As the women made their way to the swamp a cloud of parrots dived down over them and up to a deafening, screeching whirr of wings, a flash of orange and scarlet and green. Presently half a dozen warriors picked up their weapons and strolled after the women. These men were guards, to watch over and protect the women. For the people never knew when a lurking enemy might pounce on a dawdling young woman and steal her away. Always girls and young women lived in danger from women-stealers, and young boys also, for all tribes sought to steal boys from other tribes to rear them up to become warriors of their own. The spoils to him who can take them has ever been a law of the wild.

Still remaining quietly sitting in camp, listening intently to the quiet voice of the warrior Burradella, were Gilwan and the boys of from ten to fourteen. The older ones amongst them had already gone through twelve months’ training in preparation for the Bora.

Burradella, the middle-aged warrior, friend of Red Kangaroo, had charge of these young boys for the next fortnight. Gravely he was telling them that he was going to put to the test, day by day, what each had learnt, or failed to learn, during his training so far. The first to be tested would be two of the twelve-year-old boys, Gilwan and Wanawah. They were to imagine that enemies had taken the camp by surprise in the dawn. The warriors had snatched weapons, the mothers their babies, and they had fled in all directions into the scrub—men, women, and children. And now the scattered warriors were trying to come together again, each group desperately fighting to drive away superior numbers of victorious enemies. The fight had been dragging on for three days. Meanwhile, Gilwan and Wanawah were guards, they alone in charge of a frightened group of women and children hidden deep within dense scrub. They dared not move from there, for inevitably some track would be found and they all then would be tracked down by the enemy and killed or captured. The babies now were whimpering for milk, the young children growing weaker, the mothers nearly frantic, all were starving. Gilwan and Wanawah must venture from the scrub out into the open bush and bring their starving people food. The outside bush was thick with prowling enemies. If Gilwan or Wanawah or their tracks were seen they would be hunted to death, then their careless tracks would be followed back into the scrub and the women and children found, killed, and captured. Such careless work on the part of Gilwan and Wanawah, the guards, would bring great loss and sorrow to the tribe.

Gilwan and Wanawah had also to imagine that in the alarm of the dawn surprise they had fled without weapons or hunting gear of any kind. How were they to secure food for the women and children with only their thoughts and bushcraft and naked bodies to do it with? And furthermore, if they succeeded, how were they to get that food back to the women without the prowling enemy discovering them or their tracks?