"Enough bites, yes; but not enough eggs," said Yillin, laughing as well. "The eggs are worth the pain." She thrust her digging-stick into a hillock so energetically that she scattered earth and eggs and ants in all directions, and one ant landed on Nullor's nose and bit it severely—whereat Nullor uttered a startled yell of pain, and the daughters of Wonkawala laughed very much.
"Who is brave now?" cried little Peeka.
Nullor rubbed her nose with a lump of wet earth, which, as she was black, did not have such a curious effect as it would have had on you.
"I was taken by surprise," she said, somewhat shamefacedly. "And indeed, my nose is not used to such treatment, for I do not usually poke it into ants' nests!"
They ate all the eggs, and rubbed their bites with chewed leaves, which soon took away the stings; and then they danced away together. After a time, Yillin saw an eagle flying low, carrying something in its talons. She flung a boomerang at it, and so well did she aim that she broke its neck, and the great bird came fluttering down. It fell into a pool of water and Yillin jumped in to rescue its prey, for she could see that it was alive. It turned out to be a half-grown dingo, a fine young dog, which was too bewildered, between flying and drowning, to make any objection to being captured. Yillin secured it with a string which she plaited of her own hair and as much of Peeka's as Peeka was willing to part with, and fed it with bits of wallaby; and the dog soon became friendly and licked her hand.
"He is a lovely dog," she said, "and I will always keep him. I will call him Dulderana."
"I think he will be rather a nuisance," said Nullor. "Anyway, he will soon leave you and go back into the Bush."
"I do not think he will," Yillin said.
"Well, you cannot teach him to dance or sing," said Nullor, laughing, "so he will have to run behind us."
"Of course he will; and he will be very useful in hunting," said Yillin. "We should not have lost that 'possum yesterday if we had had a dog."