I will tell you the story of how the birds gained their colours.
In the dreamtime, all birds were dark, and black, and colourless. All except the dove, who had every colour of the rainbow touching his feathers.
All of the other, colorless birds loved his colours, and he had many admirers. All except the crow, who left whenever he saw the dove, jealous as he was.
One day, he was out hunting for grubs, and spied one. He swooped down for it, but instead of catching the grub, he speared his foot on a stick. He was unable to remove it himself, and grew very ill.
The other birds surrounded him, as his foot swelled up, and he grew delirious, even as they brought him food and water. The crow called out to them, telling them that it was hopeless, and that they should leave. They told him to go, and he left, with his hands behind his back.
All seemed lost for the dove, when the parrot had an idea. He lunged foward, and burst the sore on the doves foot. From it, amongst the blood and pus burst the doves colours, splashing on all of the surrounded birds. Some got spots, some got stripes, some got many colours, and some got only a few. All received some colours, except the selfish crow, who left. The doves amazing colours bled from his body, until little colour remained on him.
And from that day foward, all birds had colours.