He was almost within spear-throw when a cry of delight urged him to bound forward, fitting war spear to wommera. One girl had caught a good-sized fish under a log and was holding the flapping thing up for her comrades to come and admire; the raiders were creeping out through the reeds as the three girls waded together. Red Kangaroo drew back his arm for the throw just as Black-beard glanced round. Then the spear was in the air, aimed now for the other raider, who wheeled round to splash back with the spear deep in his chest. Black-beard was bounding back to the bank and his spear came hissing as Red Kangaroo sprang aside and threw again. Leaping towards him, the enemy warrior parried the spear, and now both advanced crouching, in little leaping runs coming closer together as another spear came and Red Kangaroo fell to his knees with the long spear hissing over him. He was upright and poised on the instant and threw a hunting spear, which the enemy disdainfully struck aside with his shield as he came crouching on, again fitting spear to wommera. Neither noticed the piercing, long-drawn warning scream of the girls as they raced away. The raider came leaping and dodging while hurling his weapons, knowing he must kill this man and run—in a race for life with the guards at his heels.

In a snarling rage he threw his last spear, and both men were crouching in erratic leaps, dodging the tricky, spinning boomerangs. One came near to breaking Red Kangaroo’s leg; it struck the ground deceptively to the left and behind him where the force of impact jerked it straight back to gash his leg. Had that swiftly revolving blade struck fully it would have snapped his shin-bone like a carrot. It was the last boomerang, too.

Both maddened men rushed each other to the crash of shield against shield, the smack of club against warding shield. Leaping high and aside and around, to crouch low and spring while striking at head and thigh and low to the ankles in a fury of grunting bodies and jarring shield and club, Red Kangaroo was now feeling the strain of resisting this older warrior’s maniacal struggle for life. Yet again the two fierce bodies plunged together as blazing eyes snarled into blazing eyes. In the shuddering pressure as the shields struck it was instinct that jerked Red Kangaroo’s shield downward so that the end drove sickeningly into his enemy’s throat, shocking him to his knees as Red Kangaroo struck hard down on his skull. He sprang back, panting, as his enemy rolled over with convulsive limbs agonizedly thrashing amongst the grasses.

Red Kangaroo stood trembling, panting down at the dying warrior as the women’s guards came running. One glance at the fallen man, a glance then at the figure lying in the water with the long spear-haft sticking up above the reeds, and their expressive faces screwed up to astounded expressions in deep grunts of “Whough! Whough! Wah! Wah! Wah!” Then a warrior lifted his head and there rang out over the bush the long-drawn, wavering call of alarm, while several men ran for the nearest hill to summon the scattered hunters by a smoke signal. The tribe must be warned lest the two dead raiders had not come alone. Again, and yet again the call sounded. Then faintly, from away over towards the Whispering Belahs, came floating an answer. They laughed relievedly. That answer would be from Jerrabri’s men hunting kangaroo on the big gum flats. They in turn would signal Kuribri’s men at Tambar Springs, while those fishing down the Namoi would smoke-signal the look-outs on distant Ydire and on Booroobil Rock. Thus quickly over many square miles of country keen eyes would be eagerly watching and the man-hunt would be on.