"Well done, Fly!" he shouts; "bravely tried, my girl!" She had drawn herself ahead, and made a bold strike at the kangaroo, but missed him.

Now the other dog, Bolt, tries it, but without luck; and now they have both dropped a little back, and seem in for another mile or so.
Well done, lass!--there she goes again! With a furious effort she pushes ahead, and seizes the flying beast by the hock--this time with some luck, for down he goes in a cloud of dust and broken sticks, and both the dogs are on him at once.

Now he is up again and running, but feebly.

And see, what is the matter with the young dog?
He runs on, but keeps turning, snapping fiercely at his side, and his footsteps are marked with blood.

Poor lad! he has got a bad wound in that last tumble,--the kangaroo has ripped up his flank with a kick from his hind foot.