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The girl-child, peering out, sees this forbidden field as belonging wholly to men-kind; and her relation to it is to secure one for herself not only that she may love, but that she may live. He will feed, clothe and adorn her she will serve him; from the subjection of the daughter to that of the wife she steps; from one home to the other, and never enters the world at all man's world.
Even this representation, forcibly as it appealed to a people who regarded the lives of their men-kind as the most precious possession of the nation, scarcely sufficed to curb their lust for further slaughter, for they had become, for the moment, human tigers who, having tasted blood, abandoned their prey only with the utmost reluctance and with much savage snarling of discontent and disappointment.
It was a hot night, and the bar-room door stood open, and within, fronted by a crowd of their loudly talking, deeply drinking men-kind, those poor silly things stood drooping against the wall with their beer-pots dangling limply from their hands, and their mouths fallen open as if to catch the morsels of wit and wisdom that dropped from the tongues of their admired male companions.
So general, so unbroken, has been this condition, that to mention it arouses no more remark than the statement of a natural law. We have taken it for granted, since the dawn of civilization, that "mankind" meant men-kind, and the world was theirs. Women we have sharply delimited.
It's cock-a-doodle-do, I've cotched a husband, cock-a-doodle-doo, wi' 'em. I've no patience wi' such like; I beg, Sylvie, thou'lt not get too thick wi' Molly. She's not pretty behaved, making such an ado about men-kind, as if they were two-headed calves to be run after. 'But Molly's a good-hearted lass, mother.
She moved away, majestically as does a goddess, conscious of her power but magnanimously refraining from using it. Constans and Ulick laughed after the manner of men-kind who find it easy to disbelieve in what they do not understand. Then, with a long hand-grip, they parted.
Don't you know, Joan' and his voice got suddenly grave and deep-toned 'you ought to, for you were a bush girl and you've had men-kind out in the Back Blocks Don't you know that when a man has got to go on day after day, week after week, year after year, fighting devils of loneliness and worse with nothing to look at except miles and miles of stark staring gum trees and black, smelling GIDGEE* and dead-finish scrub and never the glimpse of a woman not counting black gins to remind him he once had a mother and might have a wife.
It's cock-a-doodle-do, I've cotched a husband, cock-a-doodle-doo, wi' 'em. I've no patience wi' such like; I beg, Sylvie, thou'lt not get too thick wi' Molly. She's not pretty behaved, making such an ado about men-kind, as if they were two-headed calves to be run after. 'But Molly's a good-hearted lass, mother.
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