In the hard famine time, in the long drought
Bwalla the hunter on walkabout,
Lubra and children following slow,
All proper hungry long time now.
No more kangaroo out on the plain,
Gone to other country where there was rain.
Couldn't find emu, couldn't find seed,
And the children all time cry for feed.
They saw great eagle come through the sky
To his big stick gunya in a gum near by,
Fine young wallaby carried in his feet:
He bring tucker for his kids to eat.
Big fella eagle circled slow,
Little fella eagles fed below.
‘Gwa!’ said Bwalla the hunter, ‘he
Best fella hunter, better than me.'
He dropped his boomerang. ‘Now I climb,
All share tucker in the hungry time.
We got younks too, we got need—
You make fire and we all have feed.'
Then up went Bwalla like a native cat,
All the blackfellows climb like that.
And when he look over big nest rim
Those young ones all sing out at him.
They flapped and spat, they snapped and clawed,
They plenty wild with him, my word,
They shrilled at tucker-thief big and brown,
But Bwalla took wallaby and then climbed down.