he, "what was that song about?"

"I don't know," said the animal wistfully, "no one ever knows what the
Platypus sings about."

"It was very sad," said Dot.

"Dreadfully sad!" sighed the Kangaroo; "but the Platypus is a most
learned and interesting creature," she added hastily. "Its
conversation and songs are most edifying; everyone in the bush admits
it."

"Does anyone understand its conversation?" asked Dot. She was afraid
she must be very stupid, for she hadn't understood anything except that
Willy Wagtail could help them to find her way.

"That is the beauty of it all," said the Kangaroo, "the Platypus is so
learned and so instructive, that no one tries to understand it; it is
not expected that anyone should."

CHAPTER V.

"Now we must find Willy Wagtail," said the Kangaroo. "The chances are
Click-i-ti-clack, his big cousin who lives in the bush, will be able to
tell us where to find him; for he doesn't care for the bush, and lives
almost entirely with Humans, and the queer creatures they have brought
into the country now-a-days. We may have to go a long way, so hop into
my pouch, and we will get on our way."

Once more Dot was in the kind Kangaroo's pouch. It was in the latter
end of autumn, and the air was so keen, that, as her torn little frock
was now very little protection to her against the cold, she was glad to
be back in that nice fur bag. She was used now to the springy bounding
of the great Kangaroo, and felt quite safe; so that she quite enjoyed
the wonderful and seemingly dangerous things the animal did in its
great leaps and jumps.

With many rests and stops to eat berries or grass on their way, they
searched the bush for the rest of the day without finding the big bush
Wagtail. All kinds of creatures had seen him, or heard his strange
rattling, chattering song; but it always seemed that he had just flown
off a few minutes before they heard of him. It was most vexatious, and
Dot saw that another night must pass before they would be able to hear
of her home. She did not like to think of that, for she could picture
to herself all those great men, on their big rough horses, coming back
to her father's cottage that night, and how they would begin to be
quiet and sad.

She thought it would not be half so bad to be lost, if people at home
could only know that one was safe and snug in a kind Kangaroo's pouch;
but she knew that her parents could never suppose that she was so well