roos.
They weren’t much worried about humans, as it turned out. At the moment, that was a plus. If the rexes had the same inclination, though, it would be just one more thing to worry about.
Susan I’d stationed roughly in eyeshot—at least, with the help of a good flashlight. But pretty soon I was so busy taking samples, that I had no time for more than an occasional check on her.
She was taking samples just as furiously as I was.
Moustafa’s estimate had been in the hundreds, by which he’d meant maybe two hundred. I’d have guessed more. I counted nearly a hundred within the ring of light my flashlight produced.
The flashlight bothered them not at all. They placidly munched at this, that, and the other. About as peaceful as a herd of cows and about as bright: one of the youngsters nibbled my tarp before I tapped its nose. Then it hopped back into mama’s pouch and glared at me. Mama went on chewing, while I
got samples of both.
In the cool of the evening, they were much more active. The youngsters chased and kicked each other and a lot of mock battles went down, reminding me of nothing so much as the way Susan and Mike behaved.
More than one of the youngsters had striped hips, so I crept as close as I dared while they were occupied with each other, to get samples specifically from them.
Once again, a mock battle— great leaps in the air and powerful kicks from those hind legs—covered my movement.
Three older kangaroos paused to look up from their eating, but they looked up at the antics of the youngsters with the same kind of wearied eye I had been known to turn on activities of that sort from our younger contingent. Satisfied that the kids weren’t getting into any trouble, they went back to what they’d been doing, which was grubbing in the ground, presumably for roots.
You wouldn’t believe those claws unless you saw them in action. Once again, I appreciated the muscular shoulders. I frankly didn’t see why a kangaroo rex should seem any more ferocious—at first glance, anyhow—then a basic kangaroo.
Watching them, I got a tickle in the back of my skull. The stuff they were grubbing up looked familiar. Nova light is romantic, but not as good for some things as for others. I debated the wisdom of turning my flashlight on them for a better look.
Being old hands, they would not be so likely to take my intrusion as lightly as the joey had. I didn’t want to start a stampede. There were just too many of them in the general neighborhood.
Page 41
I didn’t relish the thought of being run down by several hundred pounds of panicked roo.
The elder roos looked up, suddenly wary. I abandoned my plan and followed their point. Some sort of disturbance at the edge of the mob, very near where I’d last seen Susan. And damned if I could see her now. There were too many adult roos between my position and hers.
The nearby roos got a bit skittish. Two of the adult males bounced once in Susan’s direction, froze, and watched. A new mob had joined the browsing.
This was a smaller group. Dominant male, two females, and two matching joeys.
Damned if the male didn’t have that striped rump. I didn’t dare edge closer, not with the nearby roos nervous already. I held my ground and hoped the quintet of likelies would pass near enough to Susan for her to get a safe shot at sampling them.
But they skirted Susan (now that my brain was working again, I decided I was glad they had) and headed in my direction. Closer examination told me that poppa was a roo. Neither of the mamas was, though. To hell with the striped rump—these two were plain and simple kangaroo rexes—and most of the nearby roos didn’t like it any more than I did.
Their movements were different. (Well, let’s face it—they would be.) Except for the male, they weren’t grazing. They were searching the grass for whatever small prey the rest of the roos startled into motion. I could see why they liked to hang around with the browsers. The
They weren’t much worried about humans, as it turned out. At the moment, that was a plus. If the rexes had the same inclination, though, it would be just one more thing to worry about.
Susan I’d stationed roughly in eyeshot—at least, with the help of a good flashlight. But pretty soon I was so busy taking samples, that I had no time for more than an occasional check on her.
She was taking samples just as furiously as I was.
Moustafa’s estimate had been in the hundreds, by which he’d meant maybe two hundred. I’d have guessed more. I counted nearly a hundred within the ring of light my flashlight produced.
The flashlight bothered them not at all. They placidly munched at this, that, and the other. About as peaceful as a herd of cows and about as bright: one of the youngsters nibbled my tarp before I tapped its nose. Then it hopped back into mama’s pouch and glared at me. Mama went on chewing, while I
got samples of both.
In the cool of the evening, they were much more active. The youngsters chased and kicked each other and a lot of mock battles went down, reminding me of nothing so much as the way Susan and Mike behaved.
More than one of the youngsters had striped hips, so I crept as close as I dared while they were occupied with each other, to get samples specifically from them.
Once again, a mock battle— great leaps in the air and powerful kicks from those hind legs—covered my movement.
Three older kangaroos paused to look up from their eating, but they looked up at the antics of the youngsters with the same kind of wearied eye I had been known to turn on activities of that sort from our younger contingent. Satisfied that the kids weren’t getting into any trouble, they went back to what they’d been doing, which was grubbing in the ground, presumably for roots.
You wouldn’t believe those claws unless you saw them in action. Once again, I appreciated the muscular shoulders. I frankly didn’t see why a kangaroo rex should seem any more ferocious—at first glance, anyhow—then a basic kangaroo.
Watching them, I got a tickle in the back of my skull. The stuff they were grubbing up looked familiar. Nova light is romantic, but not as good for some things as for others. I debated the wisdom of turning my flashlight on them for a better look.
Being old hands, they would not be so likely to take my intrusion as lightly as the joey had. I didn’t want to start a stampede. There were just too many of them in the general neighborhood.
Page 41
I didn’t relish the thought of being run down by several hundred pounds of panicked roo.
The elder roos looked up, suddenly wary. I abandoned my plan and followed their point. Some sort of disturbance at the edge of the mob, very near where I’d last seen Susan. And damned if I could see her now. There were too many adult roos between my position and hers.
The nearby roos got a bit skittish. Two of the adult males bounced once in Susan’s direction, froze, and watched. A new mob had joined the browsing.
This was a smaller group. Dominant male, two females, and two matching joeys.
Damned if the male didn’t have that striped rump. I didn’t dare edge closer, not with the nearby roos nervous already. I held my ground and hoped the quintet of likelies would pass near enough to Susan for her to get a safe shot at sampling them.
But they skirted Susan (now that my brain was working again, I decided I was glad they had) and headed in my direction. Closer examination told me that poppa was a roo. Neither of the mamas was, though. To hell with the striped rump—these two were plain and simple kangaroo rexes—and most of the nearby roos didn’t like it any more than I did.
Their movements were different. (Well, let’s face it—they would be.) Except for the male, they weren’t grazing. They were searching the grass for whatever small prey the rest of the roos startled into motion. I could see why they liked to hang around with the browsers. The
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