yards away, the wallaroo called after him,—"You had better take my boomerang with you in case you may see some game as you go along." The padamelon said,—"All right, throw it here," and stood where he was. This was the opportunity the wallaroo was watching for, so he threw the boomerang with all his force, and with good aim, and killed the padamelon. He then made a hole in the ground in which he roasted his game, and had a great feast, greasing himself from head to foot with the padamelon's kidney fat.
As the padamelon did not return to the camp of his own people in a day or two's time, one of his nephews, an iguana, said,—"I must go and see if I can find my uncle; something must have happened to him." So away he went, following his uncle's tracks, till by and by he heard heavy thumping on the ground, and on getting within speaking distance he called out the same as his uncle had done, and the wallaroo answered him in the same doleful accents that he had used to his first victim, and kept on beating his tail on the ground as if he were in great ​distress. The iguana, being a kind-hearted fellow, came up and asked him the cause of his grief, and the wallaroo repeated the same story that he had told his uncle, with the same result. When the iguana had gone a little distance, the wallaroo repeated the offer of the boomerang, and the iguana, on standing still to catch it, was killed and eaten in the same way that his uncle had been disposed of.
Several different animals went in search of the padamelon at various times, but none of them ever returned to their own camp, and their friends held a council to determine what should be done. The willy-wagtail, who was a medicine-man and a very clever fellow, volunteered to go out and endeavour to ascertain the fate of his comrades. He belonged to the section Bunda, and was one of the nephews of the padamelon, and resolved to avenge his death, and that of his fellows. At daylight next morning he started off, and about the middle of the day his attention was arrested by the heavy thuds of the wallaroo's tail upon the ground. He approached the spot warily, because his suspicions had been aroused by the strange disappearance of the other members of his tribe, and enquired of the wallaroo what was the matter with him, and was answered in the usual sorrowful tone, and the same delusive story was reiterated. The willy-wagtail volunteered to go and find the fishermen, and, when he got the usual distance away, the wallaroo proffered the use of his boomerang. The willy-wagtail, suspecting foul play, said,—"Throw it to me, and I'll catch it," but kept a vigilant eye upon the thrower. Being very quick and active, he leapt to one side, and the boomerang went past him. The wallaroo threw some nulla nullas and two or three spears, but the willy-wagtail jumped out of the way of every one.
When the wallaroo had exhausted his stock of weapons, the willy-wagtail picked up the boomerang from where it had fallen, and threw it with all his force, striking the wallaroo a mortal blow, and splitting his chest open, which accounts for the streak of white fur on the breasts of all wallaroos ever since. He then roasted his enemy in the same hole which had been used in cooking his victims. While he was being cooked, the willy-wagtail kept beating two sticks together and singing,—"You are ​the fellow who killed and ate my people! You will not do it any more!"
After he had dined heartily on the choicest parts of the wallaroo, and anointed his body with the fat, he proceeded to the river, where he saw the people whom the wallaroo had said were fishing there, and enquired if they had seen anything of the padamelon and other friends who were missing. They replied,—"No! that old rogue the wallaroo must have killed and eaten them. He is no friend of ours." The willy-wagtail told them how he had killed and roasted their common enemy, and they were pleased to hear it. After that he returned to his own people, who were all very glad to learn that he had avenged the death of their friends, and he became a chief man in the tribe, and had four young wives. All the old men assembled in council, and decided that in future no man should go alone, either hunting game, or to search for missing friends, or on a hostile expedition, but that two or more should always proceed together, a custom which has been followed to the present time.
R. H. Mathews.