Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
DOT AND THE KANGAROO
by
Ethel C. Pedley
To the
children of Australia
in the hope of enlisting their sympathies
for the many
beautiful, amiable, and frolicsome creatures
of their fair land,
whose extinction, through ruthless destruction,
is being surely accomplished
CHAPTER I.
Little Dot had lost her way in the bush. She knew it, and was very
frightened. She was too frightened in fact to cry, but stood in the
middle of a little dry, bare space, looking around her at the scraggy
growths of prickly shrubs that had torn her little dress to rags,
scratched her bare legs and feet till they bled, and pricked her hands
and arms as she had pushed madly through the bushes, for hours, seeking
her home. Sometimes she looked up to the sky. But little of it could
be seen because of the great tall trees that seemed to her to be trying
to reach heaven with their far-off crooked branches. She could see
little patches of blue sky between the tangled tufts of her way in the
and was very drooping leaves, and, as the dazzling sunlight had faded,
she began to think it was getting late, and that very soon it would be
night.
The thought of being lost and alone in the wild bush at night, took her
breath away with fear, and made her tired little legs tremble under
her. She gave up all hope of finding her home, and sat down at the foot
of the biggest blackbutt tree, with her face buried in her hands and
knees, and thought of all that had happened, and what might happen yet.
It seemed such a long, long time since her mother had told her that she
might gather some bush flowers while she cooked the dinner, and Dot
recollected how she was bid not to go out of sight of the cottage. How
she wished now she had remembered this sooner! But whilst she was
picking the pretty flowers, a hare suddenly started at her feet and
sprang away into the bush, and she had run after it. When she found
that she could not catch the hare, she discovered that she could no
longer see the cottage. After wandering for a while she got frightened
and ran, and ran, little knowing that she was going further away from
her home at every step.
Where she was sitting under the blackbutt tree, she was miles away from
her father's selection, and it would be very difficult for anyone to
find her. She felt that she was a long way off, and she began to think
of what was happening at home. She remembered how, not very long ago,
a neighbour's little boy had been lost, and how his mother had come to
their cottage for help to find him, and that her father had ridden off
on the big bay horse to bring men from all the selections around to
help in the search. She remembered their coming back in the darkness;
numbers of strange men she had never seen before. Old men, young men,
and boys, all on their rough-coated horses, and how they came indoors,
and what a noise they made all talking together in their big deep
voices. They looked terrible men, so tall and brown and fierce, with
their rough bristly beards; and they all spoke in such funny tones to
her, as if they were trying to make their voices small.
During many days, these men came and went, and every time they were
more sad, and less noisy. The little boy's mother used to come and
stay, crying, whilst the men were searching the bush for her little
son. Then, one evening, Dot's father came home alone, and both her
mother and the little boy's mother went away in a great hurry. Then,
very late, her mother came back crying, and her father sat smoking by
the fire looking very sad, and she never saw that little boy again,
although he had been found.
She wondered now if all these rough, big men were riding into the bush
to find her, and if, after many days, they would find her, and no one
ever see her again. She seemed to see her mother crying, and her
father very sad, and all the men very solemn. These thoughts made her
so miserable that she began to cry herself.
Dot does not know how long she was sobbing in loneliness and fear, with
her head on her knees, and with her little hands covering her eyes so
as not to see the cruel wild bush in which she was lost. It seemed a
long time before she summoned up courage to uncover her weeping eyes,
and look once more at the bare, dry earth, and the wilderness of scrub
and trees that seemed to close her in as if she were in a prison. When
she did look up, she was surprised to see that she was no longer alone.
She forgot all her trouble and fear in her astonishment at seeing a big
grey Kangaroo squatting quite close to her, in front of her.
What was most surprising was the fact that the Kangaroo evidently
understood that Dot was in trouble, and was sorry for her; for down the
animal's nice soft grey muzzle two tiny little tears were slowly
trickling. When Dot looked up at it with wonder in her round blue eyes,
the Kangaroo did not jump away, but remained gazing sympathetically at
Dot with a slightly puzzled air. Suddenly the big animal seemed to
have an idea, and it lightly hopped off into the scrub, where Dot could
just see it bobbing up and down as if it were hunting for something.
Presently back came the strange Kangaroo with a spray of berries in her
funny black hands. They were pretty berries. Some were green, some
were red, some blue, and others white. Dot was quite glad to take them
when the Kangaroo offered them to her; and as this friendly animal
seemed to wish her to eat them, she did so gladly, because she was
beginning to feel hungry.
After she had eaten a few berries a very strange thing happened. While
Dot had been alone in the bush it had all seemed so dreadfully still.
There had been no sound but the gentle stir of a light, fitful breeze
in the far-away tree-tops. All around had been so quiet, that her
loneliness had seemed twenty times more lonely. Now, however, under
the influence of these small, sweet berries, Dot was surprised to hear
voices everywhere. At first it seemed like hearing sounds in a dream,
they were so faint and distant, but soon the talking grew nearer and
nearer, louder and clearer, until the whole bush seemed filled with
talking.
They were all little voices, some indeed quite tiny whispers and
squeaks, but they were very numerous, and seemed to be everywhere.
They came from the earth, from the bushes, from the trees, and from the
very air. The little girl looked round to see where they came from,
but everything looked just the same. Hundreds of ants, of all kinds
and sizes, were hurrying to their nests; a few lizards were scuttling
about amongst the dry twigs and sparse grasses; there were some
grasshoppers, and in the trees birds fluttered to and fro. Then Dot
knew that she was hearing, and understanding, everything that was being
said by all the insects and creatures in the bush.
All this time the Kangaroo had been speaking, only Dot had been too
surprised to listen. But now the gentle, soft voice of the kind animal
caught her attention, and she found the Kangaroo was in the middle of a
speech.
"I understood what was the matter with you at once," she was saying,
"for I feel just the same myself. I have been miserable, like you,
ever since I lost my baby Kangaroo. You also must have lost something.
Tell me what it is?"
"I've lost my way," said Dot; rather wondering if the Kangaroo would
nderstand her.
"Ah!" said the Kangaroo, quite delighted at her own cleverness, "I knew
you had lost something! Isn't it a dreadful feeling? You feel as if
you had no inside, don't you? And you're not inclined to eat
anything--not even the youngest grass. I have been like that ever
since I lost my baby Kangaroo. Now tell me," said the creature
confidentially, "what your way is like. I may be able to find it for
you."
Dot found that she must explain what she meant by saying she had "lost
her way," and the Kangaroo was much interested.
"Well," said she, after listening to the little girl, "that is just
like you Humans; you are not fit for this country at all! Of course,
if you have only one home in one place, you must lose it! If you made
your home everywhere and anywhere, it would never be lost. Humans are
no good in our bush," she continued. "Just look at yourself now. How
do you compare with a Kangaroo? There is your ridiculous sham coat.
Well, you have lost bits of it all the way you have come to-day, and
you're nearly left in your bare skin. Now look at my coat. I've done
ever so much more hopping than you to-day, and you see I'm none the
worse. I wonder why all your fur grows upon the top of your head," she
said reflectively, as she looked curiously at Dot's long flaxen curls.
"It's such a silly place to have one's fur the thickest! You see, we
have very little there; for we don't want our heads made any hotter
under the Australian sun. See how much better off you would be, now
that nearly all your sham coat is gone, if that useless fur had been
chopped into little, short lengths and spread all over your poor bare
body. I wonder why you Humans are made so badly," she ended, with a
puzzled air.
Dot felt for a moment as if she ought to apologise for being so unfit
for the bush, and for having all the fur on the top of her head. But,
somehow, she had an idea that a little girl must be something better
than a kangaroo, although the Kangaroo certainly seemed a very superior
person; so she said nothing, but again began to eat the berries.
"You must not eat any more of these berries," said the Kangaroo,
anxiously.
"Why?" asked Dot, "they are very nice, and I'm very hungry."
The Kangaroo gently took the spray out of Dot's hand, and threw it
away. "You see," she said, "if you eat too many of them, you'll know
too much."
"One can't know too much," argued the little girl.
"Yes you can, though," said the Kangaroo, quickly. "If you eat too
many of those berries, you'll learn too much, and that gives you
indigestion, and then you become miserable. I don't want you to be
miserable any more, for I'm going to find your lost way."
The mention of finding her way reminded the little girl of her sad
position, which, in her wonder at talking with the Kangaroo, had been
quite forgotten for a little while. She became sad again; and seeing
how dim the light was getting, her thoughts went back to her parents.
She longed to be with them to be kissed and cuddled, and her blue eyes
filled with tears.
"Your eyes just now remind me of two fringed violets, with the morning
dew on them, or after a shower," said the Kangaroo. "Why are you
crying?"
"I was thinking," said Dot.
"Oh! don't think!" pleaded the Kangaroo; "I never do myself."
"I can't help it!" explained the little girl. "What do you do
instead?" she asked.
"I always jump to conclusions," said the Kangaroo, and she promptly
bounded ten feet at one hop. Lightly springing back again to her
position in front of the child, she added, "and that's why I never have
a headache."
"Dear Kangaroo," said Dot, "do you know where I can get some water?
I'm very thirsty!"
"Of course you are," said her friend; "everyone is at sundown. I'm
thirsty myself. But the nearest water-hole is a longish way off, so we
had better start at once."
Little Dot got up with an effort. After her long run and fatigue, she
was very stiff, and her little legs were so tired and weak, that after
a few steps she staggered and fell.
The Kangaroo looked at the child compassionately. "Poor little Human,"
she said, "your legs aren't much good, and, for the life of me, I don't
understand how you can expect to get along without a tail. The
water-hole is a good way off," she added, with a sigh, as she looked
down at Dot, lying on the ground, and she was very puzzled what to do.
But suddenly she brightened up. "I have an idea," she said joyfully.
"Just step into my pouch, and I'll hop you down to the water-hole in
less time than it takes a locust to shrill."
Timidly and carefully, Dot did the Kangaroo's bidding, and found
herself in the cosiest, softest little bag imaginable. The Kangaroo
seemed overjoyed when Dot was comfortably settled in her pouch. "I
feel as if I had my dear baby kangaroo again!" she exclaimed; and
immediately she bounded away through the tangled scrub, over stones and
bushes, over dry water-courses and great fallen trees. All Dot felt
was a gentle rocking motion, and a fresh breeze in her face, which made
her so cheerful that she sang this song:--
If you want to go quick,
I will tell you a trick
For the bush, where there isn't a train.
With a hulla-buloo,
Hail a big kangaroo--
But be sure that your weight she'll sustain--
Then with hop, and with skip,
She will take you a trip
With the speed of the very best steed;
And, this is a truth for which I can vouch,
There's no carriage can equal a kangaroo's pouch.
Oh! where is a friend so strong and true
As a dear big, bounding kangaroo?
"Good bye! Good bye!"
The lizards all cry,
Each drying its eyes with its tail.
"Adieu! Adieu!
Dear kangaroo!"
The scared little grasshoppers wail.
"They're going express
To a distant address,"
Says the bandicoot, ready to scoot;
And your path is well cleared for your progress, I vouch,
When you ride through the bush in a kangaroo's pouch.
Oh! where is a friend so strong and true
As a dear big, bounding kangaroo?
"Away and away!"
You will certainly say,
"To the end of the furthest blue--
To the verge of the sky,
And the far hills high,
O take me with thee, kangaroo!
We will seek for the end,
Where the broad plains tend,
E'en as far as the evening star.
Why, the end of the world we can reach, I vouch,
Dear kangaroo, with me in your pouch."
Oh! where is a friend so strong and true
As a dear big, bounding kangaroo?