No simple task for the Red Chief, that of allotting for every single man and boy his duties. For the lives of these Stone Age men and women were strictly governed, day by day, season by season, year by year, from birth to death, by strict laws governed by a culture deep, intricate, and clever, developed through we know not what great ages of time.²⁸

So, in this series of hunts the Red Chief did not choose the hunters by favour nor yet because of their skill alone. For, in somewhat the same way as the intricate cross system of marriage laws was so cleverly designed to keep each tribal strain pure and virile, the totemic laws as applied to hunting were designed according to spiritual beliefs, also as a safeguard in the preservation of game.

The tribe strongly believed in reincarnation, not only in the form of man, but of animal, bird, and reptile also. Thus a warrior of the Emu totem would not hunt the emu, for who could know, if he killed an emu he might kill his own brother who had returned from the Land of Shades in the form of an emu, his totem bird. And so with all things. For no one harms any living thing within the family of his totem, even to the trees, or the grasses, or the foods that give totem creatures shelter and upon which they are temporarily living, except in time of fearful drought. Only then, to save the life of his wife and child, will a man sorrowfully take the risk of killing that animal or bird or reptile in which may now be the soul of his own brother.

So the Red Chief carefully chose the hunters so that in each band there would be men of various totems, which meant that any game meat could fall to the spears of some. Those who could not eat of the flesh of their totem kangaroo or emu, for instance, could eat of wallaby, fish, or water-fowl. Thus none would go hungry, while the hunters of the greatly desired emu, and also of the kangaroo, could give their individual attention to this particular game, which they were entitled to kill.

At last all the plans were laid to the Red Chief’s satisfaction—but not to that of the young warriors. Hurt, then angry, they received in selfish disappointment the order to remain in camp. They were now much more outspoken than when they had gone in dread of Jerrabri and his council. That night mutterings of discontent broke out around the young fellows’ campfires.

“Why aren’t the old warriors detailed to guard the women and children?” murmured one. “It has always been their job!”

“It’s all they’re good for,” answered another. “They cannot stand up to the long, hot day’s chase as we can. Anyway, why cannot those fifteen elderly warriors remain in camp, while we draw lots among us to make up the other nine? That would give fifteen of us a chance, anyway.”