Against the brilliant green of the back paddock, two bucks are fighting. One is redder and bigger. He launches towards the smaller kangaroo, swings back on his tail and starts throwing punches. The young one, he is aggressive and quick. We watch him close in on the old roo, he starts raking his killer claws against the old man's belly.
The older kangaroo backs off and stops to graze, watching his opponent.
An egret stalks by, looking for dung beetles.
The truce and warfare is repeated several times in the twilight.
The last time they clash, the old buck hits the younger one and he goes down into the grass.
We wait for him to get up.
He doesn't get up.
My sister says, "I used to get the old blokes at my place, after their fights. I'd see them come in all bleeding and cast out. They'd die, eventually, by the river, and my dog would bring their leg bones up to the house."