The sun shone strongly on the open, grassed valley through which a clear blue stream trickled, edged by thick scrub. A dozen kangaroos, led by the "Old Man" hopped into the open, sniffed the wind and paused. Above the locusts and the calls of birds, they had heard an unusual noise - the noise of man.
Alert now, the mob stood erect, their small beady eyes striving to pierce the scrub and bushes, when there was a sharp crack, and one young kangaroo fell kicking, its lifeblood staining the ground. As one, the restof the mob bounded away with several useless bullets whistling over their heads.
Riders burst out of the bush in pursuit. For several hours the chase went on and more of the mob fell to the hunters' bullets. The leader of the animals was, however, old and cunning. He chose ground where even the mothers with their young could move quickly, and by speed and cunning the rest of the mob baffled the persistent graziers. A thick patch of scrub gave cover to the animals and at last blocked the hunters.