It longed to leap at the poor Kangaroo's
throat--that pretty furry throat that Dot's arms had so often encircled
lovingly, and it was impatient to fix its terrible teeth there, and hold,
and hold, in a wild struggle, until the poor Kangaroo should gradually
weaken from fear and exhaustion, and be choked to death. These thoughts
filled the dog with a wicked joy. It wouldn't wait any longer for the
other dingo hounds. It wanted to murder the Kangaroo all by itself; so,
with a toss of its head, and a terrible snarl, it sprang forward
ferociously, with open jaws, aiming at the victim's throat.
Dot clasped her cold hands together. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and
her little voice, choking with sobs, could only wail, "Oh! dear Kangaroo!
my dear Kangaroo! Don't kill my dear Kangaroo!" and she ran forward to
throw herself upon the dog and try to save her friend.
But before the terrified little girl could reach the big rock, the dog had
made its spring upon her friend. The brave Kangaroo, instead of trying to
avoid her fierce enemy, opened her little arms, and stood erect and tall
to receive the attack. The dog in its eagerness, and owing to the nature
of the ground, misjudged the distance it had to spring. It failed to
reach the throat it had aimed at, and in a moment the Kangaroo had seized
the hound in a tight embrace.
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