ooby," 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. "Wher