"Horrible," said Smith. "On my soul, Baker, Mrs. Mandeville can spin a yarn. I'm not surprised at her caring nothing about the ordinary open-air black-fellow after that. But, then, these were white, too."
And he pondered over all the problems this journey presented for solution. What did we know yet about all the world's secrets? If we were told anything out of the way, we smiled; and those who exercised their little faculties in little books sat on the judgment-seat.
But neither Smith nor the Baker had overmuch thought to spare for quiet speculation. For now their stock of burned kangaroo was almost done for.
"How are we going to live?" asked Smith.
"We might go up the bank, and lay for a kangaroo," said the Baker.
"Lay! How long?" asked Smith. "Kitty, how are we to get more to eat?"
"I can get grubs," said Kitty, and when she saw the men shake their heads, she suggested she might find a 'possum.
"You can try later," said Smith.
And that night she caught a 'possum, which was coiled up most comfortably in a hole in a rotten stump. She banged it on the ground, and killed it, and they cooked their dinner.
"I think," said Smith, as they smoked the Baker's pipe in turns, "that we are coming to a change in this infernal scenery."