Pilla and Inda travelled swiftly through the Bush for the first two days of their journey. They passed through good hunting country, where they were tempted by the sign of much game, but they would not allow themselves to turn aside, greatly as they longed for fresh meat. They carried a little food with them, and were fortunate in finding much boombul, which the white people afterwards called manna—a sweet white substance rather like small pieces of loaf-sugar, with a very delicate flavour. Boombul drops from the leaves and small branches of some kinds of gum-trees, and the blacks loved to eat it, so Pilla and Inda thought themselves very lucky.

They met friendly blacks now and then, as they travelled, and heard many stories of the ferocity of Kuperee. Some of the reports were very terrifying. It was difficult to find out how huge he was, for he seemed to grow in size according to the terror of the men who had seen him: some of whom said he was as large as any gum-tree. But all were agreed as to his fierceness. He devoured men in a single gulp: he struck them down as one might strike a yurkurn, or lizard: his swiftness in pursuit was terrible to see. The man he chased had no chance whatever, unless he managed to reach thick timber, where Kuperee\'s size prevented his taking the gigantic leaps which so quickly ended a chase on open ground. And about all the tales hung the sense of blind fear which the great beast seemed to inspire. No matter how brave a fighting-man might be, the sight of Kuperee seemed to turn his heart to water, making him long only to flee like a frightened child. Their voices shook with terror as they spoke of him.

"It seems to me," said Inda, as they journeyed on, after having talked to some of these hunters, "that our first thought should be for ourselves. All these men have thought themselves very brave, and have gone out to meet Kuperee, never doubting that they would not be afraid: and they have become very afraid indeed. Now you and I are no cowards in ordinary fighting, and we have had no fear of ourselves. But I think we had better make up our minds that we certainly shall become afraid, and decide what to do. I do not wish to lose my senses and run away like a beaten pickaninny."

"That is good sense," said Pilla. "Perhaps if we managed to keep our heads during our first terror it might pass after a time, so that we should again be as men."

"That is my idea," Inda answered. "And if Kuperee did not happen to see us while we were afraid, so much the better for us. I do not believe that fear will be with us always, but still, we are no better than all these other men. I believe we will get an attack of it, and then it will pass off, like an attack of sickness, if we treat it properly."

"Yes," said Pilla, nodding. "But if we run away we shall be afraid for ever—always supposing we are not dead."

"If we run away, the one that Kuperee runs after will certainly be dead," Inda said. "Therefore, let us go very warily, and perhaps we can manage so that he does not see us during our first fear."

"It is a queer thing," Pilla said, laughing, "for hunters to go out making certain of being afraid."

"I think it is a safe thing just now," said Inda shortly. "This hunting is not like other hunting."

So they went on, keeping a very sharp look-out, and having their weapons always ready. The stone axe of Burkamukk was rather troublesome to them, for their hands were encumbered with spears and throwing-sticks, and they were not used to carrying an axe: so, at last, Inda twisted strings of bark and slung it across his shoulders, where it felt much more comfortable. Soon they came upon traces of the great beast they sought. The forest began to be full of his tracks, and the saplings had been pulled about and gnawed by some creature larger than anything they had ever seen. And then, one evening, they heard running feet, and, leaping to one side, spear in hand, they saw half a dozen men, racing through the Bush, blind with terror. One slipped and fell near where they were standing, and rolled almost to their feet. Pilla and Inda drew him into a thicket.

"Is Kuperee after you?" they asked.

The man rolled his eyes upwards.

"He has slain two of us, and is now in pursuit of us all," he panted. "Let me go!" He scrambled to his feet and dashed away.

Pilla and Inda crouched low in the thicket, seeing nothing. But presently they heard a mighty pounding through the trees fifty yards away: and though nothing was visible, the sound of those great leaps was so terrifying in itself that they found themselves trembling. The pounding died away in the direction in which the blacks had gone.

"Ky! what a tail he must have, that makes the earth shake as he goes!" Inda muttered. "Never have I heard anything like it! Art afraid, Pilla?"

"Very much, I believe," said Pilla. "But it will pass, I feel sure. Brother, it seems to me that Kuperee\'s den must be not far off, and it would be safe to try to find it, since he has gone southward for his hunting: and most likely he will return slowly. Let us push on, while we can go quickly."

"That is good talk," Inda answered. "Perhaps we can hide ourselves near his den, and watch him without being seen. I should like to get my terror over in a high tree."

"I, too," said Pilla. "I fancy the attack might pass more quickly. Let us hurry."

They pushed onward as fast as possible. It was not hard to find the way, for the blacks had fled too madly to trouble about leaving tracks, and the marks of their running made a clear path, to native eyes. Soon, too, they came upon Kuperee\'s tracks—great footprints and deep depressions in the earth where his enormous tail had hit the ground at every bound. Then the Bush became more and more beaten down, as though some great animal roamed through it constantly; and at last they found the body of a hunter, struck down from behind as he ran.

"It was no playful tap that killed him," said Pilla, with a shudder. "The other, I suppose, was eaten as Kuperee loves to eat men, in one gulp. See, Inda—is not that where he sleeps?"

They were near a cleared space, where the ground was much trampled. Bones lay here and there, and in the shadow of a dense lightwood tree in the middle the grass showed clearly where a great body had often lain. No kangaroo has any kind of hole, for they love the Bush to sleep in, and Kuperee was evidently like other kangaroos in this. Probably he changed his home often; but this was a good place, ringed about with bushes that made it quiet and hard to find, so that no enemy was likely to come upon him too suddenly; while, from his lair under the lightwood, he could see anything approach.

"Men, or animals, or leaves—it does not seem to matter to him what he eats," said Inda, looking at the lair. "No wonder he grows huge. Pilla, I am very afraid, but I feel I will not always be afraid. Let us climb up into the lightwood tree; he will never see us among its thick leaves. Then he will come home tired, and perhaps we can spear him as he sleeps."

They climbed up into the dense branches, mounting high, and choosing stout limbs to lie on where they could peer down below; and they fixed their spears and other weapons so that they could use them easily. The stone axe of Burkamukk was much in Inda\'s way in climbing, and finally he untied it from his shoulders.

"I do not see how I can use this in the tree," he said. "See, I will strike it into the trunk, so that we can get at it handily if we need it."

He smote it against the trunk, and the wood held it fast. Then he and Pilla took their places, and watched for the coming of Kuperee.

They had not long to wait. Presently came, far off, the sound of great bounds and breaking saplings; not, as they had heard it last, in the fierceness of pursuit, but slowly, as a man may return home after successful hunting. The brothers felt their hearts thumping as they waited. Nearer and nearer came the sound, and soon the bushes parted and a mighty kangaroo hopped into the clearing.

So huge was he, so black and fierce, that they caught at each other in terror. Never had they dreamed of any kangaroo like this. His fur was thick and long, and of a glossy black; his head carried proudly aloft, his great tail like the limb of a tree. And in his gleaming eyes, and on his fierce face, was an expression of cunning and ferocity that, even more than his size, made him unlike any animal the Bush had ever known. Something of mystery and terror seemed to surround him; it was indeed clear that he was Magic. Pilla and Inda trembled so that they feared that the lightwood would shake and reveal them to the monster.

He sat down, out on the clear space, and rubbed his mouth with his forepaws, sniffing at the air so that they fell into a further terror, thinking he had smelt them out. But one blackfellow smells much like another, and Kuperee had recently dealt with three blacks: if he noticed any unusual odour he put it down to his late meal. He felt sleepy and well-fed; he had enjoyed both his run and his meal. Now, he only wanted sleep.

He hopped towards the lightwood, and at his coming Pilla and Inda felt themselves gripped by overmastering fear. Their teeth chattered; their dry tongues seemed to choke them. They clung to their boughs, dreading lest their trembling hold should loosen, bringing them tumbling at his feet. So, gripping with toes and fingers, with sweating cheeks pressed closely to the limbs, with staring eyes that peered downwards, they watched the dreadful beast come.

He came in under the tree and lay down, stretching himself out to sleep; and in a few moments his heavy breathing showed that he had passed quietly into slumber. As they watched, something of their terror left the brothers. Asleep, Kuperee was not so horrible; he looked, indeed, not so unlike any other kangaroo, with his fierce eyes veiled and the strength of his great body relaxed.

"I believe my time of fear is passing," Inda whispered. "He is but a kangaroo, after all."

"Yes, but what a terrible one!" murmured Pilla, as well as his chattering teeth would let him. "Still, we are mighty hunters, and no fools: unless he is really Magic we should be able to subdue him. I am beginning to feel a man again."

"We do not know for certain that he is Magic. Let us believe, then, that he is not, and that will help us," Inda whispered. "Why should we not spear him as he lies?"

"We might easily do it. Let us creep to the lower boughs, where we shall have more room to move our arms. Art afraid any longer, Inda?"

"Not as I was," Inda replied. "At least, not while he sleeps."

"Then let us try to arrange that he shall never wake," Pilla murmured.

Very softly, with infinite caution, they crept down the tree, until they came to the great lower limbs. Here they had space to swing their arms, and they made their weapons ready. Below, the huge kangaroo never stirred. His deep breathing, telling of sound slumber, was music in the ears of the brothers. They nodded a signal to each other as they poised their first spears.

So swiftly did they throw that before Kuperee was aroused from his sleep a shower of throwing-sticks and spears had hurtled through the air. Not one missed; the mark was easy, and the brothers were proved hunters. The weapons sped fast and true. But a terrible thing happened. Each point, as it struck Kuperee\'s fur, became blunt, and, instead of piercing him in fifty places, the weapons fell back from him, spent and useless.

With a groan of fear, the brothers grasped at the branches and swung themselves aloft. Below, Kuperee\'s roar of fury drowned all other sounds. He sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing. He had received no injury, but he had been touched—that in itself was an indignity he had never suffered before. With another earth-shaking roar he looked about for his foes.

To be attacked from the air was a new experience for Kuperee. All his other enemies had come upon him out of the Bush, and it never occurred to him, in his rage, to look upward, where the shaking of the branches would certainly have revealed the terrified Pilla and Inda. Instead, seeing nothing, Kuperee made sure that the trees concealed the attackers. He roared again, dreadfully, and bounded across the clearing. The Bush closed behind him, but the sky rang with the echo of his terrible voice and the thud of the leaps that carried him rapidly away.

Kuperee sleeping and Kuperee awake and angry were two very different beings, and with the first movement of the monster all their fear had come back to Pilla and Inda. As roar succeeded roar they became more and more weak with terror. Their grip on the boughs relaxed with the trembling of their hands, and even as Kuperee bounded away they lost their hold and tumbled bodily out of the tree.

It was not far to the ground, but Pilla happened to fall first, and Inda fell on top of him, and they managed to hurt each other a good deal. They were in that excited and over-wrought state when anything seems an injury, and each lost his temper.

"You did that on purpose!" Pilla said, striking at his brother. "Take that!"

"Would you!" said Inda, between his teeth. "I\'ll teach you to hit me!"

He stooped and picked up one of the throwing-sticks and flung it at his brother. It hit Pilla violently on the nose, and made him furiously angry. He gathered an armful of the fallen spears, and, running back, threw them at Inda so swiftly that there was no time to dodge. They hit him all over his body, and though they had all become blunt, they hurt very badly. The blood was streaming from Pilla\'s nose, and when he had thrown all his spears he stopped to wipe it off with a tuft of grass. The pause gave them time to think, and they stared at each other. Suddenly they burst out laughing.

"What fools we are!" they said.

"Yes, we are indeed fools," said Inda, rubbing his bruises. "Kuperee may be back at any moment, and here we will be found, fighting each other like a couple of stupid boys. I am sorry I hurt you, brother."

"You have certainly done that," said Pilla, caressing his nose gently. "There will be a dint down my nose for ever—the bone is broken, I think. Why don\'t you hit Kuperee as hard as that?"

"I will, if I get the chance," Inda said. "And you yourself are no child when it comes to throwing spears—a good thing for me that they were blunt. Yes, brother, we are the biggest fools in the Bush. Now what are we to do?"

"Save yourself!" screamed Pilla. "Here comes Kuperee!"

The great kangaroo came bounding back through the bushes, and the brothers, wild with terror, flung themselves at the lightwood tree. Up they went, but only just in time. Inda\'s heel was grazed by Kuperee\'s claw as he gained the safety of the lower branches. He climbed up swiftly, and, clinging together, they looked down at their foe.

"He cannot climb!" gasped Pilla.

"No, but he will have the tree down!" cried his brother.

Kuperee was flinging himself against the tree, until it rocked beneath the blows of his great body. Again and again came the dull thud as he drew himself back and came dashing against the trunk. Gradually it yielded, beginning to lean sidewards. Lower and lower it came, and Kuperee, rising high on his hind-legs and tail, clawed upward at Inda.

As the hunter, with a cry of despair, tried to pull himself higher, Pilla, leaning from an upper branch, thrust something into his hand.

"It is the stone axe of our father," he gasped. "Strike with it, brother!"

Inda grasped the handle, and smote downward with all his might. The keen edge of the stone caught Kuperee in the forehead, and sank into his head. He fell back, wrenching the axe from Inda\'s hand. One more terrific roar rent the air—a cry of pain and anger fearful to hear. Then, with a dull groan the monster sank sidewards to the grass. He was dead.

It was long before Pilla and Inda dared to quit the shelter of the leaning tree. They could scarcely believe that their enemy was dead, until they saw the mighty limbs stiffen, and beheld a crow perch, unmolested, on Kuperee\'s head. Then the brothers came down from the tree and clasped each other\'s hands.

"That was a good blow of yours," said Pilla.

"Ay, but it would never have been struck had you not put the axe into my hands," said Inda. "I had forgotten all about it. Our names will live long, brother."

"That will be agreeable, but I wish my nose were not so sore," said Pilla. "And your bruises—how are they?"

"Sore enough—but I had almost forgotten them. Ky, but I am hungry, Pilla!"

"I, too," said Pilla, looking with interest at the great dead body. "Well, at least we have plenty of food—Burkamukk said long ago that Kuperee should be enough for the whole tribe. Let us skin him carefully, for his hide will be a proud trophy to take back to our father—if we can but carry it."

"We shall eat him while it is drying," Inda said. "Then the skin will be lighter, and we shall be exceedingly strong. Come, brother—my hunger grows worse."

They fell to work on the huge carcass with their sharp skinning-knives, made of the thigh-bones of kangaroos. And then befel the most wonderful thing of all.