On Our Selection

Hunt from S

e, I remember, we thought it would never come. We longed restles

ed the kangaroo every Sunday, but "on their own," and always on foot, which had its fatigues. This was to be a raid EN MASSE and on horseback. The whole country-side was to assemble

One pounced on a fowl; another lamed the pig; a trio put the cat up a peach-tree; one with a thirst mounted the water-

y anything to eat. Dad did n't believe in too much feeding. He had had wide experience in dogs and coursing "at home" on

was arrayed in winkers with green-hide reins, and an old saddle with only one flap. He was holding an earnest argument with Joe...Still the crowd waited. Still Dad and Joe argued the

e others twisted a stick in the wires, and proceeded carefully to lead their horses over. When it came to Farmer's turn he hesitated. Dad coaxed him. Slowly he put one leg across, as if feeling his way, and paused again. Joe was on his back behind the saddle. Dad tugged hard at the winkers.

ained and hung back. Once more he let him have it. Then-off flew the winkers, and over went Dad and Anderson and old Brown, and down rolled Joe and Farmer on the other side of the fence. The others leant against their horses and laughed the laugh of the

ent. A mob? It was a swarm! Away they hopped. Off scrambled the dogs, and of

n unneighbourly squatter, darted up from the shade of a tree right in the way of Maloney's Brindle, who was leading. Brindle always preferred mutton to marsupial, so he let the latter slide and secured the ewe. The death-scene was most imposing. The ground around was strewn with small tufts of white wool. There was a complete circle of eager, wriggling dogs-all jammed together, heads down, and t

raised himself to his full height on his toes and tail he looked formidable-a grand and majestic demon of the bush. The slut made no attempt to tackle him; she stood off with her tongue out. Several small dogs belonging to Anderson barked energetically at him, even venturing occasionally to run behind and bite his tail. But, further than grabbing them in his arms and embracing them, he took no notice. There he towered, his head back and chest well out, awaiting the horse

. He lost faith in Dad, and, half jumping, half falling, he landed on the ground, and set out speedily for a tree. Dad lost the stick, and in attempting to brain the brute with his fist he overbalanced and fell out of the saddle. He struggled to his feet, and clutched his antagonist affectionately by both paws-standing well away. Backwards and forwards and round and round they moved. "Use your knife!" Anderson called out, getting further away him

pt slipping-slipping. For the fiftieth time and more he glanced eagerly over his shoulder for some haven of safety. None was near. And then-oh, horror!-down THEY slid calmly and noiselessly. Poor Dad! He was at a disadvantage; his leg work was hampered. He was hobbled. Could he only get free of them altogether! But he could n't-his feet were large. He took a lesson from the foe and jumped-jumped this way and that way, and round about, while large drops of

ned for home, Paddy Maloney was triumphantly seated on the carcase of the fallen enemy, exul