"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've 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 Blackfellows 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 whimpering 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 tribe 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 began acting like actors. One of the Blackfellows 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 Blackfellow, 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 Blackfellow came from the little bower in the dim background, 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 Blackfellows, 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 of 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 Blackfellow at her cottage home. But she did not say anything, for it was quite clear in her little mind that Blackfellows, 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 little white 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 corroboree, 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 the 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 Blackfellows and the 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 becoming 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 Blackfellows 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 quite 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 and rush through the air.

Yes! they had just 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 Blackfellows directly.

They stopped in their headlong speed, shouting 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 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 an 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 exhausted 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 her to save the Kangaroo's life, and yet it seemed to delight in spoiling its kindheartedness 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 being 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 Black's 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 the stony rise that fringed the plain, and thought as I did so 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, sitting 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 realized 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 the 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 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 getting 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 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 rope-like 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 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 on which Dot was swinging. 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 at any of your parties for a long time. You know, I suppose, that I lost my little 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 heard 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 a 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 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 groups 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 tail 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 yet 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?" asked 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 any 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 Kangaroo.

"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, "but 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 this 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. Emus 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 go 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 solitude 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 knew well. "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 in them, and the murmur of many voices talking together. As she gradually awakened, she realized 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 Gabblebabble 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 King?"

"Who's the King?" asked all the creatures breathlessly.

"He's a bigger Human than the rest, and everybody's business is his business, so he's always going to law."

"I know," said the Magpie, and she piped out six bars of "God save the King."

"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 King."

"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 Peeweet 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 sympathize 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 waiting! Give 'um their 'eds, Bill! So long! Ta-ra-ra, boom-di-ay! God save the King!"

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 King," 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 realize 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, odd-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 horse hairs 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, pony, 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, pony, 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 waterfowl, 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 to her, "Scratch Cockie!" 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 Ornithorhynchus 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 how she had found Willy Wagtail near his old haunt; how that gossiping little bird had told all the news of the Gabblebabble 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 the 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 in flying 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 his 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 sheoak 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.