“We should all go to the hunt,” growled another, “not only fifteen of us. Those old fifteen, and the elder warriors, have enjoyed many, many huntings of the emu, many a feast on the rich meat that makes a young warrior grow strong.”

“Yes,” agreed another eagerly, “they have had their day and now it is their turn to guard the women and children. It’s all they’re fit for, anyway.”

“Better not let them hear you say that,” chuckled his mate, “or you might find yourself out on the duelling ground. There are some quick-tempered tough old boys among them.”

“Bah! They couldn’t hit a kangaroo if it sat back on its tail and looked at them,” broke in a young buck who fancied himself, “let alone stand up against a fighting warrior! Look how the Red Chief himself stood up against the best in the tribe when he was but a Kubara!”

“Ah,” replied one quietly, “but there is only one Red Chief! And whether but Kubara or grown man, he could stand up against the best of any tribe!”

They were uneasily silent at this, but presently mutterings broke out again.

A few of the fathers and uncles, sympathizing with the disappointed men, talked together and next day agreed they would stay behind and help mind camp. After all, they agreed among themselves, they had enjoyed many an emu hunt. They did not really mind whether they went on this particular hunt or not. They would stay behind and help guard camp, while a younger warrior could go on the hunt in place of each of them. This delighted the young fellows, who now won some of the women’s sympathy also.

To the Red Chief came the warrior Burradella to report the camp gossip of the women at the younger warriors’ grumblings. The Red Chief frowned angrily, then lapsed into thought. Presently he asked for bearers, and sent them with a message stick to every warrior of the tribe commanding all to a high-sun council of the warriors that very day.

Before high sun every warrior was on the council ground, curious to know what this unexpected council had been called for. As each arrived he laid his spear before the chief, then quietly took his place in a semicircle sitting before the Red Chief, beside whom sat the second chief, Burradella.

At high sun Burradella stood up. Immediately then every warrior struck hard the ground before him with his nulla, once. Every nulla striking as one, a sharp ringing blow.

“This council is called,” said Burradella clearly, “because there are bad murmurings of discontent amongst the younger warriors of our tribe. And where there is discontent, the talk flies to the women’s ears. And they talk that discontent back to the warrior or warriors of their own gunyah. And each woman takes her side with her warrior against the woman and warrior of the other gunyah. The women then continue to talk against other women and other women’s warriors. The warriors hear it. There are black looks. Then the warriors begin to quarrel, one against the other. Quickly sides are taken, the trouble spreads. Finally the warriors spring up and fight, and a man or more may be killed. This our tribe cannot afford to lose one single warrior killed in that way. Those whose loose talk and discontent would cause such killings are enemies to our tribe.