eader that
evening was Warrigal, who had taken note on the previous day of the
exact whereabouts of a big mother kangaroo. She now desired two
things: a good supper and an opportunity of displaying before the
three dingoes the fighting prowess of her lord. Black-tip had had
his lesson, as various open wounds on his body then testified, but
it was as well that his friends should see something of Finn's
might for themselves, apart from the information they had clearly
received. That was how Warrigal thought of it, and she knew a good
deal about mother kangaroos as well as dingoes. She knew, for
instance, that they were more feared by dingoes than the "old men"
of their species, and that, even with the assistance of his two
friends and herself, Black-tip would not have thought of attacking
such prey while there were lesser creatures in plenty to be hunted.

In due course Warrigal winded the mother kangaroo, and conveyed
instant warning to Finn and the others by a sudden checking of her
pace. Silent as wraiths between the shadowy tree-trunks then, Finn
and the four dingoes stalked their prey, describing a considerable
circle in order to approach from good cover. To Warrigal's keen
disappointment, they found as they topped a little scrub-covered
ridge that the mother kangaroo was feeding with a mob of seven,
under the guidance of a big, red old-man. Then she conceived the
bold plan of "cutting out" the mother kangaroo from the mob, and
trusting to Finn to pull her down. This plan she conveyed to her
fellow-hunters by means of that telepathic method of communication
which is as yet little comprehended by men-folk. One quick look and
thrust of her muzzle asked Finn to play his independent part, and
another, flung with apparent carelessness across her right
shoulder, bade the three dingoes follow her in the work of cutting
out.

It was a careful, silent stalk until the hunters were within ten
yards of the quarry, and then with a terrifying yowl of triumph, a
living rope of dingoes--four of them, nose to tail--was flung
between the big mother kangaroo and the rest of the mob. The red
old-man gave one panic-smitten look round his flock, and then they
were off like the wind, in big twenty-foot bounds. But the mother
could not bring herself to leap in their direction by reason of the
yowling streak of snapping dingoes which had flung itself between
them. She sprang off at a tangent and, as she made her seventh or
eighth bound,