I have pursued the sport both mounted and on foot, and if a horse enables you occasionally, on comparatively unincumbered ground, to see something more of the run, you must still have pedestrians to hunt the dogs. After all, decide this point as you will, we esteem it the poorest variety of the chase. Some excitement must necessarily attend it, but too much is left to the imagination, and too little of either the game or the dogs is given to the eye. It is rarely, except when on horseback, that one has the good fortune to be in at the death, or to see the kangaroo pulled down. The ground is usually hilly, the scrub thick, and the grass high. It is needless to say that on the present occasion we were all on foot. Forestier's Peninsula is no place for a horse, except the traveller be jogging along the rugged and little frequented track which leads to Hobart Town, by a most circuitous route. Away then we strode, skirting the shore pretty closely, until we came to a valley which had been partially cleared by one of those extensive bush conflagrations which are of annual occurrence. The forest is fired in several places every summer, with a view to keeping down the scrub, and giving a chance of growth to the grass and the larger forest trees. These burn for several consecutive days, and at night the glare from them, lighting up the adjacent horizon, and the wind at one time whirling along vast clouds of smoke, and again throwing up sheets of flame and myriads of burning particles, produce an effect as grand as can be imagined. Here, then, in the glade, we paused, disposed ourselves in an extended line, slipped four dogs, and gave the word, "go seek." Away they trotted with nose to the ground, cautiously hunting, crossing and recrossing, but occasionally getting not only out of sight in the long grass, but out of hearing and command. Presently a sharp bark gave the signal of game started, and the next moment we catch a glimpse of the kangaroo in mid air, as he bounds down the declivity in a succession of leaps such as the kangaroos only can accomplish. There he goes, his tiny ears laid back along his small deer-like head, his forefeet gathered up like a penguin's flappers, and his long stout tail erect in the air. Now bounding aloft, now vanishing as he leaps into the waving grass. Two more of the dogs have sighted him, and are silently tearing along on his track. Every bound increases his distance from his pursuers, he winds round the base of the hill, to avoid the ascent, but up he must go; this is the only chance for the dogs, for running up hill is the kangaroo's weak point. But now we lose sight of both dogs and kangaroo; a burst of three minutes has sufficed to exhaust our first wind, and to break one of our shins; for tearing through grass as high as one's middle and stumbling over charred stumps and fallen trees, soon reduces one to the "dead beat" predicament. Jerry, alone, thanks to his hard condition, follows the chase.