It was fortunate that the Kangaroo could not think of all that might befall
them, or she never could have had courage for the wonderful feats of
jumping she performed. Poor little Dot, whose busy brain pictured all
kinds of terrible fates, was so overcome with fear that she seemed hardly
to know what had, happened; and the more she thought, the more terrified
she became.
The Kangaroo did not attempt to continue the upward ascent, but followed a
slope of the rugged hill, leaping from rock to rock. This was better than
trying to escape where the trees and shrubs would have prevented her
making those astonishing bounds. But the clouds had left the moon clear
for a while, so that the black fellows and dogs easily followed every
movement, as they pursued the hunt on a smoother level below. The blacks
were trying to hurry on, so as to cut off the Kangaroo's retreat at a spur
of the hill, where, to get away, she would have to leave the rocks and
descend towards them. In the meantime Dot's ears were filled with the
sounds of snarling snaps from the dingo dogs, and hideous noises from the
blacks, encouraging the animals to attack the Kangaroo. But what pained
her most were the gasps and little moans of her good friend, as she put
such tremendous power into every leap she made for their lives; crashing
through twigs, and scattering stones and pebbles, in the wild speed of
their flight.
Then Dot's busy little brain told her another thing, which made her more
miserable. It was quite clear that the poor Kangaroo was getting rapidly
exhausted, owing to her having to bear Dot's weight. Her panting became
more and more distressing, and so did her sad moans and flecks of foam
from her straining lips fell on Dot's face and hands. Dot knew that her
Kangaroo was trying to save her at the risk of her own life. Without the
little girl in her pouch, she might get away safely; but, with her to
carry, they would both probably fall victims to the fierce blacks and
their dogs.
"Kangaroo! Kangaroo!" she cried, "put me down; drop Dot anywhere,
anywhere, but don't get killed yourself!"
But all Dot heard was a little hissing sound from the brave animal, which
sounded like, "Never again!"
"You will be killed," moaned Dot.
"Together!" said the little hissing voice, as another great bound brought
them to the spur of the hill; and then the Kangaroo had to pause.
In that moment Dot seemed to hear and see everything. They were perched
on a rock, and the moonlight lit all their surroundings like day. To the
right was a deep black chasm, with a white foaming waterfall pouring into
the darkness below. In front was the same wide chasm, only less wide, and
beyond it, on the other side of the great yawning cleft in the earth, was
a wild spread of morass country--a gloomy, terrible-looking place. To the
left was a steep slope of small rocks and stones, leading downwards to the
hollow of sedgy land that fringed the cliffs of the chasm. The only
retreat possible was to pass down this declivity, and try to escape by the
sedgy land, and this is what the black huntsmen had expected. It was a
very weird and desolate place; and everything looked dark and dismal,
under the moonlight, as it streamed between stormy black clouds. In that
light Dot could see the blacks hurrying forward. Already one of the dogs
had far outrun the others, and with wolfish gait and savage sounds, was
pressing towards their place of observation.
The panting, trembling Kangaroo saw the approaching dog, also, and leaped
down from the crag. As she dropped to earth, she stooped, and quickly
lifted Dot out of her pouch, and, almost before Dot could realize the
movement, she found herself standing alone, whilst the Kangaroo hopped
forward to the front of a big boulder, as if to meet the dog. Here the
poor hunted creature took her stand, with her back close to the rock.
Gentle and timid as she was, and unfitted by nature to fight for her life
against fierce odds, it was brave indeed of the poor Kangaroo to face her
enemies, prepared to do battle for the lives of little Dot and herself.
So noble did Dot's Kangaroo look in that desperate moment, standing erect,
waiting for her foe, and conquering her naturally frightened nature by a
grand effort of courage, that it seemed impossible that either dogs or men
should be so cruel as to take her life. For a moment the dingo hound
seemed daunted by her bravery, and paused a little way off, panting, with
its great tongue lolling out of its mouth. Dot could see its sharp,
wicked teeth gleaming in the moonlight. For a few seconds it hesitated to
make the attack, and looked back down the slope, to see if the other dogs
were coming to help; but they were only just beginning the ascent, and the
shouting black fellows were further off still. Then the dog could no
longer control its savage nature. It longed to leap at the poor Kangaroo's
throat--that pretty furry throat that Dot's arms had so often encircled
lovingly, and it was impatient to fix its terrible teeth there, and hold,
and hold, in a wild struggle, until the poor Kangaroo should gradually
weaken from fear and exhaustion, and be choked to death. These thoughts
filled the dog with a wicked joy. It wouldn't wait any longer for the
other dingo hounds. It wanted to murder the Kangaroo all by itself; so,
with a toss of its head, and a terrible snarl, it sprang forward
ferociously, with open jaws, aiming at the victim's throat.
Dot clasped her cold hands together. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and
her little voice, choking with sobs, could only wail, "Oh! dear Kangaroo!
my dear Kangaroo! Don't kill my dear Kangaroo!" and she ran forward to
throw herself upon the dog and try to save her friend.
But before the terrified little girl could reach the big rock, the dog had
made its spring upon her friend. The brave Kangaroo, instead of trying to
avoid her fierce enemy, opened her little arms, and stood erect and tall
to receive the attack. The dog in its eagerness, and owing to the nature
of the ground, misjudged the distance it had to spring. It failed to
reach the throat it had aimed at, and in a moment the Kangaroo had seized
the hound in a tight embrace. There was a momentary struggle, the dog
snapping and trying to free itself, and the Kangaroo holding it firmly.
Then she used the only weapon she had to defend herself from dogs and
men--the long sharp claw in her foot. Whilst she held the dog in her
arms, she raised her powerful leg, and with that long, strong claw, tore
open the dog's body. The dog yelped in pain as the Kangaroo threw it to
the ground, where it lay rolling in agony and dying; for the Kangaroo had
given it a terrible wound. The other dogs were still some distance below,
and the cries of their companion caused them to pause in fear and wonder,
while the black men could be seen advancing in the dim light, flourishing
their spears and boomerangs. It was impossible to retreat that way; and
where Dot and her Kangaroo were, they were hemmed in by a rocky cliff and
the deep black chasm. The Kangaroo saw at a glance where lay their only
chance of life. She picked up Dot, placed her in her pouch, and without a
word leaped forward towards that fearful gulf of darkness and foaming
waters. As they neared the spot, Dot saw that the hunted animal was going
to try and leap across to the other side. It seemed impossible that with
one bound she could span that terrible place and reach the sedged morass
beyond; and still more impossible that it should be done by the poor
animal with heavy Dot in her pouch. Again Dot cried, "Oh! darling
Kangaroo, leave me here, and save yourself. You can never, never do it
carrying me!"
All she heard was something like "try," or "we'll die." She could not make
out what the Kangaroo said, for the crashing of the waterfall, the
whistling of the wind, and the scattering of stones as they dashed forward,
made such a storm of noises in her ears. She could see when they reached
the grassy fringe of the precipice, where the Kangaroo was able to quicken
her pace, and literally seemed to fly to their fate. Then came the last
bound before the great spring. Dot held her breath, and a feeling of
sickness came over her. Her head seemed giddy, and she could not see, but
she clasped her hands together and said, "God help my Kangaroo!" and then
she felt the fearful leap with the rush through the air.
Yes! they had reached the other side. No! they had not quite: what was the
matter? What a struggle! Stones falling, twigs and grasses wrenching, the
courageous Kangaroo fighting for a foothold on the very brink of the
precipice. What a terrible moment! Every second Dot felt sure they would
fall backward and drop deep into the gully below, to be dashed to pieces
on the rocks and the tree tops. But God did help Dot's Kangaroo; the
little reeds and rushes held tightly in the earth, and the poor struggling
animal, exerting all her remaining strength, gained the reedy slope safely.
She staggered forward a few reeling hops, and then fell to the earth like
a dead creature. In an instant Dot was out of the pouch and had her arm
round the poor animal's neck, crying, as she saw blood and foam oozing
from her mouth, and a strange dim look in her sad eyes.
"Don't die, dear Kangaroo! Oh, please don't die!" cried Dot, wringing her
hands, and burying her face in the fur of the poor gasping creature.
"Dot," panted the Kangaroo, "make a noise! Cry loud! Not safe yet!"
The little girl didn't understand why the Kangaroo wanted her to make a
noise, and she had, in her fear and sorrow, quite forgotten their pursuers.
But now she turned, and could hear the blacks, urging on their dogs as
they were making an attempt to skirt round the precipice, and gain the
other side of the chasm. So Dot did as she was told, and screamed and
cried like the most naughty of children; and the gasping Kangaroo told her
to go on doing so.
Then what seemed to Dot a very terrifying thing happened; for she soon
heard other cries mingle with hers. From the desolate morass, and from
the gully in darkness below, came the sound of a bellowing. She stopped
crying and listened, and could hear those awesome voices all around, and
the echoes made them still more hobgoblinish. The Kangaroo's eyes
brightened, as she restrained her panting, and listened also. "Go on,"
she said, "we're safe now," so Dot made more crying, and her noises and
the others would have frightened anyone who had heard them in that lonely
place, with the wind storming in the trees, and the black clouds flying
over the moon. It frightened the black fellows directly.
They stopped in their headlong speed, shouting all together in their
shrill voices, "The Bunyip! The Bunyip!" and they tumbled over one
another in their hurry to get away from a place haunted, as they thought,
by that wicked demon which they fear so much. At full speed they fled
back to their camp, with the sound of Dot's cries, and the mysterious
bellowing noise, following them on the breeze; and they never stopped
running until they regained the light of their camp fires. There they
told the gins, in awe-struck voices, how it had been no Kangaroo they had
hunted, but the "Bunyip", who had pretended to be one. And the black gins'
eyes grew wider and wider, and they made strange noises and exclamations,
as they listened to the story of how the "Bunyip" had led the huntsmen to
that dreadful place. How it had torn one of the dogs to pieces, and had
leaped over the precipice into Dead Man's Gully, where it had cried like a
picaninny, and bellowed like a bull. No one slept in the camp that night,
and early the next morning the whole tribe went away, being afraid to
remain so near the haunt of the dreaded "Bunyip."
Dot saw the flight of the blacks in the dim distance, and told the good
news to the Kangaroo, who, however, was too exhausted to rejoice at their
escape. She still lay where she had fallen, gasping, and with her tongue
hanging down from her mouth like that of a dog.
In vain Dot caressed her, and called her by endearing names; she lay quite
still, as if unable to hear or feel. Dot's little heart swelled within
her, and taking the poor animal's drooping head on her lap, she sat quite
still and tearless; waiting in that solitude for her one friend to
die--leaving her lonely and helpless.
Presently she was startled by hearing a brisk voice: "Then it was a human
picaninny, after all! Well, my dear, what are you doing here?"
Dot turned her head without moving, and saw a little way behind her a
brown bird on long legs, standing with its feet close together, with the
self-satisfied air of a dancing master about to begin a lesson.
Dot did not care for any other creature in the Bush just then but her
Kangaroo, and the perky air of the bird annoyed her in her sorrow. Without
answering, she bent her head closer down to that of her poor friend, to
see if her eyes were still shut, and wondered if they would ever open and
look bright and gentle again.
The little brown bird strutted with ail important air to where it had a
better view of Dot and her companion, and eyed them both in the same perky
manner. "Friend Kangaroo's in a bad way," it said; "why don't you do
something sensible, instead of messing about with its head?"
"What can I do?" whimpered Dot.
"Give it water, and damp its skin, of course," said the little Bird,
contemptuously. "What fools Humans are," it exclaimed to itself. "And I
suppose you will tell me there is no water here, when all the time you are
sitting on a spring."
"But I'm sitting on grass," said Dot, now fully attentive to the bird's
remarks.
"Well, booby," sneered the bird, "and under the grass is wet moss, which,
if you make a hole in it, will fill with water. Why, I'd do it myself,
in a moment, only your claws are better suited for the purpose than mine.
Set about it at once!" it said sharply.
In an instant Dot did what the bird directed, and thrust her little hands
into the soft grass roots and moss, out of which water pressed, as if from
a sponge. She had soon made a little hole, and the most beautiful clear
water welled up into it at once. Then, in the hollows of her little hands,
she collected it, and dashed it over the Kangaroo's parched tongue, and,
further instructed by the kindly though rude little bird, she had soon well
wetted the suffering animal's fur. Gradually the breathing of the Kangaroo
became less of an effort, her tongue moistened and returned to the mouth,
and at last Dot saw with joy the brown eyes open, and she knew that her
good friend was not going to die, but would get well again. Whilst all
this took place, the little brown bird stood on one leg, with its head
cocked on one side, watching the Kangaroo's recovery with a comic
expression of curiosity and conceit. When it spoke to Dot, it did so
without any attempt at being polite, and Dot thought it the strangest
possible creature, because it was really very kind in helping to save the
Kangaroo's life, and yet it seemed to delight in spoiling its
kind-heartedness by its rudeness. Afterwards the Kangaroo told her that
the little Bittern is a really tender-hearted fellow, but he has an idea
that kindness in rather small creatures provokes the contempt of the big
ones. As he always wants to be thought a bigger bird than he is, he
pretends to be hard-hearted by being rough; consequently, nearly all the
Bush creatures simply regard him as a rude little bird, because bad manners
are no proof of being grown-up; rather the contrary.
"How do you feel now?" asked the Bittern, as the Kangaroo presently
struggled up and squatted rather feebly on her haunches, looking about in
a somewhat dazed way.
"I'm better now," said the Kangaroo, "but, dear me, how everything seems
to dance up and down!" She shut her eyes, for she felt giddy.
"That was rather a good jump of yours," said the Bittern, patronizingly,
as if jumps for life like that of Dot's Kangaroo were made every day, and
he was a judge of them!
"Ah, I remember!" said the Kangaroo, opening her eyes again and looking
round. "Where is Dot?"
"Umph, that silly!" exclaimed the Bittern, as Dot came forward, and she
and the Kangaroo rejoiced over each other's safety. "Much good she'd have
been to you with the blacks, and their dogs after you, if we Bitterns
hadn't played that old trick of ours of scaring them with our big voices.
He! he! he!" it chuckled, "how they did run when we tuned up! They thought
the Bunyip had got them this time. Didn't we laugh!"
"It was very good of you," said the Kangaroo gratefully, "and it is not
the first time you have saved Kangaroos by your cleverness. I didn't know
you Bitterns were near, so I told Dot to make a noise in the hope of
frightening them."
The Bittern was really touched by the Kangaroo's gratitude, and was
delighted at being called clever, so it became still more ungracious.
"You needn't trouble me with thanks," it said indifferently, "we didn't do
it to save you, but for our own fun. As for that little stupid," it
continued, with a nod of the head towards Dot, "her squeals were no more
good than the squeak of a tree frog in a Bittern's beak."
"But you were very kind," said Dot, "and showed me how to get water to
save Kangaroo's life."
The Bittern was greatly pleased at this praise, and in consequence it got
still ruder, and making a face at Dot, exclaimed, "Yah!" and stalked off.
But when it had gone a few steps it turned round and said to the Kangaroo,
roughly, "If you hop that way, keeping to the side of the sedges, and go
half a dozen small hops beyond that white gum tree, you'll find a little
cave. It's dry and warm, and good enough for Kangaroos." And without
waiting for thanks for this last kind act, it spread its wings and
flew away.
