THE CORROBOREE 121 



while the lady, whom niggardly Nature had denied the 

 grace of blushing, passively went to the victor. 



Among the strangers to the coast was an old man but 

 a yard and a quarter high, with unkempt, grisly beard, 

 a head which needed not the glorification of cockatoo's 

 down, long, thin arms, huge hands, thick, stump legs, 

 and sprawling feet. No far-reaching crab of the reef 

 just showing its worn brown tusks off-shore was more 

 grotesque of mien and gait. To emphasise his malignant 

 mood, he carried a huge boomerang, which seemed to 

 obey and embody his whims. It sprang from his power- 

 ful hands in resolute and impetuous flight, whirred 

 threateningly overhead, and returned to foot, fluttering 

 and purring, as if endowed with affection for its un- 

 lovable master. None so mastered the missile; but for 

 all his weird influence over it, he was subject to the 

 restraints of another weapon which seldom left his 

 hands. Is there not a spiritual law which imposes 

 checks on the bombastic tricks of crude and cultured 

 alike, or was it by force of gravity that the point of the 

 dwarf's long and slender spear dipped into the ground, 

 punctuating mock martial struts with perverse irregu- 

 larity ? Prodigious in his own estimation, his jibes and 

 taunts were almost as terrifying as the erratic flights of 

 his boomerang; for the dwarf was a privileged indivi- 

 dual, the Thersites of the campaign, and with one 

 advantage over his prototype — he really wanted to 

 fight. So he swaggered, heeding not the reproving 

 spear ; he fumed ; he mocked ; for no warrior affected to 

 notice his vainglorious absurdities. He was as much 

 in earnest as those who fought on account of elemental 

 love, and far more so than any of the blusterers who 

 talked big and looked small. He longed to fight, and 

 for money. 



Each warrior was challenged individually, and when 



