Goomblegubbon, Beeargah, and Ouyan

Goomblegubbon, Beeargah, and Ouyan

Far away in the Australian bush, among the dry grass, low trees and red earth, there were two small camps.

Goomblegubbon, a large bustard, lived in one camp. Nearby lived Beeargah the hawk, Ouyan the curlew, and Beeargah’s two children.

There was little water there. A small hole in the ground collected rainwater, and everyone knew well: when it was hot, every drop had to be saved.

One day, Beeargah and Ouyan wanted to prepare food from grain. They needed a deyorl—a heavy grinding stone used to crush dunburr grain for durrie cakes.

Goomblegubbon had the deyorl.

"Lend us the stone, please," Beeargah asked. "We need to cook food for the children."

"No," answered Goomblegubbon.

Ouyan was surprised.

“Are you using it now?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you give it to us for a while?”

“Because it’s my stone.”

Beeargah looked at his hearth. Goomblegubbon’s meal was already being prepared. The stone lay idle nearby.

“We’ll return it straight away,” she said again.

“I’ve already answered.”

The women left in silence.

The children were waiting in the camp.

“Will supper be ready soon?” asked the younger child.

Beeargah sat beside the child.

“Today we’ll have to make do with what we have.”

Ouyan stared at the small waterhole for a long time.

“This can’t go on,” she said quietly. “If someone has something we need to prepare food and won’t lend it even briefly just because it’s ‘mine’, tomorrow they may refuse us water or something else.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Beeargah replied. “We asked calmly, several times. He wouldn’t listen.”

They decided to travel to the great river and find a safer place for the children, somewhere they would not have to keep asking for the bare necessities.

For several days they prepared. They made sturdy water containers, gathered food, and checked that the children could manage the long journey.

In the morning, when Goomblegubbon had gone far from the camp, they gathered as much water as they could carry and set off.

At first the children ran merrily.

“Are we going to the river?”

“Yes.”

“Is it big?”

“Much bigger than our waterhole.”

“Are there trees there?”

“Yes.”

“And what about food?”

Ouyan smiled:

“Let’s get there first, then we’ll see.”

The day was getting hotter and hotter. The road was long. Beeargah and Ouyan took turns carrying things, giving the children small sips of water, and resting in the shade.

Finally, the river glistened ahead.

“Water!” the children shouted.

But their joy quickly turned to confusion. The river was wide, and Beeargah and Ouyan did not know how to swim across such places.

On the far bank, they saw two travellers. The travellers spotted the family and crossed over to meet them.

“Where are you coming from?” they asked.

Beeargah told them briefly about the camp, about the children, and about how they had decided to look for another place to live.

The travelers did not ask any unnecessary questions.

“On the other side there is a path to a place where you can rest,” said one of them. “We will help you cross.”

First they carried the children, then the things, and then they helped Beeargah and Ouyan across.

On the other bank, everyone finally sat down in the shade.

The younger child snuggled against their mother.

“Are we far from home now?”

Beeargah was silent for a moment.

“Sometimes home is not where you came from. Home is where you can live without fear of being denied the most basic necessities.”

Meanwhile, Goomblegubbon had returned.

“Beeargah! Ouyan!” he called.

No one answered.

He approached their camp. It was empty.

He found tracks leading from the campsite towards the river and realised that everyone had left.

At first, Goomblegubbon was angry.

“How could they leave without me? They must come back!”

He grabbed his things and followed the trail.

But the longer he walked, the more the conversation from yesterday echoed in his head.

“Lend us the stone.”

“No.”

“Are you using it?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you lend it to us?”

“Because it’s mine.”

When Goomblegubbon reached the river, it was already evening.

The camp was still visible on the opposite bank. He recognized Beeargah, Ouyan, and the children.

“Come back!” he called.

They heard him, but did not move towards the water.

“I said, come back!”

Beeargah answered across the river:

“We asked you to listen to us before.”

“I will give you the stone!”

“It’s not just about the stone anymore.”

Goomblegubbon fell silent.

“What is it about, then?”

“Living together depends on asking ‘How can I help?’ rather than saying ‘Mine’. We don’t want to return to a place where we have to explain that every time.”

The sun set. The river darkened.

Goomblegubbon remained on his bank, because he also did not know how to swim across wide water.

In the morning he woke to find the camp across the river empty. The family had moved on. Their path disappeared beyond the dry plain, and Goomblegubbon could not catch them.

He sat by the river for a long time.

Beside him lay the deyorl he had brought along.

Yesterday this stone seemed very important to him, because it was his property.

Today it was just a heavy stone.

Goomblegubbon brushed his foot over its smooth surface and said softly:

“I should have lent it when they asked.”

But some things can’t be fixed by a belated promise.

Ever since, this old story has carried a simple reminder: when someone nearby asks to borrow something they truly need, the most precious thing may be the willingness to share it.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨