pouch, held it to the water to drink. While her baby was satisfying 
its thirst, the mother was quivering all over with excitement, for she 
was only a few feet from the balcony, on which one of her great foes 
was sitting, watching her. The little one having finished drinking, it 
was replaced in the pouch, and the old kangaroo started off at a 
rapid pace. When the natural timidity of the kangaroo is taken into 
account, it will be recognised what astonishing bravery this affection 
ate mother betrayed. It is a pleasing ending to the story that the 
eye-witness was so affected by the scene that from that time forward 
he could never shoot a kangaroo.” 
Mr. Francis Galton says :— 
“There is no more cowardly and more helpless creature than a 
private member of a herd. It falls a ready victim to the attack of 
foes, but a cow who has calved by the wayside and has been 
temporarily abandoned by the caravan, is never seized by lions. The 
incident frequently occurs, and as frequently are the cow and calf 
eventually brought safe to the camp ; and yet there is usually evidence 
in footprints of her having sustained a regular siege from the wild 
beasts ; but she is so restless and eager for the safety of her young, 
that no beast of prey can ever approach her unawares. This state of 
exaltation is of course exceptional.”—(.Macmillan’s Magazine, 
vol. xxHi., p. JSS-) 
Sir Samuel W. Baker narrates the following incident:— 
“A native cow had a calf; this being her first-born, the mother was 
exceedingly vicious, and it was unsafe for a stranger to approach her, 
especially as her horns were unusually long and pointed. The cattle- 
shed was scarped out of the hillside, and was within a few feet of the 
blacksmith’s house. The roof was thatched. During the night a 
leopard, which smelt the presence of the cow and calf, mounted the 
roof of the shed and proceeded to force an entrance by scratching 
through the thatch. The cow at the same time had detected the 
presence of the leopard, and ever-mindful of her calf, she stood 
ready to receive the intruder, with her sharp horns prepared for 
its appearance. It is supposed that upon the leopard’s descent it was 
at once pinned to the ground before it had time to make its spring. 
The noise of a tremendous struggle aroused the blacksmith, who, 
with a lantern in his hand, opened the cattle-shed door and discovered 
the cow in a frantic state of rage, butting and tossing some large 
object to and fro, which evidently had lost all power of resistance. 
This was the leopard in the last gasp, having been run through the 
body by the ready horns of the courageous mother, whose little calf 
was nestled in a corner, unmindful of the maternal struggle.”—(Wild 
Beasts and their Ways. vol. /., pp. 282-j.)