one of the most interesting corners of the wild in all
Australia. For example--

When Finn and Warrigal tired of their play on the flat ledge
outside their den, the moon had set, and in the eastern sky there
was visible the first grey hint of coming dawn. In that strange,
ghostly light, which gave a certain cloak of mystery even to such
common objects as tree-stumps and boulders of rock, Finn saw two
unfamiliar figures emerge from the scrub below the spur next that
of Warrigal's den, and begin slowly to climb toward Mount
Desolation itself. There was a deep, steep-sided gully between Finn
and these strange figures, but even at that distance the Wolfhound
was conscious of a strong sense of hostility toward the creatures
he watched. Their scent had not reached him, because the spur they
climbed was to leeward, yet his hackles rose as he gazed at the
ghostly figures, whose shapes loomed huge and threatening against
the violet-grey sky-line. The Wolfhound and his mate were just
about to enter their den, and Finn touched Warrigal with his
muzzle, "pointing" meaningly at the strangers. Warrigal looked, and
though her shoulder hairs did not rise at all, her lips curled
backward a little from white fangs as she indicated that these
figures were perfectly well known to her.

The foremost of them was of great length and bulk, low to the
ground, and a savage in every line of his massive frame. His tail,
carried without any curve in it, was smooth and tapering, like a
rat's tail; his chest was of immense depth, and his truncated
muzzle was carried high, jaws slightly parted, long, yellow tusks
exposed. In general outline he was not unlike a hyaena, but with
more of strength and fleetness in his general make-up, more,
perhaps, of the suggestion of a great wolf, with an unusually
savage-looking head, and an abnormally massive shoulder. From spine
to flank, on either side, the strange creature was striped like a
zebra, the ground colour of his coat being a light yellowish grey
and the stripes black.

This was old Tasman, the Zebra Wolf, who had been turned loose in
that countryside six years before with a mate of his species, who
had died during the first year of their life in the Tinnaburra.
Behind Tasman, burdened with the weight of a fat wallaby which he
dragged over one shoulder, marched Lupus, his son, now almost four
years old and the acknowledged master of Mount Desolation. Lupus
had none of his sire's stripes, and his ta