there were a
number of other small sounds that were strange--weak, quaint,
gurgling sounds. Finn inclined his head a little farther to one
side. Yes, his mate was licking something. Could she have been out
and hunted alone? Even that would hardly account for the queer
little, weak, strange voices within the den. The dingo people are
not cats, and when they kill they kill outright. It was extremely
puzzling and interesting, and Finn decided to investigate. After
all, this was his own home and, however rude she may have been,
Warrigal was his own mate, for whom he had fought and bled in the
past; the mate who had lovingly dressed his wounds and shared his
kills for nine weeks now--nine long, eventful weeks, which were
more than equal to nine months in human folk's lives.

Finn stooped low in the entrance and Warrigal snarled. But this
time there was no note of aggression in her snarl. Indeed, to her
mate, there was a hint of appeal in the salutation, which said
clearly: "Be careful! Please be careful!" He advanced with extreme
caution into the den, and saw his spouse lying full at length on
her side, her bushy tail curled round to form a background for the
smallest of four sleek puppies, of a yellowish grey colour, whom
she was nursing assiduously. Moving with the utmost delicacy and
care, Finn sniffed all round his mate, refraining from touching the
puppies by way of humouring Warrigal, in whose throat a low growl
sounded whenever his nose approached the little strangers. Then
Finn stood and stared at the domestic group with hanging head and
parted jaws, his tongue lolling, and his eyes saying plainly--

"Well, well, well! Who'd have thought of this! They are really very
nice little creatures, in their insignificant way, though I don't
quite see why their presence should make you snarl at your own
lawful mate."

Seeing that her lord manifestly entertained no shadow of a hostile
intention toward the family (the history of the male dingo is not
altogether free from blame in the matter of infanticide), Warrigal
raised her nose in friendly fashion to the Wolfhound and permitted
him to lick her, which he did in the most affectionate manner, and
with no further thought of her previous harshness. Then she gave a
little whine and glanced round the walls of the den. Finn barked
quietly, bidding his mate rest assured that all would be well, and
ten minutes later he was descending upon a rabbit-earth that he
knew of, a moving