Dot and the Kangaroo | Page 7

their drink; for, did they see you, they would be too frightened to come down, and would have to wait another night and day."
Dot got out of the pouch, and she was very sorry when she saw how terrified her friend looked. She could see the fur on the Kangaroo's chest moving with the frightened beating of her heart; and her beautiful brown eyes looked wild and strange with fear.
Instantly, the Kangaroo leaped into the open. For a second she paused erect, sniffing and listening, and then she hastened to the water. As she stooped to drink, Dot heard a "whrr, whrr, whrr," and, like falling leaves, down swept the Bronze-Wings. It was a wonderful sight. The water-hole shone in the dim light, with the great black darkness of the trees surrounding it, and from all parts came the thirsty creatures of the bush. The Bronze-Wings were all together. Hundred of little heads bobbed by the edge of the pool, as the little bills were filled, and the precious water was swallowed; then, together, a minute afterwards, "whrr, whrr, whrr," up they flew, and in one great sweeping circle they regained their tree-tops. Like the bush creatures, Dot also was frightened, and running to the water, hurriedly drank, and fled back to the shelter of the bush, where the Kangaroo was waiting for her.
"Jump in!" said the Kangaroo, "It's never safe by the water," and, a minute after, Dot was again in the cosy pouch, and was hurrying away, like all the others from the water where men are wont to camp, and kill with their guns the poor creatures that come to drink.
That evening the Kangaroo tried to persuade Dot to eat some grass, but as Dot said she had never eaten grass, it got some roots from a friendly Bandicoot, which the little girl ate because she was hungry; but she thought she wouldn't like to be a Bandicoot always to eat such food. Then in a nice dry cave she nestled into the fur of the gentle Kangaroo, and was so tired that she slept immediately.
She only woke up once. She had been dreaming that she was at home, and was playing with the new little Calf that had come the day before she was lost, and she couldn't remember, at first waking, what had happened, or where she was. It was dark in the cave, and outside the bushes and trees looked quite black--for there was but little light in that place from the starry sky. It seemed terribly lonesome and wild. When the Kangaroo spoke she remembered everything, and they both sat up and talked a little.
"Mo-poke! mo-poke!" sang the Nightjar in the distance. "I wish the Nightjar wouldn't make that noise when one wants to sleep," said the Kangaroo. "It hasn't got any voice to speak of, and the tune is stupid. It gives me the jim-jams, for it reminds me I've lost my baby kangaroo. There is something wrong about some birds that think themselves musical," she continued: "they are well behaved and considerate enough in the day, but as soon as it is a nice, quiet, calm night, or a bit of a moon is in the sky, they make night hideous to everyone within earshot--'Mo-poke! mo-poke!' Oh! it gives me the blues!"
As the Kangaroo spoke she hopped to the front of the cave.
"I say, Nightjar," she said, "I'm a little sad to-night, please go and sing elsewhere."
"Ah!" said the Nightjar, "I'm so glad I've given you deliciously dismal thoughts with my song! I'm a great artist, and can touch all hearts. That is my mission in the world: when all the bush is quiet, and everyone has time to be miserable, I make them more so--isn't it lovely to be like that?"
"I'd rather you sang something cheerful," said the Kangaroo to herself, but out loud she said, "I find it really too beautiful, it is more than I can bear. Please go a little farther off."
"Mo-poke! mo-poke!" croaked the Nightjar, farther and farther in the distance, as it flew away.
"What a pity!" said the Kangaroo, as she returned to the cave, "the 'possum made that unlucky joke of telling the Nightjar it has a touching voice, and can sing: everyone has to suffer for that joke of the 'possum's. It doesn't matter to him, for he is awake all night, but it is too bad for his neighbours who want to sleep."
Just then there arose from the bush a shrill wailing and shrieking that made Dot's heart stop with fear. It sounded terrible, as if something was wailing in great pain and suffering.
"O Kangaroo!" she cried, "what is the matter?" "That," said the Kangaroo, as she laid herself down to rest, "is the sound of the Curlew enjoying itself. They are