The following duck, seeing the leader dive, immediately concluded there could be a shrimp under that water-weed for him also so he came speeding on, bobbed down his head and—dived. A third duck guessed there must be good pickings under that water-weed and he greedily followed the leaders—as did no less than seven of his mates, one after the other, making ten in all. Dived—but did not reappear! Ten of them, before some deep instinct warned the remainder. With uneasy duckings the swimming mob divided out from that water-weed and swam on down the channel.

They were gone. Slowly the patch of water-weed began drifting back towards the shore reeds. Had any enemy happened to be passing by he would hardly have given that weed a second glance.

Gilwan returned to the sheltering reeds with ten fat ducks at his belt. Burradella and the boys came, and soon afterward Wanawah appeared. In grave tones the warrior Burradella complimented the two proud lads on the work. So far, without weapons or hunting tools, they had secured ten fat ducks for the starving women and children, and had done it without giving a sign that could have roused the suspicions of any prowling enemy. In the same way, they still had to get those ducks back to the women and children supposedly waiting in the scrub. Completion of the test would come after the mid-sun meal.

“Go and get food!” ordered Burradella, and immediately a chattering broke out among the boys as they scurried out along the swamp and began wading for mussels, crayfish and turtle, water goanna or some unlucky fish sleeping within a hollow log or under ledge or bank. Soon each was returning with his catch to throw it on the fire of coals Burradella had already spread out. Soon the shellfish were pop-popping as they opened their shells to the heat, cooking in their own juice, soon to be hungrily gobbled up by the boys. After the meal Burradella questioned each boy as to what he had learnt from the morning’s test, examining him as to his observation and memory, then questioning him as to whether he could suggest any improvement in the performance of Gilwan and Wanawah.

During the warm afternoon the remainder of the day’s test would be strictly carried out. After this all would return happy and hungry to camp at sundown, to the hilarious laughter of the kookaburras, the musical warbling of the magpies, the sweet chirping of the lively little willy-wagtails. After the evening meal the men and boys and girls, even to the toddlers, would gather round the warrior Burradella’s fire. The boys would sit silently while the warrior would tell the chief and the council just how the boys had carried out the test. Gravely then the elders would congratulate the boys, or explain where mistakes had been made or any precaution overlooked, or suggest how even better work might have been done. And the boys and the children also would listen earnestly and remember. For this was serious work; it was training them to grow up to be hunters and warriors for the tribe. And the tribe was all one, so every boy must become a hunter or warrior or both, or at least an expert in the making of weapons, of traps and nets, or in fashioning those stone mazes across the shallows of a watercourse that are such efficient fish-traps on a large scale. He must be able to play his part in some imperatively necessary task, otherwise the tribe could not continue to exist. And every girl must do her part, too.