Pilla and Inda travelled swiftly through the Bush for the first two
days of their journey. They passed through good hunting country, where
they were tempted by the sign of much game, but they would not allow
themselves to turn aside, greatly as they longed for fresh meat. They
carried a little food with them, and were fortunate in finding much
boombul, which the white people afterwards called manna--a sweet white
substance rather like small pieces of loaf-sugar, with a very delicate
flavour. Boombul drops from the leaves and small branches of some
kinds of gum-trees, and the blacks loved to eat it, so Pilla and Inda
thought themselves very lucky.
They met friendly blacks now and then, as they travelled, and heard
many stories of the ferocity of Kuperee. Some of the reports were very
terrifying. It was difficult to find out how huge he was, for he
seemed to grow in size according to the terror of the men who had seen
him: some of whom said he was as large as any gum-tree. But all were
agreed as to his fierceness. He devoured men in a single gulp: he
struck them down as one might strike a yurkurn, or lizard: his
swiftness in pursuit was terrible to see. The man he chased had no
chance whatever, unless he managed to reach thick timber, where
Kuperee's size prevented his taking the gigantic leaps which so quickly
ended a chase on open ground. And about all the tales hung the sense
of blind fear which the great beast seemed to inspire. No matter how
brave a fighting-man might be, the sight of Kuperee seemed to turn his
heart to water, making him long only to flee like a frightened child.
Their voices shook with terror as they spoke of him.
"It seems to me," said Inda, as they journeyed on, after having talked
to some of these hunters, "that our first thought should be for
ourselves. All these men have thought themselves very brave, and have
gone out to meet Kuperee, never doubting that they would not be afraid:
and they have become very afraid indeed. Now you and I are no cowards
in ordinary fighting, and we have had no fear of ourselves. But I
think we had better make up our minds that we certainly shall become
afraid, and decide what to do. I do not wish to lose my senses and run
away like a beaten pickaninny."
"That is good sense," said Pilla. "Perhaps if we managed to keep our
heads during our first terror it might pass after a time, so that we
should again be as men."
"That is my idea," Inda answered. "And if Kuperee did not happen to
see us while we were afraid, so much the better for us. I do not
believe that fear will be with us always, but still, we are no better
than all these other men. I believe we will get an attack of it, and
then it will pass off, like an attack of sickness, if we treat it
properly."
"Yes," said Pilla, nodding. "But if we run away we shall be afraid for
ever--always supposing we are not dead."
"If we run away, the one that Kuperee runs after will certainly be
dead," Inda said. "Therefore, let us go very warily, and perhaps we
can manage so that he does not see us during our first fear."
"It is a queer thing," Pilla said, laughing, "for hunters to go out
making certain of being afraid."
"I think it is a safe thing just now," said Inda shortly. "This
hunting is not like other hunting."
So they went on, keeping a very sharp look-out, and having their
weapons always ready. The stone axe of Burkamukk was rather
troublesome to them, for their hands were encumbered with spears and
throwing-sticks, and they were not used to carrying an axe: so, at
last, Inda twisted strings of bark and slung it across his shoulders,
where it felt much more comfortable. Soon they came upon traces of the
great beast they sought. The forest began to be full of his tracks,
and the saplings had been pulled about and gnawed by some creature
larger than anything they had ever seen. And then, one evening, they
heard running feet, and, leaping to one side, spear in hand, they saw
half a dozen men, racing through the Bush, blind with terror. One
slipped and fell near where they were standing, and rolled almost to
their feet. Pilla and Inda drew him into a thicket.
"Is Kuperee after you?" they asked.
The man rolled his eyes upwards.
"He has slain two of us, and is now in pursuit of us all," he panted.
"Let me go!" He scrambled to his feet and dashed away.
Pilla and Inda crouched low in the thicket, seeing nothing. But
presently they heard a mighty pounding through the trees fifty yards
away: and though nothing was visible, the sound of those great leaps
was so terrifying in itself that they found themselves trembling. The
pounding died away in the direction in which the blacks had gone.
"Ky! what a tail he must have, that makes the earth shake as he goes!"
Inda muttered. "Never have I heard anything like it! Art afraid,
Pilla?"
"Very much, I believe," said Pilla. "But it will pass, I feel sure.
Brother, it seems to me that Kuperee's den must be not far off, and it
would be safe to try to find it, since he has gone southward for his
hunting: and most likely he will return slowly. Let us push on, while
we can go quickly."
"That is good talk," Inda answered. "Perhaps we can hide ourselves
near his den, and watch him without being seen. I should like to get
my terror over in a high tree."
"I, too," said Pilla. "I fancy the attack might pass more quickly.
Let us hurry."
They pushed onward as fast as possible. It was not hard to find the
way, for the blacks had fled too madly to trouble about leaving tracks,
and the marks of their running made a clear path, to native eyes.
Soon, too, they came upon Kuperee's tracks--great footprints and deep
depressions in the earth where his enormous tail had hit the ground at
every bound. Then the Bush became more and more beaten down, as though
some great animal roamed through it constantly; and at last they found
the body of a hunter, struck down from behind as he ran.
"It was no playful tap that killed him," said Pilla, with a shudder.
"The other, I suppose, was eaten as Kuperee loves to eat men, in one
gulp. See, Inda--is not that where he sleeps?"
They were near a cleared space, where the ground was much trampled.
Bones lay here and there, and in the shadow of a dense lightwood tree
in the middle the grass showed clearly where a great body had often
lain. No kangaroo has any kind of hole, for they love the Bush to
sleep in, and Kuperee was evidently like other kangaroos in this.
Probably he changed his home often; but this was a good place, ringed
about with bushes that made it quiet and hard to find, so that no enemy
was likely to come upon him too suddenly; while, from his lair under
the lightwood, he could see anything approach.
"Men, or animals, or leaves--it does not seem to matter to him what he
eats," said Inda, looking at the lair. "No wonder he grows huge.
Pilla, I am very afraid, but I feel I will not always be afraid. Let
us climb up into the lightwood tree; he will never see us among its
thick leaves. Then he will come home tired, and perhaps we can spear
him as he sleeps."
They climbed up into the dense branches, mounting high, and choosing
stout limbs to lie on where they could peer down below; and they fixed
their spears and other weapons so that they could use them easily. The
stone axe of Burkamukk was much in Inda's way in climbing, and finally
he untied it from his shoulders.
"I do not see how I can use this in the tree," he said. "See, I will
strike it into the trunk, so that we can get at it handily if we need
it."
He smote it against the trunk, and the wood held it fast. Then he and
Pilla took their places, and watched for the coming of Kuperee.
They had not long to wait. Presently came, far off, the sound of great
bounds and breaking saplings; not, as they had heard it last, in the
fierceness of pursuit, but slowly, as a man may return home after
successful hunting. The brothers felt their hearts thumping as they
waited. Nearer and nearer came the sound, and soon the bushes parted
and a mighty kangaroo hopped into the clearing.
So huge was he, so black and fierce, that they caught at each other in
terror. Never had they dreamed of any kangaroo like this. His fur was
thick and long, and of a glossy black; his head carried proudly aloft,
his great tail like the limb of a tree. And in his gleaming eyes, and
on his fierce face, was an expression of cunning and ferocity that,
even more than his size, made him unlike any animal the Bush had ever
known. Something of mystery and terror seemed to surround him; it was
indeed clear that he was Magic. Pilla and Inda trembled so that they
feared that the lightwood would shake and reveal them to the monster.
He sat down, out on the clear space, and rubbed his mouth with his
forepaws, sniffing at the air so that they fell into a further terror,
thinking he had smelt them out. But one blackfellow smells much like
another, and Kuperee had recently dealt with three blacks: if he
noticed any unusual odour he put it down to his late meal. He felt
sleepy and well-fed; he had enjoyed both his run and his meal. Now, he
only wanted sleep.
He hopped towards the lightwood, and at his coming Pilla and Inda felt
themselves gripped by overmastering fear. Their teeth chattered; their
dry tongues seemed to choke them. They clung to their boughs, dreading
lest their trembling hold should loosen, bringing them tumbling at his
feet. So, gripping with toes and fingers, with sweating cheeks pressed
closely to the limbs, with staring eyes that peered downwards, they
watched the dreadful beast come.
He came in under the tree and lay down, stretching himself out to
sleep; and in a few moments his heavy breathing showed that he had
passed quietly into slumber. As they watched, something of their
terror left the brothers. Asleep, Kuperee was not so horrible; he
looked, indeed, not so unlike any other kangaroo, with his fierce eyes
veiled and the strength of his great body relaxed.
"I believe my time of fear is passing," Inda whispered. "He is but a
kangaroo, after all."
"Yes, but what a terrible one!" murmured Pilla, as well as his
chattering teeth would let him. "Still, we are mighty hunters, and no
fools: unless he is really Magic we should be able to subdue him. I am
beginning to feel a man again."
"We do not know for certain that he is Magic. Let us believe, then,
that he is not, and that will help us," Inda whispered. "Why should we
not spear him as he lies?"
"We might easily do it. Let us creep to the lower boughs, where we
shall have more room to move our arms. Art afraid any longer, Inda?"
"Not as I was," Inda replied. "At least, not while he sleeps."
"Then let us try to arrange that he shall never wake," Pilla murmured.
Very softly, with infinite caution, they crept down the tree, until
they came to the great lower limbs. Here they had space to swing their
arms, and they made their weapons ready. Below, the huge kangaroo
never stirred. His deep breathing, telling of sound slumber, was music
in the ears of the brothers. They nodded a signal to each other as
they poised their first spears.
So swiftly did they throw that before Kuperee was aroused from his
sleep a shower of throwing-sticks and spears had hurtled through the
air. Not one missed; the mark was easy, and the brothers were proved
hunters. The weapons sped fast and true. But a terrible thing
happened. Each point, as it struck Kuperee's fur, became blunt, and,
instead of piercing him in fifty places, the weapons fell back from
him, spent and useless.
With a groan of fear, the brothers grasped at the branches and swung
themselves aloft. Below, Kuperee's roar of fury drowned all other
sounds. He sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing. He had received no
injury, but he had been touched--that in itself was an indignity he had
never suffered before. With another earth-shaking roar he looked about
for his foes.
To be attacked from the air was a new experience for Kuperee. All his
other enemies had come upon him out of the Bush, and it never occurred
to him, in his rage, to look upward, where the shaking of the branches
would certainly have revealed the terrified Pilla and Inda. Instead,
seeing nothing, Kuperee made sure that the trees concealed the
attackers. He roared again, dreadfully, and bounded across the
clearing. The Bush closed behind him, but the sky rang with the echo
of his terrible voice and the thud of the leaps that carried him
rapidly away.
Kuperee sleeping and Kuperee awake and angry were two very different
beings, and with the first movement of the monster all their fear had
come back to Pilla and Inda. As roar succeeded roar they became more
and more weak with terror. Their grip on the boughs relaxed with the
trembling of their hands, and even as Kuperee bounded away they lost
their hold and tumbled bodily out of the tree.
It was not far to the ground, but Pilla happened to fall first, and
Inda fell on top of him, and they managed to hurt each other a good
deal. They were in that excited and over-wrought state when anything
seems an injury, and each lost his temper.
"You did that on purpose!" Pilla said, striking at his brother. "Take
that!"
"Would you!" said Inda, between his teeth. "I'll teach you to hit me!"
He stooped and picked up one of the throwing-sticks and flung it at his
brother. It hit Pilla violently on the nose, and made him furiously
angry. He gathered an armful of the fallen spears, and, running back,
threw them at Inda so swiftly that there was no time to dodge. They
hit him all over his body, and though they had all become blunt, they
hurt very badly. The blood was streaming from Pilla's nose, and when
he had thrown all his spears he stopped to wipe it off with a tuft of
grass. The pause gave them time to think, and they stared at each
other. Suddenly they burst out laughing.
"What fools we are!" they said.
"Yes, we are indeed fools," said Inda, rubbing his bruises. "Kuperee
may be back at any moment, and here we will be found, fighting each
other like a couple of stupid boys. I am sorry I hurt you, brother."
"You have certainly done that," said Pilla, caressing his nose gently.
"There will be a dint down my nose for ever--the bone is broken, I
think. Why don't you hit Kuperee as hard as that?"
"I will, if I get the chance," Inda said. "And you yourself are no
child when it comes to throwing spears--a good thing for me that they
were blunt. Yes, brother, we are the biggest fools in the Bush. Now
what are we to do?"
"Save yourself!" screamed Pilla. "Here comes Kuperee!"
The great kangaroo came bounding back through the bushes, and the
brothers, wild with terror, flung themselves at the lightwood tree. Up
they went, but only just in time. Inda's heel was grazed by Kuperee's
claw as he gained the safety of the lower branches. He climbed up
swiftly, and, clinging together, they looked down at their foe.
"He cannot climb!" gasped Pilla.
"No, but he will have the tree down!" cried his brother.
Kuperee was flinging himself against the tree, until it rocked beneath
the blows of his great body. Again and again came the dull thud as he
drew himself back and came dashing against the trunk. Gradually it
yielded, beginning to lean sidewards. Lower and lower it came, and
Kuperee, rising high on his hind-legs and tail, clawed upward at Inda.
As the hunter, with a cry of despair, tried to pull himself higher,
Pilla, leaning from an upper branch, thrust something into his hand.
"It is the stone axe of our father," he gasped. "Strike with it,
brother!"
Inda grasped the handle, and smote downward with all his might. The
keen edge of the stone caught Kuperee in the forehead, and sank into
his head. He fell back, wrenching the axe from Inda's hand. One more
terrific roar rent the air--a cry of pain and anger fearful to hear.
Then, with a dull groan the monster sank sidewards to the grass. He
was dead.
It was long before Pilla and Inda dared to quit the shelter of the
leaning tree. They could scarcely believe that their enemy was dead,
until they saw the mighty limbs stiffen, and beheld a crow perch,
unmolested, on Kuperee's head. Then the brothers came down from the
tree and clasped each other's hands.
"That was a good blow of yours," said Pilla.
"Ay, but it would never have been struck had you not put the axe into
my hands," said Inda. "I had forgotten all about it. Our names will
live long, brother."
"That will be agreeable, but I wish my nose were not so sore," said
Pilla. "And your bruises--how are they?"
"Sore enough--but I had almost forgotten them. Ky, but I am hungry,
Pilla!"
"I, too," said Pilla, looking with interest at the great dead body.
"Well, at least we have plenty of food--Burkamukk said long ago that
Kuperee should be enough for the whole tribe. Let us skin him
carefully, for his hide will be a proud trophy to take back to our
father--if we can but carry it."
"We shall eat him while it is drying," Inda said. "Then the skin will
be lighter, and we shall be exceedingly strong. Come, brother--my
hunger grows worse."
They fell to work on the huge carcass with their sharp skinning-knives,
made of the thigh-bones of kangaroos. And then befel the most
wonderful thing of all.