The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dot and the Kangaroo, by Ethel C. Pedley
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Title: Dot and the Kangaroo
Author: Ethel C. Pedley
Posting Date: June 20, 2009 [EBook #3703]
Release Date: February, 2003
First Posted: July 26, 2001
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOT AND THE KANGAROO ***
Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
DOT AND THE KANGAROO
by
Ethel C. Pedley
To the
children of Australia
in the hope of enlisting their sympathies
for the many
beautiful, amiable, and frolicsome creatures
of their fair land,
whose extinction, through ruthless destruction,
is being surely accomplished
CHAPTER I.
Little Dot had lost her way in the bush. She knew it, and was very
frightened. She was too frightened in fact to cry, but stood in the
middle of a little dry, bare space, looking around her at the scraggy
growths of prickly shrubs that had torn her little dress to rags,
scratched her bare legs and feet till they bled, and pricked her hands
and arms as she had pushed madly through the bushes, for hours, seeking
her home. Sometimes she looked up to the sky. But little of it could
be seen because of the great tall trees that seemed to her to be trying
to reach heaven with their far-off crooked branches. She could see
little patches of blue sky between the tangled tufts of her way in the
and was very drooping leaves, and, as the dazzling sunlight had faded,
she began to think it was getting late, and that very soon it would be
night.
The thought of being lost and alone in the wild bush at night, took her
breath away with fear, and made her tired little legs tremble under
her. She gave up all hope of finding her home, and sat down at the foot
of the biggest blackbutt tree, with her face buried in her hands and
knees, and thought of all that had happened, and what might happen yet.
It seemed such a long, long time since her mother had told her that she
might gather some bush flowers while she cooked the dinner, and Dot
recollected how she was bid not to go out of sight of the cottage. How
she wished now she had remembered this sooner! But whilst she was
picking the pretty flowers, a hare suddenly started at her feet and
sprang away into the bush, and she had run after it. When she found
that she could not catch the hare, she discovered that she could no
longer see the cottage. After wandering for a while she got frightened
and ran, and ran, little knowing that she was going further away from
her home at every step.
Where she was sitting under the blackbutt tree, she was miles away from
her father's selection, and it would be very difficult for anyone to
find her. She felt that she was a long way off, and she began to think
of what was happening at home. She remembered how, not very long ago,
a neighbour's little boy had been lost, and how his mother had come to
their cottage for help to find him, and that her father had ridden off
on the big bay horse to bring men from all the selections around to
help in the search. She remembered their coming back in the darkness;
numbers of strange men she had never seen before. Old men, young men,
and boys, all on their rough-coated horses, and how they came indoors,
and what a noise they made all talking together in their big deep
voices. They looked terrible men, so tall and brown and fierce, with
their rough bristly beards; and they all spoke in such funny tones to
her, as if they were trying to make their voices small.
During many days, these men came and went, and every time they were
more sad, and less noisy. The little boy's mother used to come and
stay, crying, whilst the men were searching the bush for her little
son. Then, one evening, Dot's father came home alone, and both her
mother and the little boy's mother went away in a great hurry. Then,
very late, her mother came back crying, and her father sat smoking by
the fire looking very sad, and she never saw that little boy again,
although he had been found.
She wondered now if all these rough, big men were riding into the bush
to find her, and if, after many days, they would find her, and no one
ever see her again. She seemed to see her mother crying, and her
father very sad, and all the men very solemn. These thoughts made her
so miserable that she began to cry herself.
Dot does not know how long she was sobbing in loneliness and fear, with
her head on her knees, and with her little hands covering her eyes so
as not to see the cruel wild bush in which she was lost. It seemed a
long time before she summoned up courage to uncover her weeping eyes,
and look once more at the bare, dry earth, and the wilderness of scrub
and trees that seemed to close her in as if she were in a prison. When
she did look up, she was surprised to see that she was no longer alone.
She forgot all her trouble and fear in her astonishment at seeing a big
grey Kangaroo squatting quite close to her, in front of her.
What was most surprising was the fact that the Kangaroo evidently
understood that Dot was in trouble, and was sorry for her; for down the
animal's nice soft grey muzzle two tiny little tears were slowly
trickling. When Dot looked up at it with wonder in her round blue eyes,
the Kangaroo did not jump away, but remained gazing sympathetically at
Dot with a slightly puzzled air. Suddenly the big animal seemed to
have an idea, and it lightly hopped off into the scrub, where Dot could
just see it bobbing up and down as if it were hunting for something.
Presently back came the strange Kangaroo with a spray of berries in her
funny black hands. They were pretty berries. Some were green, some
were red, some blue, and others white. Dot was quite glad to take them
when the Kangaroo offered them to her; and as this friendly animal
seemed to wish her to eat them, she did so gladly, because she was
beginning to feel hungry.
After she had eaten a few berries a very strange thing happened. While
Dot had been alone in the bush it had all seemed so dreadfully still.
There had been no sound but the gentle stir of a light, fitful breeze
in the far-away tree-tops. All around had been so quiet, that her
loneliness had seemed twenty times more lonely. Now, however, under
the influence of these small, sweet berries, Dot was surprised to hear
voices everywhere. At first it seemed like hearing sounds in a dream,
they were so faint and distant, but soon the talking grew nearer and
nearer, louder and clearer, until the whole bush seemed filled with
talking.
They were all little voices, some indeed quite tiny whispers and
squeaks, but they were very numerous, and seemed to be everywhere.
They came from the earth, from the bushes, from the trees, and from the
very air. The little girl looked round to see where they came from,
but everything looked just the same. Hundreds of ants, of all kinds
and sizes, were hurrying to their nests; a few lizards were scuttling
about amongst the dry twigs and sparse grasses; there were some
grasshoppers, and in the trees birds fluttered to and fro. Then Dot
knew that she was hearing, and understanding, everything that was being
said by all the insects and creatures in the bush.
All this time the Kangaroo had been speaking, only Dot had been too
surprised to listen. But now the gentle, soft voice of the kind animal
caught her attention, and she found the Kangaroo was in the middle of a
speech.
"I understood what was the matter with you at once," she was saying,
"for I feel just the same myself. I have been miserable, like you,
ever since I lost my baby Kangaroo. You also must have lost something.
Tell me what it is?"
"I've lost my way," said Dot; rather wondering if the Kangaroo would
nderstand her.
"Ah!" said the Kangaroo, quite delighted at her own cleverness, "I knew
you had lost something! Isn't it a dreadful feeling? You feel as if
you had no inside, don't you? And you're not inclined to eat
anything--not even the youngest grass. I have been like that ever
since I lost my baby Kangaroo. Now tell me," said the creature
confidentially, "what your way is like. I may be able to find it for
you."
Dot found that she must explain what she meant by saying she had "lost
her way," and the Kangaroo was much interested.
"Well," said she, after listening to the little girl, "that is just
like you Humans; you are not fit for this country at all! Of course,
if you have only one home in one place, you must lose it! If you made
your home everywhere and anywhere, it would never be lost. Humans are
no good in our bush," she continued. "Just look at yourself now. How
do you compare with a Kangaroo? There is your ridiculous sham coat.
Well, you have lost bits of it all the way you have come to-day, and
you're nearly left in your bare skin. Now look at my coat. I've done
ever so much more hopping than you to-day, and you see I'm none the
worse. I wonder why all your fur grows upon the top of your head," she
said reflectively, as she looked curiously at Dot's long flaxen curls.
"It's such a silly place to have one's fur the thickest! You see, we
have very little there; for we don't want our heads made any hotter
under the Australian sun. See how much better off you would be, now
that nearly all your sham coat is gone, if that useless fur had been
chopped into little, short lengths and spread all over your poor bare
body. I wonder why you Humans are made so badly," she ended, with a
puzzled air.
Dot felt for a moment as if she ought to apologise for being so unfit
for the bush, and for having all the fur on the top of her head. But,
somehow, she had an idea that a little girl must be something better
than a kangaroo, although the Kangaroo certainly seemed a very superior
person; so she said nothing, but again began to eat the berries.
"You must not eat any more of these berries," said the Kangaroo,
anxiously.
"Why?" asked Dot, "they are very nice, and I'm very hungry."
The Kangaroo gently took the spray out of Dot's hand, and threw it
away. "You see," she said, "if you eat too many of them, you'll know
too much."
"One can't know too much," argued the little girl.
"Yes you can, though," said the Kangaroo, quickly. "If you eat too
many of those berries, you'll learn too much, and that gives you
indigestion, and then you become miserable. I don't want you to be
miserable any more, for I'm going to find your lost way."
The mention of finding her way reminded the little girl of her sad
position, which, in her wonder at talking with the Kangaroo, had been
quite forgotten for a little while. She became sad again; and seeing
how dim the light was getting, her thoughts went back to her parents.
She longed to be with them to be kissed and cuddled, and her blue eyes
filled with tears.
"Your eyes just now remind me of two fringed violets, with the morning
dew on them, or after a shower," said the Kangaroo. "Why are you
crying?"
"I was thinking," said Dot.
"Oh! don't think!" pleaded the Kangaroo; "I never do myself."
"I can't help it!" explained the little girl. "What do you do
instead?" she asked.
"I always jump to conclusions," said the Kangaroo, and she promptly
bounded ten feet at one hop. Lightly springing back again to her
position in front of the child, she added, "and that's why I never have
a headache."
"Dear Kangaroo," said Dot, "do you know where I can get some water?
I'm very thirsty!"
"Of course you are," said her friend; "everyone is at sundown. I'm
thirsty myself. But the nearest water-hole is a longish way off, so we
had better start at once."
Little Dot got up with an effort. After her long run and fatigue, she
was very stiff, and her little legs were so tired and weak, that after
a few steps she staggered and fell.
The Kangaroo looked at the child compassionately. "Poor little Human,"
she said, "your legs aren't much good, and, for the life of me, I don't
understand how you can expect to get along without a tail. The
water-hole is a good way off," she added, with a sigh, as she looked
down at Dot, lying on the ground, and she was very puzzled what to do.
But suddenly she brightened up. "I have an idea," she said joyfully.
"Just step into my pouch, and I'll hop you down to the water-hole in
less time than it takes a locust to shrill."
Timidly and carefully, Dot did the Kangaroo's bidding, and found
herself in the cosiest, softest little bag imaginable. The Kangaroo
seemed overjoyed when Dot was comfortably settled in her pouch. "I
feel as if I had my dear baby kangaroo again!" she exclaimed; and
immediately she bounded away through the tangled scrub, over stones and
bushes, over dry water-courses and great fallen trees. All Dot felt
was a gentle rocking motion, and a fresh breeze in her face, which made
her so cheerful that she sang this song:--
If you want to go quick,
I will tell you a trick
For the bush, where there isn't a train.
With a hulla-buloo,
Hail a big kangaroo--
But be sure that your weight she'll sustain--
Then with hop, and with skip,
She will take you a trip
With the speed of the very best steed;
And, this is a truth for which I can vouch,
There's no carriage can equal a kangaroo's pouch.
Oh! where is a friend so strong and true
As a dear big, bounding kangaroo?
"Good bye! Good bye!"
The lizards all cry,
Each drying its eyes with its tail.
"Adieu! Adieu!
Dear kangaroo!"
The scared little grasshoppers wail.
"They're going express
To a distant address,"
Says the bandicoot, ready to scoot;
And your path is well cleared for your progress, I vouch,
When you ride through the bush in a kangaroo's pouch.
Oh! where is a friend so strong and true
As a dear big, bounding kangaroo?
"Away and away!"
You will certainly say,
"To the end of the furthest blue--
To the verge of the sky,
And the far hills high,
O take me with thee, kangaroo!
We will seek for the end,
Where the broad plains tend,
E'en as far as the evening star.
Why, the end of the world we can reach, I vouch,
Dear kangaroo, with me in your pouch."
Oh! where is a friend so strong and true
As a dear big, bounding kangaroo?
CHAPTER II.
"That is a nice song of yours." said the Kangaroo, "and I like it very
much, but please stop singing now, as we are getting near the
waterhole, for it's not etiquette to make a noise near water at
sundown."
Dot would have asked why everything must be so quiet; but as she peeped
out, she saw that the Kangaroo was making a very dangerous descent, and
she did not like to trouble her friend with questions just then. They
seemed to be going down to a great deep gully that looked almost like a
hole in the earth, the depth was so great, and the hills around came so
closely together. The way the Kangaroo was hopping was like going down
the side of a wall. Huge rocks were tumbled about here and there.
Some looked as if they would come rolling down upon them; and others
appeared as if a little jolt would send them crashing and tumbling into
the darkness below. Where the Kangaroo found room to land on its feet
after each bound puzzled Dot, for there seemed no foothold anywhere.
It all looked so dangerous to the little girl that she shut her eyes,
so as not to see the terrible places they bounded over, or rested on:
she felt sure that the Kangaroo must lose her balance, or hop just a
little too far or a little too near, and that they would fall together
over the side of that terrible wild cliff. At last she said:
"Oh, Kangaroo, shall we get safely to the bottom do you think?"
"I never think," said the Kangaroo, "but I know we shall. This is the
easiest way. If I went through the thick bush on the other side, I
should stand a chance of running my head against a tree at every leap,
unless I got a stiff neck with holding my head on one side looking out
of one eye all the time. My nose gets in the way when I look straight
in front," she explained. "Don't be afraid," she continued, "I know
every jump of the way. We kangaroos have gone this way ever since
Australia began to have kangaroos. Look here!" she said, pausing on a
big boulder that hung right over the gully, "we have made a history
book for ourselves out of these rocks; and so long as these rocks last,
long long after the time when there will be no more kangaroos, and no
more humans, the sun, and the moon, and the stars will look down upon
what we have traced on these stones."
Dot peered out from her little refuge in the Kangaroo's pouch, and saw
the glow of the twilight sky reflected on the top of the boulder. The
rough surface of the stone shone with a beautiful polish like a looking
glass, for the rock had been rubbed for thousands of years by the soft
feet and tails of millions of Kangaroos: kangaroos that had hopped
down that way to get water. When Dot saw that, she didn't know why it
all seemed solemn, or why she felt such a very little girl. She was a
little sad, and the Kangaroo, after a short sigh, continued her way.
As they neared the bottom of the gully the Kangaroo became extremely
cautious. She no longer hopped in the open, but made her way with
little leaps through the thick scrub. She peeped out carefully before
each movement. Her long soft ears kept moving to catch every sound,
and her black sensitive little nose was constantly lifted, sniffing the
air. Every now and then she gave little backward starts, as if she were
going to retreat by the way she had come, and Dot, with her face
pressed against the Kangaroo's soft furry coat, could hear her heart
beating so fast that she knew she was very frightened.
They were not alone. Dot could hear whispers from unseen little
creatures everywhere in the scrub, and from birds in the trees. High
up in the branches were numbers of pigeons--sweet little Bronze-Wings;
and above all the other sounds she could hear their plaintive voices
crying, "We're so frightened! we're so frightened! so thirsty and so
frightened! so thirsty and so frightened!"
"Why don't they drink at the waterhole?" whispered Dot.
"Because they're frightened," was the answer.
"Frightened of what?" asked Dot.
"Humans!" said the Kangaroo, in frightened tones; and as she spoke she
reared up upon her long legs and tail, so that she stood at least six
feet high, and peeped over the bushes; her nose working all round, and
her ears wagging.
"I think it's safe," she said, as she squatted down again.
"Friend Kangaroo," said a Bronze-Wing that had sidled out to the end of
a neighbouring branch, "you are so courageous, will you go first to the
water, and let us know if it is all safe? We haven't tasted a drop of
water for two days," she said, sadly, "and we're dying of thirst. Last
night, when we had waited for hours, to make certain there were no
cruel Humans about, we flew down for a drink--and we wanted, oh! so
little, just three little sips; but the terrible Humans, with their
'bang-bangs,' murdered numbers of us. Then we flew back, and some were
hurt and bleeding, and died of their wounds, and none of us have dared
to get a drink since." Dot could see that the poor pigeon was
suffering great thirst, for its wings were drooping, and its poor dry
beak was open.
The Kangaroo was very distressed at hearing the pigeon's story. "It is
dreadful for you pigeons," she said, "because you can only drink at
evening; we sometimes can quench our thirst in the day. I wish we
could do without water! The Humans know all the water-holes, and
sooner or later we all get murdered, or die of thirst. How cruel they
are!"
Still the pigeons cried on, "we're so thirsty and so frightened;" and
the Bronze-Wing asked the Kangaroo to try again, if she could either
smell or hear a Human near the water-hole.
"I think we are safe," said the Kangaroo, having sniffed and listened
as before; "I will now try a nearer view."
The news soon spread that the Kangaroo was going to venture near the
water, to see if all was safe. The light was very dim, and there was a
general whisper that the attempt to get a drink of water should not be
left later; as some feared such foes as dingos and night birds, should
they venture into the open space at night. As the Kangaroo moved
stealthily forward, pushing aside the branches of the scrub, or
standing erect to peep here and there, there was absolute silence in
the bush. Even the pigeons ceased to say they were afraid, but hopped
silently from bough to bough, following the movements of the Kangaroo
with eager little eyes. The Brush Turkey and the Mound-Builder left
their heaped-up nests and joined the other thirsty creatures, and only
by the crackling of the dry scrub, or the falling of a few leaves,
could one tell that so many live creatures were together in that wild
place.
Presently the Kangaroo had reached the last bushes of the scrub, behind
which she crouched.
"There's not a smell or a sound," she said. "Get out, Dot, and wait
here until I return, and the Bronze-Wings have had their drink; for,
did they see you, they would be too frightened to come down, and would
have to wait another night and day."
Dot got out of the pouch, and she was very sorry when she saw how
terrified her friend looked. She could see the fur on the Kangaroo's
chest moving with the frightened beating of her heart; and her
beautiful brown eyes looked wild and strange with fear.
Instantly, the Kangaroo leaped into the open. For a second she paused
erect, sniffing and listening, and then she hastened to the water. As
she stooped to drink, Dot heard a "whrr, whrr, whrr," and, like falling
leaves, down swept the Bronze-Wings. It was a wonderful sight. The
water-hole shone in the dim light, with the great black darkness of the
trees surrounding it, and from all parts came the thirsty creatures of
the bush. The Bronze-Wings were all together. Hundreds of little heads
bobbed by the edge of the pool, as the little bills were filled, and
the precious water was swallowed; then, together, a minute afterwards,
"whrr, whrr, whrr," up they flew, and in one great sweeping circle they
regained their tree tops. Like the bush creatures, Dot also was
frightened, and running to the water, hurriedly drank, and fled back to
the shelter of the bush, where the Kangaroo was waiting for her.
"Jump in!" said the Kangaroo, "it's never safe by the water," and, a
minute after, Dot was again in the cosy pouch, and was hurrying away,
like all the others, from the water where men are wont to camp, and
kill with their guns the poor creatures that come to drink.
That evening the Kangaroo tried to persuade Dot to eat some grass, but
as Dot said she had never eaten grass, it got some roots from a
friendly Bandicoot, which the little girl ate because she was hungry;
but she thought she wouldn't like to be a Bandicoot always to eat such
food. Then in a nice dry cave she nestled into the fur of the gentle
Kangaroo, and was so tired that she slept immediately.
She only woke up once. She had been dreaming that she was at home, and
was playing with the new little Calf that had come the day before she
was lost, and she couldn't remember, at first waking, what had
happened, or where she was. It was dark in the cave, and outside the
bushes and trees looked quite black--for there was but little light in
that place from the starry sky. It seemed terribly lonesome and wild.
When the Kangaroo spoke she remembered every thing, and they both sat
up and talked a little.
"Mo-poke! mo-poke!" sang the Nightjar in the distance. "I wish the
Nightjar wouldn't make that noise when one wants to sleep," said the
Kangaroo. "It hasn't got any voice to speak of, and the tune is
stupid. It gives me the jim-jams, for it reminds me I've lost my baby
Kangaroo. There is something wrong about some birds that think
themselves musical," she continued: "they are well behaved and
considerate enough in the day, but as soon as it is a nice, quiet, calm
night, or a bit of a moon is in the sky, they make night hideous to
everyone within ear-shot--'Mo-poke! mo-poke!' Oh! it gives me the
blues!"
As the Kangaroo spoke she hopped to the front of the cave.
"I say, Nightjar," she said, "I'm a little sad to-night, please go and
sing elsewhere."
"Ah!" said the Nightjar, "I'm so glad I've given you deliciously dismal
thoughts with my song! I'm a great artist, and can touch all hearts.
That is my mission in the world: when all the bush is quiet, and
everyone has time to be miserable, I make them more so--isn't it lovely
to be like that?"
"I'd rather you sang something cheerful," said the Kangaroo to herself,
but out loud she said, "I find it really too beautiful, it is more than
I can bear. Please go a little further off."
"Mo-poke! mo-poke!!" croaked the Nightjar, further and further in the
distance, as it flew away.
"What a pity!" said the Kangaroo, as she returned to the cave, "the
Possum made that unlucky joke of telling the Nightjar it has a touching
voice, and can sing: everyone has to suffer for that joke of the
Possum's. It doesn't matter to him, for he is awake all night, but it
is too bad for his neighbours who want to sleep."
Just then there arose from the bush a shrill walling and shrieking that
made Dot's heart stop with fear. It sounded terrible, as if something
was wailing in great pain and suffering.
"Oh Kangaroo!" she cried, "what is the matter?" "That," said the
Kangaroo, as she laid herself down to rest, "is the sound of the Curlew
enjoying itself. They are sociable birds, and entertain a great deal.
There is a party to-night, I suppose, and that is the expression of
their enjoyment. I believe," she continued, with a suppressed yawn,
"it's not so painful as it sounds. Willy Wagtail, who goes a great
deal amongst Humans, says they do that sort of thing also; he has often
heard them when he lived near the town."
Dot had never been in the town, but she was certain she had never heard
anything like the Curlew's wailing in her home; and she wondered what
Willy Wagtail meant, but she was too sleepy to ask: so she nestled a
little closer to the Kangaroo, and with the shrieking of the Curlews,
and the mournful note of the distant Mo-poke in her ears, she fell
asleep again.
CHAPTER III.
When Dot awoke, she did so with a start of fear. Something in her
sleep had seemed to tell her that she was in danger. At a first glance
she saw that the Kangaroo had left her, and coiled upon her body was a
young black Snake. Before Dot could move, she heard a voice from a
tree, outside the cave, say, very softly, "Don't be afraid! Keep quite
still, and you will not get hurt. Presently I'll kill that Snake. If
I tried to do so now it might bite you; so let it sleep on."
She looked up in the direction of the tree, and saw a big Kookooburra
perched on a bough, with all the creamy feathers of its breast fluffed
out, and its crest very high. The Kookooburra is one of the jolliest
birds in the bush, and is always cracking jokes, and laughing, but this
one was keeping as quiet as he could. Still he could not be quite
serious, and a smile played all round his huge beak. Dot could see
that he was nearly bursting with suppressed laughter. He kept on
saying, under his breath, "what a joke this is! What a capital joke!
How they'll all laugh when I tell them." Just as if it was the
funniest thing in the world to have a Snake coiled up on one's
body--when the horrid thing might bite one with its poisonous fangs, at
any moment!
Dot said she didn't see any joke, and it was no laughing matter.
"To be sure YOU don't see the joke," said the jovial bird. "On-lookers
always see the jokes, and I'm an on-looker. It's not to be expected of
you, because you're not an on-looker;" and he shook with suppressed
laughter again.
"Where is my dear Kangaroo?" asked Dot.
"She has gone to get you some berries for breakfast," said the
Kookooburra, "and she asked me to look after you, and that's why I'm
here. That Snake got on you whilst I flew away to consult my doctor,
the White Owl, about the terrible indigestion I have. He's very
difficult to catch awake; for he's out all night and sleepy all day.
He says cockchafers have caused it. The horny wing-cases and legs are
most indigestible, he assures me. I didn't fancy them much when I ate
them last night, so I took his advice and coughed them up, and I'm no
longer feeling depressed. Take my advice, and don't eat cockchafers,
little Human."
Dot did not really hear all this, nor heed the excellent advice of the
Kookooburra, not to eat those hard green beetles that had disagreed
with it, for a little shivering movement had gone through the Snake,
and presently all the scales of its shining black back and rosy
underpart began to move. Dot felt quite sick, as she saw the reptile
begin to uncoil itself, as it lay upon her. She hardly dared to
breathe, but lay as still as if she were dead, so as not to frighten or
anger the horrid creature, which presently seemed to slip like a slimy
cord over her bare little legs, and wriggled away to the entrance of
the cave.
With a quick, delighted movement, she sat up, eager to see where the
deadly Snake would go. It was very drowsy, having slept heavily on
Dot's warm little body; so it went slowly towards the bush, to get some
frogs or birds for breakfast. But as it wriggled into the warm morning
sunlight outside, Dot saw a sight that made her clap her hands together
with anxiety for the life of the jolly Kookooburra.
No sooner did the black Snake get outside the cave, than she saw the
Kookooburra fall like a stone from its branch, right on top of the
Snake. For a second, Dot thought the bird must have tumbled down dead,
it was such a sudden fall; but a moment later she saw it flutter on the
ground, in battle with the poisonous reptile, whilst the Snake
wriggled, and coiled its body into hoops and rings. The Kookooburra's
strong wings, beating the air just above the writhing Snake, made a
great noise, and the serpent hissed in its fierce hatred and anger.
Then Dot saw that the Kookooburra's big beak had a firm hold of the
Snake by the back of the neck, and that it was trying to fly upwards
with its enemy. In vain the dreadful creature tried to bite the
gallant bird; in vain it hissed and stuck out its wicked little spiky
tongue; in vain it tried to coil itself round the bird's body; the
Kookooburra was too strong and too clever to lose its hold, or to let
the Snake get power over it.
At last Dot saw that the Snake was getting weak, for, little by little,
the Kookooburra was able to rise higher with it, until it reached the
high bough. All the time the Snake was held in the bird's beak,
writhing and coiling in agony; for he knew that the Kookooburra had won
the battle. But, when the noble bird had reached its perch, it did a
strange thing; for it dropped the Snake right down to the ground. Then
it flew down again, and brought the reptile back to the bough, and
dropped it once more--and this it did many times. Each time the Snake
moved less and less, for its back was being broken by these falls. At
last the Kookooburra flew up with its victim for the last time, and,
holding it on the branch with its foot, beat the serpent's head with
its great strong beak. Dot could hear the blows fall,--whack, whack,
whack,--as the beak smote the Snake's head; first on one side, then on
the other, until it lay limp and dead across the bough.
"Ah! ah! ah! Ah! ah! ah!" laughed the Kookooburra, and said to Dot,
"Did you see all that? Wasn't it a joke? What a capital joke! Ha!
ha! ha! ha! ha! Oh! oh! oh! How my sides do ache! What a joke! How
they'll laugh when I tell them." Then came a great flight of
kookooburras, for they had heard the laughter, and all wanted to know
what the joke was. Proudly the Kookooburra told them all about the
Snake sleeping on Dot, and the great fight! All the time, first one
kookooburra, and then another, chuckled over the story, and when it
came to an end every bird dropped its wings, cocked up its tail, and
throwing back its head, opened its great beak, and laughed uproariously
together. Dot was nearly deafened with the noise; for some chuckled,
some cackled; some said, "Ha! ha! ha!" others said, "Oh! oh! oh!" and
as soon as one left off, another began, until it seemed as though they
couldn't stop. They all said it was a splendid joke, and that they
really must go and tell it to the whole bush. So they flew away, and
far and near, for hours, the bush echoed with chuckling and cackling,
and wild bursts of laughter, as the kookooburras told that grand joke
everywhere.
"Now," said the Kookooburra, when all the others had gone, "a bit of
snake is just the right thing for breakfast. Will you have some,
little Human?"
Dot shuddered at the idea of eating snake for breakfast, and the
Kookooburra thought she was afraid of being poisoned.
"It won't hurt you," he said, kindly, "I took care that it did not bite
itself. Sometimes they do that when they are dying, and then they're
not good to eat. But this snake is all right, and won't disagree like
cockchafers: the scales are quite soft and digestible," he added.
But Dot said she would rather wait for the berries the Kangaroo was
bringing, so the Kookooburra remarked that if she would excuse it he
would like to begin breakfast at once, as the fight had made him
hungry. Then Dot saw him hold the reptile on the branch with his foot,
whilst he took its tail into his beak, and proceeded to swallow it in a
leisurely way. In fact the Kookooburra was so slow that very little of
the snake had disappeared when the Kangaroo returned.
The Kangaroo had brought a pouch full of berries, and in her hand a
small spray of the magic ones, by eating which Dot was able to
understand the talk of all the bush creatures. All the time she was
wandering in the bush the Kangaroo gave her some of these to eat daily,
and Dot soon found that the effect of these strange berries only lasted
until the next day.
The Kangaroo emptied out her pouch, and Dot found quite a large
collection of roots, buds, and berries, which she ate with good
appetite.
The Kangaroo watched her eating with a look of quiet satisfaction.
"See," she said, "how easily one can live in the bush without hurting
anyone; and yet Humans live by murdering creatures and devouring them.
If they are lost in the scrub they die, because they know no other way
to live than that cruel one of destroying us all. Humans have become
so cruel that they kill, and kill, not even for food, but for the love
of murdering. I often wonder," she said, "why they and the dingos are
allowed to live on this beautiful kind earth. The black Humans kill
and devour us; but they, even, are not so terrible as the Whites, who
delight in taking our lives, and torturing us just as an amusement.
Every creature in the bush weeps that they should have come to take the
beautiful bush away from us."
Dot saw that the sad brown eyes of the Kangaroo were full of tears, and
she cried too, as she thought of all that the poor animals and birds
suffer at the hands of white men. "Dear Kangaroo," she said, "if I
ever get home, I'll tell everyone of how you unhappy creatures live in
fear, and suffer, and ask them not to kill you poor things any more."
But the Kangaroo sadly shook her head, and said, "White Humans are
cruel, and love to murder. We must all die. But about your lost way,"
she continued in a brisk tone, by way of changing this painful subject;
"I've been asking about it, and no one has seen it anywhere. Of course
someone must know where it is, but the difficulty is to find the right
one to ask." Then she dropped her voice, and came a little, nearer to
Dot, and stooping down until her little black hands hung close to the
ground, she whispered in Dot's ear, "They say I ought to consult the
Platypus."
"Could the Platypus help, do you think?" Dot asked.
"I NEVER think," said the Kangaroo, "but as the Platypus never goes
anywhere, never associates with any other creature, and is hardly ever
seen, I conclude it knows everything--it must, you know."
"Of course," said Dot, with some doubt in her tone.
"The only thing is," continued the Kangaroo, once more sitting up and
pensively scratching her nose. "The only thing is, I can't bear the
Platypus; the sight of it gives me the creeps: it's such a queer
creature!"
"I've never seen a Platypus," said Dot, "do tell me what it is like!"
"I couldn't describe it," said the Kangaroo, with a shudder, "it seems
made up of parts of two or three different sorts of creatures. None of
us can account for it. It must have been an experiment, when all the
rest of us were made; or else it was made up of the odds and ends of
the birds and beasts that were left over after we were all finished."
Little Dot clapped her hands. "Oh, dear Kangaroo," she said, "do take
me to see the Platypus! there was nothing like that in my Noah's ark."
"I should say not!" remarked the Kangaroo. "The animals in the ark
said they were each to be of its kind, and every sort of bird and beast
refused to admit the Platypus, because it was of so many kinds; and at
last Noah turned it out to swim for itself, because there was such a
row. That's why the Platypus is so secluded. Ever since then no
Platypus is friendly with any other creature, and no animal or bird is
more than just polite to it. They couldn't be, you see, because of
that trouble in the ark."
"But that was so long ago," said Dot, filled with compassion for the
lonely Platypus; "and, after all, this is not the same Platypus, nor
are all the bush creatures the same now as then."
"No," returned the Kangaroo, "and some say there was no ark, and no
fuss over the matter, but that, of course, doesn't make any difference,
for it's a very ancient quarrel, so it must be kept up. But if we are
to go to the Platypus we had better start now; it is a good time to see
it--so come along, little Dot," said the Kangaroo.
CHAPTER IV.
"Good-bye, Kookooburra!" cried Dot, as they left the cave; and the bird
gave her a nod of the head, followed by a wink, which was supposed to
mean hearty good-will at parting. He would have spoken, only he had
swallowed part of the Snake, and the rest hung out of the side of his
beak, like an old man's pipe; so he couldn't speak. It wouldn't have
been polite to do so with his beak full.
Dot was so rested by her sleep all night that she did not ride in the
Kangaroo's pouch; but they proceeded together, she walking, and her
friend making as small hops as she could, so as not to get too far
ahead. This was very difficult for the Kangaroo, because even the
smallest hops carried her far in front. After a time they arranged
that the friendly animal should hop a few yards, then wait for Dot to
catch her up, and then go on again. This she did, nibbling bits of
grass as she waited, or playing a little game of hide-and-seek behind
the bushes.
Sometimes, when she hid like this, little Dot would be afraid that she
had lost her Kangaroo, and would run here and there, hunting round
trees, and clusters of ferns, until she felt quite certain she had lost
the kind animal; when suddenly, clean over a big bush, the Kangaroo
would bound into view, landing right in front of her. Then Dot would
laugh, and rush forward, and throw her arms around her friend; and the
Kangaroo, with a quiet smile, would rub her little head against Dot's
curls, and they were both very happy. So, although it was really a
long and rough way to the little creek where the Platypus lived, it did
not seem at all far.
The stream ran at the bottom of a deep gully, that had high rocky
sides, with strangely shaped trees growing between the rocks. But, by
the stream, Dot thought they must be in fairyland; it was so beautiful.
In the dark hollows of the rocks were wonderful ferns; such delicate
ones that the little girl was afraid to touch them. They were so
tender and green that they could only grow far away from the sun, and
as she peeped into the hollows and caves where they grew, it seemed as
if she was being shown the secret store-house of Nature, where she kept
all the most lovely plants, out of sight of the world. A soft carpet
seemed to spring under Dot's feet, like a nice springy mattress, as she
trotted along. She asked the Kangaroo why the earth was so soft, and
was told that it was not earth, but the dead leaves of the tree-ferns
above them, that had been falling for such a long, long time, that no
Kangaroo could remember the beginning.
Then Dot looked up, and saw that there was no sky to be seen, or tops
of trees; for they were passing under a forest of tree-ferns, and their
lovely spreading fronds made a perfect green tent over their heads.
The sunlight that came through was green, as if you were in a house
made of green glass. All up the slender stems of these tall tree-ferns
were the most beautiful little plants, and many stems were twined, from
the earth to their feather-like fronds, with tender creeping ferns--the
fronds of which were so fine and close, that it seemed as if the
tree-fern were wrapped up in a lovely little fern coat. Even crumbling
dead trees, and decaying tree-ferns, did not look dead, because some
beautiful moss, or lichen, or little ferns had clung to them, and made
them more beautiful than when alive.
Dot kept crying out with pleasure at all she saw; especially when
little Parrakeets, with feathers as green as the ferns, and gorgeous
red breasts, came in flocks, and welcomed her to their favourite haunt;
and, as she had eaten the berries of understanding, and was the friend
of the Kangaroo, they were not frightened, but perched on her shoulders
and hands, and chatted their merry talk all together. The Kangaroo did
not share Dot's enthusiasm for the beauties of the gully. She said it
was pretty, certainly, but a bad place for Kangaroos, because there was
no grass. For her part, she didn't think any sight in nature so lovely
as a big plain, green with the little blades of new spring grass. The
gully was very showy, but not to her mind so beautiful as the other.
Then they came to a stream that gurgled melodiously as it rippled over
stones in its shallow course, or crept round big grey boulders that
were wrapped in thick mosses, in which were mingled flowers of the pink
and red wild fuchsia, or the creamy great blossoms of the rock lily.
Dot ran down the stream with bare feet, laughing as she paddled in and
out among the rocks and ferns, and the sun shone down on the gleaming
foam of the water, and made golden lights in Dot's wild curls. The
Kangaroo, too, was very merry, and bounded from rock to rock over the
stream, showing what wonderful things she could do in that way; and
sometimes they paused, side by side, and peeped down upon some still
pool that showed their two reflections as in a mirror; and that seemed
so funny to Dot, that her silvery laugh woke the silence in happy
peals, until more green-and-red Parrakeets flew out of the bush to join
in the fun.
When they had followed the stream some distance, the gully opened out
into bush scrub. The little Parrakeets then said "Good-bye," and flew
back to their favourite tree-ferns and bush growth; and the Kangaroo
said, that as they were nearing the home of the Platypus, they must not
play in the stream any more; to do so might warn the creature of their
approach and frighten it. "We shall have to be very careful," she
said, "so that the Platypus will neither hear nor smell you. We will
therefore walk on the opposite shore, as the wind will then blow away
from its home."
The stream no longer chattered over rocky beds, but slid between soft
banks of earth, under tufts of tall rushes, grasses, and ferns, and
soon it opened into a broad pool, which was smooth as glass. The
clouds in the sky, the tall surrounding trees, and the graceful ferns
and rushes of the banks, were all reflected in the water, so that it
looked to Dot like a strange upside-down picture. This, then, was the
home of that wonderful animal; and Dot felt quite frightened, because
she thought she was going to see something terrible.
At the Kangaroo's bidding, she hid a little way from the edge of the
pool, but she was able to see all that happened.
The Kangaroo evidently did not enjoy the prospect of conversing with
the Platypus. She kept on fidgeting about, putting off calling to the
Platypus by one excuse and another: she was decidedly ill at ease.
"Are you frightened of the Platypus?" asked Dot.
"Dear me, no!" replied the Kangaroo, "but I'd rather have a talk with
any other bush creature. First of all, the sight of it makes me so
uncomfortable, that I want to hop away the instant I set eyes upon it.
Then, too, it's so difficult to be polite to the Platypus, because one
never knows how to behave towards it. If you treat it as an animal,
you offend its bird nature, and if you treat it as a bird, the animal
in it is mighty indignant. One never knows where one is with a
creature that is two creatures," said the Kangaroo.
Dot was so sorry for the perplexity of her friend, that she suggested
that they should not consult the Platypus. But the Kangaroo said it
must be done, because no one in the bush was so learned. Being such a
strange creature, and living in such seclusion, and being so difficult
to approach was a proof that it was the right adviser to seek. So,
with a half desperate air, the Kangaroo left the little girl, and went
down to the water's edge.
Pausing a moment, she made a strange little noise that was something
between a grunt and a hiss: and she repeated this many times. At last
Dot saw what looked like a bit of black stick, just above the surface
of the pool, coming towards their side, and, as it moved forward,
leaving two little silvery ripples that widened out behind it on the
smooth waters. Presently the black stick, which was the bill of the
Platypus, reached the bank, and the strangest little creature climbed
into view. Dot had expected to see something big and hideous; but here
was quite a small object after all! It seemed quite ridiculous that
the great Kangaroo should be evidently discomposed by the sight.
Dot could not hear what the Kangaroo said, but she saw the Platypus
hurriedly prepare to regain the water. It began to stumble clumsily
down the bank. The Kangaroo then raised her voice in pleading accents.
"But," she said, "it's such a little Human! I have treated it like my
baby Kangaroo, and have carried it in my pouch."
This information seemed to arrest the movements of the Platypus; it had
reached the water's edge, but it paused, and turned.
"I tell you," it said in a high-pitched and irritable voice, "that all
Humans are alike! They all come here to interview me for the same
purpose, and I'm resolved it shall not happen again; I have been
insulted enough by their ignorance."
"I assure you," urged the Kangaroo, "that she will not annoy you in
that way. She wouldn't think of doing such a thing to any animal."
As the Kangaroo called the Platypus an animal, Dot saw at once that it
was offended, and in a great huff it turned towards the pool again. "I
beg your pardon," said the Kangaroo nervously. "I didn't mean an
altogether animal, or even a bird, but any a--a--a----." She seemed
puzzled how to speak of the Platypus, when the strange creature,
seeing the well-meaning embarrassment of the Kangaroo, said affably,
"any mammal or Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus."
"Exactly," said the Kangaroo, brightening up, although she hadn't the
least idea what a mammal was.
"Well, bring the little Human here," said the Platypus in a more
friendly tone, "and if I feel quite sure on that point I will permit an
interview."
Two bounds brought the Kangaroo to where Dot was hidden. She seemed
anxious that the child should make a good impression on the Platypus,
and tried with the long claws on her little black hands to comb through
Dot's long gleaming curls; but they were so tangled that the child
called out at this awkward method of hairdressing, and the Kangaroo
stopped. She then licked a black smudge off Dot's forehead, which was
all she could to tidy her. Then she started back with a hop, and eyed
the child with her head on one side. She was not quite satisfied.
"Ah!" she said, "if only you were a baby Kangaroo I could make you look
so nice! But I can't do anything to your sham coat, which gets worse
every day, and your fur is all wrong, for one can't get one's claws
through it. You Humans are no good in the bush!"
"Never mind, dear Kangaroo," said the little girl; "when I get home
mother will put me on a new frock, and will get the tangles out of my
hair. Let us go to the Platypus now."
The Kangaroo felt sad as Dot spoke of returning home, for she had
become really fond of the little Human. She began to feel that she
would be lonely when they parted. However, she did not speak of what
was in her mind, but bounded back to the Platypus to wait for Dot.
When the little girl reached the pool, she was still more surprised, on
a nearer view of the Platypus, that the Kangaroo should think so much
of it. At her feet she beheld a creature like a shapeless bit of wet
matted fur. She thought it looked like an empty fur bag that had been
fished out of the water. Projecting from the head, that seemed much
nearer to the ground than the back, was a broad duck's bill, of a dirty
grey colour; and peeping out underneath were two fore feet that were
like a duck's also. Altogether it was such a funny object that she was
inclined to laugh, only the Kangaroo looked so serious, that she tried
to look serious too, as if there was nothing strange in the appearance
of the Platypus.
"I am the Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus!" said the Platypus pompously.
"I am Dot," said the little girl.
"Now we know one another's names," said the Platypus, with
satisfaction. "If the Kangaroo had introduced us, it would have
stumbled over my name, and mumbled yours, and we should have been none
the wiser. Now tell me, little Human, are you going to write a book
about me? Because, if you are, I'm off. I can't stand any more books
being written about me; I've been annoyed enough that way."
"I couldn't write a book," said Dot, with surprise inwardly wondering
what anyone could find to make a book of, out of such a small, ugly
creature.
"You're quite sure?" asked the Platypus, doubtfully, and evidently more
than half inclined to dive into the pool.
"Quite," said Dot.
"Then I'll try to believe you," said the Platypus, clumsily waddling
towards some grass, amongst which it settled itself comfortably. "But
it's very difficult to believe you Humans, for you tell such dreadful
fibs," it continued, as it squirted some dirty water out of the bag
that surrounded its bill, and swallowed some water beetles, small
snails and mud that it had stored there. "See, for instance, the way
you have all quarrelled and lied about me! First one great Human, the
biggest fool of all, said I wasn't a live creature at all, but a joke
another Human had played upon him. Then they squabbled together one
saying I was a Beaver; another, that I was a Duck; another, that I was
a Mole, or a Rat. Then they argued whether I was a bird, or an animal,
or if we laid eggs, or not; and everyone wrote a book, full of lies,
all out of his head.
"That's the way Humans amuse themselves. They write books about things
they don't understand, and keep the game going by each new book saying
the others are all wrong. It's a silly game, and very insulting to the
creatures they write about. Humans at the other end of the world, who,
never took the trouble to come here to see me, wrote books about me.
Those who did come were more impudent than those who stayed away.
Their idea of learning all about a creature was to dig up its home, and
frighten it out of its wits, and kill it; and after a few moons of that
sort of foolery they claimed to know all about us. Us! whose
ancestors knew the world millions of years before the ignorant Humans
came on the earth at all!" The Platypus spluttered out more dirty
water, in its indignation.
The Kangaroo became very timid, as it saw the rising anger of the
Platypus, and whispered to Dot to say something to calm the little
creature.
"A million years is a very long time," said Dot; unable at the moment
to think of anything better to say. But this remark angered the
Platypus more, for it seemed to suspect Dot of doubting what it said.
It clambered up into a more erect position, and its little brown eyes
became quite fiery.
"I didn't say a million; I said millions! I can prove by a bone in my
body that my ancestors were the Amphitherium, the Amphilestes, the
Phascolotherium, and the Stereognathus!" almost shrieked the little
creature.
Dot didn't understand what all these words meant, and looked at the
Kangaroo for an explanation; but she saw that the Kangaroo didn't
understand either, only she was trying to hide her ignorance by a calm
appearance, while she nibbled the end of a long grass she held in her
fore paw. But Dot noticed, by the slight trembling of the little black
paw, that the Kangaroo was very nervous. She thought she would try and
say something to please Platypus; so she asked, very kindly, if the
bone ever hurt it. But this strange creature did not seem to notice
the remark. Settling itself more comfortably amongst the grass, it
muttered in calmer tones, "I trace my ancestry back to the oolite age.
Where does man come in?"
"I don't know," said Dot.
"Of course you don't replied the Platypus, contemptuously, Humans are
so ignorant! That's because they are so new. When they have existed a
few more million years, they will be more like us of old families;
they will respect quiet, exclusive living, like that of the
Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus, and will not be so inquisitive, pushing, and
dangerous as now. The age will come when they will understand, and
will cease to write books, and there will be peace for everyone."
The Kangaroo now thought it a good opportunity to change the subject,
and gently introduced the topic of Dot's lost way, saying how she had
found the little girl, and had taken care of her ever since.
The Platypus did not seem interested, and yawned more than once whilst
the Kangaroo spoke.
"The question is," concluded the Kangaroo, "whom shall I ask to find
it? Someone must know where it is."
"Of course," said the Platypus, yawning again, without so much as
putting its web foot in front of its bill, which Dot thought very rude,
or else very ancient manners. "Little Human," it said, "tell me what
kind of bush creatures come about your burrow."
"We live in a cottage," she said, but seeing that the Platypus did not
like to be corrected, and that the Kangaroo looked quite shocked at her
doing so, she hurriedly described the creatures she had seen there.
She said there were Crickets, Grasshoppers, Mice, Lizards, Swallows,
Opossums, Flying Foxes, Kookooburras, Magpies, and Shepherd's
Companions----
"Stop!" interrupted the Platypus, with a wave of its web foot; "that is
the right one."
"Who?" asked the Kangaroo and Dot anxiously, together.
"The bird you call Shepherd's Companion. Some of you call it Rickety
Dick, or Willy Wagtail." Turning to the Kangaroo especially, it
continued, "If you can bring yourself to speak to anything so obtrusive
and gossiping, without any ancestry or manners whatever, you will be
able to learn all you need from that bird. Humans and Wagtails
fraternise together. They're both post-glacial."
"I knew you could advise me," said the Kangaroo gratefully.
"Oh! Platypus, how clever you are!" cried Dot, clapping her hands.
Directly Dot had spoken she saw that she had offended the queer little
creature before her. It raised itself with an air of offended dignity
that was unmistakable.
"The name Platypus is insulting," it remarked, looking at the child
severely, "it means BROAD-FOOTED, a vulgar pseudonym which could only
have emanated from the brutally coarse expressions of a Human. My name
is Ornithorhyncus Paradoxus. Besides, even if my front feet can
expand, they can also contract; see! as narrow and refined as a bird's
claw. Observe, too, that my hind feet are narrow, and like a seal's
fin, though it has been described as a mole's foot."
As the Platypus spoke, and thrust out its strangely different feet, the
Kangaroo edged a little closer to Dot and whispered in her ear. "It's
getting angry, and is beginning to use long words; do be careful what
you say or it will be terrible!"
"I beg your pardon," said Dot; "I did not wish to hurt your feelings,
Para--Pa--ra--dox--us."
"ORNITHORHYNCHUS Paradoxus, if you please," insisted the little
creature. "How would you like it if your name was Jones-Smith-Jones,
and I called you one Jones, or one Smith, and did not say both the
Joneses and the Smiths? You have no idea how sensitive our race is.
You Humans have no feelings at all compared with ours. Why, my fifth
pair of nerves are larger than a man's! Humans get on my nerves
dreadfully!" it ended in disgusted accents.
"She did not mean to hurt you," said the gentle Kangaroo, soothingly.
"Is there anything we can do to make you feel comfortable again?"
"There is nothing you can do," Sighed the Platypus, now mournful and
depressed. "I must sing. Only music can quiet my nerves. I will
sing a little threnody composed by myself, about the good old days of
this world before the Flood." And as it spoke, the Platypus moved into
an upright position amongst the tussock grass, and after a little cough
opened its bill to sing.
The Kangaroo kept very close to Dot, and warned her to be very
attentive to the song, and not to interrupt it on any account. Almost
before the Kangaroo had ceased to whisper in her ear, Dot heard this
strange song, sung to the most peculiar tune she had ever heard, and in
the funniest of little squeaky voices.
The fairest Iguanodon reposed upon the shore
Extended lay her beauteous form, a hundred feet and more.
The sun, with rays flammivomous, beat on the blue-black sand;
And sportive little Saurians disported on the strand
But oft the Iguanodon reproved them in their glee,
And said, "Alas! this Saurian Age is not what it should be!"
Then, forth from that archaic sea, the Ichthyosaurus
Uprose upon his finny wings, with neocomian fuss,
"Oh, Iguanodon!" he cried, as he approached the shore,
"Why art thou thus dysthynic, love? Come, rise with me, and soar,
Or leave these estuarian seas, and wander in the grove;
Behold! a bird-like reptile fish is dying for thy love!"
Then, through the dark coniferous grove they wandered side by side,
The tender Iguanodon and Ichthyosaurian bride
And through the enubilious air, the carboniferous breeze,
Awoke, with their amphibious sighs, the silence in the trees.
"To think," they cried, botaurus-toned, "when ages intervene,
Our osseous fossil forms will be in some museum seen!"
Bemoaning thus, by dumous path, they crushed the cycad's growth,
And many a crash, and thunder, marked the progress of them both.
And when they reached the estuary, the excandescent sun
Was setting o'er the hefted sea; their saurian day was done.
Then raised they paraseline eyes unto the flaming moon,
And wept--the Neocomian Age was passing all too soon!
Oh, Iguanodon! oh, earth! oh, Ichthyosaurus
Oh, Melanocephalous saurians! Oh! oh! oh!
(Here the Platypus was sobbing)
Oh, Troglyodites obscure--oh! oh!
At this point of the song, the poor Platypus, whose voice had trembled
with increasing emotion and sobbing in each verse, broke down, overcome
by the extreme sensitiveness of its fifth pair of nerves and the
sadness of its song, and wept in terrible grief.
The gentle Kangaroo was also deeply moved, seeing the Platypus in such
sorrow, and Dot mastered her aversion to touching cold, damp fur, and
stroked the little creature's head.
The Platypus seemed much soothed by their sympathy, but hurriedly bade
them farewell. It said it must try and restore its shattered fifth
pair of nerves by a few hydrophilus latipalpus beetles for lunch, and a
sleep.
It wearily dragged itself down to the edge of the pool, and looked
backwards to the Kangaroo and Dot, who called out "Good-bye" to it.
Its eyes were dim with tears, for it was still thinking of the
Iguanodon and ichthyosaurus, and of the good old days before the Flood.
"It breaks my heart to think that they are all fossils," it exclaimed,
mournfully shaking its head. "Fossils!" it repeated, as it plunged
into the pool and swam away. "Fossils!" it cried once more, in far,
faint accents; and a second later it dived out of sight.
For several moments after the Platypus had disappeared from view, the
Kangaroo and Dot remained just as it had left them. Then Dot broke the
silence.
"Dear Kangaroo," said she, "what was that song about?"
"I don't know," said the animal wistfully, "no one ever knows what the
Platypus sings about."
"It was very sad," said Dot.
"Dreadfully sad!" sighed the Kangaroo; "but the Platypus is a most
learned and interesting creature," she added hastily. "Its
conversation and songs are most edifying; everyone in the bush admits
it."
"Does anyone understand its conversation?" asked Dot. She was afraid
she must be very stupid, for she hadn't understood anything except that
Willy Wagtail could help them to find her way.
"That is the beauty of it all," said the Kangaroo, "the Platypus is so
learned and so instructive, that no one tries to understand it; it is
not expected that anyone should."
CHAPTER V.
"Now we must find Willy Wagtail," said the Kangaroo. "The chances are
Click-i-ti-clack, his big cousin who lives in the bush, will be able to
tell us where to find him; for he doesn't care for the bush, and lives
almost entirely with Humans, and the queer creatures they have brought
into the country now-a-days. We may have to go a long way, so hop into
my pouch, and we will get on our way."
Once more Dot was in the kind Kangaroo's pouch. It was in the latter
end of autumn, and the air was so keen, that, as her torn little frock
was now very little protection to her against the cold, she was glad to
be back in that nice fur bag. She was used now to the springy bounding
of the great Kangaroo, and felt quite safe; so that she quite enjoyed
the wonderful and seemingly dangerous things the animal did in its
great leaps and jumps.
With many rests and stops to eat berries or grass on their way, they
searched the bush for the rest of the day without finding the big bush
Wagtail. All kinds of creatures had seen him, or heard his strange
rattling, chattering song; but it always seemed that he had just flown
off a few minutes before they heard of him. It was most vexatious, and
Dot saw that another night must pass before they would be able to hear
of her home. She did not like to think of that, for she could picture
to herself all those great men, on their big rough horses, coming back
to her father's cottage that night, and how they would begin to be
quiet and sad.
She thought it would not be half so bad to be lost, if people at home
could only know that one was safe and snug in a kind Kangaroo's pouch;
but she knew that her parents could never suppose that she was so well
cared for, and would only think that she was dying alone in the
terrible bush--dying for want of food and water, and from fear and
exposure. How strange it seemed that people should die like that in
the bush, where so many creatures lived well, and happily! But then
they had not bush friends to tell them what berries and roots to eat,
and where to get water, and to cuddle them up in a nice warm fur during
the cold night. As she thought of this she rubbed her face against the
Kangaroo's soft coat, and patted her with her little hands; and the
affectionate animal was so pleased at these caresses, that she jumped
clean over a watercourse, twenty feet at least, in one bound.
It was getting evening time, and the sun was setting with a beautiful
rosy colour, as they came upon a lovely scene. They had followed the
watercourse until it widened out into a great shallow creek beside a
grassy plain. As they emerged from the last scattered bushes and trees
of the forest, and hopped out into the open side of a range of hills,
miles and miles of grass country, with dim distant hills, stretched
before them. The great shining surface of the creek caught the rosy
evening light, and every pink cloudlet in the sky looked doubly
beautiful reflected in the water. Here and there out of the water
arose giant skeleton trees, with huge silver trunks and contorted dead
branches. On these twisted limbs were numbers of birds; Shag, blue and
white Cranes, and black and white Ibis with their bent bills. Slowly
paddling on the creek, with graceful movements, were twenty or thirty
black Swans, and in and out of their ranks, as they passed in stately
procession, shot wild Ducks and Moor Hens, like a flotilla of little
boats amongst a fleet of big ships. All these birds were watching a
pretty sight that arrested Dot's attention at once. By the margin of
the creek, where tufted rushes and tall sedges shed their graceful
reflection on the pink waters, were a party of Native Companions
dancing.
"In these times it is seldom we can see a sight like this," said the
Kangaroo. "The water is generally too unsafe for the birds to enjoy
themselves. It often means death to them to have a little pleasure."
As the Kangaroo spoke, one of the Native Companions caught sight of
her, and leaving the dance, opened her wings, and still making dainty
steps with her long legs, half danced and half flew to where the
Kangaroo was sitting.
"Good evening, Kangaroo," she said, gracefully bowing; "will you not
come a little nearer to see the dance?" Then the Native Companion saw
Dot in the Kangaroo's pouch, and made a little spring of surprise.
"Dear me!" she said, "what have you in your pouch?"
"It's a Human," said the Kangaroo, apologetically; "it's quite a
little, harmless one. Let me introduce you."
So Dot alighted from the pouch, and joined in the conversation, and the
Native Companion was much interested in hearing her story.
"Do you dance?" asked the Native Companion, with a quick turn of her
head, on its long, graceful neck. Dot said that she loved dancing. So
the Native Companion took her down to the creek, and all the other
Companions stopped dancing and gathered round her, whilst she was
introduced, and her story told. Then they spread their wings, and with
stately steps escorted her to the edge of the water, whilst the
Kangaroo sat a little way off, and delightedly watched the proceedings.
Dot didn't understand any of the figures of the dance; but the scenery
and the pink sunset were so beautiful, and the Native Companions were
so elegant and gay, that Dot caught up her ragged little skirts in both
hands and followed their movements with her bare brown feet as best she
could, and enjoyed herself very much. To Dot, the eight birds that
took part in the entertainment were very tall and splendid, with their
lovely grey plumage and greeny heads, and she felt quite small as they
gathered round her sometimes, and enclosed her within their outspread
wings. And how beautiful their dancing was! How light their dainty
steps as their feet scarcely touched the earth; and what fantastic
measures they danced--advancing, retreating, circling round--with their
beautiful wings keeping the rhythm of their feet! There was one figure
that Dot thought the prettiest of all--when they danced in line at the
margin of the water; stepping, and bowing, and gracefully gyrating to
their shadows, which were reflected with the pink clouds of evening on
the surface of the creek.
Dot was very sorry, and hot, and breathless, when the dance came to an
end. The sun had been gone a long time, and all the pink shades had
slowly turned to grey; the creek had lost its radiant colour, and
looked like a silver mirror, and so desolate and sombre, that no one
could have imagined it to have been the scene of so much gaiety shortly
before.
Dot hastily returned to the Kangaroo, and all the Native Companions
came daintily, and made graceful adieus to them both. Afterwards, they
spread their great, soft wings, and, stretching their long legs behind
them, wheeled upwards to the darkening sky. Then all the birds in the
bare trees preened their feathers, and settled down for the night; and
the Kangaroo took her little Human charge back to the bush, where there
was a cosy sheltering rock, under which to pass the night. Here they
lay down together, with the stars peeping at them through the branches
of the trees.
They had slept for a long time, as it seemed to Dot, when they were
awakened by a little voice saying,
"Wake up, Kangaroo! You are in danger. Get away, as soon as possible!"
The moon was shining fitfully, as it broke through swift flying clouds.
In the uncertain light, Dot could see a little creature near them, and
knew at once that it was an Opossum.
"What is the matter?" said the Kangaroo, softly. "Blacks!" said the
Opossum. And as it spoke, Dot heard a sound as of a half dingo dog
howling and snapping in the distance. As that sound was heard, the
Opossum made one flying leap to the nearest tree, and scrambled out of
sight in a moment.
"I wish he had told us a little more," said the Kangaroo. "Still, for
a possum, it was a good-natured act to wake me up. They are selfish,
spiteful little beasts, as a rule. Now I wonder where these blacks
are? I shall have to go a little way to sniff and listen. I won't go
far, so don't be afraid, but stay quietly here until I come back."
CHAPTER VI.
It was terrible to Dot to see the Kangaroo hop off into the dark bush,
and to find herself all alone; so she crawled out from under the ledge
of rock into the moonlight, and sat on a stone where she could see the
sky, and watch the black ragged clouds hurry over the moon. But the
bush was not altogether quiet. She could hear an owl hooting at the
moon. Not far off was a camp of quarrelsome Flying Foxes, and the
melancholy Nightjar in the distance was fulfilling its mission of
making all the bush creatures miserable with its incessant, mournful
"mo-poke! mo-poke!" As Dot could understand all the voices, it amused
her to listen to the wrangles of the Flying Foxes, as they ate the
fruit of a wild fig tree near by. She saw them swoop past on their
huge black wings with a solemn flapping. Then, as each little Fox
approached the tree, the Foxes who were there already screamed, and
swore in dreadfully bad language at the visitor. For every little Fox
on the tree was afraid some other Flying Fox would eat all the figs,
and as each visitor arrived he was assailed with cries of, "Get away
you're not wanted here!"
"This is my branch, my figs!"
"Go and find figs for yourself!"
"These figs are not half ripe like the juicy ones on the other side of
the tree!"
Then the new-comer Flying Fox, with a spiteful squeal, would pounce
down on a branch already occupied, and angry spluttering and screams
would arise, followed by a heavy fall of fighting Foxes tumbling with a
crash through the trees. Then out into the open sky swept dozens of
black wings, accompanied by abusive swearing from dozens of wicked
little brown Foxes; and, as they settled again on the tree, all the
fighting would begin again, so that the squealing, screaming, and
swearing never ended.
As Dot was listening to the fighting of the Flying Foxes, she heard a
sound near her that alarmed her greatly. It was impossible to say what
the noise was like. It might have been the braying of a donkey mixed
up with the clattering of palings tumbled together, and with grunts and
snorts. Dot started to her feet in fright, and would have run away,
only she was afraid of being lost worse than ever, so she stood still
and looked round for the terrible monster that could make such
extraordinary sounds. The grunts and clattering stopped, and the noise
died away in a long doleful bray, but she could not see where it came
from. Having peered into the dark shadows, Dot went more into the
open, and sat with her back to a fallen tree, keeping an anxious watch
all round.
"Perhaps," she thought, "It is the blacks. What would they do if they
found me? What will happen if they have killed my dear Kangaroo?" And
she covered her face with her hands as this terrible thought came into
her head. Soon she heard something coming towards her stealthily and
slowly. She would not look up she was so frightened. She was sure it
was some fierce looking black man, with his spear, about to kill her.
She shut her eyes closer, and held her breath. "Perhaps," she thought,
"he will not see me." Then a cold shiver went through her little body,
as she felt something claw hold of her hair, and she thought she was
about to be killed. She kept her eyes shut, and the clawing went on,
and then to her astonishment she heard an animal voice say in wondering
tones:
"Why, it's fur! How funny it looked in the moonlight!"
Then Dot opened her eyes very wide and looked round, and saw a funny
native Bear on the tree trunk behind her. He was quite clearly to be
seen in the moonlight. His thick, grey fur, that looked as if he was
wrapped up to keep out the most terribly cold weather; his short,
stumpy, big legs, and little sharp face with big bushy ears, could be
seen as distinctly as in daylight. Dot had never seen one so near
before, and she loved it at once, it looked so innocent and kind.
"You dear little native Bear!" she exclaimed, at once stroking its head.
"Am I a native Bear?" asked the animal in a meek voice. "I never heard
that before. I thought I was a Koala. I've always been told so, but
of course one never knows oneself. What are you? Do you know?"
"I'm a little girl," replied Dot, proudly.
The Koala saw that Dot was proud, but as it didn't see any reason why
she should be, it was not a bit afraid of her.
"I never heard of one or saw one before," it said, simply. "Do you
burrow, or live in a tree?"
"I live at home," said Dot; but, wishing to be quite correct, she
added, "that is, when I am there."
"Then, where are you now?" asked the Koala, rather perplexed.
"I'm not at home," replied Dot, not knowing how to make her position
clear to the little animal.
"Then you live where you don't live?" said the Koala; "Where is it?"
and the little Bear looked quite unhappy in its attempt to understand
what Dot meant.
"I've lost it," said Dot. "I don't know where it is."
"You make my head feel empty," said the Koala, sadly. "I live in the
gum tree over there. Do you eat gum leaves?"
"No. When I'm at home I have milk, and bread, and eggs, and meat."
"Dear me!" said the Koala. "They're all new to one. Is it far? I
should like to see the trees they grow on. Please show me the way."
"But I can't," said Dot; "they don't grow on trees, and I don't know my
way home. It's lost, you see."
"I don't see," said the native Bear. "I never can see far at night,
and not at all in daylight. That is why I came here. I saw your fur
shining in the moonlight, and I couldn't make out what it was, so I
came to see. If there is anything new to be seen, I must get a near
view of it. I don't feel happy if I don't know all about it. Aren't
you cold?"
"Yes, I am, a little, since my Kangaroo left me," Dot said.
"Now you make my head feel empty again," said the Koala, plaintively.
"What has a Kangaroo got to do with your feeling cold? What have you
done with your fur?"
"I never had any," said Dot, "only these curls," and she touched her
little head.
"Then you ought to be black," argued the Koala. "You're not the right
colour. Only blacks have no fur, but what they steal from the proper
owners. Do you steal fur?" it asked in an anxious voice.
"How do they steal fur?" asked Dot.
The Koala looked very miserable, and spoke with horror. "They kill us
with spears, and tear off our skins and wear them, because their own
skins are no good."
"That's not stealing," said Dot; "that's killing;" and, although it
seemed very difficult to make the little Bear understand, she
explained: "Stealing is taking away another person's things; and when
a person is dead he hasn't anything belonging to him, so it's not
stealing to take what belonged to him before, because it isn't his any
longer--that is, if it doesn't belong to anyone else."
"You make my head feel empty," complained the Koala. "I'm sure you're
all wrong; for an animal's skin and fur is his own, and it's his life's
business to keep it whole. Everyone in the bush is trying to keep his
skin whole, all day long, and all night too. Good gracious! What is
the matter up there?"
A terrible hullabaloo between a pair of Opossums up a neighbouring gum
tree arrested the attention of both Dot and the Koala. Presently the
sounds of snarling, spitting, and screaming ended, and an Opossum
climbed out to the far end of a branch, where the moonlight shone on
his grey fur like silver. There he remained snapping and barking
disagreeable things to his mate, who climbed up to the topmost branch,
and snarled and growled back equally unpleasant remarks.
"Why don't you bring in gum leaves for to-morrow, instead of sleeping
all day and half the night too?" shouted the Opossum on the branch to
his wife. "You know I get hungry before daylight is over, and hate
going out in the light."
"Get them yourself, you lazy loon!" retorted the lady Opossum. "If you
disturb my dreams again this way, I'll make your fur fly."
"Take care!" barked back her husband, "or I'll bring you off that
branch pretty quickly."
"You'd better try!" sneered his wife. "Remember how I landed you into
the billabong the other night!"
The taunt was too much for the Opossum on the branch; he scuttled up
the tree to reach his mate, who sprang forward from her perch into the
air. Dot saw her spring with her legs all spread out, so that the
skinny flaps were like furry wings. By this means she was able to
break her fall, and softly alighting on the earth, a moment after, she
had scrambled up another tree, followed by her mate. From tree to
tree, from branch to branch, they fled or pursued one another, with
growls, screams, and splutters, until they disappeared from sight.
"How unhappy those poor Opossums must be, living in the same tree,"
said Dot; "why don't they live in different trees?"
"They wouldn't be happy," observed the Koala, "they are so fond of one
another."
"Then why do they quarrel?" asked Dot.
"Because they live in the same tree of course," said the Koala. "If
they lived in different trees, and never quarrelled, they wouldn't like
it at all. They'd find life dull, and they'd get sulky. There's
nothing worse than a sulky possum. They are champions at that."
"They make a dreadful noise with their quarrelling," said Dot. "They
are nearly as bad as the Flying Foxes over there. I wonder if they
made that fearful sound I heard just before you came?"
"I expect what you heard was from me," said the Koala; "I had just
awakened, and when I saw the moon was up I felt pleased."
"Was all that sound and many noises yours?" asked Dot with
astonishment, as she regarded the shaggy little animal on the tree
trunk.
The Koala smiled modestly. "Yes!" it said; "when I am pleased there is
no creature in the bush can make such a noise, or so many different
noises at once. I waken every one for a quarter of a mile round. You
wouldn't think it, to see me as I am, would you?" The Koala was
evidently very pleased with this accomplishment.
"It isn't kind of you to wake up all the sleeping creatures," said Dot.
"Why not?" asked the Koala. "You are a night creature, I suppose, or
you wouldn't be awake now. Well, don't you think it unfair the way
everything is arranged for the day creatures?"
"But then," said Dot, "there are so many more day creatures."
"That doesn't make any difference," observed the Koala.
"But it does," said Dot.
"How?" asked the native Bear.
"Because if you had the day it wouldn't be any good to you, and if they
had the night it wouldn't be any good to them. So your night couldn't
be their day, and their day couldn't be your night."
"You make my head feel empty," said the Koala. "But you'd think
differently if a flock of Kookooburras settled on your tree, and
guffawed idiotically when you wanted to sleep."
"As you don't like being waked yourself, why do you wake others then?"
asked Dot.
"Because this is a free country," said the Koala. While Dot was trying
to understand why the Koala's reason should suffice for one animal
making another's life uncomfortable, she was rejoiced to see the
Kangaroo bound into sight. She forgot all about the Koala, and rushed
forward to meet it.
CHAPTER VII.
"I'm so glad you have come back!" she exclaimed.
The Kangaroo was a little breathless and excited. "We are not in
danger at present," she said, "but one never knows when one will be, so
we must move; and that will be more dangerous than staying where we
are."
"Then let us stay," said Dot.
"That won't do," replied the Kangaroo, "This is the conclusion I have
jumped to. If we stay here, the blacks might come this way and their
dingo dogs hunt us to death. To get to a safe place we must pass their
camp. That is a little risky, but we must go that way. We can do this
easily if the dogs don't get scent of us, as all the blacks are
prancing about and making a noise, having a kind of game in fact, and
they are so amused that we ought to get past quite safely. I've done
it many times before at night."
Dot looked round to say good-bye to the Koala, but the little animal
had heard the Kangaroo speak of blacks, and that word suggested to its
empty little head that it must keep its skin whole, so, without waiting
to be polite to Dot, it had sneaked up its gum tree and was well out of
sight.
Without wasting time, Dot settled in the Kangaroo's pouch, and they
started upon their perilous way.
For some distance the Kangaroo hopped along boldly, with an occasional
warning to Dot to shut her eyes as they plunged through the bushes; but
after crossing a watercourse, and climbing a stiff hill, she whispered
that they must both keep quite silent, and told Dot to listen as she
stopped for a moment.
Dot could hear to their right a murmuring of voices, and a steady
beating sound.
"Their camp is over there," said the Kangaroo, "that is the sound of
their game."
"Can't we go some other way?" asked Dot. "No," answered the Kangaroo,
"because past that place we can reach some very wild country where it
would be hard for them to pursue us. We shall have to pass quite close
to their playground." So in perfect silence they went on.
The Kangaroo seemed to Dot to approach the whereabouts of the black
fellows as cautiously as when they had visited the water-hole the first
night. Dot's little heart beat fast as the sound of the blacks'
corroboree became clearer and clearer, and they neared the scene of the
dance. Soon she could hear the stamping of feet, the beating of
weapons together, and the wild chanting; and sometimes there were the
whimperings of dogs, and the cry of children at the camp a little
distance from the corroboree ground.
The Kangaroo showed no signs of fear at the increasing noise of the
blacks, but every sound of a dog caused it to stop and twist about its
big ears and sensitive nose, as it sniffed and listened.
Soon Dot could see a great red glare of firelight through the trees
ahead of their track, and she knew that in that place the tribe of
black men were having a festive dance.
If they had gone on their way it is possible that they would have
slipped past the blacks without danger. But although the Kangaroo is
as timid an animal as any in the bush, it is also very curious, and
Dot's Kangaroo wished to peep at the corroboree. She whispered to Dot
that it would be nice for a little Human to see some other Humans after
being so long amongst bush creatures, and said, also, that there would
be no great danger in hopping to a rock that would command a view of
the open ground where the corroboree was being held. Of course Dot
thought this would be great fun, so the Kangaroo took her to the rock,
where they peeped through the trees and saw before them the weird
scene and dance.
Dot nearly screamed with fright at the sight. She had thought she
would see a few black folk, not a crowd of such terrible people as she
beheld. They did not look like human beings at all, but like dreadful
demons, they were so wicked and ugly in appearance. The men who were
dancing were without clothes, but their black bodies were painted with
red and white stripes, and bits of down and feathers were stuck on
their skin. Some had only white stripes over the places where their
bones were, which made them look like skeletons flitting before the
fire, or in and out of the surrounding darkness. The dancing men were
divided from the rest of the tribe by a row of fires, which, burning
brightly, lit the horrid scene with a lurid red light. The firelight
seemed to make the ferocious faces of the dancers still more hideous.
The tribe people were squatting in rows on the ground, beating
boomerangs and spears together, or striking bags of skin with sticks,
to make an accompaniment to the wailing song they sang. Sometimes the
women would cease beating the skin bags, to clap their hands and strike
their sides, yelling the words of the corroboree song as the painted
figures, like fiends and skeletons, danced before the row of fires.
It was a terrifying sight to Dot. "Oh, Kangaroo!" she whispered, "they
are dreadful, horrid creatures."
"They're just Humans," replied the Kangaroo, indulgently.
"But white Humans are not like that," said Dot.
"All Humans are the same underneath, they all kill Kangaroos," said the
Kangaroo. "Look there! They are playing at killing us in their dance."
Dot looked once more at the hideous figures as they left the fire and
behaved like actors in a play. One of the black fellows had come from
a little bower of trees, and wore a few skins so arranged as to make
him look as much like a Kangaroo as possible, whilst he worked a stick
which he pretended was a Kangaroo's tail, and hopped about. The other
painted savages were creeping in and out of the bushes with their
spears and boomerangs as if they were hunting, and the dressed-up
Kangaroo made believe not to see them, but stooped down, nibbling grass.
"What an idea of a Kangaroo!" sniffed Dot's friend, "why, a real
Kangaroo would have smelt or heard those Humans, and have bounded away
far out of sight by now."
"But it's all sham," said Dot; "the black man couldn't be a real
Kangaroo."
"Then it just shows how stupid Humans are to try and be one," said her
friend. Humans think themselves so clever, she continued, "but just
see what bad Kangaroos they make--such a simple thing to do, too! But
their legs bend the wrong way for jumping, and that stick isn't any
good for a tail, and it has to be worked with those big, clumsy arms.
Just see, too, how those skins fit! Why it's enough to make a
Kangaroo's sides split with laughter to see such foolery!" Dot's
friend peeped at the black's acting with the contempt to be expected of
a real Kangaroo, who saw human beings pretending to be one of those
noble animals. Dot thought the Kangaroo had never looked so grand
before. She was so tall, so big, and yet so graceful: a really
beautiful creature.
"Well, that's over!" remarked the Kangaroo, as one of the blacks
pretended to spear the dressed-up black fellow, and all the rest began
to dance around, whilst the sham Kangaroo made believe to be dead.
"Well, I forgive their killing such a silly creature! There wasn't a
jump in it."
After more dancing to the singing and noise of the on-lookers, a black
fellow came from the little bower in the dim back-ground, with a
battered straw hat on, and a few rags tied round his neck and wrist, in
imitation of a collar and cuffs. The fellow tried to act the part of a
white man, although he had no more clothes on than the old hat and
rags. But, after a great deal of dancing, he strutted about, pulled up
the rag collar, made a great fuss with his rag cuffs, and kept taking
off his old straw hat to the other black fellows, and to the rest of
the tribe, who kept up the noise on the other side of the fires.
"Now this is better!" said the Kangaroo, with a smile. "It's very
silly, but Willy Wagtail says that is just the way Humans go on in the
town. Black Humans can act being white Humans, but they are no good as
Kangaroos."
Dot thought that if men behaved like that in towns it must be very
strange. She had not seen any like the acting black fellow at her
cottage home. But she did not say anything, for it was quite clear in
her little mind that black fellows, Kangaroos, and willy wagtails had a
very poor opinion of white people. She felt that they must all be
wrong; but, all the same, she sometimes wished she could be a noble
Kangaroo, and not a despised human being.
"I wish I were not a white little girl," she whispered to the Kangaroo.
The gentle animal patted her kindly with her delicate black hands.
"You are as nice now as my baby Kangaroo," she said sadly, "but you
will have to grow into a real white Human. For some reason there have
to be all sorts of creatures on the earth. There are hawks, snakes,
dingoes and humans, and no one can tell for what good they exist. They
must have dropped on to this world by mistake for another, where there
could only have been themselves. After all," said the kind animal, "It
wouldn't do for every one to be a Kangaroo, for I doubt if there would
be enough grass; but you may become an improved Human."
"How could I be that?" asked Dot, eagerly.
"Never wear kangaroo leather boots--never use kangaroo skin rugs,
and"--here it hesitated a little, as though the subject were a most
unpleasant one to mention.
"Never do what?" enquired Dot, anxious to know all that she should do,
so as to be improved.
"Never, never eat Kangaroo-tail soup!" said the Kangaroo, solemnly.
"I never will," said Dot, earnestly, "I will be an improved Human."
This conversation had been so serious to both Dot and the Kangaroo,
that they had quite forgotten the perilousness of their position.
Perhaps this was because the Kangaroo cannot think, but it quickly
jumped to the conclusion that they were in danger.
Whilst they had been peeping at the corroborees, and talking, the dingo
dogs that had been prowling around the camp, had caught scent of the
Kangaroo; and, following the trail, had set up an angry snapping and
howling.
The instant this sound was heard by the Kangaroo, she made an immense
bound, and as she seemed to fly through the bush, Dot could hear the
sounds of the corroboree give place to a noise of shouting and
disorder: the dingo dogs and the Blacks were all in pursuit, and Dot's
Kangaroo, with little Dot in her pouch, was leaping and bounding at a
terrific pace to save both their lives!
CHAPTER VIII.
It was fortunate that the Kangaroo could not think of all that might
befall them, or she never could have had courage for the wonderful
feats of jumping she performed. Poor little Dot, whose busy brain
pictured all kinds of terrible fates, was so overcome with fear that
she seemed hardly to know what had, happened; and the more she thought,
the more terrified she became.
The Kangaroo did not attempt to continue the upward ascent, but
followed a slope of the rugged hill, leaping from rock to rock. This
was better than trying to escape where the trees and shrubs would have
prevented her making those astonishing bounds. But the clouds had left
the moon clear for a while, so that the black fellows and dogs easily
followed every movement, as they pursued the hunt on a smoother level
below. The blacks were trying to hurry on, so as to cut off the
Kangaroo's retreat at a spur of the hill, where, to get away, she would
have to leave the rocks and descend towards them. In the meantime
Dot's ears were filled with the sounds of snarling snaps from the dingo
dogs, and hideous noises from the blacks, encouraging the animals to
attack the Kangaroo. But what pained her most were the gasps and
little moans of her good friend, as she put such tremendous power into
every leap she made for their lives; crashing through twigs, and
scattering stones and pebbles, in the wild speed of their flight.
Then Dot's busy little brain told her another thing, which made her
more miserable. It was quite clear that the poor Kangaroo was getting
rapidly exhausted, owing to her having to bear Dot's weight. Her
panting became more and more distressing, and so did her sad moans and
flecks of foam from her straining lips fell on Dot's face and hands.
Dot knew that her Kangaroo was trying to save her at the risk of her
own life. Without the little girl in her pouch, she might get away
safely; but, with her to carry, they would both probably fall victims
to the fierce blacks and their dogs.
"Kangaroo! Kangaroo!" she cried, "put me down; drop Dot anywhere,
anywhere, but don't get killed yourself!"
But all Dot heard was a little hissing sound from the brave animal,
which sounded like, "Never again!"
"You will be killed," moaned Dot.
"Together!" said the little hissing voice, as another great bound
brought them to the spur of the hill; and then the Kangaroo had to
pause.
In that moment Dot seemed to hear and see everything. They were
perched on a rock, and the moonlight lit all their surroundings like
day. To the right was a deep black chasm, with a white foaming
waterfall pouring into the darkness below. In front was the same wide
chasm, only less wide, and beyond it, on the other side of the great
yawning cleft in the earth, was a wild spread of morass country--a
gloomy, terrible-looking place. To the left was a steep slope of small
rocks and stones, leading downwards to the hollow of sedgy land that
fringed the cliffs of the chasm. The only retreat possible was to pass
down this declivity, and try to escape by the sedgy land, and this is
what the black huntsmen had expected. It was a very weird and desolate
place; and everything looked dark and dismal, under the moonlight, as
it streamed between stormy black clouds. In that light Dot could see
the blacks hurrying forward. Already one of the dogs had far outrun
the others, and with wolfish gait and savage sounds, was pressing
towards their place of observation.
The panting, trembling Kangaroo saw the approaching dog, also, and
leaped down from the crag. As she dropped to earth, she stooped, and
quickly lifted Dot out of her pouch, and, almost before Dot could
realize the movement, she found herself standing alone, whilst the
Kangaroo hopped forward to the front of a big boulder, as if to meet
the dog. Here the poor hunted creature took her stand, with her back
close to the rock. Gentle and timid as she was, and unfitted by nature
to fight for her life against fierce odds, it was brave indeed of the
poor Kangaroo to face her enemies, prepared to do battle for the lives
of little Dot and herself.
So noble did Dot's Kangaroo look in that desperate moment, standing
erect, waiting for her foe, and conquering her naturally frightened
nature by a grand effort of courage, that it seemed impossible that
either dogs or men should be so cruel as to take her life. For a
moment the dingo hound seemed daunted by her bravery, and paused a
little way off, panting, with its great tongue lolling out of its
mouth. Dot could see its sharp, wicked teeth gleaming in the
moonlight. For a few seconds it hesitated to make the attack, and
looked back down the slope, to see if the other dogs were coming to
help; but they were only just beginning the ascent, and the shouting
black fellows were further off still. Then the dog could no longer
control its savage nature. It longed to leap at the poor Kangaroo's
throat--that pretty furry throat that Dot's arms had so often encircled
lovingly, and it was impatient to fix its terrible teeth there, and
hold, and hold, in a wild struggle, until the poor Kangaroo should
gradually weaken from fear and exhaustion, and be choked to death.
These thoughts filled the dog with a wicked joy. It wouldn't wait any
longer for the other dingo hounds. It wanted to murder the Kangaroo
all by itself; so, with a toss of its head, and a terrible snarl, it
sprang forward ferociously, with open jaws, aiming at the victim's
throat.
Dot clasped her cold hands together. Tears streamed down her cheeks,
and her little voice, choking with sobs, could only wail, "Oh! dear
Kangaroo! my dear Kangaroo! Don't kill my dear Kangaroo!" and she ran
forward to throw herself upon the dog and try to save her friend.
But before the terrified little girl could reach the big rock, the dog
had made its spring upon her friend. The brave Kangaroo, instead of
trying to avoid her fierce enemy, opened her little arms, and stood
erect and tall to receive the attack. The dog in its eagerness, and
owing to the nature of the ground, misjudged the distance it had to
spring. It failed to reach the throat it had aimed at, and in a moment
the Kangaroo had seized the hound in a tight embrace. There was a
momentary struggle, the dog snapping and trying to free itself, and the
Kangaroo holding it firmly. Then she used the only weapon she had to
defend herself from dogs and men--the long sharp claw in her foot.
Whilst she held the dog in her arms, she raised her powerful leg, and
with that long, strong claw, tore open the dog's body. The dog yelped
in pain as the Kangaroo threw it to the ground, where it lay rolling in
agony and dying; for the Kangaroo had given it a terrible wound. The
other dogs were still some distance below, and the cries of their
companion caused them to pause in fear and wonder, while the black men
could be seen advancing in the dim light, flourishing their spears and
boomerangs. It was impossible to retreat that way; and where Dot and
her Kangaroo were, they were hemmed in by a rocky cliff and the deep
black chasm. The Kangaroo saw at a glance where lay their only chance
of life. She picked up Dot, placed her in her pouch, and without a
word leaped forward towards that fearful gulf of darkness and foaming
waters. As they neared the spot, Dot saw that the hunted animal was
going to try and leap across to the other side. It seemed impossible
that with one bound she could span that terrible place and reach the
sedged morass beyond; and still more impossible that it should be done
by the poor animal with heavy Dot in her pouch. Again Dot cried, "Oh!
darling Kangaroo, leave me here, and save yourself. You can never,
never do it carrying me!"
All she heard was something like "try," or "we'll die." She could not
make out what the Kangaroo said, for the crashing of the waterfall, the
whistling of the wind, and the scattering of stones as they dashed
forward, made such a storm of noises in her ears. She could see when
they reached the grassy fringe of the precipice, where the Kangaroo was
able to quicken her pace, and literally seemed to fly to their fate.
Then came the last bound before the great spring. Dot held her breath,
and a feeling of sickness came over her. Her head seemed giddy, and
she could not see, but she clasped her hands together and said, "God
help my Kangaroo!" and then she felt the fearful leap with the rush
through the air.
Yes! they had reached the other side. No! they had not quite: what
was the matter? What a struggle! Stones falling, twigs and grasses
wrenching, the courageous Kangaroo fighting for a foothold on the very
brink of the precipice. What a terrible moment! Every second Dot felt
sure they would fall backward and drop deep into the gully below, to be
dashed to pieces on the rocks and the tree tops. But God did help
Dot's Kangaroo; the little reeds and rushes held tightly in the earth,
and the poor struggling animal, exerting all her remaining strength,
gained the reedy slope safely. She staggered forward a few reeling
hops, and then fell to the earth like a dead creature. In an instant
Dot was out of the pouch and had her arm round the poor animal's neck,
crying, as she saw blood and foam oozing from her mouth, and a strange
dim look in her sad eyes.
"Don't die, dear Kangaroo! Oh, please don't die!" cried Dot, wringing
her hands, and burying her face in the fur of the poor gasping creature.
"Dot," panted the Kangaroo, "make a noise! Cry loud! Not safe yet!"
The little girl didn't understand why the Kangaroo wanted her to make a
noise, and she had, in her fear and sorrow, quite forgotten their
pursuers. But now she turned, and could hear the blacks, urging on
their dogs as they were making an attempt to skirt round the precipice,
and gain the other side of the chasm. So Dot did as she was told, and
screamed and cried like the most naughty of children; and the gasping
Kangaroo told her to go on doing so.
Then what seemed to Dot a very terrifying thing happened; for she soon
heard other cries mingle with hers. From the desolate morass, and from
the gully in darkness below, came the sound of a bellowing. She
stopped crying and listened, and could hear those awesome voices all
around, and the echoes made them still more hobgoblinish. The
Kangaroo's eyes brightened, as she restrained her panting, and listened
also. "Go on," she said, "we're safe now," so Dot made more crying,
and her noises and the others would have frightened anyone who had
heard them in that lonely place, with the wind storming in the trees,
and the black clouds flying over the moon. It frightened the black
fellows directly.
They stopped in their headlong speed, shouting all together in their
shrill voices, "The Bunyip! The Bunyip!" and they tumbled over one
another in their hurry to get away from a place haunted, as they
thought, by that wicked demon which they fear so much. At full speed
they fled back to their camp, with the sound of Dot's cries, and the
mysterious bellowing noise, following them on the breeze; and they
never stopped running until they regained the light of their camp
fires. There they told the gins, in awe-struck voices, how it had been
no Kangaroo they had hunted, but the "Bunyip", who had pretended to be
one. And the black gins' eyes grew wider and wider, and they made
strange noises and exclamations, as they listened to the story of how
the "Bunyip" had led the huntsmen to that dreadful place. How it had
torn one of the dogs to pieces, and had leaped over the precipice into
Dead Man's Gully, where it had cried like a picaninny, and bellowed
like a bull. No one slept in the camp that night, and early the next
morning the whole tribe went away, being afraid to remain so near the
haunt of the dreaded "Bunyip."
Dot saw the flight of the blacks in the dim distance, and told the good
news to the Kangaroo, who, however, was too exhausted to rejoice at
their escape. She still lay where she had fallen, gasping, and with
her tongue hanging down from her mouth like that of a dog.
In vain Dot caressed her, and called her by endearing names; she lay
quite still, as if unable to hear or feel. Dot's little heart swelled
within her, and taking the poor animal's drooping head on her lap, she
sat quite still and tearless; waiting in that solitude for her one
friend to die--leaving her lonely and helpless.
Presently she was startled by hearing a brisk voice: "Then it was a
human picaninny, after all! Well, my dear, what are you doing here?"
Dot turned her head without moving, and saw a little way behind her a
brown bird on long legs, standing with its feet close together, with
the self-satisfied air of a dancing master about to begin a lesson.
Dot did not care for any other creature in the Bush just then but her
Kangaroo, and the perky air of the bird annoyed her in her sorrow.
Without answering, she bent her head closer down to that of her poor
friend, to see if her eyes were still shut, and wondered if they would
ever open and look bright and gentle again.
The little brown bird strutted with ail important air to where it had a
better view of Dot and her companion, and eyed them both in the same
perky manner. "Friend Kangaroo's in a bad way," it said; "why don't
you do something sensible, instead of messing about with its head?"
"What can I do?" whimpered Dot.
"Give it water, and damp its skin, of course," said the little Bird,
contemptuously. "What fools Humans are," it exclaimed to itself. "And
I suppose you will tell me there is no water here, when all the time
you are sitting on a spring."
"But I'm sitting on grass," said Dot, now fully attentive to the bird's
remarks.
"Well, booby," sneered the bird, "and under the grass is wet moss,
which, if you make a hole in it, will fill with water. Why, I'd do it
myself, in a moment, only your claws are better suited for the purpose
than mine. Set about it at once!" it said sharply.
In an instant Dot did what the bird directed, and thrust her little
hands into the soft grass roots and moss, out of which water pressed,
as if from a sponge. She had soon made a little hole, and the most
beautiful clear water welled up into it at once. Then, in the hollows
of her little hands, she collected it, and dashed it over the
Kangaroo's parched tongue, and, further instructed by the kindly though
rude little bird, she had soon well wetted the suffering animal's fur.
Gradually the breathing of the Kangaroo became less of an effort, her
tongue moistened and returned to the mouth, and at last Dot saw with
joy the brown eyes open, and she knew that her good friend was not
going to die, but would get well again. Whilst all this took place,
the little brown bird stood on one leg, with its head cocked on one
side, watching the Kangaroo's recovery with a comic expression of
curiosity and conceit. When it spoke to Dot, it did so without any
attempt at being polite, and Dot thought it the strangest possible
creature, because it was really very kind in helping to save the
Kangaroo's life, and yet it seemed to delight in spoiling its
kind-heartedness by its rudeness. Afterwards the Kangaroo told her
that the little Bittern is a really tender-hearted fellow, but he has
an idea that kindness in rather small creatures provokes the contempt
of the big ones. As he always wants to be thought a bigger bird than
he is, he pretends to be hard-hearted by being rough; consequently,
nearly all the Bush creatures simply regard him as a rude little bird,
because bad manners are no proof of being grown-up; rather the contrary.
"How do you feel now?" asked the Bittern, as the Kangaroo presently
struggled up and squatted rather feebly on her haunches, looking about
in a somewhat dazed way.
"I'm better now," said the Kangaroo, "but, dear me, how everything
seems to dance up and down!" She shut her eyes, for she felt giddy.
"That was rather a good jump of yours," said the Bittern,
patronizingly, as if jumps for life like that of Dot's Kangaroo were
made every day, and he was a judge of them!
"Ah, I remember!" said the Kangaroo, opening her eyes again and looking
round. "Where is Dot?"
"Umph, that silly!" exclaimed the Bittern, as Dot came forward, and she
and the Kangaroo rejoiced over each other's safety. "Much good she'd
have been to you with the blacks, and their dogs after you, if we
Bitterns hadn't played that old trick of ours of scaring them with our
big voices. He! he! he!" it chuckled, "how they did run when we tuned
up! They thought the Bunyip had got them this time. Didn't we laugh!"
"It was very good of you," said the Kangaroo gratefully, "and it is not
the first time you have saved Kangaroos by your cleverness. I didn't
know you Bitterns were near, so I told Dot to make a noise in the hope
of frightening them."
The Bittern was really touched by the Kangaroo's gratitude, and was
delighted at being called clever, so it became still more ungracious.
"You needn't trouble me with thanks," it said indifferently, "we didn't
do it to save you, but for our own fun. As for that little stupid," it
continued, with a nod of the head towards Dot, "her squeals were no
more good than the squeak of a tree frog in a Bittern's beak."
"But you were very kind," said Dot, "and showed me how to get water to
save Kangaroo's life."
The Bittern was greatly pleased at this praise, and in consequence it
got still ruder, and making a face at Dot, exclaimed, "Yah!" and
stalked off. But when it had gone a few steps it turned round and said
to the Kangaroo, roughly, "If you hop that way, keeping to the side of
the sedges, and go half a dozen small hops beyond that white gum tree,
you'll find a little cave. It's dry and warm, and good enough for
Kangaroos." And without waiting for thanks for this last kind act, it
spread its wings and flew away.
CHAPTER IX.
The Kangaroo, hopping very weakly, and little Dot trudging over the
oozy ground, followed the Bittern's directions and found the cave,
which proved a very snug retreat. Here they lay down together, full of
happiness at their escape, and worn out with fatigue and excitement,
they were soon fast asleep.
The next day, before the sun rose, the Bittern visited the cave.
"Hullo, you precious lazy pair! I've been over there," and it tossed
its beak in the direction of the blacks' camp. "They're off northward.
Too frightened to stay. I thought you might like the news brought you,
since you're too lazy to get it for yourselves!" and off it went again
without saying good-bye.
"Now isn't he a kind little fellow?" said the Kangaroo. "That's his
way of telling us that we are safe."
"Thanks, Bittern! thanks!" they both cried, but the creamy brown bird
paid no attention to their gratitude: it seemed absorbed in looking for
frogs on its way.
All that day the Kangaroo and Dot stayed near the cave, so that the
poor animal might get quite well again. The Kangaroo said she did not
know that part of the country, and so she had better get her legs again
before they faced fresh dangers. Neither of them was so bright and
merry as before. The weather was showery, and Dot kept thinking that
perhaps she would never get home, now she had been so long away, and
she kept remembering the time when the little boy was lost and
everyone's sadness.
The Kangaroo too seemed melancholy.
"What makes you sad?" asked Dot.
"I am thinking of the last time before this that I was hunted. It was
then I lost my baby Kangaroo," she replied.
"Oh! you poor dear thing!" exclaimed Dot, "and have you been hunted
before last night?"
"Yes," said the Kangaroo with a little weary sigh. "It was just a few
days before I found you. White Humans did it that time."
"Tell me all about it," said Dot. "How did you escape?"
"I escaped then," said the Kangaroo, settling herself on her haunches
to tell the tale, "in a way I could have done last night. But I will
die sooner than do it again."
"Tell me," repeated Dot.
"There is not much to tell," said the Kangaroo. "My little Joey was
getting quite big, and we were very happy. It was a lovely Joey. It
was so strong, and could jump so well for its size. It had the
blackest of little noses and hands and tail you ever saw, and big soft
ears which heard more quickly than mine. All day long I taught it
jumping, and we played and were merry from sunrise to sunset. Until
that day I had never been sad, and I thought all the creatures must be
wrong to say that in this beautiful world there could be such cruel
beings as they said White Humans were. That day taught me I was wrong,
and I know now that the world is a sad place because Humans make it so;
although it was made to be a happy place. We were playing on the side
of a plain that day, and our game was hide and seek in the long grass.
We were having great fun, when suddenly little Joey said, 'strange
creatures are coming, big ones.'
"I hopped up to the stony rise that fringed the plain, and I thought as
I did so that I could hear a new sound on the breeze. Joey hid in the
grass, but I went boldly into the open on the hillside to see where the
danger was. I saw, far off, Humans on their big animals that go so
quickly, and directly I hopped into the open, they raised a great noise
like the blacks did last night, and I could see by the movement in the
grass that they had those dreadful dogs they teach to kill us: they
are far worse than dingoes. Joey heard the shouting and bounded into
my pouch, and I went off as fast as I could. It was a worse hunt than
last night, for it was longer, and there was no darkness to help me. I
gradually got ahead in the chase, and I knew if I were alone I could
distance them all; for we had seen them a long way off. But little
Joey was heavy, though not so heavy as you are, and in the long
distance I began to feel weak, as I did last night.
"I knew if I tried to go on as we were, that those cruel Humans (doing
nothing but sit quietly on those big beasts, which have four legs and
never get tired) would overtake us, and their dogs (which carry no
weight and go so fast) would tear me down before their masters even
arrived, for I was going gradually slower. So I asked Joey if I
dropped him into a soft bush whether he would hide until I came back
for him. It was our only chance. I had an idea that if I did that he
would be safe--even if I got killed; as they would be more likely to
follow me, and never think I had parted from my little Joey. So we did
this, and I crossed a creek, which put the hounds off the scent, and I
got away. In the dusk I came back again to find Joey, but he had gone,
and I could not find a trace of him. All night and all day I searched,
but I've never seen my Joey since," said the Kangaroo sadly, and Dot
saw the tears dim her eyes.
Dot could not speak all she felt. She was so sorry for the Kangaroo,
and so ashamed of being a Human. She realised too, how good and
forgiving this dear animal was; how she had cared for her, and nearly
died to save her life, in spite of the wrongs done to her by human
beings.
"When I grow up," she said, "I will never let anyone hurt a bush
creature. They shall all be happy where I am."
"But there are so many Humans. They're getting to be as many as
Kangaroos." said the animal reflectively, and shook her head.
CHAPTER X.
The fourth day of Dot's wanderings in the Bush dawned brightly. The
sun arose in a sky all gorgeous in gold and crimson, and flashed upon a
world glittering with dewy freshness. Sweet odours from the aromatic
bush filled the air, and every living creature made what noise it
could, to show its joy in being happy and free in the beautiful Bush.
Rich and gurgling came the note of the magpies, the jovial kookooburras
saluted the sun with rollicking laughter, the crickets chirruped, frogs
croaked in chorus, or solemnly "popped" in deep vibrating tones, like
the ring of a woodman's axe. Every now and then came the shriek of the
plover, or the shrill cry of the peeweet; and gayer and more lively
than all others was the merry clattering of the big bush wagtail in the
distance.
As soon as the Kangaroo heard the Bush Wagtail, she and Dot hurried
away to find him. No Christy Minstrel rattling his bones ever made a
merrier sound. "Click-i-ti-clack, click-i-ti-clack, clack, clack,
clack, clack, click-i-ti-clack," he rattled away as fast as he could,
just as if he hadn't a moment to waste for taking breath, and as if the
whole lovely world was made for the enjoyment of Bush Wagtails.
When Dot and the Kangaroo found him, he was swaying about on a branch,
spreading his big tail like a fan, and clattering gaily; but he stopped
in surprise as soon as he saw his visitors.
After greetings, he opened the conversation by talking of the weather,
so as to conceal his astonishment at seeing Dot and the the Kangaroo
together.
"Lovely weather after the rain," he said; "the showers were needed very
much, for insects were getting scarce, and I believe grass was rank,
and not very plentiful. There will be a green shoot in a few days,
which will be very welcome to Kangaroos. I heard about you losing your
Joey--my cousin told me. I was very sorry; so sad. Ah! well, such
things will happen in the bush to anyone. We were most fortunate in
our brood; none of the chicks fell out of the nest, every one of them
escaped the Butcher Birds and were strong of wing. They are all doing
well in the world."
Then the vivacious bird came a little nearer to the Kangaroo, and,
dropping his voice, said:
"But, friend Kangaroo, I'm sorry to see you've taken up with Humans.
You know I have quite set my face against being on familiar terms with
them, although my cousin is intimate with the whole race. Take my word
for it, they're most uncertain friends. Two Kookooburras were shot
last week, in spite of Government protection. Fact!" And as the bird
spoke he nodded his head warningly towards the place where Dot was
standing.
"This little Human has been lost in our Bush," said the Kangaroo; "one
had to take care of her, you know."
"Of course, of course; there are exceptions to all rules," chattered
the Wagtail. "And so this is really the lost little Human there has
been such a fuss about!" added he, eyeing Dot, and making a long
whistle of surprise. "My cousin told me all about it."
"Then your cousin, Willy Wagtail, knows her lost way," said the
Kangaroo joyfully, and Dot came a little nearer in her eagerness to
hear the good news.
"Of course he does," answered the bird; "there's nothing happens that
he doesn't know. You should have hunted him up."
"I didn't know where to find him," said the Kangaroo, "and I got into
this country, which is new to me."
"Why he is in the same part that he nested in last season. It's no
distance off," exclaimed the Wagtail. "If you could fly, you'd be
there almost directly!" Then the bird gave a long description of the
way they were to follow to find his cousin Willy, and with many warm
thanks the Kangaroo and Dot bade him adieu.
As they left the Bush Wagtail they could hear him singing this song,
which shows what a merry, happy fellow he is:
Click-i-ti, click-i-ti-clack!
Clack! clack! clack! clack!
Who could cry in such weather, 'alack!'
With a sky so blue, and a sun so bright,
Sing 'winter, winter, winter is back!'
Sportive in flight, chatter delight,
Click-i-ti, click-i-ti-clack!
I'm so glad that I have the knack
Of singing clack! clack! clack!
If you wish to be happy, just follow my track,
Take this for a motto, this for a code,
Sing 'winter, winter, winter is back!'
Leave care to a toad, and live a la mode!
Click-i-ti, click-i-ti-clack!
They had no difficulty in following the Wagtail's directions. They
soon struck a creek they had been told to pursue to its end, and about
noon they found themselves in very pretty country. It reminded Dot of
the journey they had made to find the Platypus, for there were the same
beautiful growths of fern and shrubs. There were also great trailing
creepers which hung down like ropes from the tops of the tall trees
they had climbed. These ropelike coils of the creepers made capital
swings, and often Dot clambered into one of the big loops and sat
swinging herself to and fro, laughing and singing, much to the delight
and amusement of the Kangaroo.
Swing! swing! a bird on the wing
Is not more happy than I!
Stooping to earth, and seeking the sky.
Swing! swing! swing!
See how high upward I fly!
Here, midst the leaves I swing;
Then, as fast to my swing I cling,
Down I come from the sky!
Swing! swing! a bird on the wing
Is not more happy than I!
Thus sang little Dot, tossing herself backwards and forwards, and the
Kangaroo, squatting below, came to the conclusion that there was
something very sweet about little Humans, and that Dot was certainly
quite as nice as a Joey Kangaroo.
In the middle of one of these little swinging diversions, a bird about
the size of a pigeon, with the most wonderfully shiny plumage, flew to
the tree from which Dot's creeper swing hung. Dot was so struck by the
bird's beautiful blue-black glossy appearance, and its brightly
contrasting yellow beak and legs, that she stopped swinging at once.
"You ARE a pretty bird!" she said.
"I am a Satin Bower Bird," it said. "We heard you singing, and we
thought, therefore, that you probably enjoy parties, so I have come to
invite you to one of our assemblies which will take place shortly.
Friend Kangaroo, we know, is of a somewhat serious nature, but probably
she will do us the pleasure of accompanying you to our little
entertainment."
"I shall have great pleasure in doing so," said the Kangaroo; "I have
not been to any of your parties for a long time. You know, I suppose,
that I lost my Joey very sadly."
"We heard all about it," replied the Bower Bird in a tone of
exaggerated, almost ridiculous sadness, for it was so anxious that the
Kangaroo should think that it felt very deeply for her loss. "We were
in the middle of a meeting at the time the Wallaby brought the news,
and we were so sad that we nearly broke up our assembly. But it would
have been a pity to do so, really, as the young birds enjoy themselves
so much at the 'Bower of Pleasure'. But," said the Satin Bird, with a
sudden change of tone from extreme sorrow to one of vivacious interest
I must show you the way to the bower, or you would never find it.
Dot jumped down from the swing, and she and the Kangaroo, guided by the
Satin Bird, made their way through some very thickly-grown bush. The
bird was certainly right in saying that they would never have found the
Bower of Pleasure without a guide. It was carefully concealed in the
most densely grown scrub. As they were pushing their way through a
thicket of shrubs, before reaching the open space where the Satin
Birds' bower was built, they beard an increasing noise of birds all
talking to one another. The din of this chattering was enhanced
considerably by the shrill sounds of tree frogs and crickets, and the
hubbub made Dot feel like the little Native Bear--as if her "head was
empty."
"This will be a very pleasant party," said the Satin Bird, "there is
plenty of conversation, so everyone's in a good humour."
"Do you think anyone is listening, or are they all talking?" enquired
the Kangaroo timidly.
"Nobody would attempt to listen," answered the Satin Bird, "it would be
impossible against the music of the tree frogs and crickets, so
everyone talks."
"I should tell the tree frogs and crickets to be quiet," said Dot, "no
one seems to care for their music."
"Oh, without music it would be very dull," explained the Satin Bird.
"No one would care to talk. You understand, it would be awkward,
someone might overhear what was said."
As the bird spoke the trio reached the place where the bower was
situated.
Dot thought it a most curious sight. In the middle of an open space
the birds had built the flooring of twigs, and upon that they had
erected a bower about three feet high, also constructed of twigs
interwoven with grass, and arranged so as nearly to meet at the top in
an arched form.
"It's a new bower, and more commodious than our last," said the Satin
Bird with an air of great satisfaction. "What do you think of the
decorations?"
In a temporary lull of the frog and cricket band and the conversation,
Dot and the Kangaroo praised the bower and its decorations, and
enquired politely how the birds had managed to procure such a
collection of ornaments for their pleasure hall. Several young bower
birds came and joined in the chat, and Dot was surprised to see how
different their plumage was from the satin blue-black of the old birds.
These younger members of the community were of a greenish yellow
colour, with dark pencillings on their feathers, and had no glossy
sheen like their elders.
Each of them pointed out some ornament that it had brought with which
to deck the bower. One had brought the pink feathers of a Galah, which
had been stuck here and there amongst the twigs. Others had collected
the delicate shells of land snails, and put them round about the
entrance. But the birds that were proudest of their contributions were
those who had picked up odds and ends at the camps of bushmen.
"That beautiful bright thing I brought from a camp a mile away," said a
bird, indicating a tag from a cake of tobacco.
"But it isn't so pretty as mine," said another, pointing to the glass
stopper of a sauce bottle.
"Or mine," chimed in another bird, as it claimed a bright piece of tin
from a milk-can that was inserted in the twigs just above the entrance
of the bower.
"Nonsense, children!" said a grave old Satin Bird, "your trifles are
not to be compared with that beautiful object I found to-day and
arranged along the top of the bower. The effect is splendid!"
As he spoke, Dot observed that, twined amidst the topmost twigs of the
construction was a strip of red flannel from an old shirt, a bedraggled
red rag that must have been found in an extinct camp fire, judging by
its singed edges.
The day Dot had lost her way she had been threading beads, and she
still had upon her finger a ring of the pretty coloured pieces of
glass. She saw the old Satin Bird look at this ring longingly, so she
pulled it off, and begged that it might be added to the other
decorations. It was instantly given the place of honour--over the
entrance and above the piece of milk tin.
This gift from Dot caused an immediate flow of conversation, because
every bird was pleased to have something to talk about. They all began
to say how beautiful the beads were. "Quite too lovely!" said one.
"What a charming little Human!" exclaimed another. "Just the finish
that our bower required," was a general remark, and a great many kept
exclaiming, "So tasteful!" "So sweet!" "How elegant!" "Exquisite!"
"It's a love!" "It's a dear!" and so on. A great deal more was said,
but the oldest bower bird, thinking that all the adjectives were
getting used up, told the frogs and crickets to start the music again,
so as to keep the excitement going, and all further observations were
drowned in the noise.
Presently the younger birds flew down to the bower, and began to play
and dance. Like a troop of children, they ran round and round the
bower, and to and fro through it, gleefully chasing each other. Then
they would assemble in groups, and hop up and down, and dance to one
another in what Dot thought a rather awkward fashion; but she was
thinking of the elegance and grace of the Native Companions, who can
make beautiful movements with their long legs and necks, whilst these
little bower birds are rather ungainly in their steps.
What amused her was to see how the young cock birds showed off to the
little hens. They were conceited fellows, and only seemed happy when
they had five or six little hens looking admiringly at their every
movement. At such times they would dance and hop with great delight;
and the little hens, in a circle round them, watched their hops and
steps with absorbed interest. Immensely pleased with himself, the
young dancer would fluff out his feathers, so as to look as big as
possible, and after strutting about, would suddenly shoot out a leg and
a wing, first on one side and then on the other, then spring high into
the air, and do a sort of step dance when his feet touched the earth
again. Endless were the tricks he resorted to, to show off his
feathers and dancing to the best advantage; and the little hens watched
it all with silent intentness.
In the meantime the frogs and crickets stopped to rest, and Dot could
hear the conversation of some of the old birds perched near her. A
little party of elderly hens were discussing the young birds who were
dancing at the bower.
"I must say I don't admire that new step which is becoming so popular
amongst the young birds," said one elderly hen; and all her companions
rustled their feathers, closed their beaks tightly, and nodded their
heads in various ways. One said it was "rough," another that it was
"ungainly," and others that it was "unmannerly."
"As for manners," said the first speaker, "the bower birds of this day
can't be said to have any!" and all her companions chorused, "No,
indeed!"
"In my young day," continued the elderly hen, and all the group were
sighing, "Ah! in our young days!" when a young hen perched on a bough
above them, and interrupted pertly, "Dear me, can't you good birds find
anything more interesting to talk about than ancient history?" At this
the group of gossips whispered angrily to one another, "Minx!" "Hussy!"
"Wild cat!" etc., and the rude young bird flew back to her companions.
"What I object to most in young birds," said another elderly hen, "is
their appearance. Some of them do nothing all day but preen their
feathers. Look at the over-studied arrangements of their wing flights,
and the affected exactness of their tall feathers! One looks in vain
for sweetness and simplicity in the present-day young bower birds."
"Even that is better than the newer fashion of scarcely preening the
feathers at all," observed another of the group. "Many of the young
birds take no pride in their feathers whatever, but devote all their
time to studying the habits of out-of-the-way insects." A chorus of
disapproval from all present supported this remark. "Studies that
interfere with a young hen's appearance should not be permitted," said
one bird.
"What is the good of knowing all about insects, when we live on berries
and fruit!" exclaimed another.
"The sight of insects gives one the creeps!" said a third.
"I am thankful to say all my little hens care for nothing beyond
playing at the Bower and preening their feathers," said an affectionate
bower bird mother. "They get a deal of attention paid to them."
No young Satin Bird would look at a learned little bower-hen, said the
bird who had first objected to untidy and studious young hens. "For my
part, I never allow a chick of mine even to mention insects, unless
they are well known beetles!"
Dot thought this chattering very stupid, so she went round a bush to
where the old fathers of the bower birds were perched. They were grave
old fellows, arrayed in their satin blue-black plumage, and she found
them all, more or less, in a grumbling humour.
"Birds at our time of life should not have to attend parties," said
several, and Dot wondered why they came. "How are you, old neighbour?"
said one to another. "Terribly bored!" was the reply. "How long must
we stay, do you think?" asked another. "Oh! until these young fools
have finished amusing themselves," answered its friend. The only satin
birds who seemed to Dot to be interested in one another, were some
engaged in discussing the scarcity of berries and the wrongs done to
bower birds by White Humans destroying the wild fig and lillipilli
trees. This grievance, and the question as to what berries or figs
agreed best with each old bower bird's digestion, were the only topics
discussed with any animation.
Dot soon tired of listening to the birds, and returned to the Kangaroo,
who asked her if she cared to stay longer. The little girl said she
had seen and heard enough, and, judging by this one, she didn't care
for parties.
"Neither do I," whispered the Kangaroo; "they make me feel tired; and,
somehow, they seem to remind one of everything one knows that's sad, in
spite of all the gaiety."
"Is it gay?" enquired Dot, hesitating a little in her speech, for she
had felt rather dull and miserable.
"Well, everyone says it's gay, and there is always a deal of noise, so
I suppose it is," answered the Kankaroo.
"I'd rather be in your pouch, so let us go away," entreated Dot; and
they left the bower place without any of the birds noticing their
departure, for they were all busy gossiping, or discussing the great
berry or digestion questions.
It was towards evening when they reached an open plain, and here they
met an Emu. As both Dot and the Kangaroo were thirsty, they asked the
Emu the way to a waterhole or tank.
"I am going to a tank now," replied the Emu; "let us proceed together."
"Do you think it will be safe to drink to-night;" enquired the Kangaroo
anxiously.
"Well, to tell the truth," said the Emu lightly, "it is likely to be a
little difficult. There is a somewhat strained feeling between the
White Humans and ourselves just now. In consequence, we have to resort
to a little strategy on our visits to the tanks, and we avoid eating
anything tempting left about at camping places."
"Are they laying poison for you?" asked the Kangaroo in horrified tones.
"They are doing something of the kind, we think," answered the Emu
airily, "for some of us have had most unpleasant symptoms after picking
up morsels at camping grounds. Several have died. We were quite
surprised, for hitherto there has been no better cure for Emu
indigestion than wire nails, hoop iron, and preserved milk cans. The
worst symptoms have yielded to scraps of barbed wire in my own case.
But these Emus died in spite of all remedies."
"But I heard," said the Kangaroo, "that Emus were protected by the
Government. I never understood why."
"We are protected," said the huge bird, "because we form part of the
Australian Arms."
"So do we," said the Kangaroo, "and we are not protected."
"True," said the bird, "but the Humans can make some money out of you
when you are dead, whereas we serve no purpose at all, excepting alive,
when we add a charm to the scenery; and, moreover, each of our eggs
will make a pound cake. But the time will come, friend, when there
will be neither Emu nor Kangaroo for Australia's Arms; no creature will
be left to represent the land but the Bunny Rabbit and the Sheep."
"I hate sheep!" said the Kangaroo, "they eat all our grass."
"You have not studied them as we have," answered the Emu. "They are
most entertaining. We have great fun with them, and we've learnt some
capital sheep games from those dogs Humans drive them with. It's
really exciting to drive a big mob, when they want to break and
scatter. We were chasing them, here and there, all over the plain
to-day."
"I don't like sheep!" said Dot, "they are so stupid."
"So they are," agreed the Emu, "and that is what puzzles me. What is
it about the sight of sheep that excites one so? When one gets into a
big flock, one has to dance, one can't help oneself. We had a great
dance in a flock to-day, and the lambs would get under our feet, so I'm
sorry to say a good many of them were killed."
"Men will certainly kill you, if you do that," said Dot.
"We know it," chuckled the Emu; "that is why the tank is not quite safe
just now. But this evening I will show you a new plan by which to
learn if Humans are camped at a tank, or not. We have played the trick
with great success for several nights."
Conversing thus, the Emu, the Kangaroo, and Dot wandered on until the
Emu requested them to wait for a few minutes, whilst it peeped at the
tank, which was still a long way off.
It presently returned and said that it felt quite suspicious, because
everything looked so clear and safe. "From his point of high ground,"
said the bird, "you can watch our proceedings. I will now give the
signal and return to my post here."
The Emu then ran at a great pace along the edge of the plain, and
emitted a strange rattling cry. After disappearing from sight for a
time, it returned hurriedly to where Dot and her friend were waiting.
"Now, see!" said the Emu, nodding at the distant side of the plain.
Dot's eyes were not so keen of sight as those of an Emu; but she
thought she could see something like a little cloud of dust, far, far
away across the dry brown grass of the plain. Soon she was quite sure
that the little cloud was advancing towards her side of the plain, and
in the direction of the tank. As it came nearer she could see the
bobbing heads of Emus, popping up above the dust, and she could see
some of the birds running round the little cloud.
"What is the cause of all that dust?" she asked the Emu.
"Sheep!" it answered with a merry chuckle.
"But what are the Emus doing with the sheep?" asked Dot and the
Kangaroo, now fully interested in the Emu's manoeuvre.
"They are driving them to water at the tank," said the bird, highly
delighted with the scheme. "The sheep will soon know that they are
near water, and will go to it without driving. Then we shall watch,
and if they quietly drink and scatter, it will be safe for us, but if
they see anything unusual and break, and run--well, we shan't drink at
the tank to-night. There will be Humans and dogs there, and we don't
cultivate their society just now."
"Really that is the cleverest thing I have heard for a long time," said
the Kangaroo, full of admiration for the trick. "How did you jump to
that conclusion?"
"The idea sprang upon us," answered the Emu, with an immense hop in the
air, and a dancing movement when it came to the ground again. "Dear
me!" it exclaimed, "the sight of those sheep is beginning to excite me,
and I can hardly keep still! I wonder what there is so exciting about
sheep!"
Dot could now see the advancing flock of sheep, with their attendant
mob of Emu, quite well. The animals had got scent of the water, and
with contented bleatings were slowly moving with a rippling effect
across the dusty plain. The mob of Emu soon left the sheep to go their
own way, and, grouped in a cluster, watched, with bobbing heads, every
movement of the flock.
Dot, the Kangaroo, and the Emu looked towards the tank with silent
interest. "I'm stationed here," whispered the bird, "to give a warning
in case there is any danger in this direction. Emu are posted all
round the tank on the same duty."
Dot could see the whole scene well, for beyond a few low shrubs on the
opposite side of the sheet of water, there was no sheltering bush near
the great tank which had been excavated on the bare plain.
Onward came the sheep, and quite stationary in the distance remained
the Emu mob. Just as the first sheep were descending the deep slope of
the tank, a Plover rose from amongst the bushes with a shrill cry. The
Emu started at the sound, and whispered to the Kangaroo, "There'll be
no drink to-night. Watch!"
The cry of the Plover seemed to arrest the advance of the timid sheep.
They waited in a closely-packed flock, looking around. But presently
the old leader gave a deep bleat, and they moved forward towards the
water. "Shriek! Shriek!" cried the Plover from the bushes, screaming as
they rose and flew away; and suddenly the flock of sheep broke and
hurried back to the open plain. At the same instant Dot could hear the
sharp barking of a sheep-dog, a noise that produced an instant effect
on the creatures she was with. With lightning speed the Kangaroo had
popped her into her pouch and was hopping away, and the Emu was
striding with its long legs as fast as it could for the cover of the
Bush.
Just as they entered the Bush shelter, Dot peeped out of the pouch,
across the plain, and could see the mob of Emu in a cloud of dust,
running, and almost out of sight.
When they had reached a place of safety, the friendly Emu bid the
Kangaroo and Dot good night. "We shall have to be thirsty to-night,"
it said, "but there will be a heavy dew, and the grass will be wet
enough to cool one's mouth. That pretty trick of ours was such a
success that it is almost worth one's while to lose one's drink in
proving it." Turning to Dot it said, "You will be able to tell the big
Humans that we Emus are not such fools as they think, and that we find
their flocks of silly sheep most useful and entertaining animals."
Chuckling to itself, the Emu strode off, leaving Dot and the Kangaroo
to pass another night in the solitudes of the Bush.
CHAPTER XI.
The next day they travelled a long distance. At about noon they came
to a part of the country which the Kangaroo said she well knew. "But
we must be careful," she added, "as we are very near Humans in this
part."
As Dot was tired (for she had had to walk much more than usual) the
Kangaroo suggested that she should rest at the pretty spot they had
reached, whilst she herself went in search of Willy Wagtail. Dot had
to promise the Kangaroo over and over again, not to leave the spot
during her absence. She was afraid lest the little girl should get
lost, like the little Joey.
After many farewells, and much hopping back to give Dot warnings, and
make promises of returning soon, the Kangaroo went in search of Willy
Wagtail; and the little girl was left all alone.
Dot looked for a nice shady nook, in which to lie down and rest; and
she found the place so cheerful and pretty, that she was not afraid of
being alone. She was in the hollow of an old watercourse. It was
rather like an English forest glade, it was so open and grassy; and
here and there were pretty shrubs, and little hillocks and hollows. At
first Dot thought that she would sit on the branch of a huge tree that
had but recently fallen, and lay forlornly clothed in withered leaves;
but opposite to this dead giant of the Bush was a thick shrub with a
decayed tree stump beside it, that made a nice sheltered corner which
she liked better. So Dot laid herself down there, and in a few minutes
she was fast asleep; though, as she dropped off into the land of
dreams, she thought how wonderfully quiet that little glade was, and
felt somewhat surprised to find no Bush creatures to keep her company.
Some time before Dot woke, her dreams became confused and strange.
There seemed to be great crowds of them, and the murmur of many voices
talking together. As she gradually awakened, she realised that the
voices were real, and not a part of her dreams. There was a great
hubbub, a fluttering of wings, and rustling of leaves and grass.
Through all this confusion, odd sentences became clear to her drowsy
senses. Such phrases as, "You'd better perch here?" "This isn't your
place!" "Go over there!" "No! no! I'm sure I'm right! the Welcome
Swallow says so." "Has anyone gone for the opossum?" "He says the Court
ought to be held at night!" "Don't make such a noise or you will wake
the prisoner!" "Who is to be the judge?" This last enquiry provoked
such a noise of diverse opinions, that Dot became fully awake, and
sitting up, gazed around with eyes full of astonishment.
When she had fallen asleep there had not been a creature near her; but
now she was literally hemmed in on every side by birds and small
animals. The branches of the fallen tree were covered with a feathered
company, and in the open space between it and Dot's nook, was a
constantly increasing crowd of larger birds, such as cranes, plover,
duck, turkey-buzzards, black swan, and amongst them a great grave
Pelican. The animals were few, and apparently came late. There was a
little timid Wallaby, a Bandicoot, some Kangaroo Rats, a shy Wombat who
grumbled about the daylight, as also did a Native Bear and an Opossum,
who were really driven to the gathering by a bevy of screaming parrots.
Dot was wide awake at once with delight. Nearly every creature she had
ever heard of seemed to be present, and the brilliant colours of the
parrots and parrakeets made the scene as gay as a rainbow in a summer
noonday sky.
"Oh! you darlings!" she said, "how good of you all to come and see me!"
This greeting from Dot caused an instant silence amongst the creatures,
and she could not help seeing that they looked very uncomfortable.
There was soon a faint whispering from bird to bird, which rose higher
and higher, until Dot made out that they were all saying, "She ought to
be told!" "You tell her!" "No, you tell her yourself, it's not my
business!" and every bird--for it was the birds who by reason of their
larger numbers took the lead in the proceedings--seemed to be trying to
shift an unpleasant task upon its neighbours.
Presently the solemn Pelican waddled forward and stood before Dot,
saying to the assemblage, "I will explain our presence." Addressing
the little girl it said, "We are here to place you on trial for the
wrongs we Bush creatures have suffered from the cruelties of White
Humans. You will meet with all fairness in your trial, as the
proceedings will be conducted according to the custom of your own
Courts of justice. The Welcome Swallow, having built its nest for
three successive seasons under the eaves of the Gabblegabble Court
House, is deeply learned in human law business, and will instruct us
how to proceed. Your conviction will, therefore, leave you no room for
complaint so far as your trial is concerned."
All the birds clapped their wings in applause at the conclusion of this
speech, and the Pelican was told by the Welcome Swallow that he should
plead as Prosecutor.
"What do you mean by 'Plead as Prosecutor?'" asked the Pelican gravely.
"You've got to get the prisoner convicted as guilty, whether she is so
or not," answered the Swallow, making a dart at a mosquito, which it
ate with relish.
"Oh!" said the Pelican, doubtfully; and all the creatures looked at one
another as if they didn't quite understand the justice of the
arrangement.
"But," said the Pelican, hesitating a little, "suppose I don't think
the prisoner guilty? She seems very small, and harmless."
"That doesn't matter at all, you've got to get her made out as guilty
by the jury. It's good human law," snapped the Swallow, and all the
creatures said "OH!" "Now for the defence," said the Swallow briskly;
"there ought to be someone for that. Who is friendly with the Queen?"
"Who's the Queen?" asked all the creatures breathlessly.
"She's a bigger Human than the rest, and everybody's business is her
business, so she's always going to law."
"I know," said the Magpie, and she piped out six bars of "God save the
Queen."
"You are the one for the defence!" said the Swallow, quite delighted,
as were all the other creatures, at the Magpie's accomplishment; "you
must save the prisoner from the jury finding her guilty."
"But," objected the Magpie, "how can I, when only last fruit season my
brother, and two sisters, and six cousins were shot just because they
ate a few grapes?"
"That doesn't matter! you've got to get her off, I tell you!" said the
Swallow, irritably. "Go over there, and ask her what you are to say."
So the Magpie flew over to Dot's side, and she at once began to teach
it the rest of "God save the Queen."
"I like this game," Dot presently said to the Magpie.
"Do you?" said the Magpie with surprise. "It seems to me very slow,
and there's no sense in it."
"Why are the birds all perching together over there?" asked Dot,
pointing to a branch of the dead tree, "since they all hate one another
and want to get away. The Galahs have pecked the Butcher Bird twice in
five minutes, the Pee-weet keeps quarrelling with the Soldier Bird, and
none of them can bear the English Sparrow."
"The Swallow says that's the jury," answered the Magpie. "Their
business is to do just what they like with you when all the talking is
done, and whether they find you guilty or not, will depend on if they
are tired, or hungry, and feel cross; or if the trial lasts only a
short time, and they are pleased with the grubs that will be brought
them presently."
"How funny," said Dot, not a bit alarmed at all these preparations for
her trial, for she loved all the creatures so much, that she could not
think that any of them wished to hurt her.
"If this is human law," said the Magpie, "it isn't funny at all; it is
mad, or wicked. Fancy my having to defend a Human!"
At this point of their conversation, the ill-feeling amongst the jury
broke out into open fighting, because the English Sparrow was a
foreigner, and they said that it would certainly sympathise with the
Humans who had brought it to Australia. This was just an excuse to get
rid of it. The Sparrow said that it wanted to go out of the jury, and
had never wished to belong to it, and flew away joyfully. Then all
the rest of the jury grumbled at the good luck of the Sparrow in
getting out of the trial--for they could see it picking up grass seed
and enjoying itself greatly, whilst they were all crowded together on
one branch, and were feeling hungry before the trial had even begun.
There was great suspense and quiet while the Judge was being chosen.
Although Dot had eaten the berries of understanding, it was generally
considered that, to be quite fair, the judge must be able to understand
human talk; and, amidst much clapping of wings, a large white Cockatoo
was appointed.
The Cockatoo lost no time in clambering "into position" on the stump
near Dot. "You're quite sure you understand human talk?" said the
little Wallaby to the Cockatoo. It was the first remark he had made,
for he had been quite bewildered by all the noise and fuss.
"My word! yes," replied the Cockatoo, who had been taught in a public
refreshment room. Then, thinking that he would give a display of his
learning, he elevated his sulphur crest and gabbled off, "Go to
Jericho! Twenty to one on the favourite! I'm your man! Now then,
ma'am; hurry up, don't keep the coach awaiting! Give 'um their 'eds,
Bill! So long! Ta-ra-ra, boom-di-ay! God save the Queen!"
All the creatures present looked gravely at Dot, to see what effect
this harangue in her own language would have upon her, and were
somewhat surprised to see her holding her little sides, and rolling
about with laughter.
The Cockatoo was quite annoyed at Dot's amusement. He fluffed out all
his feathers, and let off a scream that could have been heard a quarter
of a mile away. This seemed to impress every one with his importance,
and the whole Court became attentive to the proceedings.
At this moment the Swallow skimmed overhead, and having caught the
words "God save the Queen," called out, "That's the way to do it! keep
that up" and the Cockatoo, thinking that the Swallow meant him to
scream still more, set up another yell, which he continued until
everyone felt deafened by the noise.
"We have chosen quite the right Judge," said an elegant blue crane to a
wild duck; "he will make himself heard and respected." Whereat the
Cockatoo winked at the Crane, and said, "You bet I will!"
The Pelican now advanced to the space before the stump, and there was a
murmur of excitement, because it was about to open the trial by a
recital of wrongs done to the Bush creatures by white humanity.
Dot could not realise that she was being tried seriously, and was
delighted that the Pelican had come nearer to her stump, so that she
had a better view of him. She thought him such an old, old looking
bird, with his big bald head, and gigantic beak. She could not help
thinking that his beak must be too heavy for him, and asked if he would
like to rest it on the stump. The Pelican did not understand Dot's
kindness, and gave her a look of offended dignity that was quite
withering; so Dot did not speak to him again; but she longed to feel if
the bag of skin that drooped under his beak had anything in it. The
Pelican's legs seemed to Dot to be too frail and short to bear such a
big bird, not to mention the immense beak; and, when the creature stood
on one leg only, she laughed; whereat the Pelican gave her another
offended look, which effectually prevented their becoming friends.
The Pelican was beginning to open his beak to speak (and, being such a
large beak, opening it took some time), when the Welcome Swallow fussed
into court, and said that "nothing could be done until they had some
horsehair!"
This interruption, and the Swallow's repeated assurance that no human
trial of importance could take place without horsehair, set all the
creatures chattering with astonishment and questions. Some said the
Swallow was joking; others said that it was making senseless delays,
and that night would fall before they could bring the prisoner to
justice. There was much grumbling on all sides, and complaints of
hunger, and the jury began to clamour for the grubs that they had been
promised, at which the Magpie whispered to Dot that she certainly would
be found guilty. The fact was now quite clear to the jury before the
trial began.
But the Swallow persisted that they must have horsehair.
"What for?" asked everyone, sulkily.
"Don't you see for yourselves," squeaked the Swallow, excitedly; "the
judge looks like a Cockatoo."
"Well, of course he does," said all the creatures. "He is a Cockatoo,
so he looks like one!"
"Yes," cried the Swallow, "but you must stick horsehairs on his head.
Human justice must be done with horsehair. The prisoner won't believe
the Cockatoo is a judge without. Good Gracious!" exclaimed the
Swallow, "just look! The prisoner is scratching the judge's poll! We
really must have horsehair!"
Dot, seeing the Swallow's indignation, drew away from the stump, and
the Cockatoo tried to look as if he had never seen her before, and as
if the idea of having his poll scratched by the prisoner was one that
could never have entered his head.
"But, if we do put horsehair on the Cockatoo's head," argued the
creatures, "what will it do?"
"It will impress the prisoner," said the Swallow.
"How?" they all asked curiously.
"Because the Cockatoo won't look like a Cockatoo," replied the Swallow,
with exasperation.
"Then what will he look like?" asked every creature in breathless
excitement.
"He won't look like any creature that ever lived," retorted the Swallow.
Perfect silence followed this explanation, for every bird and animal
was trying to understand human sense and reason. Then the smallest
Kangaroo Rat broke the stillness.
"If," said the Kangaroo Rat, "only a little horsehair can do that,
surely the prisoner can imagine the judge isn't a cockatoo, without our
having to wait for the horsehair. Let's get on with the trial."
This idea was received with applause, and the Swallow flew off in a
huff; whilst the Kookooburra, on a tree near the Court, softly laughed
to himself.
Once more the Pelican took up his position to open the trial. The
Cockatoo puffed himself out as big as he could, fluffed out his cheek
feathers, and half closed his eyes. His solemnly attentive attitude
won the admiration of all the court, and the absence of horsehair was
not felt by anyone. The Welcome Swallow, having got over its ill
temper, returned to help the proceedings; and the jury all put their
heads under their wings, and went to sleep.
"Fire away!" screamed the Cockatoo, and the trial began.
"My duty is a most painful one," said the Pelican; "for" ("whereas,"
said the Swallow) "the prisoner known" ("named and described," added
the Swallow), "as Dot is now before you," ("to be tried, heard,
determined and adjudged," gabbled the Swallow) "on a charge of cruelty"
("and feloniously killing and slaying," prompted the Swallow) "to birds
and animals," ("the term not applying to horse, mare, gelding, bull,
ox, dog, cat, heifer, steer, calf, mule, ass, sheep, lamb, hog, pig,
sow, goat, or other domestic animal," interposed in one breath the
Swallow, quoting the Cruelty to Animals Act) "she is" ("hereby," put in
the Swallow) "brought to trial on" ("divers," whispered the Swallow)
"charges" ("hereinafter," said the Swallow) "to be named and described
by the" ("aforesaid," interjected the Swallow) "birds and animals,"
("hereinbefore mentioned," stated the Swallow) "the said animals being
denizens of the Bush" ("and in no wise relating to horse, mare,
gelding, bull, ox--" began the Swallow again, when the Cockatoo raised
his crest, and screamed out "STOP THAT, I TELL YOU!" and the Pelican
continued stating the charge.) "Bush law" ("enacts," said the Swallow)
"that" ("whereas," prompted the Swallow) "all individual rights"
("whatsoever," put in the Swallow) "shall be according to the statute
Victoria--"
"Victoria! Twenty to one against the field," shouted the judge.
"Between you two," said the Pelican, looking angrily at the Swallow and
the Cockatoo, "I've forgotten everything I was going to say! I shan't
go on!"
"Never mind," said the Swallow cheerfully, "You've said quite enough,
and no one has understood a word of the charge, so it's all right. Now
then for the witnesses."
As the Swallow spoke, there was a great disturbance amongst the
creatures. The swan, ducks, cranes, and water fowl, besides
honeysuckers, and many other birds, were all fanning the air with their
wings, and crying, "Turn him out!" "Disgusting!" "I never heard of such
a thing in my life! the smell of it always gives me a headache!" and
there was such a noise that the jury all woke up, and Dot covered her
ears with her hands. The Cockatoo, seeing Dot's distress at the
screams and hubbub, and thinking that she wanted to say something, but
could not make herself heard in the general riot, decided to speak for
her; so he screamed louder than all the rest, and shouted, "Apples,
oranges, pears, lemonade, cigarettes, AND cigars! I say! what's the
row?"
When quiet was restored, it was explained that the Opossum had brought
into Court a pouch full of gum leaves, which it was eating. It had
also given some to the Native Bear, and Wallaby, and in consequence the
whole air was laden with the odour of eucalyptus.
"Oh, dear!" said Dot, "it smells just like when I have a cold!"
"Eating eucalyptus leaves in Court is contempt of Court," cried the
Swallow and everyone echoed, "Contempt of Court! Contempt of Court!
Turn them out!"
"But they are witnesses," objected the Pelican.
"That doesn't matter!" shouted the Waterfowl, "It's a disgusting smell!
Turn them out!"
"Hurrah!" shouted the Wallaby, as it leaped off. "What luck!" laughed
the Opossum, as it cleared into the nearest tree. "I am glad," sighed
the Koala, as it slowly moved away; "that trial made my head feel
empty."
"Well, there go three of the most important witnesses," grumbled the
Pelican.
"My eye, what a spree!" said the judge.
A Galah amongst the jury, wishing to be thought intelligent, enquired
what charge the Wallaby, Native Bear, and Opossum were to bear witness
to.
"It is a matter of skins, included in the fur rugs clause, and the
wickedness known as 'Sport'," answered the Pelican.
Whilst the Pelican was making this explanation, the judge, who had been
longing to have his poll scratched again, sidled up to Dot, and
whispered softly, "Scratch Cockie's poll!" But, just as he was
enjoying the delicious sensation Dot's fingers produced amongst his
neck feathers, as he held his head down, the Pelican caught sight of
the proceeding. The Pelican said nothing, but stared at the judge with
an eye of such astonishment and stern contempt, that the Cockatoo
Instantly remembered that he was a judge, and, getting into a proper
attitude, said hastily, "Advance Australia! Who's the next witness?"
And again the Kookooburra laughed to himself on the tree.
"Fur first!" exclaimed a white Ibis. "Call the Platypus!"
"The Platypus won't come!" cried the Kangaroo Rat.
"Well, I never!" exclaimed the judge.
"It says that if a Court is held at all, it should be conducted by the
representative of Antediluvian custom, the most ancient and learned
creatures, such as the Iguana, the Snake, and Ornithorhyncus Paradoxus.
That it would prefer to associate with the meanest Troglodite, rather
than appear amongst the present company. I understood it to say,"
continued the Kangaroo Rat, "that real law could only be understood by
those deeply learned in fossils."
"'Pon my word!" ejaculated the judge. "Shiver my timbers. What
blooming impudence!"
"Oh you naughty bird to use such words!" exclaimed Dot. But all the
Court murmured "How clever!" and the Cockatoo was pleased.
"Native Cat, next!" shouted the white Ibis. But at the first mention
of the Native Cat nearly every bird, and all the small game, prepared
to get away.
"Why don't you call the Dingo at once?" laughed the Kookooburra, who
was really keeping guard over Dot, although she did not know it.
"Humans kill Dingoes."
"The Dingo! The Dingo!" every creature repeated in horror and
consternation; and they all looked about in fear, while the Kookooburra
chuckled to himself at all the stir his words had made.
"It's quite true that animals and birds kill one another," said the
Magpie, who thought he ought to say something in Dot's defence, as that
was his part in the trial, "therefore it is the same nature that makes
Humans kill us. If it is the nature of Humans to kill, the same as it
is the nature of birds and animals to kill, where is the sense and
justice of trying the prisoner for what she can't help doing?"
"Good!" said the Welcome Swallow, "argued like a lawyer."
At this unexpected turn of the trial the Judge softly whistled to
himself, "Pop goes the weasel."
"Don't talk to us about nature and justice and sense," replied the
Pelican, contemptuously. "This is a Court of law, we have nothing to
do with any of them!"
The Court all cheered at this reply, and the Magpie subsided in the
sulks.
"Call the Kangaroo!" cried the white Ibis.
"It's no good," jeered the Kookooburra.
"Kangaroo and Dot are great friends. She won't come if you called----"
"Till all's blue!" interrupted the judge and he went on with "Pop goes
the Weasel." This news caused a buzz of excitement. Everyone was
astounded that the Kangaroo, who had the heaviest grievances of all,
wouldn't appear against the prisoner.
"Is it possible," said the Pelican, addressing the Kookooburra in slow
stern accents, "Is it possible that the Kangaroo has forgiven all her
grievances?"
"All," said the Kookooburra.
"The hunting?" asked the Pelican.
"Yes," answered the Kookooburra.
"The rugs?"
"Yes."
"The boots?"
"Yes."
"And," said the Pelican, still more solemnly and slowly, while all the
Court listened in breathless attention, "and has she forgiven
KANGAROO-TAIL SOUP?"
"Yes! she's forgiven that too," answered the Kookooburra cheerfully.
"Then," said the Pelican, hotly, "I throw up the case," and he spread
his huge black wings, and flapped his way up into the sky and away.
"What a go!" said the judge; and he might have said more, only Dot
could not hear anything on account of the racket and confusion. The
trial had failed, and every creature was making all the noise it could,
and preparing to hurry away. In the middle of the turmoil, Dot's
Kangaroo bounded into the open space, panting with excitement and
delight.
"Dot! Dot!" she cried, "I've found Willy Wagtail, and he knows your
way! Come along at once!" And, putting Dot in her pouch, the Kangaroo
leaped clean over the judge and carried her off!
CHAPTER XII.
Although the Kangaroo was longing to hear the reason why so many Bush
creatures had collected round Dot whilst she was away, she was too
anxious to carry her to Willy Wagtail before nightfall to wait and
enquire what had happened. Dot, too, was so excited at hearing that
her way home had been found, that she could only think of the delight
of seeing her father and mother again. So the Kangaroo had hopped
until she was tired and needed rest, before they spoke. Then Dot
described the Trial, and made the Kangaroo laugh about the Cockatoo
judge, but she did not say how it had all ended because the Kangaroo
had forgiven Dot for Humans making rugs of her fur, boots of her skin,
and soup of her tail. She was afraid of hurting her feelings by
mentioning such delicate subjects. The Kangaroo never noticed that
anything was left out, because she was bursting to relate her interview
with Willy Wagtail.
She told Dot eagerly how she had found Willy Wagtail near his old
haunt; how that gossiping little bird had told all the news of the
Gabblegabble town and district in ten minutes, and how he had said he
believed he knew Dot by sight, and that if such were the case he would
show Dot and the Kangaroo the way to the little girl's home. Then Dot
and the Kangaroo hurried on their way again, the little girl sometimes
running and walking to rest the kind animal, and sometimes being
carried in that soft cosy pouch that had been her cradle and carriage
for all those days.
It was quite dusk by the time they arrived at a split-rail fence, and
heard a little bird singing, "Sweet pretty creature! Sweet pretty
creature!"
"That is Willy Wagtail making love," said the Kangaroo, with a humorous
twinkle in her quiet eyes. "Peep round the bush," she said to Dot,
"and you'll see them spooning."
Dot glanced through the branches, and saw two wagtails, who looked very
smart with their black coats and white waistcoats, sitting on two posts
of a fence a little way off. They were each pretending that their long
big tails were too heavy to balance them properly, and they seemed to
be always just saving themselves from toppling off their perch.
Occasionally Willy would dart into the air, to show what an expert
flyer he was; he would shoot straight upwards, turn a double somersault
backwards, and wing off in the direction one least expected.
Afterwards he would return to his post as calm and cool as if he had
done nothing surprising and say "Pretty pretty Chip-pi-ti-chip!" that
name meaning the other wagtail. Then Chip-pi-ti-chip showed off HER
flying, and they both said to one another "Sweet pretty creature!"
At the sound of Dot and the Kangaroo's approach Chip-pi-ti-chip hid
herself in a tree, and Willy Wagtail, not knowing who was disturbing
them, scolded angrily; but when he saw the Kangaroo and the little
girl, he gave them the most cordial greeting, and wobbled about on a
rail as if he must tumble off every second.
"This is Dot," said the Kangaroo a little anxiously, and rather
breathless with the speed she had made.
"Just as I had expected!" exclaimed Willy Wagtail, with a jerk of the
tail which nearly sent him headlong off the rail. "I should know you
anywhere, little Human, though you do look a bit different. You want
preening," he added.
This last remark was in allusion to Dot's appearance, which certainly
was most untidy and dirty, for, beyond an occasional lick from the
Kangaroo, she had been five days without being tidied and cleaned.
"I couldn't do it better," said the Kangaroo apologetically.
"It doesn't matter at all," said Dot, putting her tangled curls back
from her eyes.
"Well! I know where you live," gabbled off the Wagtail. "It's the
second big paddock from here, if you follow the belt of the she-oak
trees over there. It's a house just like those things in Gabblebabble
township. There's a yellow sheep dog, who's very good tempered, and a
black one that made a snap at my tail the other day. There is an old
grey cart horse, an honest fellow, but rather dull; and a bay mare who
is much better company. There is a little red cow who is a great
friend of mine, and she had a calf a few days before you were lost.
Dear me!" exclaimed the gossiping bird, "what a fuss there has been
these five days over trying to find you! I've been over there every
day to see the sight. Such a lot of Humans! And such horses. I
enjoyed myself immensely, and made a lot of friends amongst the horses,
but I didn't care so much for the dogs; I thought them a nasty
quarrelsome lot.
"I went a couple of days with the whole turn out to see the search.
Goodness, the distances they went, and the noise and the big fires they
made. It WAS exciting fun! They brought over some black
Humans--'Trackers' is what they are called, at least the Mounted
Troopers' horses told me so (my word the Troopers' horses are jolly
fellows!) Well, these black trackers went in front of each party just
like dogs, with their heads to the ground, and they turned over every
leaf and twig, and said if a Human, a horse or a Kangaroo had broken it
or been that way, they would have found your track fast enough, but one
evening it came to an end quite suddenly, and weren't they all
surprised! I heard from a Trooper's horse--(such a nice horse he
was!)--that the trackers and white Humans said it was just as if you
had disappeared into the sky! There was just a bit of your fur on a
bush, and nothing anywhere else but a Kangaroo's trail. No one could
make it out."
"That was when I took you in my pouch!" exclaimed the Kangaroo.
"Now," said the Wagtail, "most of them have given up the search. Just
this evening Dot's father and a few other Humans came back, and the
yellow sheep dog told me the last big party is to start at noon
to-morrow, and after that there will be no more attempt to find Dot.
Only the sheep dog said he heard his master say he would go on hunting
alone, until he found her body. I haven't been over there to-day,"
wound up the bird, "they are all so miserable and tired, it gave me the
blues yesterday."
"What are we to do? It is quite dark and late!" asked the Kangaroo.
"You had better stay here," counselled the Wagtail. "One night more or
less doesn't matter, and I don't like leaving Chip-pi-ti-chip at
night-time. She likes me to sing to her all night, because she is
nervous. I will go with you to-morrow morning early, if you will wait
here until then."
"Having found your lost way so far!" said the Kangaroo to Dot, "it
would be a pity to risk losing it again, so we had better wait for
Willy Wagtail to guide us to-morrow."
To tell the truth, the Kangaroo was very glad of the excuse to keep Dot
one night more before parting from her. "It will seem like losing my
little Joey again, when I am once more alone," she said sadly.
"But you will never go far away," said Dot. "I should cry, if I
thought you would never come to see me. You will live on our
selection, won't you?"
But the Kangaroo looked very doubtful, and said that she loved Dot, but
she was afraid of Humans and their dogs.
After a supper of berries and grass, Dot and the Kangaroo lay down for
the night in a little bower of bushes. But they talked until very
late, of how they were to manage to reach Dot's home without danger
from guns and dogs. At last when they tried to sleep, they could not
do so on account of Willy Wagtail's singing to his sweetheart, "Sweet
pretty creature! Sweet pretty creature!" without stopping for more than
five minutes at a time.
"I wonder Chip-pi-ti-chip doesn't get tired of that song," said Dot.
"She never does," yawned the Kangaroo, "and he never tires of singing
it."
"Sweet pretty creature," sang Willy Wagtail.
CHAPTER XIII.
Two men were walking near a cottage in the winter sun-light of the
early morning. There came to the door a young woman, who looked pale
and tired. She carried a bowl of milk to a little calf, and on her way
back to the cottage she paused, and shading her eyes, that were red
with weeping, lingered awhile, looking far and near. Then, with a
sigh, she returned indoors and worked restlessly at her household
duties.
"It breaks my heart to see my wife do that," said the taller man, who
carried a gun. "All day long she comes out and looks for the child.
One knows, now, that the poor little one can never come back to us,"
and as the big man spoke there was a queer choking in his voice.
The younger man did not speak, but he patted his friend's shoulder in a
kindly manner, which showed that he too was very sorry.
"Even you have lost heart, Jack," said the big bushman, "but we will
find her yet; the wife shall have that comfort."
"You'll never do it now," said the young fellow with a mournful shake
of the head. "There is not an inch of ground that so young a child
could reach that we have not searched. The mystery is, what could have
become of her?"
"That's what beats me," said the tall man, who was Dot's father. "I
think of it all day and all night. There is the track of the dear
little mite as clear as possible for five miles, as far as the dry
creek. The trackers say she rested her poor weary legs by sitting
under the blackbutt tree. At that point she vanishes completely. The
blacks say there isn't a trace of man, or beast, beyond that place
excepting the trail of a big Kangaroo. As you say, it's a mystery!"
As the men walked towards the bush, close to the place where Dot had
run after the hare the day she was lost, neither of them noticed the
fuss and scolding made by a Willy Wagtail; although the little bird
seemed likely to die of excitement.
Willy Wagtail was really saying, "Dot and her Kangaroo are coming this
way. Whatever you do, don't shoot them with that gun."
Presently the young man, Jack, noticed the little bird. "What friendly
little chaps those wagtails are," he said, "and see how tame and
fearless this one is. Upon my word, he nearly flew in your face that
time!"
Dot's father did not notice the remark, for he had stopped suddenly,
and was peering into the bush whilst he quietly shifted his gun into
position, ready to raise it and fire.
"By Jove!" he said, "I saw the head of a Kangaroo a moment ago behind
that iron-bark. Fancy it's coming so near the house. Next time it
shows, I'll get a shot at it."
Both men waited for the moment when the Kangaroo should be seen again.
The next instant the Kangaroo bounded out of the Bush into the open
paddock. Swift as lightning up went the cruel gun, but, as it exploded
with a terrible report, the man, Jack, struck it upwards, and the fatal
bullet lodged in the branch of a tall gum tree.
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Jack, pointing at the Kangaroo.
"Dot!" cried her father, dropping his gun, and stumbling blindly
forward with outstretched arms, towards his little girl, who had just
tumbled out of the Kangaroo's pouch in her hurry to reach her father.
"Hoo! hoo! ho! ho! he! he! ha! ha! ha! ha!" laughed a Kookooburra on a
tree, as he saw Dot clasped in her father's great strong arms, and the
little face hidden in his big brown beard.
"Wife! wife!" shouted Dot's father, "Dot's come back! Dot's come back!"
"Dot's here!" yelled the young man, as he ran like mad to the house.
And all the time the good Kangaroo sat up on her haunches, still
panting with fear from the sound of the gun, and a little afraid to
stay, yet so interested in all the excitement and delight, that she
couldn't make up her mind to hop away.
"Dadda," said Dot, "You nearly killed Dot and her Kangaroo! Oh if you
killed my Kangaroo, I'd never have been happy any more!"
"But I don't understand," said her father. "How did you come to be in
the Kangaroo's pouch?"
"Oh! I've got lots and lots to tell you!" said Dot; "but come and
stroke dear Kangaroo, who saved little Dot and brought her home."
"That I will!" said Dot's father, "and never more will I hurt a
Kangaroo!"
"Nor any of the Bush creatures," said Dot. "Promise, Dadda!"
"I promise," said the big man, in a queer-sounding voice, as he kissed
Dot over and over again, and walked towards the frightened animal.
Dot wriggled down from her father's arms, and said to the Kangaroo,
"It's all right; no one's ever going to be shot or hurt here again!"
and the Kangaroo looked delighted at the good news.
"Dadda," said Dot, holding her father's hand, and, with her disengaged
hand touching the Kangaroo's little paw. "This is my own dear
Kangaroo." Dot's father, not knowing quite how to show his gratitude,
stroked the Kangaroo's head, and said, "How do you do?" which, when he
came to think of it afterwards, seemed rather a foolish thing to say.
But he wasn't used, like Dot, to talking to Bush creatures, and had not
eaten the berries of understanding.
The Kangaroo saw that Dot's father was grateful, and so she was
pleased, but she did not like to be stroked by a man who let off guns,
so she was glad that Dot's mother had run to where they were standing,
and was hugging and kissing the little girl, and crying all the time;
for then Dot's father turned and watched his wife and child, and kept
doing something to his eyes with a handkerchief, so that there was no
attention to spare for Kangaroos.
The good Kangaroo, seeing how happy these people were, and knowing that
her life was quite safe, wanted to peep about Dot's home and see what
it was like--for Kangaroos can't help being curious. So presently she
quietly hopped off towards the cottage, and then a very strange thing
happened. Just as the Kangaroo was wondering what the great iron tank
by the kitchen door was meant for, there popped out of the open door a
joey Kangaroo. Now, to human beings, all joey Kangaroos look alike,
but amongst Kangaroos there are no two the same, and Dot's Kangaroo at
once recognised in the little Joey her own baby Kangaroo. The Joey
knew its mother directly, and, whilst Dot's Kangaroo was too astonished
to move, and not being able to think, was trying to get at a conclusion
why her Joey was coming out of a cottage door, the little Kangaroo,
with a hop-skip-and-a-jump, had landed itself comfortably in the nice
pouch Dot had just vacated.
Then Dot's mother, rejoicing over the safe return of her little girl,
was not more happy than the Kangaroo with her Joey once more in her
pouch. With big bounds she leapt towards Dot, and the little girl,
suddenly looking round for her Kangaroo friend, clapped her hands with
delight as she saw a little grey nose, a pair of tiny black paws, and
the point of a black little tail, hanging out of the pouch that had
carried her so often.
"Why!" exclaimed Dot's mother, "if she hasn't got the little Joey Jack
brought me yesterday! He picked it up after a Kangaroo hunt some time
ago."
"It's her Joey; her lost Joey!" cried Dot, running to the Kangaroo.
"Oh, dear Kangaroo, I am so glad!" she said, "for now we are all happy;
as happy as can be!" Dot hugged her Kangaroo, and kissed the little
Joey, and they all three talked together, so that none of them
understood what the others were saying, only that they were all much
pleased and delighted.
"Wife" said Dot's father, "I'll tell you what's mighty queer, our
little girl is talking away to those animals, and they're all
understanding one another, as if it was the most natural thing in the
world to treat Kangaroos as if they were human beings!"
"I expect," said his wife, "that their feelings are not much different
from ours. See how that poor animal is rejoicing in getting back its
little one, just as we are over having our little Dot again."
"To think of all the poor things I have killed," said Dot's father
sadly, "I'll never do it again."
"No," said his wife, "we must try and get everyone to be kind to the
bush creatures, and protect them all we can."
This book would never come to an end if it told all that passed that
day. How Dot explained the wonderful power of the berries of
understanding, and how she told the Kangaroos all that her parents
wanted her to say on their behalf, and what kind things the Kangaroo
said in return.
All day long the Kangaroo stayed near Dot's home, and the little girl
persuaded her to eat bread, which she said was "most delicious, but one
would get tired of it sooner than grass."
Every effort was made by Dot and her parents to get the Kangaroo to
live on their selection, so that they might protect her from harm. But
she said that she liked her own free life best, only she would never go
far away and would come often to see Dot. At sunset she said good-bye
to Dot, a little sadly, and the child stood in the rosy light of the
after-glow, waving her hand, as she saw her kind animal friend hop away
and disappear into the dark shadow of the Bush.
She wandered about for some time listening to the voices of birds and
creatures, who came to tell her how glad everyone was that her way had
been found, and that no harm was to befall them in future. The news of
her safe return, and of the Kangaroo's finding her Joey, had been
spread far and near, by Willy Wagtail and the Kookooburra; and she
could hear the shouts of laughter from kookooburras telling the story
until nearly dark.
Quite late at night she was visited by the Opossum, the Native Bear,
and the Nightjar, who entered by the open window, and, sitting in the
moonlight, conversed about the day's events. They said that their
whole rest and sleep had been disturbed by the noise and excitement of
the day creatures spreading the news through the Bush. The Mo-poke
wished to sing a sad song because Dot was feeling happy, but the
Opossum warned it that it was sitting in a draught on the window sill
and might spoil its beautiful voice, so it flew away and only sang in
the distance. The Native Bear said that the story of Dot's return and
the finding of Kangaroo's Joey was so strange that it made its head
feel quite empty. The Opossum inspected everything in Dot's room, and
tried to fight itself in the looking glass. It then got the Koala to
look into the mirror also, and said it would get an idea into its
little empty head if it did. When the Koala had taken a timid peep at
itself, the Opossum said that the Koala now had an idea of how stupid
it looked, and the little bear went off to get used to having an idea
in its head. The Opossum was so pleased with its spiteful joke that it
hastily said good night, and hurried away to tell it to the other
possums.
Gradually the voices of the creatures outside became more and more
faint and indistinct; and then Dot slept in the grey light of the dawn.
When she went out in the morning, the kookooburras were gurgling and
laughing, the magpies were warbling, the parrakeets made their
twittering, and Willy Wagtail was most lively; but Dot was astonished
to find that she could not understand what any of the creatures said,
although they were all very friendly towards her. When the Kangaroo
came to see her she made signs that she wanted some berries of
understanding, but, strange as it may seem, the Kangaroo pretended not
to understand. Dot has often wondered why the Kangaroo would not
understand, but, remembering what that considerate animal had said when
she first gave her the berries, she is inclined to think that the
Kangaroo is afraid of her learning too much, and thereby getting
indigestion. Dot and her parents have often sought for the berries,
but up to now they have failed to find them. There is something very
mysterious about those berries!
During that day every creature Dot had known in the Bush came to see
her, for they all knew that their lives were safe now, so they were not
afraid. It greatly surprised Dot's parents to see such numbers of birds
and animals coming around their little girl, and they thought it very
pretty when in the evening a flock of Native Companions settled down,
and danced their graceful dance with the little girl joining in the
game.
"It seems to me, wife," said Dot's father with a glad laugh, "that the
place has become a regular menagerie!"
Later on, Dot's father made a dam to a hollow piece of ground near the
house, which soon became full of water, and is surrounded by beautiful
willow trees. There all the thirsty creatures come to drink in safety.
And very pretty it is, to sit on the verandah of that happy home, and
see Dot playing near the water surrounded by her Bush friends, who come
and go as they please, and play with the little girl beside the pretty
lake. And no one in all the Gabblebabble district hurts a bush
creature, because they are all called "Dot's friends."
FINALE.
Before putting away the pen and closing the inkstand, now that Dot has
said all she wishes to be recorded of her bewildering adventures, the
writer would like to warn little people, that the best thing to do when
one is lost in the bush, is to sit still in one place, and not to try
to find one's way home at all. If Dot had done this, and had not gone
off in the Kangaroo's pouch, she would have been found almost directly.
As the more one tries to find one's way home, the more one gets lost,
and as helpful Kangaroos like Dot's are very scarce, the best way to
get found quickly, is to wait in one place until the search parties
find one. Don't forget this advice! And don't eat any strange berries
in the bush, unless a Kangaroo brings them to you.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dot and the Kangaroo, by Ethel C. Pedley
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