“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”
The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”
“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”
“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,” [[294]]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”
“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from her thraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,— [[295]]
“Hello! Who are you?”
The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”
“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.
“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.
“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”