A little further on we searched again and found another. Now it was my turn. I took steady aim at the black object between me and the moon, and fired. Looking through the smoke, I saw Joey hanging on to the branch by his tail; and in half a minute more he dropped to the ground. I found that this was one of the ring-tailed species, the top of the tail being bare for about two inches, and formed like a white ring. 'Possums of this sort use their tails for climbing, like the spider-monkey of Africa. I found I could carry my ring-tailer hanging on to my finger, even after he was quite dead.
The next 'possum fell wounded from the tree, and took to his heels, with the little dogs after him; and they settled him after a short fight. Sometimes the 'possum, after being hit, will cling a long time to the tree by his tail, with his body hanging down. Then the best and lightest climber goes up to shake him down, and he soon drops among the dogs, which are all excitement and ready to fall upon him. Occasionally he will give them a good run, and then the object is to prevent him getting up another tree.
Proceeding on our search, we found ourselves on some low swampy ground, where there were said to be abundance of 'possums. But I had no sooner entered the swamp than I was covered with musquitoes of the most ravenous character. They rose from the ground in thousands, and fastened on my "new chum" skin, from which the odour of the lime-juice had not yet departed;[10] and in a few minutes I was literally in torment, and in full retreat out of the swamp. Not even the prospect of a full bag of 'possums would tempt me again in that direction.
In all, we got seven 'possums, which is considered a very small bag. There is a practised sportsman in the town who goes out with a well-trained dog, accompanied by a horse and cart; and he is disappointed if he does not bring home quite a cart-load of fur.
When we had got done with our sport, and resolved on wending our way homewards, I had not the faintest idea where we were, or of the direction in which we were to proceed. Of course, near the town there are plenty of tracks, but here there were none; and there is such a complete sameness in the bush that I wondered that even my experienced friend should be able to guide us back. But he had no difficulty in finding the way, and we were soon tramping steadily along under the bright moonlight, the straggling gum-trees looking more gaunt and unshapely than usual,—the dry twigs crackling under our feet; and we reached the township long after midnight.
On another occasion I accompanied the Maryborough doctor into the bush to shoot wattle birds for a pie; but we did not succeed in getting a pieful. I have an idea that the gay-coloured dress of a young lady who accompanied us frightened the birds away. There were plenty of birds about, but very few of the sort we wanted—a bird as large as a pigeon, plump and tender to eat. The doctor drove us in and out among the trees, and had once nearly turned us all perforce out of the buggy, having got his wheels locked in the stump of a tree.
The speckled honey-suckers, yellow and black, chirped and gabbled up among the trees. The leather-heads, with their bare neck and ruffle of white feathers, almost like so many vultures in miniature, gave out their loud and sudden croak; then lazily flapped their wings and flew away to the next tree. Suddenly there is heard the single cry of the bell-bird, just like the ringing of a glass bell; while far off in the bush you could hear the note of the Australian magpie or piping-crow, not unlike that of a silver flute, clear, soft, and musical. The piping-crow is, indeed, a clever bird, imitating with wonderful accuracy the cries of other birds; and when tamed it is exceedingly amusing, readily learning to whistle tunes, which it does extremely well.
Another day, I went out shooting with the Presbyterian minister, an enthusiastic taxidermist, now occupied in making a very nice collection of Australian birds. We had a gay time of it in the bush that day. There were plenty of grey and black mina-birds, or "miners," as they are called here, chattering away in the trees in groups of four or five. They are a species of grakle, and are lively and intelligent birds, some of them possessing a power of imitating human speech equal to any of the parrot tribe. They are very peculiar looking, grey in the body, with a black dab on the head, and a large bright yellow wattle just behind the eye. We pass the "miners" unmolested, for the minister tells me they are "no good" if you want eating, whilst as specimens they are too common.
Then there are the tiny grey wrens, sitting about in scores,—so small that an English wren looks monstrous beside them. Across the sunlight, and away over a hollow, there flies a flock of green and yellow paroquets, screaming as they fly. The brilliant colours of their wings flash and glitter as they come from under the shadow of the trees. Now we stalk a solitary piping-crow from tree to tree; but no sooner do you get near enough to take a pot shot at him than he pipes his note, and is off. The only way of getting at him is to proceed cautiously from bush to bush; but even then, so shy a bird is he, that it is very difficult to bag him.
There is a flock of great white sulphur-crested cockatoos clustered up in a high tree. Can we get a shot? They seem to anticipate our design, for on the moment they rise and wheel overhead with elevated crests, uttering their shrill hoarse cries. These are the fellows that occasion our farmers so much trouble by eating the freshly-sown grain.