All knew that at any moment men of the tribe might be at one another’s throats. And all knew, too, that this day would not pass without something happening.

Through the ominous silence, came the long-drawn note of a distant “Coo-ee-eee!”

The camp froze; men, women, and children stared wonderingly. Then here and there a man sprang erect—listening.

After a time, closer now came—yes, there was no questioning it!—that powerful, ringing cooee of—Red Kangaroo!

On the instant every man was upon his feet, the camp broke into a hundred smiles, hysterical laughter, then shrill chattering of women, screams of youngsters.

Red Kangaroo! Red Kangaroo was coming home! Warriors put hands to their mouth, the whole camp sent out a wild, hysterical, “Coo-ee-eee!” And back came an answer, full-throated, confident. Men seized weapons and started running; women and children excitedly followed. Only Jerrabri and elders remained, frowning doubtfully.

And thus Red Kangaroo returned to camp. The people streaming out, cooeeing to meet him seemed struck dumb as his tall, smiling figure appeared with two fine young women, dead tired but defiant, marching obediently ahead of him carrying his possum-skin rugs and weapons, staring everyone in the eye as they marched into camp, the cords of captivity round their throats, the ends of the cords held in his left hand, his wommera in his right.

Those who had remained in camp stood and watched, those who had run out to meet him followed behind quietly, to stand also and watch in an amazed silence as proudly he marched his captive wives to his own gunyah. There he took the captivity cords from their necks in front of all, and ordered them to take off their bundles and lay them within the gunyah. Silently they obeyed. He ordered them to collect firewood. They turned to the bush to do so, returning with an armful of kindling. When they had prepared a fire his uncle Tulumi came from his own campfire with a blazing firestick in his hand, quietly walking to Red Kangaroo. For this was the custom, that if a warrior brought to camp a captive woman it was his father’s right to bring the brand that would light the marriage fire. Since Red Kangaroo’s father was dead the right passed to his uncle.

Red Kangaroo bowed his head to his uncle, took the brand, and held it towards the girls. Only when each gripped it did he let it go. Both girls, holding the blazing firestick, bent to the wood-pile and thrust it in. The kindling crackled, smoke appeared, and the fire blazed up. The warrior Burradella, friend of Red Kangaroo, then came with the hind leg of a newly killed kangaroo. Gravely he offered it to Red Kangaroo, who as gravely accepted the gift, handed it to his wives, and said, “Cook me meat!”

They bent to the fire to obey. Slowly then the people drifted away to their own gunyahs to talk excitedly in little groups, leaving Red Kangaroo and his wives, his obviously very tired wives, to themselves. For such was the custom.