Waung went proudly back to the tribe, and when they saw that he had actually stolen Fire from the women, they were both glad and astonished, and clustered round him, calling him many pleasant things. Waung was quite ready to listen to them; but he had no intention of being generous now that he had brought Fire with him. He saw his way to a lazy life, and he was not the man to lose such a good chance.

So after they had praised him very loudly and sung loud songs about his bravery and wit, he went off into his wurley, and put Fire in a hole in the ground. Then he sat in the doorway and carved a boomerang.

The people looked at each other, not knowing what to do next.

"How is this?" they said. "Will he not give Fire to us all?"

No one could answer this question. They chattered together for a while. Then one said, "What is worth having is worth asking for"; and he went up to Waung\'s wurley and greeted him civilly.

"Good-day, Waung," he said. "Will you give me some fire to do my cooking?"

"I have only enough for myself," said Waung, and went on with his carving.

"But Fire grows, if you will let it," said the man. "Will you not make it grow, so that each of us may have some?"

"I cannot spare any," was all that Waung would answer. So the man went back to his friends, and told them what Waung said. Then one after another came to Waung, and begged him for a little bit of Fire. But the reply was always the same, and they went away, very sorry that they had ever laughed at Waung. For now he remembered the laughter, and he determined to have his revenge.

In the morning, when the tribe was astir they found that Waung had made a very large oven in front of his wurley, and had hid Fire there. Also he had caught a wallaby in his snare, and all the air was full of the fragrant smell of cooking. It made all the people\'s mouths water, and they hated Waung exceedingly. But they feared that with the Kar-ak-ar-ook\'s Fire Waung had also captured their Magic, and so they did not dare to attack him.

So they held a council together, and all talked very fast and angrily: but at the end of it, there was nothing accomplished. Talking did not mend the matter at all, and against Magic, what could anyone do? Then a woman came running, and said she had a message, and though women were not supposed to speak in council, she was told to deliver it at once.

"Waung says he will cook our food!" said she, and stopped for breath. A great shout of joy went up from the men.

"But he will not do it for nothing," went on the woman. At this all their faces lengthened suddenly. The blacks stopped in the middle of their joyful shout, and waited with their mouths wide open to hear what was to follow.

"He says he will cook for us. But we are to supply him with food, and firewood, and all that he wants, and he will keep for himself all the food he likes best. And if we do not perform all that he tells us to do, he will take Fire away altogether."

There was silence when the woman had finished speaking, and then a deep groan of anger went up from the people. They all talked very fast again, each trying to speak more loudly than the others, all except the husband of the woman who had brought the news, and he was busy beating her with his waddy because she had brought so insolent a message, and had allowed them to think at first that it was good news. The poor lubra tried to say that they had not given her time to say it all at once, but the husband was too busy to listen. But neither talking nor beating made the matter any better.

So Waung became the real ruler of the tribe, in everything but name, since food is the most important thing in the world to the blacks, and the greater part of their food became dependent upon him. Nothing could be cooked unless Waung would do it, and they soon found that unless he were in a good temper he would not do it at all. He took the best parts of all that they brought to him to cook, so that no man knew what he would get back; and when one took a fat young wallaby or a black duck it was quite likely that Waung would give him something tough and stringy when he went back for his cooked meal, declaring that it was what he had left in his oven. Neither would he take any trouble over the cooking. The people brought their food, and put it in the oven themselves, and Waung took it out when it pleased him. Sometimes he did not take it out until it was burned black and tasteless, while at others they would find it only half-cooked, and cold. But no amount of talking would make Waung alter his ways, and at last he became so proud that if anyone argued with him he would refuse to cook for a week, except for himself. This naturally stopped all argument in the camp, but it did not make the people love Waung any better.

He grew very fat and lazy, for he ate huge quantities of food, and very seldom went out of his wurley. When he did, he carried Fire with him in a little hollow stick, and no one dared go near him, or near his wurley, for fear of his enchantments. As a matter of fact, Waung had no enchantments at all, and no Magic. But he was very cunning, and he knew how easy it was to make the blacks think he had amazing powers. The magic-men, too, found that none of their spells had any effect upon Waung, and so they told the tribe that he certainly had magic help. It was very convenient to be able to say this when they were beaten, for Magic was a thing that could not possibly be argued about.

The months went by, and the people became very unhappy. Waung\'s evil temper made them all miserable and afraid. There have been many bad kings in history, but only Waung ever had the power of depriving all his people of their dinner, if they failed to please him. It is a very terrible punishment when it is inflicted often, especially when dinner is the only meal of the day. Now that the people had grown used to cooked food, they did not like raw meat; so they depended on Waung\'s mercy. And Waung had very little mercy. It amused him greatly to see the people hungry and to have them come begging to him to cook their food. He would laugh loud and long, reminding them of the time when they had jeered at him about Fire. Afterwards, he would go into his wurley and sleep, saying, "Fire is asleep to-day, and I cannot wake it."

At last, Pund-jel, Maker of Men, looked down at the world and saw how unhappy the blacks were under the cruelties of Waung. It made him very angry. He was stern and hard himself, but he saw no reason why this fellow, lazy and ill-natured, should make his people hungry and miserable. So he sent a message to the ear of each man in the tribe, telling him what to do.

The blacks thought they had dreamed the message. They woke in the morning, confused and angry, they hardly knew why; and each man said to his neighbour, "I have dreamed about Waung," and the other would answer, "I, too, have dreamed about him." They gathered into groups, talking about Waung and about the dream that had come to them; and then the groups began to drift towards Waung\'s wurley.

Waung looked out, and saw them coming. At once he became uneasy, for he knew that he had never seen such threatening faces and angry eyes. It made him afraid, and he began to put Fire to heat his oven, which had been cold for five days.

The blacks came close to the wurley, growling and muttering. They circled round, still half-afraid. Then one, suddenly becoming brave, shouted a word of angry abuse at Waung; and that was all the others wanted. They joined the first man in loud and threatening shouts and fierce abuse, casting at him every evil name they could think of, and saying that the time had come for him to answer for his bad deeds. Then one picked up a stone and flung it at him, hitting him on the shoulder.

Waung had no weapons outside his wurley. He became terrified, gazing round him with hopeless eyes that saw no way of escape. Then he stooped to his oven, and saw that Fire lay there in a mass of red coals.

"I will give you back Fire!" he shouted.

He thrust a flat stone into the coals, and with it flung Fire far and wide among the blacks. Some of it hit the men and burned them, as he hoped, but others picked it up and ran with it to their wurleys, so that they might never again be without it in their homes. To and fro in the air the burning pieces flew as Waung hurled them from him. So fast they fell that the people were almost afraid again. It seemed as though Waung were making Fire, so that he might fight them with it.

And then a strange thing happened.

All the coals that had fallen in the dry grass nearest the wurley turned and began to burn back towards Waung. They met in a circle of flame. Gradually it burned until it came to the wurley, and there it wrapped Waung, and his oven, and all that belonged to him, in a sheet of flame. Out of it came Waung\'s dreadful cries for help; but no man dared go near the fire, nor would anyone have lifted a finger to help Waung.

The people huddled together, watching, in great fear. Soon the cries ceased, and then the smoke and flame died away, so that they saw the body of Waung, lying across the stones of his oven. He was quite black, like a cinder. The tribe uttered a long shout of triumph, for they knew that he could trouble them no more.

Then they heard the voice of Pund-jel, speaking to the thing that lay across the stones.

"Fire has made you black," said the voice. "Now you shall be black for ever, and no longer a man. Instead, you shall be a crow, to fly about for ever and utter cries, so that when the people see you they will remember how they were foolishly in bondage to you and your cruelties."

The people cast themselves down, in terror at the voice. A drifting cloud of smoke floated from the smouldering ashes of the wurley and blotted everything out.

When they looked again, it had lifted, and blown away into the skies. The thing that had lain on the stones was no longer there. But from the limb of a boobyalla tree close by came a harsh croak and, looking, they saw a big black crow that flapped its wings, and looked at them with sullen eyes. Then it said, "Waa-a-a! Waa-a-a-a!" and, rising from the tree, it flew lazily across to a great blackbutt, where it perched on the topmost bough, still croaking evilly. And the people, glad, yet afraid, clustered together, muttering, "See! It is Waung!"