It had the body and legs of a kangaroo, and the head of a monkey. Its tail was extremely long, with furry rings around it, and was tasseled at the end; and to keep it out of the dust, it had been tied in a bow-knot around the animal’s neck. [Illustration] The noise, which Mr. Bushy Tail had heard, proceeded from this person. “Who are you?” he inquired, as Mr. Bushy Tail approached. “_I_ am the celebrated Ring-Tailed Snorter, and you may now have the privilege of hearing me snortle,” which he proceeded to do most vigorously. Poor Mr. Bushy Tail was scared almost out of his wits, for never had he heard such terrible sounds. After a few minutes the Snorter stopped snortling, and said: “Now, _what_ do you think of that?” [Illustration] “_Never_ have I heard anything to equal it,” replied the tactful Mr. Bushy Tail, and he certainly never had. “If you’ll stay with me, I’ll do it for you every day,” said Mr. Ring Tail. “Thank you kindly,” said Mr. Bushy Tail, “but much as I should enjoy it, I must go home as soon as I can to my starving family.” He then told Mr. Snorter what had befallen him, and of his great desire to travel back to the North, in the speediest manner. [Illustration] “Come on!” said Mr. Ring Tail. “Just jump on my back, and I will take you to a friend of mine, who can whisk you there in no time.” “Hadn’t I better fill my bag first with these fine nuts?” asked Mr. Bushy Tail. “No, no, don’t bother about that; you’ll find nuts all the way home,” answered the other. So on jumped Mr. Bushy Tail, and away they went. “Hang on tight to my tail,” said the Snorter, as he leaped along. Never had Mr. Bushy Tail travelled at such a peculiar gait. It was like leap frog, only more so, and he felt as though he were on a ship at sea. However, he held on tight, and hoped for the best. [Illustration] The Gentle South Wind [Illustration] [Illustration: Chapter VIII _The Gentle South Wind_] Towards evening, they reached the top of a high hill, where Mr. Ring-Tailed Snorter stopped leaping, and gazed towards the South. “Here comes my friend,” said he. “Good bye,” and without a “by your leave,” or the chance of a “Thank you again,” the South wind had caught up Mr. Bushy Tail and was whirling him rapidly Northwards. [Illustration] For nearly a week they travelled on, but much more pleasantly than with the fierce North wind. At times the wind would stop blowing, and Mr. Bushy Tail would be gently dropped in some pretty wood or meadow, where he could find plenty to eat and to drink. He filled his bag to overflowing with the most delicious squirrel’s food, and only regretted that the bag was not bigger. At last one evening, the wind softly dropped him, and blew on alone. Mr. Bushy Tail looked about him, and saw that he was in his own woods, only a short distance from home.