nt wallaby--hunt ole man kangaroo."

He grinned, and holding his hands before him, began to leap along the
track in a wonderfully clever imitation of that singular animal last
named, with the result that the horses snorted, and the bullocks set up
their tails, and increased their pace.

"Be quiet!" cried Norman, whose eyes ran tears with laughter. "Yes, you
are right, Tim. He is a rum one."

"I meant it seems rum to be walking along here with a real black fellow,
and only the other day at Harrow."

"Black fellow?" cried their companion. "Hi! black fellow."

He threw himself into an attitude that would have delighted a sculptor,
holding back his head, raising his spear till it was horizontal, and
then pretending to throw it; after which he handed it quickly to Norman,
and snatched a short knobbed stick from where it was stuck through the
back of the piece of kangaroo skin he wore.

With this in his hand he rushed forward, and went through the pantomime
of a fierce fight with an enemy, whom he seemed to chase and then caught
and killed by repeated blows with the nulla-nulla he held in his hand,
finishing off by taking a run and hurling it at another retreating
enemy, the club flying through the air with such accuracy that he hit
one of the horses by the tail, sending it off at a gallop.

"Norman! Rifle!" cried the captain from far behind; "don't let that
fellow frighten those horses."

"I--I--can't help it, father," cried the boy, who was roaring with
laughter.

"Tink Shanter funny?" cried the black; and he gave vent to the
wallah-wallah noise again.

"Yes, you're a rum beggar," said Rifle, who looked upon him as if he
were a big black child.

"Yes; Shanter rum beggar," said the black, with a satisfied smile, as if
pleased with the new title; but he turned round fiercely directly after,
having in his way grasped the meaning of the words but incorrectly.

"No, no," he said eagerly; "Shanter no rum beggar. No drunkum rum.
Bah! ugh! Bad, bad, bad!"

He went through an excited pantomime expressive of horror and disgust,
and shook his head furiously. "Shanter no rum beggar."

"I meant funny," said Rifle.

"Eh? Funny? Yes, lot o' fun."

"You make me laugh," continued Rifle.

"Eh? make um laugh? No make black fellow laugh. Break um head dreffle,
dreffle. No like black fellow."

In due time they were close up to the hotel, where, the boys having
taken down the rails, the new purchases made no sc