The Rainbow Serpent | Aboriginal Australian Story

About This Story

The Rainbow Serpent wakes the quiet land, brings water to the dry earth, shapes rivers and waterholes and calls animals into the world. She reminds the animals to care for the rivers, waterholes and land, but when some animals forget to care for the water, the Rainbow Serpent returns and reminds them that water and land must be protected. The Rainbow Serpent is an Aboriginal story. 

The Rainbow Serpent Story

Long ago, when the world was quiet and new, the land lay sleeping.

There were no rivers, no waterholes, no green trees, and no birds calling in the morning.

The ground was dry and still.

Under the earth, deep down in the dark, a great Serpent slept.

She was long. She was strong. Her scales shone with every color.

Red. Gold. Green. Blue. Purple Like a rainbow.

For a long, long time, the Rainbow Serpent slept.

Then one day, she opened her eyes. She lifted her head. She listened.

The world was too quiet.

So the Rainbow Serpent began to move.

Slowly at first.

Slide. Swish. Slide. Swish.

Her great body pushed through the earth.

Where she pushed, hills rose.

Where she curled, valleys formed.

Where she dragged her tail, long paths opened in the dust.

The Rainbow Serpent moved across the sleeping land.

Slide. Swish. Slide. Swish.

At last, she came up through the ground.

The sun touched her shining scales, and the colors flashed across the sky.

The Rainbow Serpent looked around.

“The land is thirsty,” she said.

She pressed her body into the dry earth, and a deep hollow opened.

She breathed into it.

Whoosh.

Water bubbled up.

Glug. Glug. Glug.

The first waterhole shone under the sun.

The Rainbow Serpent moved on.

She slid over the land, and the water followed her.

A little trickle came first.

Then a stream.

Then a river.

The river ran through the dust. It curled around stones. It slipped past hills.

The land began to wake.

Tiny green shoots pushed through the ground. Grass grew beside the river. Leaves opened on the trees.

Flowers lifted their faces to the light.

The Rainbow Serpent smiled.

“This is better,” she said.

Then she called to the animals.

“Wake up.”

Deep in the earth, the frogs stirred.

In the trees, the birds opened their eyes.

In the long grass, the lizards blinked.

Kangaroo lifted her head. Emu stretched her legs. Kookaburra ruffled his feathers.

One by one, the animals came into the new world.

They saw the water. They saw the trees. They saw the bright sky above them.

The animals were glad, because they had water to drink and places to live.

Kangaroo bounded to the river.

Thump. Thump.Thump.

Emu stepped carefully beside Kangaroo.

Step. Step. Step.

The frogs leapt into the reeds.

Plop.

The birds flew from branch to branch.

Flap.Flap.

The land was not quiet anymore.

It rustled. It splashed. It sang.

The Rainbow Serpent watched them all.

“This land is for everyone,” she said. “The rivers, the waterholes, the trees, and the grass must be cared for.”

The animals listened.

Kangaroo lowered her ears. Emu bowed her long neck. Kookaburra stopped laughing.

Even little Lizard stayed still on his warm stone.

“Drink what you need,” said the Rainbow Serpent. “Eat what you need. Rest where you need. But do not take everything.”

The animals nodded.

“We will remember,” said Kangaroo.

“We will remember,” said Emu.

“We will remember,” whispered Lizard.

For a while, all was well.

The animals drank from the river. They rested in the shade. They shared the waterholes.

The frogs sang at night.

Ribbit. Ribbit. Ribbit.

But one hot day, some animals forgot.

They pushed to the front of the waterhole. They splashed mud into the clear water. They broke young plants by the riverbank.

They drank and drank, then wasted what was left.

“Stop,” said Kangaroo. “The Rainbow Serpent told us to care for the water.”

But the careless animals did not listen.

“It is only water,” they said.

They stamped near the edge.

Stamp. Stamp. Stamp.

The bank began to crumble. Mud slid into the water. The little fish darted away.

The frogs stopped singing.

The river grew cloudy.

Far below the ground, the Rainbow Serpent heard.

She opened one bright eye.

The earth trembled.

Rumble. Rumble. Rumble.

The animals froze.

“What was that?” whispered Emu.

The waterhole rippled. The reeds shook. The sky grew still.

Then the Rainbow Serpent rose from the river.

Up. Up. Up.

Water streamed from her shining scales. Her rainbow colors flashed in the sun.

The Rainbow Serpent looked at the muddy water, the broken plants, and the frightened fish.

“You forgot that water is life,” she said.

The animals hung their heads.

“We are sorry,” they said.

Then they worked together. Kangaroo pressed the loose earth back. Emu moved broken sticks away. Lizard guarded the small green shoots.

Little by little, the water cleared. The plants stood tall again. The fish returned, and the frogs began to sing.

Ribbit. Ribbit. Ribbit.

“Now you remember,” said the Rainbow Serpent.

“We remember,” said the animals.

Then she slid back into the water.

Slide. Swish. Slide. Swish.

From that day on, the animals cared for the rivers, the waterholes, and the land. And whenever a rainbow curved across the sky, they looked up and whispered,

“The Rainbow Serpent is watching.”