alone in
the terrible bush--dying for want of food and water, and from fear and
exposure. How strange it seemed that people should die like that in the
bush, where so many creatures lived well, and happily! But then they had
not bush friends to tell them what berries and roots to eat, and where
to get water, and to cuddle them up in a nice warm fur during the cold
night. As she thought of this she rubbed her face against the Kangaroo's
soft coat, and patted her with her little hands; and the affectionate
animal was so pleased at these caresses, that she jumped clean over a
watercourse, twenty feet at least, in one bound.

It was getting evening time, and the sun was setting with a beautiful
rosy colour, as they came upon a lovely scene. They had followed the
watercourse until it widened out into a great shallow creek beside a
grassy plain. As they emerged from the last scattered bushes and trees
of the forest, and hopped out into the open side of a range of hills,
miles and miles of grass country, with dim distant hills, stretched
before them. The great shining surface of the creek caught the rosy
evening light, and every pink cloudlet in the sky looked doubly
beautiful reflected in the water. Here and there out of the water arose
giant skeleton trees, with huge silver trunks and contorted dead
branches. On these twisted limbs were numbers of birds: Shag, blue and
white Cranes, and black and white Ibis with their bent bills. Slowly
paddling on the creek, with graceful movements, were twenty or thirty
black Swans, and in and out of their ranks, as they passed in stately
procession, shot wild Ducks and Moor Hens, like a flotilla of little
boats amongst a fleet of big ships. All these birds were watching a
pretty sight that arrested Dot's attention at once. By the margin of the
creek, where tufted rushes and tall sedges shed their graceful
reflection on the pink waters, were a party of Native Companions
dancing.

"In these times it is seldom we can see a sight like this," said the
Kangaroo. "The water is generally too unsafe for the birds to enjoy
themselves. It often means death to them to have a little pleasure."

As the Kangaroo spoke, one of the Native Companions caught sight of her,
and leaving the dance, opened her wings, and still making dainty steps
with her long legs, half danced and half flew to where the Kangaroo was
sitting.

"Good evening, Kangaroo," she said, gracefully bowing; "will you not
come a littl