The Red Chief paused a moment, then added impressively, “We must begin to carry out our tribal plan quickly, and continuously. Even now we may barely have time. Think of this! Should two enemy tribes, say of one hundred and fifty spears each, combine against this our Gunn-e-darr tribe, what chance would we have?” Upon their intent faces he read his answer.

“We should have no chance!” he shouted. “We should be wiped out to the last man, our women and children and lands taken. So we shall start immediately to strengthen our tribe in the hope that we still may have time to build up a power that can resist the combined attack of any two large tribes.”

And this the young Red Chief, the council of the elders, the warriors, and the whole tribe, enthusiastically agreed to.

XXVI

MAKING MEN STRONG

The ceremonies, the dancing and feasting celebrating the initiation of the Red Chief, were over. Old Mullionkale the play-maker was planning a corroboree to commemorate these stirring events, for no such popular happening was recorded in the legends of the tribe. And so many happy things had happened with it. Giluram had claimed Weetah as wife, Kerran claimed Burunda²³, Gurie claimed Millimumul²⁴, Kubado claimed Karelia²⁵, Duri claimed Bhan²⁶, and Keri claimed Yulowirri²⁷.

Young men claimed a score of young girls who, against strict law, had been bought by old men. Bilar the spearmaker was smiling all over his patient face. He was going on his first prolonged hunting trip for a long, long time—hunting for his family, and the tribe.

Strangely enough, it was Boobuk the warrior who gave a bit of a grumble.

“Just as well this Red Chief allows us to keep at least one wife,” he growled, “otherwise I might have lost Kapota.”

“But I thought you wished so much to get rid of her!” chuckled Bungadoon. “How many times have you come here swearing and bellowing and wishing Red Kangaroo and his cubs would take her?”

“Oh, I couldn’t let half-grown pups like those have her,” explained Boobuk. “And no warrior would have been game enough to try!” he added grimly. “Anyway, I don’t hear that you’re in any hurry to lose Pumbul.”

“So long as she behaves herself and hunts well,” answered Bungadoon grandly, “I’ll keep her.”

“H’m,” mused Boobuk doubtfully. “Oh well, I suppose they’re handy to have around the place.”

The children, listening in as usual, giggled—more, when Pumbul solemnly shook her head at them.

Yes, this new Red Chief certainly had stirred up the tribe. Cleverly, too. Yet shrewdly again he had called before the council all those who had been forced to give up what they did not rightfully own, and there with friendly smile and soft words complimented them in the name of the tribe until their gloomy looks turned to smiles and they left the council with lighter step, feeling they were good men who had made a sacrifice for the benefit of the tribe.

The Red Chief was happy and wanted everyone else to be happy, too, for his lively young wives Nareen and Naroo had presented him with a baby boy apiece.