A Kangaroo Hunt 



I o cartridges ; and of these we expected 

 to make good use. A pleasant drive of 

 thirty miles over the yellow plains, dotted 

 here and there with graceful shioke and 

 contorted honeysuckle trees, landed us 

 at the "selection" of one Allan Wilkin- 

 son, who was to be our host and guide. 

 He was a long-haired, gentle-eyed native 

 of fifty, who had been born and bred up- 

 on the mountain, and was gifted with the 

 far sight and the slow, drawling speech 

 of a typical Western trapper of the old 

 days. Here we took horses and rode six 

 miles farther into the mountains, drawing 

 up eventually at a rough saw-mill which 

 was owned by our gentle-mannered host. 

 We made this our headquarters; and for 

 several days we clambered about the hills 

 under Wilkinson's guidance, at times los- 

 ing ourselves for hours in the cloud-banks 

 which hung perpetually about the moun- 

 tain's flank, or anon attaining some lofty 

 summit and peering through the gray 

 vistas of eucalyptus, and out over the 

 sunny plains to golden Ballarat or pastoral 

 Evoca. But of game we saw none, not 

 even the shake of a bunny's tail. The 

 cockatoos, the wallaby, and the mountain 

 goats seemed all to have deserted these 

 usual feeding-grounds ; and after three 



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