Red Kangaroo, eager for action, raised his voice in a short, sharp call. The women and children hiding like frightened mice among the reeds and scrub came running back through the bush towards the call, eyes popping from their heads at sight of the dead raiders, the three girls who had been rescued excitedly jabbering as they pointed from one dead warrior to the other; screeching to the other women how narrowly they had escaped death or capture.

They grew bashfully silent as they noticed Red Kangaroo’s glowering face, but he said nothing, realizing that had these three girls not dawdled behind he would not this day have made a great name for himself.

He grunted, then strode swiftly away towards the main camp, the guards urging on the women and children who now were alert to scatter and fly at the least alarm.

But relieved laughter broke out when they saw the camp was safe, and the old people coming creeping out from their hiding-places at their reassuring cooees.

Red Kangaroo’s task was now to help guard the camp until the scattered huntsmen could arrive. He put in time by running in a wide circle round the camp. And presently his quick eyes saw two tracks of foreign warriors who had run away from behind the camp. He followed, and saw on a clear patch where two more tracks joined, then two more. He stopped, and again his voice sent out the long-drawn signal cry.

Distantly through the trees came answering voices as running hunters turned in the direction of Red Kangaroo’s voice. But those raiders were trained to the minute. They were four miles and more away by now, racing for life back to their own country, and they made it.

Before midday the tribe, except for the look-outs and distant scattered groups had congregated excitedly to read the story of the tracks. There had been twenty-six raiders all told. The two men killed by Red Kangaroo had been scouting well out from the camp and could not resist the temptation of trying to capture those three young girls. Thus they had ruined the whole raid. The other twenty-four had remained in hiding away behind the main camp waiting for late afternoon to bring the first party of women straggling back to camp. They would then have struck swiftly, and away. But for Red Kangaroo some among the Gunn-e-darr tribe would have slept their last sleep this night.

X

THE TROUBLES OF BOOBUK

Red Kangaroo was the tribal hero, plied round the campfires with the choicest morsels of the day’s hunt. Proud he was when the chief and the elders, followed by his uncle Tulumi, and by the warriors Burradella, Boobuk, and old Bungadoon, trying to be serious for once, came to his campfire and gravely congratulated him on his victory in a warrior’s fight, and on saving not only the three girls—for it would have served them right had they been killed or captured—but some members at least of the tribe from the shower of spears that later would have been hurled into the camp. Jerrabri added that the tribe was proud of the fact that the warrior lad Red Kangaroo had so soon proved himself the warrior son of a warrior father. This pleased the lad greatly, for he had loved his father; but he was saddened when he saw that the chief’s words had made his old mother cry.