But the old man would not trouble them long.
"Where is Jack?" he asked, looking round the camp.
"Here," said his son, who was seated on a stump, smoking Smith's pipe in a business-like way that made the owner wonder if he would ever get it back again.
"I wish to speak to the tribe of the Brodarro," cried his father. "For the man of another white tribe has brought back the past to me, and I remember my father, and the time when I was young, when I could fight and run as fast as a flying doe, when I was as strong as an old man kangaroo. And now, men of the Brodarro, I am old and feeble, and nearly blind, and there is no pleasure for me in the fight. I can bring no more heads to the camp, I can neither hurl the spear, nor throw the boomerang, neither can I lie in wait for our enemies."
His voice became a melancholy wail, like the night cry of a curlew. But as he spoke again, strength came back to him, and his form straightened, and his voice grew resonant.
"But, men of the Brodarro, all of you my children, this is what I say to you as darkness opens to me, and I go out among the spirits of the bush. My father came out from a white tribe who were his enemies, and with him came another man and two women, and their life and the life of their children was free. We could fight and live as we wished, and there wasn't no man over us. And I remember how my father said that among the other white tribes were many damn cruel customs, and that no man was the equal of another, and that some starved though there was food in the camp, and, if one, who starved, took from any of his mates, he was tortured, and kept alive to be tortured, and given no meat, nor fish, nor was he allowed to look upon the sun. And he told me, as he died, to live as a free man with my children, and to have nought to do with the other white tribes, who were too cunning. So now I say this to you," and his voice was like a trumpet, and he rose to his full height, "even as my father said it. Have nought to do with the white men of any other tribe, for they are blacker in their hearts than an Emu, and more powerful and more cunning than the little devils in the caves of the northern country."
And he called to his son Jack, who came to him as obediently as though he feared the old man. For his father was as one possessed.
"Come, my son, give me a spear in my right hand, and let me shout our war-cry once more, as I shouted it when I led you against the Jinwarries, and when we brought in the heads of the Red Kangaroos."
And they brought him a spear, placing it in his hand.
"Farewell, men of the Brodarro, and the big plains, and the rivers, and the ranges. Come, my children, shout with me before I go."