Kangaroo, after a short sigh, continued her way.

As they neared the bottom of the gully the Kangaroo became extremely
cautious. She no longer hopped in the open, but made her way with little
leaps through the thick scrub. She peeped out carefully before each
movement. Her long soft ears kept moving to catch every sound, and her
black sensitive little nose was constantly lifted, sniffing the air.
Every now and then she gave little backward starts, as if she were going
to retreat by the way she had come, and Dot, with her face pressed against
the Kangaroo's soft furry coat, could hear her heart beating so fast that
she knew she was very frightened.

They were not alone. Dot could hear whispers from unseen little creatures
everywhere in the scrub, and from birds in the trees. High up in the
branches were numbers of pigeons--sweet little Bronze-Wings; and above all
the other sounds she could hear their plaintive voices crying, "We're so
frightened! we're so frightened! so thirsty and so frightened! so thirsty
and so frightened!"

"Why don't they drink at the waterhole?" whispered Dot.

"Because they're frightened," was the answer.

"Frightened of what?" asked Dot.

"Humans!" said the Kangaroo, in frightened tones; and as she spoke she
reared up upon her long legs and tail, so that she stood at least six feet
high, and peeped over the bushes; her nose working all round, and her ears
wagging.