"Dear me!" said the Koala. "They're all new to one. Is it far? I should
like to see the trees they grow on. Please show me the way."

"But I can't," said Dot; "they don't grow on trees, and I don't know my
way home. It's lost, you see."

"I don't see," said the native Bear. "I never can see far at night, and
not at all in daylight. That is why I came here. I saw your fur shining
in the moonlight, and I couldn't make out what it was, so I came to see.
If there is anything new to be seen, I must get a near view of it.
I don't feel happy if I don't know all about it. Aren't you cold?"

"Yes, I am, a little, since my Kangaroo left me," Dot said.

"Now you make my head feel empty again," said the Koala, plaintively.
"What has a Kangaroo got to do with your feeling cold? What have you done
with your fur?"

"I never had any," said Dot, "only these curls," and she touched her
little head.

"Then you ought to be black," argued the Koala. "You're not the right
colour. Only blacks have no fur, but what they steal from the proper
owners. Do you steal fur?" it asked in an anxious voice.

"How do they steal fur?" asked Dot.

The Koala looked very miserable, and spoke with horror. "They kill us
with spears, and tear off our skins and wear them, because their own skins