152 
ALMOST HUMAN 
“I could nearly as well kill a man as that mother,” he said, and the 
sportsman agreed, while she bounded off to safety. 
There was a hardy little bushman among the beaters who drove 
the animals down. He was mounted on a nuggety little pony, and was 
suddenly possessed of the whim to capture a full grown male kangaroo 
alive and present him to Mr. Wilkie for the Zoo. He endeavored to get 
alongside the bounding creature, and with the butt of his stockwhip hit 
it on the forehead and bowl it over. A very light knock would suffice 
to throw it down, stunned, and then its capture would be a matter of 
seconds. He had the lash of his whip coiled about his wrist. The 
handle was about eighteen inches long, and its end was very thick, and 
was loaded. He gave a fine exhibition of reckless riding. As the 
kangaroo bounded, he rode, over trees and great fallen logs and high 
stumps, up hills, down gullies, and through the underbrush as though it 
were non-existent. It was thought that the end of the chase had come, 
victoriously for the rider, when a high four-barred fence stopped their 
mad career — but the kangaroo took it with space to clear, and the pony 
jibbed badly! The bushman nearly broke his own neck in his furious 
attempts to make his little mount follow the escapee, but it was of no 
use, and so he came back, crestfallen and disgusted. 
“The beggar beat me at the fence,” was all he would say about his 
disappointment. 
The law is very strict about the disposal of kangaroo skins. An 
inspector is always present at these drives, and he counts every fallen 
beast. A bushman is employed to skin the victims, and he salts and 
rolls up the hides and sends them off without delay to the Fisheries and 
Game department. The tails, however, are usually missing from the 
hides. They are not tanned into leather — they make delicious soup, 
and therefore like the famous goose that appeared at table with one 
leg, it would need a very loud “shoo!” to join tail and pelt at head- 
quarters. 
PRACTICAL JOKERS. 
Pet kangaroos, Mr. Wilkie considers, can be trusted to be civil 
until they are about five years old. They are very playful when young, 
and have a fondness for practical joking. After that age, however, 
they are very uncertain plajThings, and no one is absolutely safe with 
them for the remaining ten or twelve years of their history. At the 
Zoo not long ago were two half-grown kangaroos who were noted for 
their love of coming stealthily up behind the keepers and giving them a 
sudden kick. This, though done from sheer love of mischief and with- 
