"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 Hurnan."
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!
