"What an idea of a Kangaroo!" sniffed Dot's friend, "why, a real Kangaroo would have smelt or heard those Humans, and have bounded away far out of sight by now."
"But it's all sham," said Dot; "the black man couldn't be a real Kangaroo."
"Then it just shows how stupid Humans are to try and be one," said her friend. Humans think themselves so clever, she continued, "but just see what bad Kangaroos they make—such a simple thing to do, too! But their legs bend the wrong way for jumping, and that stick isn't any good for a tail, and it has to be worked with those big, clumsy arms. Just see, too, how those skins fit! Why it's enough to make a Kangaroo's sides split with laughter to see such foolery!" Dot's friend peeped at the black's acting with the contempt to be expected of a real Kangaroo, who saw human beings pretending to be one of those noble animals. Dot thought the Kangaroo had never looked so grand before. She was so tall, so big, and yet so graceful: a really beautiful creature.
"Well, that's over!" remarked the Kangaroo, as one of the blacks pretended to spear the dressed-up black fellow, and all the rest began to dance around, whilst the sham Kangaroo made believe to be dead. "Well, I forgive their killing such a silly creature! There wasn't a jump in it."
After more dancing to the singing and noise of the on-lookers, a black fellow came from the little bower in the dim back-ground, with a battered straw hat on, and a few rags tied round his neck and wrist, in imitation of a collar and cuffs. The fellow tried to act the part of a white man, although he had no more clothes on than the old hat and rags. But, after a great deal of dancing, he strutted about, pulled up the rag collar, made a great fuss with his rag cuffs, and kept taking off his old straw hat to the other black fellows, and to the rest of the tribe, who kept up the noise on the other side of the fires.
"Now this is better!" said the Kangaroo, with a smile. "It's very silly, but Willy Wagtail says that is just the way Humans go on in the town. Black Humans can act being white Humans, but they are no good as Kangaroos."
Dot thought that if men behaved like that in towns it must be very strange. She had not seen any like the acting black fellow at her cottage home. But she did not say anything, for it was quite clear in her little mind that black fellows, Kangaroos, and willy wagtails had a very poor opinion of white people. She felt that they must all be wrong; but, all the same, she sometimes wished she could be a noble Kangaroo, and not a despised human being.
"I wish I were not a white little girl," she whispered to the Kangaroo.
The gentle animal patted her kindly with her delicate black hands.
"You are as nice now as my baby Kangaroo," she said sadly, "but you will have to grow into a real white Human. For some reason there have to be all sorts of creatures on the earth. There are hawks, snakes, dingoes and humans, and no one can tell for what good they exist. They must have dropped on to this world by mistake for another, where there could only have been themselves. After all," said the kind animal, "It wouldn't do for every one to be a Kangaroo, for I doubt if there would be enough grass; but you may become an improved Human."