I hear them chanting by the camp-fire's blaze
'Neath banyan trees
They told me stories where the she-oak sways
To the desert's breeze
How the Dog-maids snarled as they raced to slay;
And the Lightning-men turned night to day,
As Frog-men changed to hills, when they
Chanted the Rain-men's song.

How the puberty-maid was afraid, and danced
To the rainbow's sway.
Where Wulgaru capered, roared and pranced
To scare away
The tribal mothers who gathered seeds
From Mulga trees, the grass and reeds,
And grinding these for their daily needs
Spun yarns as old as time.