"I'm so glad you have come back!" she exclaimed.
The Kangaroo was a little breathless and excited. "We are not in
danger at present," she said, "but one never knows when one will be, so
we must move; and that will be more dangerous than staying where we
are."
"Then let us stay," said Dot.
"That won't do," replied the Kangaroo, "This is the conclusion I have
jumped to. If we stay here, the blacks might come this way and their
dingo dogs hunt us to death. To get to a safe place we must pass their
camp. That is a little risky, but we must go that way. We can do this
easily if the dogs don't get scent of us, as all the blacks are
prancing about and making a noise, having a kind of game in fact, and
they are so amused that we ought to get past quite safely. I've done
it many times before at night."
Dot looked round to say good-bye to the Koala, but the little animal
had heard the Kangaroo speak of blacks, and that word suggested to its
empty little head that it must keep its skin whole, so, without waiting
to be polite to Dot, it had sneaked up its gum tree and was well out of
sight.
Without wasting time, Dot settled in the Kangaroo's pouch, and they
started upon their perilous way.
For some distance the Kangaroo hopped along boldly, with an occasional
warning to Dot to shut her eyes as they plunged through the bushes; but
after crossing a watercourse, and climbing a stiff hill, she whispered
that they must both keep quite silent, and told Dot to listen as she
stopped for a moment.
Dot could hear to their right a murmuring of voices, and a steady
beating sound.
"Their camp is over there," said the Kangaroo, "that is the sound of
their game."
"Can't we go some other way?" asked Dot. "No," answered the Kangaroo,
"because past that place we can reach some very wild country where it
would be hard for them to pursue us. We shall have to pass quite close
to their playground." So in perfect silence they went on.
The Kangaroo seemed to Dot to approach the whereabouts of the black
fellows as cautiously as when they had visited the water-hole the first
night. Dot's little heart beat fast as the sound of the blacks'
corroboree became clearer and clearer, and they neared the scene of the
dance. Soon she could hear the stamping of feet, the beating of
weapons together, and the wild chanting; and sometimes there were the
whimperings of dogs, and the cry of children at the camp a little
distance from the corroboree ground.
The Kangaroo showed no signs of fear at the increasing noise of the
blacks, but every sound of a dog caused it to stop and twist about its
big ears and sensitive nose, as it sniffed and listened.
Soon Dot could see a great red glare of firelight through the trees
ahead of their track, and she knew that in that place the tribe of
black men were having a festive dance.
If they had gone on their way it is possible that they would have
slipped past the blacks without danger. But although the Kangaroo is
as timid an animal as any in the bush, it is also very curious, and
Dot's Kangaroo wished to peep at the corroboree. She whispered to Dot
that it would be nice for a little Human to see some other Humans after
being so long amongst bush creatures, and said, also, that there would
be no great danger in hopping to a rock that would command a view of
the open ground where the corroboree was being held. Of course Dot
thought this would be great fun, so the Kangaroo took her to the rock,
where they peeped through the trees and saw before them the weird
scene and dance.
Dot nearly screamed with fright at the sight. She had thought she
would see a few black folk, not a crowd of such terrible people as she
beheld. They did not look like human beings at all, but like dreadful
demons, they were so wicked and ugly in appearance. The men who were
dancing were without clothes, but their black bodies were painted with
red and white stripes, and bits of down and feathers were stuck on
their skin. Some had only white stripes over the places where their
bones were, which made them look like skeletons flitting before the
fire, or in and out of the surrounding darkness. The dancing men were
divided from the rest of the tribe by a row of fires, which, burning
brightly, lit the horrid scene with a lurid red light. The firelight
seemed to make the ferocious faces of the dancers still more hideous.
The tribe people were squatting in rows on the ground, beating
boomerangs and spears together, or striking bags of skin with sticks,
to make an accompaniment to the wailing song they sang. Sometimes the
women would cease beating the skin bags, to clap their hands and strike
their sides, yelling the words of the corroboree song as the painted
figures, like fiends and skeletons, danced before the row of fires.
It was a terrifying sight to Dot. "Oh, Kangaroo!" she whispered, "they
are dreadful, horrid creatures."
"They're just Humans," replied the Kangaroo, indulgently.
"But white Humans are not like that," said Dot.
"All Humans are the same underneath, they all kill Kangaroos," said the
Kangaroo. "Look there! They are playing at killing us in their dance."
Dot looked once more at the hideous figures as they left the fire and
behaved like actors in a play. One of the black fellows had come from
a little bower of trees, and wore a few skins so arranged as to make
him look as much like a Kangaroo as possible, whilst he worked a stick
which he pretended was a Kangaroo's tail, and hopped about. The other
painted savages were creeping in and out of the bushes with their
spears and boomerangs as if they were hunting, and the dressed-up
Kangaroo made believe not to see them, but stooped down, nibbling grass.
"What an idea of a Kangaroo!" sniffed Dot's friend, "why, a real
Kangaroo would have smelt or heard those Humans, and have bounded away
far out of sight by now."
"But it's all sham," said Dot; "the black man couldn't be a real
Kangaroo."
"Then it just shows how stupid Humans are to try and be one," said her
friend. Humans think themselves so clever, she continued, "but just
see what bad Kangaroos they make--such a simple thing to do, too! But
their legs bend the wrong way for jumping, and that stick isn't any
good for a tail, and it has to be worked with those big, clumsy arms.
Just see, too, how those skins fit! Why it's enough to make a
Kangaroo's sides split with laughter to see such foolery!" Dot's
friend peeped at the black's acting with the contempt to be expected of
a real Kangaroo, who saw human beings pretending to be one of those
noble animals. Dot thought the Kangaroo had never looked so grand
before. She was so tall, so big, and yet so graceful: a really
beautiful creature.
"Well, that's over!" remarked the Kangaroo, as one of the blacks
pretended to spear the dressed-up black fellow, and all the rest began
to dance around, whilst the sham Kangaroo made believe to be dead.
"Well, I forgive their killing such a silly creature! There wasn't a
jump in it."
After more dancing to the singing and noise of the on-lookers, a black
fellow came from the little bower in the dim back-ground, with a
battered straw hat on, and a few rags tied round his neck and wrist, in
imitation of a collar and cuffs. The fellow tried to act the part of a
white man, although he had no more clothes on than the old hat and
rags. But, after a great deal of dancing, he strutted about, pulled up
the rag collar, made a great fuss with his rag cuffs, and kept taking
off his old straw hat to the other black fellows, and to the rest of
the tribe, who kept up the noise on the other side of the fires.
"Now this is better!" said the Kangaroo, with a smile. "It's very
silly, but Willy Wagtail says that is just the way Humans go on in the
town. Black Humans can act being white Humans, but they are no good as
Kangaroos."
Dot thought that if men behaved like that in towns it must be very
strange. She had not seen any like the acting black fellow at her
cottage home. But she did not say anything, for it was quite clear in
her little mind that black fellows, Kangaroos, and willy wagtails had a
very poor opinion of white people. She felt that they must all be
wrong; but, all the same, she sometimes wished she could be a noble
Kangaroo, and not a despised human being.
"I wish I were not a white little girl," she whispered to the Kangaroo.
The gentle animal patted her kindly with her delicate black hands.
"You are as nice now as my baby Kangaroo," she said sadly, "but you
will have to grow into a real white Human. For some reason there have
to be all sorts of creatures on the earth. There are hawks, snakes,
dingoes and humans, and no one can tell for what good they exist. They
must have dropped on to this world by mistake for another, where there
could only have been themselves. After all," said the kind animal, "It
wouldn't do for every one to be a Kangaroo, for I doubt if there would
be enough grass; but you may become an improved Human."
"How could I be that?" asked Dot, eagerly.
"Never wear kangaroo leather boots--never use kangaroo skin rugs,
and"--here it hesitated a little, as though the subject were a most
unpleasant one to mention.
"Never do what?" enquired Dot, anxious to know all that she should do,
so as to be improved.
"Never, never eat Kangaroo-tail soup!" said the Kangaroo, solemnly.
"I never will," said Dot, earnestly, "I will be an improved Human."
This conversation had been so serious to both Dot and the Kangaroo,
that they had quite forgotten the perilousness of their position.
Perhaps this was because the Kangaroo cannot think, but it quickly
jumped to the conclusion that they were in danger.
Whilst they had been peeping at the corroborees, and talking, the dingo
dogs that had been prowling around the camp, had caught scent of the
Kangaroo; and, following the trail, had set up an angry snapping and
howling.
The instant this sound was heard by the Kangaroo, she made an immense
bound, and as she seemed to fly through the bush, Dot could hear the
sounds of the corroboree give place to a noise of shouting and
disorder: the dingo dogs and the Blacks were all in pursuit, and Dot's
Kangaroo, with little Dot in her pouch, was leaping and bounding at a
terrific pace to save both their lives!