In those days when Pripriggy lived, there were no roads in the sky. The stars were then very young and bright and were bored alone, because there was no road in the sky along which they could go to visit each other and dance in the long dark nights.
This was the case before the Milky Way appeared.
But on earth people were happy, they often sang and danced around the fires on which game was roasted.
Roads stretched along the ground in all directions, smoothly trampled by the feet of friends.
Pripriggy lived on a long spit of land at the mouth of the Pine River. He was a singer and dancer. When the horns sounded in the darkness and his brothers in the tribe thickly painted themselves with sacred clay, Pripriggy began to sing a song and start dancing. And the songs that people sang were Pripriggy's songs, and the dances they danced were also created by Pripriggy. For this, people loved him, and he became strong, and proud, and happy from their respect.
One morning, when the flying foxes returned from hunting and the noise of their squabbling had died down, Pripriggy took his spear and wommer and went into the mangrove grove to look for prey.
There was going to be a big celebration that night. Many tribes gathered for the corroboree. At night, men will bang their spears, dance to the music of Priprigga, cheerfully slap their thighs and beat their heels.
His songs will make everyone happy and good, and people will dance as beautifully as he does. But a holiday requires food, and Pripriggy was also a good hunter.
The sky in the east had not yet turned red, the flying foxes were still hanging on the mangrove trees like black fruits, and Pripriggy silently crept up to the huge tree on which the largest and strongest flying foxes were sleeping. Great strength and power lay hidden in this tree.
Pripriggy hooked the womera on the end of his spear and leaned back to throw the spear. He lowered the spear and it flew up. A terrible noise and whistle came from the flapping of many wings. The mangrove trees swayed and hummed as if in a storm, but the angry flock screamed and squealed even louder.
Flying foxes swooped down from the tops of the mangrove trees. Like frightened spirits, they rushed between the branches.
They went down to Pripriggy, grabbed him and dragged him up. The foxes broke through the green curtain of foliage and flew into the sky. The wings of the foxes, which carried away Pripriggy, traced the dawn with black stripes.
People from Pripriggy's tribe heard the whistling and flapping of wings, ran out of the huts and saw that the flying foxes were carrying Pripriggy away.
Those tribes who came to the corroboree also woke up and also saw how Pripriggy, like a star, flashed across the sky. He flew so fast that a stream of smoke trailed behind him.
When the whistling of the wings died down and the trail of smoke disappeared, from the sky, from behind the farthest star, people heard the voice of Priprigga.
He sang his farewell song to them. This was Pripriggy's very last song, and he sang it from heaven, and everyone knew that there, in heaven, he would no longer be able to sing. With this song he said goodbye to people.
And they listened to him, and a new dance was born in their imagination, and suddenly everyone began to stamp their feet, wave their arms and shake their heads. And they sang Pripriggy's farewell song, as he himself sang it.
Everyone sang it that night. And they danced a new dance to Pripriggy's last song. Of all the dances it was the most beautiful, and of all the songs Priprigga's last song was the most solemn.
People sang and danced, looking up, and suddenly they saw the Milky Way stretching across the sky.
And before he was not there.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru