ot struck the
side of the kangaroo's head like a couple of balls and crushed it in.

Drenched as they were, the three boys got Shanter on to the grass, where
he lay perfectly motionless, and a cold chill shot through all, as they
felt that their efforts had been in vain, and that a famous slayer of
kangaroos had met his end from one of the race. The sun was just on the
horizon now, and the water looked red as blood, and not wholly from the
sunset rays.

"Shanter, Shanter, old fellow, can't you speak?" cried Norman, as he
knelt beside the black.

Just then there was a tremendous struggle in the water, which ceased as
suddenly as it had begun.

"Man, don't say he's dead!" whispered Tim, in awe-stricken tones.

Norman made no reply, and Rifle bent softly over the inanimate black
figure before him, and laid a hand upon the sufferer's breast.

"You were too late, Tim; too late," sighed Rifle. "I'd heard those
things would drown people, but I didn't believe it till now. Oh, poor
old Shanter! You were very black, but you were a good fellow to us
all."

"And we ought to have saved you," groaned Norman.

"I wish we had never come," sighed Tim, as he bent lower. "Can't we do
anything? Give him some water?"

"Water!" cried Norman, with a mocking laugh. "He's had enough of that."

"Brandy?" said Rifle. "There is some in a flask. Father said, take it
in case any one is ill."

"Get it," said Norman, laconically, and his brother ran to where, not
fifty yards away, the saddle-bags were lying just as they had been left
early that morning.

The brandy was right at the bottom, but it was found at last, and Rifle
hurried with it to the black's side.

Norman took the flask, unscrewed the top, drew off the cup from the
bottom, and held it on one side to pour out a small quantity, but as he
held it more and more over not a drop came. The top was ill-fitting,
and all had slowly leaked away.

The lad threw the flask aside, and knowing nothing in those days of the
valuable hints for preserving life in cases of apparent drowning, they
knelt there, with one supporting the poor fellow's head, the others
holding his hands, thinking bitterly of the sad end to their trip;
while, in spite of his efforts to keep it down, the selfish thought
would come into Norman's breast--How shall we be able to find our way
back without poor Shanter?

The sun had sunk; the water looked dark and black now. Night was coming
on, and a faint