about with frightened eyes, as though dreading some new danger.

Keesa spent very little time in the pouch now, for he was nearly eight
months old. After a while he did not care to stay in it at all, but he
often went to it for a little drink. He was very much surprised one
day, when he went to get that drink, to find another little head in
the pouch, and another tiny, soft body nestled in the very place where
he had so often nestled himself.

Keesa was a handsome kangaroo, somewhat lighter in color than his
mother, swift and agile, healthy and strong, with long, well marked
hind legs, a straight, strong tail, that acted as a sort of stool
whenever he wanted to sit down, and nimble little forepaws on which he
rested occasionally when he wanted to feed; at other times they hung
down as his mother's had done the first time he had made her
acquaintance.

There was one sad day when Keesa and his mother, with some kangaroo
friends with whom they had become acquainted, were chased by men on
horses. But the horses were not particularly good ones, and with their
long, swift leaps the kangaroos got safely away.

All, alas! but Keesa's mother. She, like all of her tribe, was
addicted to a habit of looking backward, still, she would have got
safely away now, if, while running at her swiftest speed, she had not
looked behind her to see how close the hunters were. As it was she
leaped violently against a tree stump and killed herself.

Keesa had been very fond of his mother, and her death was a great
grief to him, but he dared not stay, and so leaped on and on.