The slightly larger lands of the Wiradjuri reached south-west from the Kamilaroi boundary, beyond the Murrumbidgee and almost to the Murray. Thus the lands of these two great tribes stretched in a broad strip across New South Wales from south to north.

Hedging in both these tribes right along the coast and pressing against them from the west were numerous much smaller tribes. Some were fiercely aggressive, others raided whenever they saw an opportunity and fought back when they had to, others were more or less peaceful, the smaller tribes of these battling for existence as best they could.

All the warlike of these smaller tribes within raiding distance were jealous of the rich lands of the Kamilaroi. It was the numbers of the Kamilaroi, and the fact that most of them were fighters, that kept them back within their own tribal lands.

But the Kamilaroi themselves were only a loose conglomeration of sub-tribes, friendly in the main to one another, but each distinct unit looking after itself. Thus, if one of these units suffered from a disastrous raid then it was “just too bad”. Friendly units would be indignant, might even offer help when it was too late, would certainly come and drive back the enemy should they seek to hold the precious land after they had annihilated the sub-tribe, but this was of small comfort to the little group of people directly concerned.

At this period the Gunn-e-darr tribe of the Kamilaroi had been gradually weakened in fighting men because of the bad leadership of two succeeding chiefs, and was in grave danger from warlike tribes hemming them in to the east and west, south-east and south-west, north-east and north-west.

“If only all the Kamilaroi would combine,” sighed Red Kangaroo, “like the ants in the one anthill.”

But no reply came from the majesty of the vast blue sky, the far-flung rays of Walcha the sun. Maybe an answer came from far across the quiet lands, that whispering sigh from the pine forests along the valleys of the Nandewars—those lovely forests that in time coming were to crash to the bite of the white man’s axe.

Red Kangaroo sighed, rested his chin on his knees, clasped his arms round them and gazed far out, glad again that no enemy knew how weak his beloved Gunn-e-darr really was. Glad indeed that the restless tribesmen of Moonbi far out there did not know, nor the warrior tribe of the Wallabadah, nor those aggressive “ants” of the Coolah, Bomera, Weetaliba, Deringulla, Ulamambri, right to the fighting tribes of the Warrumbungle Ranges, and further north through the Great Pillaga Scrubs to the aggressive men of Narrabri.

How fortunate for Gunn-e-darr that all these “ants” were kept so busy biting one another!

Red Kangaroo little knew that but for these “idle” thoughts of his the Gunn-e-darr tribe would in time to come have been wiped off the lands of the Kamilaroi to the last man.

VI

EVERY WOMAN TEACHES WHILE SHE HUNTS

The spurs of the Nandewars, the bastions of the Warrumbungles were clothed in gold of wattle, sweet-scented by the honeyed flowers of countless trees. So ever since the Dream Time that loveliness had come and gone. As the seasons come and go, and come again. As the floods come and go. As men come and go. And tribes. And nations.