Then they squabbled together one saying I was a Beaver;
another, that I was a Duck; another, that I was a Mole, or a Rat. Then
they argued whether I was a bird, or an animal, or if we laid eggs, or
not; and everyone wrote a book, full of lies, all out of his head.
"That's the way Humans amuse themselves. They write books about things
they don't understand, and keep the game going by each new book saying the
others are all wrong. It's a silly game, and very insulting to the
creatures they write about. Humans at the other end of the world, who,
never took the trouble to come here to see me, wrote books about me.
Those who did come were more impudent than those who stayed away. Their
idea of learning all about a creature was to dig up its home, and frighten
it out of its wits, and kill it; and after a few moons of that sort of
foolery they claimed to know all about us. Us! whose ancestors knew the
world millions of years before the ignorant Humans came on the earth at
all!" The Platypus spluttered out more dirty water, in its indignation.
The Kangaroo became very timid, as it saw the rising anger of the Platypus,
and whispered to Dot to say something to calm the little creature.
"A million years is a very long time," said Dot; unable at the moment to
think of anything better to say.
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