tribes hold in honour, have thrice bade you Mahthi cease your chatter
and laughter. But you heeded me not. To my voice were added the voices
of the Wirreenun of other tribes. But you heeded not. Think you the
Wirreenun will make any of your tribe young men when you heed not their
words? No, I tell you. From this day forth no Mahthi shall speak again
as men speak. You wish to make noise, to be a noisy tribe and a
disturber of men; a tribe who cannot keep quiet when strangers are in
the camp; a tribe who understand not sacred things. So be it. You
shall, and your descendants, for ever make a noise, but it shall not be
the noise of speech, or the noise of laughter. It shall be the noise of
barking and the noise of howling. And from this day if ever a Mahthi
speaks, woe to those who hear him, for even as they hear shall they be
turned to stone."

And as the Mahthi opened their mouths, and tried to laugh and speak
derisive words, they found, even as Byamee said, so were they. They
could but bark and howl; the powers of speech and laughter had they
lost. And as they realised their loss, into their eyes came a look of
yearning and dumb entreaty which will be seen in the eyes of their
descendants for ever. A feeling of wonder and awe fell on the various
camps as they watched Byamce march back to his tribe.

When Byamee was seated again in his camp, he asked the women why they
were not grinding doonburr. And the women said: "Gone are our dayoorls,
and we know not where."

"You lie," said Byamee. "You have lent them to the Dummerh, who came so
often to borrow, though I bade you not lend."

"No, Byamee, we lent them not."