While usually mild and timid the kangaroo, especially the adult male, or the mother with a little one in her pouch to fight for, will arouse herself to great courage and give battle. At such a crisis the kangaroo will seize a dog in its fore-paws and squeeze it to death, or tear it to pieces with the large toes of the hind-feet. A kangaroo is also able to wield its tail with the strength and precision with which a man uses his arm. When chased by dogs the kangaroo will sometimes, with this long, heavy tail, strike its pursuer a blow so severe as to stun or kill it. Occasionally adult male kangaroos will have a battle or duel. They stand face to face, bracing themselves by their tails, and simply claw at each other until they have satisfied their anger. Sometimes when hunted by men or wild beasts the kangaroo is brought to bay, and defends itself in a peculiar fashion. It secures a position against a tree, or some object high enough to rest upon, clasping it with its fore-paws; then it braces itself firmly by its tail and lashes out with its hind-legs, armed with the immense toe and nail. In such circumstances an angry kangaroo is a very dangerous animal to approach. The place to lean upon while showing fight in this fashion is indispensable, because the kangaroo lifts both its hind-legs at once. It cannot make a stepping motion, lifting first one leg and then the other; nor can it rest upon one leg and kick with the other: the motion of the two legs must be similar and simultaneous. The kangaroo differs from the opossum in the number of its teeth, having but thirty-four instead of fifty. These teeth are formed entirely for cutting and grinding vegetable substances. The kangaroo differs from the opossum as much in the number of its family as in the number of its teeth. At the most two little ones complete the litter, and these when born are almost the tiniest of quadrupeds, are blind, helpless, and with bare skins instead of such warm fur coats as furnish forth little kittens. These feeble babies are snugly tucked in the fur pouch of their mother, and there, kept warm and well fed, they grow rapidly. The mother meantime rambles around, feeding and attending to her affairs with all the indifference of an Indian squaw with her pappoose tied to her back. The squaw’s pappoose is hung over her shoulders, so that it looks out on the world from her back; the kangaroo’s far older style of pappoose is carried in a front pocket, where it is always within reach of its mother’s hands and under her eyes. When the kangaroo pappoose has been for some weeks tucked snugly away, it finally gets its eyes open, is covered with a lovely, soft coat, and begins to feel an interest in the world at large. Then it thrusts from the pouch its head, which is a funny little copy of the maternal head above it. Like its mother it has large, erect ears, bright eyes, and an intent expression.