I Have
Seen Numbers Of These Nests, Never With Eggs In, But Often With The
Shells From Recently Hatched Birds Lying About.
How the little ones force
their way through the sticks I do not understand, but Warri and many
others who have found the eggs assure me that they do so.
Towards evening we neared a prominent bluff that we had sighted the day
before, and got a further insight into the habits of the wild dog. A
dingo - a female, and possibly our friend with the pups - had followed us
persistently all day. Godfrey, who was walking behind the camels, opened
the acquaintance by practising his revolver-shooting upon her. His poor
aim seemed to give her confidence, and before long she started to play
with Val. By nightfall we had petted and fed her out of our hands, and
given her a small drop of water from our fast diminishing supply - this at
the earnest request of Godfrey, who offered to give her some of his
share; and indeed it seemed rather cruel to refuse a poor famished beast
that had come to us in her distress. We all agreed how nice it was to have
won the affections of a real wild dog. By daybreak our feelings of love
had somewhat abated, as our friend prowled about all night, poking her
nose into pots and pans, chewing saddles, pack-bags, straps, and even our
blankets as we lay in them, and cared no more for blows than for the
violent oaths that were wasted upon her.
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