The boomerang has a favorite trick of hiding itself in the grass or bushes, and I have looked for one in vain in an open field, and given it up as lost, when, on returning the next day, it was found at once. But they cannot hide from these little black fellows. They have most wonderful eyes, deep set in their heads, and their sight is perhaps keener than that of any other member of the human race. When a boomerang fell at a distance they would run as fast as they could until near the place, then stand perfectly still for a moment, like a hunting dog, make a dive into the bushes, and reappear with the boomerang in the hand. One little fellow was hit in the calf of his leg while standing thus. It was a bad cut and bled freely. He disappeared among the humpies without a whimper, soon coming out again with a bandage of rags around the wounded leg.