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Banfield, E. J. (Edmund James), 1852-1923

"Confessions of a Beachcomber"

No, you run away. Come up; pull out spear, quick fella!'
Billy run away. Me sit down quiet. No make noise. Me hear that fella cry,
cry, sing out like anything. He carn walk about. Me go quiet along a
grass long way. Come round 'nother side. That boy no bin see me. Bi'mby
me see gins--big mob. Sing out--'One fella boy bin catch 'em spear. He very
bad. Close up dead now.' Billy plant himself long way. Boys and gins
come up, where boy sing out. 'Carry 'em alonga camp.' Me go long way,
where auntie belonga me sit down. That spear cartn pull 'em out. He got
hook. All a time that boy sing out, 'Pull out spear.' Bi'mby Billy come
back. He very sorry. He say--'Me no wan' spear you. Me no look out you.
Me wan' catch 'em wallaby.' That boy say, 'All ri, Billy. You good mate
belonga me.' Three days that spear inside yet. Me come alonga camp. That
boy look 'em all ri'. Me say--'Me very sorry. Me think you dead now.' He
say--'Me no dead. Me feel all ri'. Me want pull out spear.' Old men
pull out hard. Carn shift 'em. Old men say--'We cut 'em now.' Get knife,
sharpen 'em, cut 'em, cut 'em, cut 'em. Three strong boys pull 'em
spear. Pull 'em hard altogether.


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