The Native Bear, Kur-bo-roo, is the sage counselor of the Aborigines in all their difficulties. When bent on a dangerous expedition, the men will seek help from this clumsy creature, but in what way his opinions are made known is nowhere recorded. He is revered if not held sacred. The Aborigines may eat him, but they many not skin him as they skin the kangaroo and the opposum.

Smyth vouched for this belief when he recalled that, sad to say, he wanted a koala to make a cap from the skin. One day when an Aboriginal had brought in a koala to the camp before the rest of the Aborigines had returned to the encampment Smyth inquired about skinning it and recorded that:

He refused to skin it; but at length, by giving him presents, and showing him that no harm could come of the act, because all the sorcerers and all the blacks who could communicate with the sorcerers and other chief men were absent, he took off the skin and gave it to me. I took the skin to my tent, and meant to make it into a cap, but the young man became very restless. Remorse overtook him. He could not put the skin on again, not indeed had he wished to do so, would I have given it up. He said, “Poor blacks lose ‘em all water now,’ and he became very much alarmed and exhibited such contrition and terror, that the old doctors came to enquire into the cause. He told all. Much excitement followed. I said that the blacks had nothing to fear. I laughed at their terrors; but at length I was obliged to give them the skin. The skin and the bear were buried in the same manner in which a black man was buried. Though the bear was actually roasting, his body was taken away and buried in the skin. This ceremony they believed would precipitate the bears, and avert the calamity of a loss of water.

Jackson, Stephen. Koala : Origins of an Icon. Belmont: Allen & Unwin, 2008.

When the first people arrived, the country seemed new and strange, with narrow gorges and the towering sandstone cliffs of Boodyadella, the main dividing range. The people came to love these craggy ranges, but were sad that no trees or grass grew.

Some animals were already living in the ranges–Ngaargoo the grey kangaroo, Waarunn the wallaby and Didane the koala. They, too, were sad about the dry treeless land.

The tribal elders met to discuss the problem. They wanted to bring trees and plants to this beautiful country. But how? One wise elder suggested they try to get seeds from the trees growing in the sky. Perhaps a strong boomerang thrower could hit the trees and knock down the seeds.

The warriors of the tribe were called together, and the elders told them of their plan. All the warriors wanted to help. Each thought he would be the one to knock down the seeds.

The whole tribe gathered round. One by one, the warriors moved to the centre of the group and threw their boomerangs as hard as they could.

As the people watched in silence, the boomerangs swirled upwards into the sky, but then fell back earth.

After the last boomerang fell, the worried elders sat down again and talked about the problem. One wise old man with a white beard suggested they ask Didane the koala for help. With his broad chest and powerful arms the koala must be a good boomerang thrower.

Didane agreed to try. His friends Ngaargoo and Waarunn came with him to the place where the tribe had gathered. Didade brought his largest war boomerang. Silence fell on the group as he prepared to throw it.

With a tremendous swing Didane hurled his huge boomerang up into the sky. Its swishing sound faded away as it passed through the clouds and out of sight. All eyes were fixed on the sky as they waited for the boomerang to return.

They waited a long time. The boomerang seemed lost forever. Some of the women began to weep. They knew that if Didane’s powerful boomerang could not reach the trees there would be no hope for their land.

Suddenly a shower of seeds began to fall. Seeds of every kind, large and small, rained down on the hot, dry earth.

With shouts of joy the people began to dance around Didane. The was now a hear. Soon the rain came, cooling the land and filling the rivers. The seeds knocked from the sky by Didane’s boomerang began to grow in the fertile soil.

Jackson, Stephen. Koala : Origins of an Icon. Belmont: Allen & Unwin, 2008.

Source: Walsh, G.L. (1985), <i>Didane the Koala,</i> Brisbane University of Queensland Press, pp. 2-36.

During a drought the animals noted that Koala never seemed to suffer from thirst. Suspecting he had concealed a supply of water for his own use and was unwilling to share with others, they searched high and low. Various birds and animals maintained a watch on his movements day and night, but without success until Lyre-bird saw him scrabbling up a tree and hanging head downwards from one of the branches. In those far-off days Koala was equipped with a tail which proved useful in climbing and allowed him to perform gymnastic feats that his descendants are no longer able to imitate. Curious to know why the little animal had adopted such a curious posture, Lyre-bird crept close. It did not surprise him to find that Koala was sipping water that had collected in the fork of a tree.

It occurred to him that the tree might be hollow and filled with water. As he was unable to reach the branch where Koala was hanging and had no axe with which to fell the tree, he scuttled back to camp and brought a firestick, with which to set the tree alight.  The result was spectacular. The trunk burst into little pieces, releasing the water in a miniature torrent. Birds and animals plunged into the water that collected at the foot of the tree and, for the first time in many days, slaked their thirst.

The events of the day left their mark on Lyre-bird and Koala. If one looks closely at the tail feathers of a lyre-bird, it will be seen that there are brown marks on the outer edges where the feathers were scorched by the flaming firestick.

The result of the conflageration had a far more serious effect on Koala. As the flames shot upwards his tail was consumed. He saved himself by scrambling into the branches of an adjacent tree, but ever after he had to learn to live without a tail.

Jackson, Stephen. Koala : Origins of an Icon. Belmont: Allen & Unwin, 2008.

Source: Reed, A.W. (1965), <i> Aboriginal Fables and Legendary Tales,</i> Sydney: A.H. & A.W. Reed pp. 69-71

On an island far distant from the continent that is now called Australia were men who were skilled throwers of boomerangs. They were able to split a small stone at a hundred paces or more, bring down the swiftest bird flight, and send their boomerangs so far away they were lost to sight before returning to the thrower.

They loved to engage in contests of skill to show how far or how accurately they could hurl their weapons. Among them was one who was noted for his strength and also for his boasting.

He was often heard to say, “If I wished, I could throw my boomerang from here to the most distant of all islands.”

“If you were able to do that, how would you know whether you had succeeded?” asked one of the more skeptical men.

“The answer to that is simple,” the strong man replied.

“What happens when boomerangs are thrown?”

“They come back to the thrower, of course.”

“What happens if the boomerang hits a tree or a rock?”

“The boomerang stays there, especially if it breaks.”

“You have answered your question,” the strong man said with a grin. “If I throw my boomerang as far as the farthest island and it fails to return, then you will know I’ve succeeded, won’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose that is so, but what’s the use of talking about it unless you actually do it?”

“Very well,” the strong man said, “watch.”

He chose a well-balanced boomerang. Whirling it round his head several times, he released it. The weapon flew from this hand so quickly that few could see it as it sped across the ocean. Expectantly the onlookers waited, but as the hours dragged by without any sign of its return, even the old-man skeptic was forced to agree that it might have landed on a distant island.

“But there’s another possibility,” he said, annoyed by the way the strong man was strutting to and fro, winning admiring glances from the women. “It may have landed in the sea.”

“Not my boomerange!” the strong man shouted. “It would cut its way back to me through the sea if it had not reached the island. You are jealous of my skill, old man.”

“There’s only one way that we can know for sure,” was the reply. “Someone must go there to see if he can find it.”

“I know how we can do it,” a small boy piped up. The old man looked at him disapprovingly.

“We’ve heard too much from you already,” he growled. “It would be much better if you ate the food you’re given like the other children. I’ve seen how you spit food out of your mouth–food that’s good for you as well as good to eat.”

“That’s because no one has ever brought me a Koala to eat. That’s what I like best.”

“How can you know you’ll like it if you’ve never tasted it?”

“How do you know there’s an island far away over the sea if you’ve never seen it?” the boy asked cheekily.

“Because I know it’s there. It is part of what men who lived and died before I was born have said,” the old man replied.

“I expect they liked Koala meat too,” the boy said. “My sister’s husband caught one this morning. There it is, beside that tree.”

The old man picked up the animal and threw it at the youngster, knocking him over. Picking himself up, he snatched the body of the Koala and ran with it to the beach. Taking a flint knife from the skin girdle he wore, he slit the belly and drew out its intestines. Putting the end in his mouth, he blew into them until they swelled into a long tube that reached the sky. He kept on blowing. The tube bent over in a majestic arch, its end far out of sight byond the curve of the ocean.

“What are you doing” the old man asked. “If you really want to taste the flesh of the Koala, take it to your mother and she will cook it for you.”

“No, no,” exclaimed the boy’s brother-in-law. “Look what he’s done. He’s made a bridge to the island beyond the sea. Now we can cross it and find where the boomerang has landed. It’s sure to be a better place than the one we’re living in now.”

He put his foot on the bridge of the intestines and began to climb the arch. Next came the boy, followed by his mother’s uncle, his father and mother, and aunts and brothers and sisters. Seeing that everyone was crowding on to the bridge of intestines, the old man followed too.

The crossing took many days, days without food and in the burning heat of the sun, but eventually they came to an end of climbing. They slid down the far end of the arch and found themselves on the far away island. It was a good place. The grass was greener than in their own land, shaded by gum trees, with cooler, clearer water than they had ever seen or tasted. And no wonder, for this land to which they come was the east coast of Australia.

When all the tribe’s people were there they let the arched bridge float away. The sun shone on it, turning it many gleaming colours which formed the first rainbow arch that had ever been seen by men. As they watched the brilliant colours, the rainbow slowly disappeared. The boy was turned into a Koala and his brother-in-law to a Native Cat. Although the other tribesmen remained unchanged, they split up into a number of groups, each with its own totem, and departed to various parts of the island continent. And so it was, said another old man, many generations later, that the first Aboriginals to come from another island became the progenitors of the various tribes which occupied the new land.

Jackson, Stephen. Koala : Origins of an Icon. Belmont: Allen & Unwin, 2008.

Source: Reed, A.W. (1978), <i>Aboriginal Legends: Animal Tales, <i>Sydney: A.H. & A.W. Reed, pp.37-9.

The starfish, a close friend of the whale, formed a plan with the other people to take the attention of the whale away from his canoe, and so give them a chance to steal it. One day, the starfish said to the whale: ‘You have a great many lice in your head; let me catch them and kill them for you.’ The whale, who had been much pestered with the parasites, readily agreed to his friend’s kind offer, and, tying up his canoe alongside a rock, they sat down. The starfish immediately gave the signal to some of the others, who assembled on the beach in readiness to sneak quietly into the canoe as soon as the whale was distracted.

The starfish rested the head of the whale in his lap and began to remove the lice from his head. The whale was lulled into passivity and did not notice the others quickly get into his canoe and push off shore. Now and then he would ask, ‘Is my canoe all right?’ The starfish in reply tapped a piece of loose bark near his leg and said, ‘Yes, this is it which I am tapping with my hand,’ and vigorously scratched near the whale’s ears so he could not hear the splashing of oars. This continued until the canoe was nearly out of sight, when suddenly the whale became agitated and jumped up. Seeing the canoe disappearing in the distance, he was furious at the betrayal of the starfish and beat him unmercifully. Jumping into the water, the whale then swam away after his canoe, and the starfish, mutilated and tattered, rolled off the rock on which they had been sitting, into the water, and lay on the sand at the bottom. It was this terrible attack of the whale which gave the starfish his present ragged appearance and his habit of keeping on the sea floor.

The whale pursued the canoe in a fury and spurted water into the air through the wound in the head he had received during his fight with the starfish, a practice which he has retained ever since. Although the whale swam strongly, the forearms of the koala pulled the oars with great strength for many days and nights until they finally sighted land and beached the canoe safely. The native companion bird, however, could not stay still and stamping his feet up and down made two deep holes in the canoe. As it was no longer of use, he pushed it a little way out to sea where it settled and became the small island known as Gan-man-gang near the entrance to the ocean of Lake Illawarra.

The whale, exhausted after his long swim, turned back along the coast. He still cruises there today with his descendants, spouting water furiously through the hole in his head.

Thurrawal tribe – from R.H. Mathews (Folklore of the Australian Aborigines)