472 WILD ANIMALS. 



to be a good-sized animal, it will often run into its mother's pouch 

 for shelter, or protection from a supposed danger. It is a very 

 funny sight to see an old female kangaroo sitting up and a little 

 face peering out of the pouch, looking around to see if it would 

 be safe to venture forth, apparently being very well assured of 

 this before it does so. This happened when the photograph was 

 being taken for the illustration of this chapter. The young and 

 well-grown animal was sitting up demurely alongside its mother 

 watching the proceedings, but evidently not liking some part of 

 the performance, it hopped into the pouch, and after turning round 

 so that it could see what subsequently took place, was photo- 

 graphed in that position. 



When the female kangaroo is pursued, she is said to take the 

 little animal with her fore-paws from the pouch, and to throw it 

 away, so as to lighten her own weight, and facilitate her escape. 

 This act was supposed to be indicative of a want of that maternal 

 affection which most other animals exhibit by defending their 

 offspring to the last, but it is now stated that if she makes good 

 her escape, she returns, seeks out and rescues the young one; the act 

 being one instinct teaches her is necessary for their mutual safety. 



The kangaroo feeds entirely on vegetable substances, such as 

 the herbage and the bushes common in the country it inhabits. 

 Its teeth are well adapted for the purpose of cropping and 

 chewing this kind of diet, and it is provided with plenty of them, 

 for it has twenty-eight teeth in all, being only four less than 

 the number given to human beings. 



Kangaroos are gregarious, and are generally to be seen in herds 

 of thirty or forty, with one animal stationed some distance from 

 the rest, apparently to give warning of approaching danger. 



" All the kangaroo family," remarks Mr. Nicols, " have a habit 

 similar to that of the rabbit, of striking a sharp blow upon the 

 ground with the hind-feet as a signal of alarm, or perhaps as a call 

 simply, for they have no means of vocal expression. I have never 

 heard any sound uttered by them even in their death-agonies, except 

 on a single occasion, when a badly wounded wallaby, upon being 

 handled, emitted a noise like the growling of a small terrier, and 

 bit me sharply in the leg, tearing my trousers — the only instance 



