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Title: Bush Cobbers Author: Musette Morell * A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook * eBook No.: 1600721h.html Language: English Date first posted: June 2016 Most recent update: June 2016 This eBook was produced by: Colin Choat Project Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editions which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice is included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particular paper edition. Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this file. This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg Australia Licence which may be viewed online.GO TO Project Gutenberg Australia HOME PAGE
"Same old bush, same old rocks and stones, same small ants
running about, making patterns that never stay put. Same old
everything!" snorted Spiny.
And it was just then and there that he thought of the really
great idea that was to lead to all the adventures.
"I know what I'll do," he thought; "I'll leave all this and go
and seek my fortune—that's what!"
So, uncurling himself, and standing up on his four feet, the two
front feet pointing front and the two back feet pointing back,
Spiny set out at a trot through the trees.
He was passing the pool when he had another thought: "Think I'll
ask cousin Plat to come with me—that's what!"
He looked to see if Platypus was floating on top of the pool.
No. But way down under the wavering water was a dim shape that
might be Platypus, so he shouted: "Platypus, hi, Platypus!"
But way down near the bottom of the pool Platypus couldn't hear,
for, when under water, what scrap of ear he had was always folded
away in a furrow of fur. However, a friendly frog heard Spiny call,
and diving down, croaked with his mouth full of water:
"Your cousin wants you, Platypus,
Swim up now, or he'll make a fuss."
And the little fish lent their voices and all shouted
together:
"Hi, Platypus—hi, Platypus!
Go up now and don't make a fuss."
Soon a duck's bill appeared, followed by the furry skin of an
animal and the webbed-feet of a water bird—and all that was
Platypus. Without seeing Spiny, he reached up out of the water and
drew himself into the opening of a burrow made in the side of the
sand-bank. He stood there in the entrance to his home, blinking the
water out of his eyes, wringing his coat, wiping his feet on the
earthy mat, and would have gone inside without seeing Spiny at all
if Frog had not tapped him with a green foot and cried: "Look,
stupid, your cousin waits!"
Platypus looked, then quickly scrambled up the steep bank and
stood before Spiny, preening his brown velvety coat with his duck's
bill, as he asked:
"You wanted me, Spiny?"
"Yes, Plat; I thought you might like to cone along."
"Where to?"
"Wherever I find it, Plat."
"What are you looking for?"
"My fortune. Why don't you look for yours, Plat?"
"H'm; well, this pool is a bit small."
"That's what I thought, Plat."
"And it'll be getting smaller if the weather keeps dry."
"Yes. I know the ants around here are getting smaller and
smaller. That's what decided me to go—that's what."
"Well, I'll go with you, Spiny. We'll go together."
"Hurrah! You're a good fish—er, I mean, a good
animal—bird—oh! a good Platypus—that's what! Come
on!"
And, as they rambled along, Platypus shuffling on his
webbed-feet, and Spiny snuffling, with his long nose poking out
before him, and wagging from side to side, they talked of the great
times they would have when they found their fortune. Then just when
the sun was going to bed:
Swish!
"Oh, what ever's t-that?" stuttered Platypus. "I hear something
but I can't see it."
Spiny couldn't see either, that's why he had stretched his long
nose out in front, snuffling fast. Suddenly he said, "I smell
fur!"
SWISH!
"It's my fur you can smell," said a pretty little voice from a
bough above their heads which was swaying to and fro, and up and
down. "It's only me, having a swing. I'm awake early to-night. I'm
awake before the moon."
"Why it's a possum, hanging by her tail from a bough of that
tree—a ring-tailed possum," cried Platypus.
"Yes, I've just been counting the rings on my tail. Do you
admire them?" asked the sweet voice.
"They re tip-top," breathed Spiny, and his quills quivered with
admiration.
"We really haven't time to admire things. We've got to seek our
fortune," said Platypus, primly.
"Oh! Are you going far?" asked the gentle Possum.
"Maybe round the world and back," said Spiny.
"Oh!"
"Maybe to the end of the rainbow," said Platypus.
"Oh!"
"Maybe to the top of the highest mountain," said Spiny.
"Oh!"
"Maybe to the deeps of the deepest sea," said Platypus.
"Oh!" exclaimed Possum and added wistfully, "Someday I will seek
my fortune, too. The leaves I eat here aren't as green as they used
to be; and if the weather keeps dry, they won't even be as green as
they are now."
Platypus and Spiny looked her over. She was a pretty, soft
little thing with her wide gently staring eyes and the end of her
tail looped like a ring. Spiny was the first to speak.
"Why don't you come with us and seek your
fortune—now?'
"Oh, I'd love to—could I?" And Possum dropped to the
ground.
"If you come with us, you'll have to be a cobber," warned
Platypus.
"What does a cobber do?" asked Possum.
"A cobber is a friend," began Platypus, but Possum
interrupted:
"I know what a cobber is, but what does a cobber do?"
"A cobber sticks to other cobbers, of course," said Platypus.
"Hi, Spiny, do you reckon a girl can be a cobber?"
"I reckon a girl that can stick by her tail to a tree could
stick to anything," answered Spiny.
"Oh, I'll stick—I'll be a cobber!" cried Possum, clapping
her pink paws.
"Dinky-di?" asked the boys.
"Dinky-di."
"Then, come on!"
Just then there was a little clicking sound. A round earthy door
had opened in the ground by their feet and a angry-looking brown
spider, covered with black hairs, stood in the door-way glaring at
them.
"It's Mrs. Snap, the trap-door spider." whispered Spiny, "that's
what! She'll set a trap for us; she always does,"
"And where do you three think you are going?" asked Mrs. Snap,
snappily.
"We're going to seek our fortune," answered the cobbers.
"What do you call your fortune?" asked Mrs. Snap.
"Mine's a bigger pool," said Platypus.
"Mine's the bigger ants," said Spiny.
"Mine's the greener leaves," said Possum.
"There's no bigger pool. There's no bigger ants and there's no
greener leaves," snapped Mrs. Snap. "You'll learn."
"Learn what?"
"That everything's the same—even when it's different. That
the best things are close at hand, but you can't see them because
they're not far away."
"Oh, why do you talk like that?" wailed the cobbers.
"Like what?"
"Like that."
"The wise talk in riddles," said Mrs. Snap, grandly.
"That's why I talk in riddles. And what I say is true. You'll
learn." And she sang:
If another land you'd find,
Look around, look around.
What is it that you have found?
Only ground.
If a different pool you'd seek—
Think you oughta, think you oughta!—
You will learn that every pool
Is only water.
So travel far and travel wide,
Till you lose your wish to roam,
Then creep—back—home.
"Thank you for the song," said Possum, politely. "But we'll have
to leave you now."
"We're going to seek our—" began the boys.
But Mrs. Snap interrupted,﹃Oh, don't spin me that fortune-yam
again. It's too stupid.﹄And running inside, she slammed her
trap-door in their faces. So after calling "Good-bye!" to her
through the key-hole, Possum, Spiny and Platypus set off on their
journey. And as they bounced along the track they sang a happy
song:
To fortune-O! To fortune-O!
To find our fortune, off we go.
And when we find it, we will be
The merriest three you ever did see.
To fortune-O! To fortune-O!
Well travel night and day.
We know good luck is waiting us:
Possum, Spiny and Platypus.
So yippy-ho! And away we go.
HURRAY! Away and away!
Away,—
away,—and away!
"I wasn't trying to frighten your silly Possum. Possums are
afraid of me anyway. There'll be a full moon to-night and, as I
don't like full moons, I was saying so." And Dingo tilted back his
head and let out an extra loud howl, so that the leaves around
shivering Possum rattled as though the wind was shaking them.
"Why should a grown-up Dingo bark at the moon?" asked
Platypus.
"Dingoes never bark, they howl and bay," snapped Dingo.
"Anyway, barking or baying, it's a very rubbish thing to do,
it's—it's puppyish," said Platypus.
"Don't you call me rubbish or puppyish, you childish Platypus,"
snarled Dingo.﹃Why, you haven't grown out of your duck's bill yet.
And your toes are webbed together like the feet of a chicken. To
look at you, one would think you couldn't make up your mind what
you meant to be. Ha-ha!﹄And Dingo sang:
When Platypus was born, his mother
Loved him like she loved his brother.
But no one, even wise old Owl,
Knows if he's flesh or fish or fowl.
This rude song about Platypus made Spiny angry. He stuck out his
nose, and turned in his toes and stuttered, "Y-You may not know
what my cousin Platypus is, old Dingo, but I—I know. He's a
Platypus—that's what!"
Then Dingo flashed his eves back on to Spiny.﹃And what sort of
a what's-this are you?﹄he asked, and stared first at Spiny's feet,
and then at his nose, while he sang:
When Spiny Ant-eater shuffles about
He walks with his front feet pointed out,
And walks with his back feet pointed back.
Will he go forward, or shunt down the track?
He snuffles and waggles his long thin nose.
He waggles his nose wherever he goes.
He's full of conceit, though he's not very big,
And he grunts like his father, old Grunter, the pig.
And Dingo laughed a loud ha-ha!
If an ant-eater could blush, Spiny would have blushed a very
bright red; as it was he spluttered so much, he couldn't speak. But
Platypus could speak, and he shouted:
"Spiny's father isn't a pig, and don't you tell fibs about him
or there'll he a ding-dong row and I'll—"
What he would do was never known, for Dingo laughed so loudly
Platypus could not be heard.
But Platypus and Spiny were kindly little fellows, and they
didn't like quarrelling. So Spiny said, "If you'll stop laughing at
us we'll tell you what we're doing."
"Well, what are you doing?" demanded Dingo.
"We're seeking our fortune—that's what."
"Oh, are you. Well, I know where my fortune is."
"You know?" gasped Spiny and Platypus together.
"Yes, it's down by the creek, where I buried it. And if you want
to know what it is—it's three large bones." And Dingo ran off
laughing.
"Three bones, that's not much of a fortune," said Platypus.
"Well, we'd better get on after our fortune. Slither down from your
tree, Possum."
But Possum didn't slither down. She had got over her fright at
the dingo and was enjoying herself, having a swing in the
trees.
Swish...swish...swish...swish!
"Possum! Come on, Possum!" called the boys.
"Oh, boys, boys, come up and have a swing. It's such fun," cried
Possum.
"But we can't swing, Possum."
"Oh, yes, you can. Watch me."
And Possum ran to the tip-end of a high branch so that it dipped
down to a neighbour. Then hanging by the curl in her tail, and
swinging her body free and over to the new branch, she clutched
hold of it tightly with her pink paws, and scrambling up, ran along
it to the tip, till it, in turn, dipped to a neighbour. And so on
went Possum, turning somersaults in the air from branch to branch
and giving her little bird-like cry. The boys could see she was
having wonderful fun.
"It looks tip-top—that's what," smiled Spiny.
"It does too, smiled Platypus.
"It is. Come on, come on." Swish...swish!
"We'll try it," said Spiny and Platypus.
Huffing and puffing and tripping and slipping, and sometimes
giving each other a leg-up, they at last managed to scramble up the
gum. Then, looking around nervously, Platypus said to Spiny and
Spiny said to Platypus, "I-I'm the biggest, Spiny, so it's only
fair for me to go first."
"I'll try f-f-first if you like, Plat."
"No; i-it's O.K., Spiny."
"B-but really, Plat—"
This might have gone on for ever if Possum hadn't called to
them. "Oh, do hurry up boys. You're missing the fun. Why don't you
both go together?"
"We will."
So, not wishing to disappoint Possum, and really hoping it might
be fun, Spiny and Platypus shut their eyes tight and—. But
somehow, Plat's thick flat tail just wouldn't cling. And as Spiny
had no tail at all, try as he would, he couldn't hang by it. So,
bang! Biff! Bash! Down they crashed through the tree, not on to the
ground, but splash into the creek.
And Possum clasped her pink paws and cried,﹃Oh. dear, now
they'll get wet!﹄
"I've never seen him have a dip before," answered
Platypus.
"Oh dear, his nose looks sort of—sort
of—unhappy."
"And it's very blue!"
"Poor old Spiny! Perhaps, if he got interested in something he'd
feel better. What does he like best in the world, Platypus?"
"Well, Possum, he seems to like eating best."
"Oh, good. We'll get him something to eat."
And away they ran, Platypus off back to the creek to burrow and
burrow with his great front claw in the mud by the bank for worms;
and Possum off back up the tree, to crop the tenderest green
leaves. Then they came puffing back.
"Here's a long juicy fellow, Spiny. And you'll like this one.
Look, a big pink prawn," said Platypus proudly.
"Here is a gum-leaf, Spiny, and see, a gum-blossom, brimming
with honey," cried Possum.
But Spiny, who was a fat little fellow and loved eating, didn't
even open an eye. Of course, ant-eaters don't eat worms or prawns,
or leaves or blossoms, but that wasn't the reason Spiny's eyes
stayed shut.
"He—he must be sick." And, feeling quite helpless, and
very sad, Platypus and Possum sat down and cried into their
paws.
Then a glad thing happened. First one of Spiny's eyes blinked,
then the other; and sound issued from his long thin nose as it
began to wag, slowly, from side to side. Possum and Platypus
stopped crying.
"I think the nicest sound in all the world is a snuffle;
especially when it's old Spiny who snuffles. He must be better,"
said Platypus.
They both laughed for joy. And Spiny said,﹃Oh, you're laughing.
I thought I heard you crying.﹄Then he told them he would feel much
better if he had a good long sleep. The shadows closed in about
them; it was night. They'd been walking all day, so it was time for
a rest. Plat lay down beside Spiny for a nap.
But as to Possum—you know what possums do at night? Yes,
Possum was racing, chasing shadows through the bush; springing from
tree to tree; sometimes swinging on a branch—swish!—or
crouching against the trunk to nibble a leaf, while she stared at
the staring owls. But whatever she did she was wide awake all the
time. So when morning came and Platypus and Spiny were ready to set
off again, they found Possum hanging upside down by her tail, fast
asleep.
Try as they would, the boys couldn't wake her. Platypus snorted
with disgust.
"Isn't that just like a girl?"
"When—when—we can't walk any more," gasped
Platypus.
And could you believe it? Those two brave fellows staggered on,
huffing and puffing, and sometimes slipping and almost tripping. On
and on, while the sun sailed right around the sky, till about tea
time it came to rest in the west. Then the boys laid the branch,
with their sleeping cobber, gently on the ground, and sank down,
too tired even to eat.
But as to Possum I Possum sat up, gave her bright bird-like
call, counted the pretty rings on her tail to see if she still had
them all, and said,
"I'm awake early to-night. I'm awake before the moon. Come on,
boys; have you forgotten we're going to seek our fortune?"
"We—we've—been seeking—our fortune.
Look—where—we—are."
Possum looked. The scene had changed. She couldn't see even the
top of the gum-tree where she used to sleep, or the creek where
Platypus used to swim, or the log on which Spiny used to lie. This
puzzled her and made her wrinkle her pink nose as she asked, "But
how did I get here? I couldn't have walked in my sleep."
"We carried you here."
"How could you?"
The only answer the boys gave was a low rumbling snore. Then
Possum, who wasn't too bright, except about the eyes, put together
the branch at her feet and her dream of the wind rocking the
branches, and they added up to the boys' having truly carried her.
When she thought of those two fat fellows shuffling and snuffling
along, bearing her weight between them, she felt really terrible.
So then she made up her fluffy little mind that she would sleep all
through the night, so that she could stay awake the next day.
"I'll sleep with all my might," Possum promised herself.
But, although Possum had winning little ways, and a pretty
little face, and a sweet little voice, she really had very little
memory, and ideas blew in and out of her shaggy head like the wind
blew through the trees she loved so well. So in the morning Possum
was rather sleepy, and after the boys had breakfasted and were
about to set out on the track, she was very sleepy.
The boys sighed and said, "Oh, dear, I suppose we'll have to
carry her again."
"Oh, no, no!" cried Possum, quickly. "I'll walk. But I do wish
you boys would walk at night instead of day."
"But we have to sleep at night, Possum," cried Spiny.
"Other ant-eaters and platypusses don't sleep at night," said
Possum.
"But we have to sleep at night now that we're looking for our
fortune," said the boys.
"Well, I'll try to keep awake to-day," said Possum, blinking her
eyes very fast in an effort not to let the heavy lids stay shut.
"I'll try, and try, and try."
"There must be something to keep even a possum awake," grumbled
Platypus.
"A band is a good way to keep one awake," whispered Possum,
drowsily.
"What is a band?" asked the boys eagerly.
"A band is a loud noise pleasant to the ear."
So then, yawning, Possum told the boys how one night when she
was just settling down to sleep in a tree in the park where she had
once lived, some men came under the tree and blew on funny things
called trumpets and she couldn't go to sleep until they
stopped.
"But we haven't any trumpets, Possum," said Spiny.
Suddenly Platypus remembered he had seen some Aborigines blow on
gum-leaves to make a loud noise pleasant to the ear.
"Oh, then let us get some gum-leaves," cried Spiny.
So flip! Off went Possum up a tall gum to pick the leaves. "Here
they are, boys."
The boys tried the leaves out and said they were the very
thing.
"Now we can go to seek our fortune without stopping for Possum
to sleep," said Platypus. "We had better blow very loud so as to be
sure to keep her awake."
Off went the Cobbers, playing their very loudest.
Oh, a gum-leaf band
Is simply grand,
Ta-ra, ta-ra, ta-ra.
We'll fling along
And sing our song.
Tra-la, tra-la, tra-la
Doh—te—la—soh—
Fa—me—re—doh.
We play our band and away we go.
Oh, a guns-leaf band
Is simply grand,
You blow—and—blow—and blow!
In less than two shakes of a lamb's tail, Possum had dropped to
the ground and stood in a row with Spiny and Platypus. Then the
three smiling cobbers swelled out their chests and blew very, very
hard on their gum-leaves.
Oh, a gum-leaf band
Is simply grand,
Tara, terra, terra!
And then as the cobbers played their band, a wonderful thing
happened. The birds began to sing and whistle, and the creatures
began to dance. Till very soon it seemed all the bush was either
dancing or singing.
To be sure, some of the tiny chaps, such as worms, merely
wriggled, and the frogs couldn't do much more than hop. Kangaroos
hopped, too, but what a mighty hop! Emus flapped their great wings
and stamped about; water fowls screeched, and ran up and down.
Birds jigged on the air, or went wheeling round and round, in ever
larger circles. But best of all were the brolgas. Silvery-grey,
with glowing red throats, black wings and long black legs and feet,
they danced as though in a dream; smiling down their long beaks,
shutting their eyes with the sheer joy of it; spreading their fine
wings, arching their slender necks, kicking their slender legs,
they danced because dancing made them happier than anything else in
the world.
If the cobbers hadn't been playing their band so loudly, they
would have heard the brolgas sing:
First we lift the right leg high, then low.
Next we lift the left the same. Then, Oh!
So sedately
Slow and stately,
Round and round and round we go.
Down we droop our beaks, our heads droop, too.
Up we strain our necks towards the blue.
Wings out-spreading,
Feet light-treading,
Sailing round as brolgas do.
At last the band ceased playing, the birds ceased whistling, and
the creatures, even the brolgas, ceased dancing.
The concert was over. Saying good-bye, the cobbers started down
the track.
But Emu cried out: "Wait! Possum, Spiny Anteater and Platypus,
don't leave us. We want you to stay with us. Then we can have a
concert every day."
But Platypus explained that they were going to seek their
fortunes, and that they really had to hurry about it. The creatures
were very sad, and all said so.
Waving good-bye again, the cobbers set off, singing as they
went:
To fortune-O! To fortune-O!
To find our fortune, off we go.
But suddenly Platypus stopped dead, and stared at something at
his feet on the path. And he looked very, very scared.
"Y-yes, Possum."
"And then he'd eat us instead of Platypus?"
"Y-yes, Possum. Can you think of anything else we could do?"
"N-no, Spiny."
"Then, what do you think of what I thought, Possum?"
"I suppose it's the only thing we can do. C-come on."
"I-I'll go first, Possum."
"Why?"
"Well, because I'm a boy, Possum."
"But I thought ladies always went first."
"Only when going first is nice."
"It's not nice, so we'll both go first. Wait till I come down to
you."
And Possum scrambled down the tree, and stood in line with
Spiny. Then they walked slowly forward; so very slowly that they
scarcely seemed to move at all, and, indeed, when they were quite
close to Snake, Spiny even seemed to walk backwards; but he said
that was because there were pebbles between his toes, which made
him roll back.
But even though you walk slower than a snail and wobble more
widely than a crab, you do, finally, get to where you started for.
And so at last Possum and Spiny stood right in front of Snake. They
shut their eyes tight so they wouldn't see when snake pounced.
But though they waited, and waited, and waited, nothing
happened. They waited even longer, and still NOTHING HAPPENED.
Snake wasn't eating them. Snake wasn't even stinging them with his
long sharp fangs. As far as they could tell, snake wasn't doing
anything, except making a sound like a kettle does just before it
comes to the boil.
"Hiss-sssss!"
So very carefully each of them opened one eye. Snake's green
headlights were still fixed on Platypus, and by the look on poor
old Platypus it was plain that he thought "It won't be long
now."
But Snake was the sort of a reptile that, though it likes very
much to eat, it also likes to think about eating. He was thinking
about eating now; gloating over his dinner and humming a gay
song.
When I first saw fatty Plat-y-pus,
I wished that I could see
Young Fatty on a platter
To be served me for my tea.
He paddled in his puddle-O,
Then waddled home again.
Oh, how I wished he'd toddle—
Doddle way down my red lane.
NOW I'll open up my jaws for him
And when he's waddled in,
I'll snap them shut. Then gobble-O
Till Fat is gobbled thin.
Oh gobble-O! Oh gobble-O!
I'd crunch and munch that Waddle-O.
I'd snap my jaws on bill and claws
Till Fat is gobbled thin.
Thinking about eating Platypus made snake so happy that he
floundered about, looping first this way, then that way, or coiled
round and round on top of himself like a stack of children's hoops;
or tied himself in large knots. Once he got so excited he even tied
himself into a true-lovers' knot.
But whatever he did, he still kept his eyes glued on
Platypus.
As to Platypus, he seemed to have turned yellow all over, a
sickly greenish-yellow. He had made himself as small as possible,
but still snake's terrible eves glared at him, seeming to bore and
bore themselves into him like a gimlet, till poor old frightened
Platypus shivered and quivered like blancmange, and his bill
chattered like teeth chatter when the weather freezes.
But now that Possum and Spiny knew snake wasn't interested in
eating them, they didn't feel frightened, or so they told
themselves, till suddenly, snake moved. Then they both scampered
away, Spiny to dig under a rock, and Possum to go flip up the
nearest tree.
But they needn't have worried. Snake wasn't thinking of them; he
wasn't even thinking of Platypus at the moment; he had moved
because he felt uncomfortable, for his last loop had landed him on
top of two sharp pebbles. He wriggled the part of his body in the
third coil away from the pebbles, but then they stuck in his fourth
coil. He wriggled his fourth coil, but then they stuck in his fifth
coil. He wriggled his fifth coil, but then they stuck in his sixth
and last coil. That got him really mad, and he thrashed the ground
furiously.
It was then Spiny had one of his brightest ideas, and it was
just as well for, at every move, snake had gone closer to Platypus.
Now he quickly coiled his long thin body up into a stack of hoops,
stuck out his long neck till his face was only an inch off his
victim, darted out his tongue, and smacked his lips, as though
practising eating.
"Hissssssssssssss!"
If Platypus hadn't been too scared to listen he might have heard
Spiny say:
"Possum, Possum, I've got an idea. Snake doesn't like stones
sticking into him, so he wouldn't like the sharp spears that grow
on my back sticking into him. And I'm going to roll myself into a
ball, and then roll on him. That'll make him take his eyes off my
cousin. That's what."
"Yes, aren't I?" smiled Spiny, uncurling himself out of the
ball; and then he and Possum went bouncing up to Platypus to give
him a big hug, and cry: "You re saved, Platypus."
Poor old Platypus could only gurgle as though his head was under
water, for the lump in his throat wouldn't let him speak. Seeing
Platypus so upset, upset Possum and Spiny, and they all three each
wept at least one big tear.
"Thanks for frightening snake away, Spiny; you're a real
cobber," sniffed Platypus.
"Oh, that's all right, Plat," snuffled Spiny, flicking away his
tear and feeling as happy as if he'd already found the bigger
ants.
Then Platypus took a deep breath, pulled himself together, and
said, "Well, we'll have to get going again; remember we're out to
seek our fortune. That old snake wasted a lot of time."
So off went the cobbers, singing their gay song. But after
they'd been going a bit, they found they had to slow down. The
broad road had narrowed to a very thin track, so that instead of
tramping along three in a row, the cobbers had to walk one after
the other, in single file. They also found they had to walk slower
and slower, and then Spiny, who was at the head of the trio, saw
why. They had come up behind a procession of caterpillars.
Caterpillars have never been famous for their speed, and these
caterpillars were no different to any others. They passed one blade
of grass at a time and very slow time at that. But far from being
impatient with themselves, they were very pleased. The cobbers
thought them quite the vainest caterpillars they had ever met;
especially when they heard the boastful song they sang:
When caterpillars walk abroad
Oh, how the scenery flies,
Tall trees and bushes scamper by,
And rocks flash past our eyes.
We really go so very fast,
We seem to fly indeed;
But caterpillars have no wings;
It's just that we have speed.
So on and on. Step one. Step two.
And should you wonder what to do,
Or where to go, or after who,
Just follow on—ahead—of—you.
Yes, on and on. Step one. Step two.
No need to wonder what to do,
Or where to go, or after who,
Just follow on—ahead—of—you.
And each caterpillar crawled slowly on, following the
caterpillar ahead of him; really believing that he was walking very
fast and that the scenery flashed past him, and all the other
strange things caterpillars believe.
The cobbers didn't like the slow pace.
"This is too slow to catch worms," snorted Platypus.
"It's too slow to catch ants," snuffled Spiny.
"It's even too slow to catch gum leaves," wheezed Possum.
And then the cobbers shouted with one voice: "Hurry! Hurry!
Flurry! Scurry!"
But do you think those caterpillars would get a move on? Not
they! On they crawled, chanting their conceited ditty:
When caterpillars walk abroad
Oh, how the scenery flies.
Tall trees and bushes scamper by,
And rocks flash past our eyes.
The cobbers had one comfort—the scenery. Platypus liked
it. "That's a very nice pool," he remarked.
And later, "That's a very pretty pool," observed Spiny.
And later still, "That's a very nice, pretty pool," said
Possum.
And the cobbers would have thought there were one, two, three
pools along that part of the track, if a feathery old owl in the
tree above their heads hadn't given a loud hoot, and cried:
"Tu-whit, to-whop! Hoo! Hoo! Who are you? Don't tell me; don't
speak! I hate noise. But what I would like to know is why you three
great animals come marching round and round my tree, hooting
`That's a very nice pool,' and `That's a very pretty pool,' and
`That's a very nice, very pretty pool,' so that a respectable owl
can't get a wink of sleep all day."
The cobbers looked at each other in amazement, and Spiny asked:
"Please, Owl, did you say we were tramping round and round your
tree?"
"Yes, of course, that's what I said. Can't you even hear
straight? I'm not so very surprised to see a stupid spiny ant-eater
and an idiotic platypus stamping about at day-time, but why a
possum should do it too beats me. All respectable possums sleep
through the day. What have you to say for yourself. Miss?"
"W-well, you see, Mr. Owl—" began Possum, but Owl
interrupted:
"Yes, of course, I see—though not very well in sunlight. I
can see your round eyes blinking and your pink nose twitching, but
that doesn't tell me why you stay awake at day-time."
"I stay awake for the same reason as Spiny and Plat stay awake,
because we are travelling to seek our fortune," said Possum.
This made Owl snort so hard that he almost fell off his branch.
"Your grandmother and your aunts should be told about it, Miss, and
then they might put you in a tree and see that you sleep. Where do
you live?"
"Excuse me, Owl, but I have to go now." And Possum scampered off
to where Spiny and Platypus were waiting for her by the side of the
one little pool they had thought was three.
The boys looked up to greet Possum, and then Platypus noticed
that the procession of caterpillars was still marching round and
round the same tree. "Silly creatures!" he scoffed.
"They'll never get anywhere going round in a circle. Don't you
think we ought to tell them?" asked Spiny.
So back went the cobbers, just in time to see the tail-end of
the procession of caterpillars disappearing around the left side of
the tree bole.
The cobbers waited, and soon the head of the procession came
into view.
"We'd better tell the leader, Plat," said Spiny.
"Yes. I'll tell him." said Platypus, suddenly very important.
"Er! Excuse me, First Mr. Caterpillar, but do you know you're all
marching round and round the same tree?"
"When caterpillars walk abroad
Oh, how the scenery flies."
sang the procession.
"The stupid creature wouldn't listen; he's gone past," grumbled
Platypus.
"I'll speak to the next one," said Spiny. "Ahem! excuse me,
Second Mr. Caterpillar, but you're not going anywhere, you
know."
"We really go so very fast
We seem to fly indeed,"
trilled the procession.
"He wouldn't listen either," growled Spiny. "You speak to the
next one, Possum."
"All right, Spiny. Er-er-excuse use, Third Mr. Caterpillar,
er-er-er—"
"So on and on. Step one. Step two.
And should you wonder what to do,
Or where to go, or after who,
Just follow on—ahead—of—you,"
warbled the wobbling procession, as slowly, very slowly it
disappeared around the tree trunk.
"He wouldn't listen, either," grizzled Possum.
"They're the most pig-headed mules I've ever met," said
Platypus.
"I think so, too," said Spiny.
"And I think so, three," said Possum.
"It shows that they just follow the leader and never once think
for themselves," sneered Platypus. "Well, we'll have to leave them
and go off after our fortune. Come on, Cobbers!"
"Wait a tail-flap, Plat, Spiny's not ready," said Possum.
"What's wrong with him?" asked Platypus impatiently.
Something was certainly wrong with Spiny. One minute he stood on
his head, the next he rolled over on his back, and tossed from side
to side; and, in between, he seemed trying to stick his two back
feet, as well as his two front feet, into his left ear, while he
muttered and spluttered in what seemed to be a dozen foreign
languages.
"I'm afraid he's in trouble," said Possum.
"Hurrah! Here I go," he cried, and bolted for the green. Faster
than ever he ran, which tickled Spiny more than ever, so that he
couldn't make up his mind to stand on his pointed toes or his long
thin nose. He tried to do both at once and missed, and rolled over
and over and over. Bump! Bump! Bump!—which tossed Ant
head-over-heels—one! two! three!—out on to the cool
soft grass.
"Oooooooh!" gasped Ant, sitting up and counting his six feet to
see if they were all there.
"One, two, three, four, five, six."
Standing up, he was just about to race off, when Spiny, who had
been sniffing the air with his long thin muzzle, smiled widely and
said:
"I smell ant."
Ant nearly did faint then, but luckily at that moment Possum and
Platypus called out:
"Are you all right now, Spiny?"
"What ever was wrong with you?"
And Spiny answered: "I had an ant in my ear, but he's out now.
Ooooooh! and is he a nice fat juicy little fellow? Look at
him....Why, he's gone!"
Of course Ant had gone. The moment Spiny turned his head to
speak to the others he ran, quicker than an ant had ever run
before, till now he was far away, safe-hidden behind a pebble,
saying to himself:
"Let me see, have I still got my load? One speck of melon and
two blackberry seeds. Yes, they're all here. Well, I'll take them
home now for tea."
And he set off briskly for his nest, singing as he skipped
along.
Meanwhile, Spiny Ant-eater was poking his long thin nose about
in the dirt, and mumbling over and over: "Now where ever did he get
to?"
"Oh, don't fuss about one old ant, Spiny," grumbled
Platypus.
"He wasn't an old ant, Plat; he was a young one."
"Well, whatever he was, we've got to get going again. Don't you
want to find your fortune?"
"Oh yes, I'd like to find my fortune, Plat, but I'd like to find
that young ant, too."
"There are plenty of other ants. Come on! Oh, now look at
Possum; she's asleep!"
"No, Plat. I'm—only—half-asleep," yawned Possum. But
the boys saw she was stretched full-length along a branch with her
tail curled round it, and her furry cheek cushioned on a pink
paw.
"We'd better play our band; that's the only thing that can keep
you awake in the day-time," said Platypus. "Got your gum-leaf?"
"Er—er—!"
"Possum, don't tell me you've eaten your musical
instrument?"
"Well, yes, I—I ate that leaf. But there are lots more
leaves in the trees. I'll just get one. Would you like a new leaf,
Spiny? Oh, Platypus, just look at Spiny."
"Oh dear! Oh dear! What is he up to now?" groaned Platypus.
Plainly, Spiny was up to something. With that long muzzle of his
grubbing in the earth, he was running round and round in circles,
smiling happily and sometimes giving an excited whoop.
"Spiny! Spiny! Have you forgotten about our fortune? Leave
whatever you are doing and come on," shouted Platypus.
"Oh, I couldn't leave them, I really couldn't," answered Spiny.
"You come over here, Plat, and you too, Possum. I've found
something tip-top, and there's hundreds and dozens of them. And,
oh, come quickly or they'll get away."
And what do you think those four baby tortoises did the moment
they were hatched? Why, join all the other tortoises in the crazy
lace pattern, and go bobbing backwards and forwards, in and out,
round about in an ever-blending, breaking and mending, never-ending
design. Spiny poked his long thin nose in among them and shuffled
them about, while he said:
"They keep on running, but they don't run very fast."
Perhaps Spiny's nose poking at them annoyed them, or perhaps
they just grew tired of running round and round with no place to
go; but whatever it was, all the tortoises suddenly stopped dead,
and then went tearing off as hard as they could tear, over the
sandy ground to the creek, just as though a bell had rung, calling
them to dinner. The Cobbers shouted after them: "Hi, hi! Where are
you going? Come back!"
But the tortoises didn't come back, and anyone could see where
they were going. They even sang about it.
To water, to water, O!—O!—O!
Where water gleams that's where we go.
For water's wet is all we know.
Then race for the water, O!—O!—O!
And away raced the tortoises towards the little creek that shone
blue like a bit of sky that had fallen to earth. Not that the
tortoises ever really raced—at best their pace was a little
quicker than a snail and slower than a caterpillar—but if
anything could give them speed it was the sight of water. And soon
they were diving headlong into it while they sang:
To water, to water, O!—O!—O!
Where water gleams that's where we go.
This lovely water's wet! And so
We'll swim and we'll swim for all we know!
"They re swimming away. They're gone," groaned Spiny and
Platypus.
"Even the four babies have gone," moaned Possum.
But no, all the four babies hadn't gone. The last baby to pop
out of his egg was still there. He hadn't gore splashing into the
water with his brothers and sisters, because he just couldn't.
Spiny's long nose poking in among his relations had pushed hint
over on his back, and everyone knows that once a tortoise turns
upside down on his shell it takes all the king's horses and all the
king's men to put that poor tortoise together again, unless there
is a kindly possum close by to lend a helping paw, and say:
"Look at the poor little chap lying on his back.
Upsey-dupsey—over—over! There! Now you're right side up
again. What do you say?"
"Tank you!" lisped baby tortoise in a tiny just-out-of-the-shell
voice. "An' now I will go down to de water."
"But all the other tortoises have disappeared," said Possum.
"Oh!" said the baby, and his eyes grew very wide.
"Don't be miserable; I'll think of something you can do," said
Possum in her drowsy, gentle way, and she put her shaggy head on
one side, slowly scratched the white spot behind her ear and
considered what could be done. At last she scratched an idea and
said:
"He could come with us and seek his fortune, couldn't he,
boys?"
"If he'll be a cobber, he can," said Spiny and Platypus. "Will
you be a cobber?"
"Is it nice to be a tobber?" asked the baby.
"Why it's the grandest thing in the world. And you can seek your
fortune with us, too."
"Then, I'll be a tobber and seek my fortune. But it had better
be a good one."
"Off we go!" shouted the Cobbers gaily, and they started down
the track singing their favourite song:
To fortune-O! To fortune-O!
To find our fortune off we go...
Baby tortoise was a quick-witted little chap, but very slow on
his feet, so that every now and then the Cobbers had to stop to cry
to him:
"Come on, Tortie.
Hurry—hurry—flurry—scurry!"
And then that baby tortoise would come panting up to them, very
much out of breath and looking smaller and younger than ever. At
last Platypus said crossly:
"Get a move on, Tortie, and put your best toot forward."
But at that Tortie squatted bang down in the middle of the track
and hoisting up each of his feet in turn, held them close to his
shining eyes. Not noticing the cunning gleam in Tortie's little
eye, Possum asked:
"Why are you looking at your feet, Tortie?"
"I'm looking to see which is my best foot to put forward," said
Tortie in his teeny-tiny voice, and his teeny-tiny eye winked
cunningly.
"Tortie should really have a mother to tell him things," said
Possum, looking worried.
"Tortoises never see their mother," said Platypus, who seemed to
know all about it. "The old lady tortoise lays her eggs in the sand
by some water and then she covers them up and leaves them there,
and after a very long time the eggs crack and the baby tortoises
pop out, like Tortie here. So they never have a mother.
"Well, I could be a sort of mother to Tortie," said Possum
slowly.
"And Plat and I could be a sort of a father to him, couldn't we,
Plat?" cried Spiny.
"Righto, Spiny," said Platypus. "And now, Tortie, let's get
going."
"I can't walk till I find my best foot," gurgled Tortie, and he
looked more cunning than ever, but, of course, the Cobbers didn't
see it.
"Mother Possums carry their babies on their backs—" began
Possum.
"You could carry me, Possum," cried Tortie eagerly.
So the boys hoisted him up between Possum's shoulders, where he
snuggled down into the warm, brownish fur, well satisfied. The
Cobbers set off down the track, singing their travel song.
Tortie seemed to like riding pip a-back, except that he wanted
to slither off whenever he saw the tiniest gleam of water, so that
Possum had to cry to him:
"Hold tight, Tortie; it isn't time to swim yet."
On went the Cobbers, shouting their song:
To fortune-O! To fortune-O!
To find our fortune off we go.
And when we find it we will be
The merriest three you ever did see
To fortune-O To fortune-O!
We seek it night and day.
We know good luck is waiting us:
Possum, Spiny and Platypus.
But yippy-ho! And away we go,
Away, away and—
But suddenly the Cobbers stopped and Spiny cried:
"Ooo! Look, Plat; look, Possum; there on the track in front of
us! What is it?"
This conversation seemed silly to Platypus, who said in a fussy
voice:
"We know who I and me is. What we want to know is, who are
you?"
"I—I—," the voice choked and couldn't go on.
"What is your name?"
But at that the one who was weeping, wept louder than ever,
which nearly made the kind-hearted Cobbers weep, though Platypus
managed to say:
"Why are you crying louder?"
"You—made—me—cry louder."
"All I did was to ask your name," said Platypus.
"There you go again," cried the weeper, and off he went again,
sobbing louder than ever, till he got hiccoughs and nearly
choked.
The Cobbers were puzzled.
"What's wrong with a name that it should make you cry?" asked
Platypus.
"It's because my name calls me names, that's why."
Spiny snuffled wildly in sympathy. "What names does your name
call you, brother?"
"It calls me a—a—a bandy—coot."
"Oh! You're a bandicoot?" cried the Cobbers, grateful to know
even that much. There he was straight in their path, so sopping wet
with tears that he looked more like a heap of soggy leaf-mould than
a live animal.
"Boo-hoo!"
It seemed that Bandy's tears would never run dry: they kept
welling up into his eyes, and overflowing down his long nose, to
drip off his whiskers and go splash on to the ground. Soon he was
squatting in the middle of a large puddle which gleamed with the
wet gleam Tortie loved to see. Tortie's eyes began to gleam like
the water. He said "Oooo!" and then, quieter than a mouse,
slithered down from Possum's back, scampered over the ground to
Bandicoot, and took a header into the puddle of tears.
Possum cried: "Oh, look at Tortie," and went lolloping across to
make a rescue. Indeed, Tortie needed rescuing, for though turtles
may swim in salt water, tortoises like their water to be fresh, and
Bandy's tears were very, very salt.
"Quick, boys, lend a paw!" cried Possum.
"We're on the job, Possum!" cried the boys as they fished a
spluttering Tortie out of the tears.
Possum dried him with the brush of her tail, and set him high on
a sunny rock to warm up.﹃There, you needn't splutter any more,
Tortie dear. You're all right now,﹄she said kindly.
Meanwhile Bandy was so interested in the goings-on that he
forgot to shed one single tear. Platypus noticed this, and thought
it a good time to say: "We don't want to upset you again, but if
you wouldn't mind telling us, we'd really like to know why your
name makes you cry."
"Well—I'll—tell—you. But first look at me;
would you say I was bandy?"
The Cobbers looked at the sleek little chap, who was a little
bigger than a rat and a great deal smaller than a kangaroo, and a
bit like both of them.
"Well, would you say my legs were bandy?"
"Oh no," said the Cobbers, warmly.
"And—would you call me a—a coot?"
"Oh no."
"I'm not bandy and I'm not a coot, and yet to think I'm
called—a—a—"
"Don't think of it," warned the Cobbers.
"But it isn't only that my name calls me names," went on Bandy,
"they give me a bad name as well."
"How?"
"They say I spoil their gardens—and—and—that I
dig up their vegetables, and I never do, boo-boo!" And through his
sobs, Bandy sang:
I don't dig for veg'tables,
I don't dig for roots,
I never spoil a bud or fruit,
Or eat the tender shoots.
The little holes I make
Are quite misunderstood;
No one knows
I'm digging those
For reasons that are good.
"If you don't dig for vegetables or roots, what do you dig for?"
asked Platypus.
"For grubs and beetle-eggs and for trap-door spiders."
spluttered Bandy, and he sang again:
I don't dig for veg'tables,
I don't dig for roots,
I never spoil a bud or fruit,
Or eat the tender shoots.
My instinct tells me when
A spider is below.
I probe his trap,
Then—snappy-snap!
That spider's soon poor show.
But,
The little holes I make
Are quite misunderstood;
No one knows
I'm digging those
For reasons that are good.
"Well, we know now why you dig your holes," said the Cobbers,
"so don't fret any more."
"But I've got another reason for fretting. You see, I used to
have lots of aunties and uncles and a dear little cousin, but they
all went and left me just because I couldn't help crying when I
think of being called a—"
"Don't think of it," shouted the Cobbers.
And then they put their heads on one side while they thought and
thought how they could help their new friend. Platypus opened and
shut his duck's bill, but nothing came out of it, not even a quack.
Spiny snuffled furiously and waggled his long thin nose, and as to
Possum, she scratched the white spot behind her ear. At last she
said shyly: "I could be a sort of auntie to you, if you like."
And Spiny snuffled eagerly and said: "And Plat and I could be a
sort of uncle to you; and Tortie could be your dear little cousin,
couldn't you, Tortie?"
"If he cwied a puddle of fwesh water, I would," and Tortie's
eyes gleamed cunningly.
"And he can be our cobber and come with us and seek his
fortune," said Platypus. "So dry your eyes, cobber, that ought to
make you smile."
Then he and Spiny hoisted Tortie up on to Possum's back and they
all set off down the track. Bandy hopped along like a small
kangaroo behind the Cobbers, but only for a while. Presently he
stopped, sniffed, sighed, and the fountain of tears began to flow
again.
"Don't cry and I'll give you a gum-leaf," promised Possum.
"If he doesn't cry I'll give him a big fat ant," promised
Spiny.
"And I'll take him for a swim in the next pond we come to,"
promised Platypus.
But it was no use, even though Tortie, who was only as big as
one of Bandy's ears, jeered and said:
"Cwy Baby Bunting, Cwy Baby Bunting, and try to cwy fresh water
tears this time. Yah!"
And Tortie stuck out his neck and his tongue as well.
Luckily just them Spiny got one of his great ideas and shouted:
"I know what!"
"What, Spiny?" asked Possum and Platypus.
"If he didn't have that name he needn't cry."
"But he must have a name, Spiny."
"Oh, he'll have a name all right. Why, he can have any one of
three other names or all three of them if he likes."
"What are they, Spiny?"
"Yartini, Menaak or Kurkulli," said Spiny.
"But those aren't his names."
"Yes, they are. Those are the names the Aborigines call him:
Yartini, Menaak, or Kurkulli. Kurkulli's the best. Let's call him
Kurkulli. What do you say to that, Band—er—I mean, what
do you say to that?"
"Yah! Look at him smiling," piped Tortie.
And it was true. Bandy had wiped his eyes on his pointed ears
and his screwed-up mouth had actually straightened and stretched
out into a wide smile.
"Kur-kurkilli. I—I—like that," he stammered.
So off they all went once again. And it really seemed they might
get somewhere this time. But no, they hadn't gone very far when
Bandy stopped. "It's no use," he blubbered. "I can't go on. Leave
me. I'm not Kurkulli, not really."
"But you are," insisted Spiny. "Our Aborigines always call you
Kurkulli, Yartini or Menaak."
"But my name is really—"
"Don't think of it," cried the Cobbers.
But nothing they could do or say would make the weeping one weep
less or even agree to go with them. At last Platypus said:
"Perhaps he's only happy when he's crying. Anyway we can't stay
here all day; we have to seek our fortune."
So sadly they said goodbye. Slowly they turned down the track,
and then Tortie shamed the kind-hearted Cobbers by sticking out his
neck and yelling in his very rudest voice:
"Yah! You can call him Kurkulli or Yartini or Menaak, but I call
him Old Cwy Baby."
"Well, he's the bird that tells," said Tortie, making a
face.
"Yes, that's what the Aborigines say about him," said Spiny.
"You ask him, Possum."
But the little bird that tells had flown away, though not very
far. He hadn't gone further than three trees off, when he met Mrs.
Cockatoo and told her what he heard the three Cobbers say about
wishing they could fly. Mrs. Cockatoo, who was quite a motherly
soul, in spite of her loud shrill voice, said: "Oh well, I'll give
them a lesson. Where are they?"
Willie Wagtail pointed down to where the three shaggy creatures
lay stretched out beneath a coolabah tree.
"I see them!" shrilled Mrs. Cockatoo, swooping down to
earth.
When Tortie saw Mrs. Cockatoo coming he pulled his head in and
lay still as a stone, for he thought Willie Wagtail might have told
on him. But Mrs. Cockatoo came to help, not to scold.
"Which one of you wants to learn to fly? Do you, Possum?"
"Yes, please, Mrs. Cockatoo."
"Do you, Spiny Ant-eater?"
"Yes, please, Mrs. Cockatoo."
"Do you, Platypus?"
"Yes, please, Mrs. Cockatoo."
"Well, climb up a tree," ordered Mrs. Cockatoo, "all three of
you."
Away ran the Cobbers to the coolabah and, with many wiggles and
giggles, scrambled up the bole.
"Higher!" screamed Mrs. Cockatoo. "Higher! Higher!" And in spite
of Tortie's objections, the Cobbers did as they were told, till at
last Mrs. Cockatoo was satisfied, and said:
"That'll do. Now each of you get ready to jump."
"J-Jump!" stammered the boys, suddenly feeling frightened.
They shivered, and Tortie trembled so much he almost fell off
Possum's back. Then he crept up to Possum's ear and whispered into
its pink shell:
"Don't let that old bird fool you into twying to fly. 'Member
you have to look after me and I might get hurt."
Then, seeing Possum wasn't listening to him, Tortie gave the
pink ear a sharp bite.
Possum was listening to a new sound, a low, lovely twittering
sound, a sound that was filling the air as birds, more birds and
ever more birds came hopping, and jumping, tittupping and flying
over to the coolabah tree, to see what Mrs. Cockatoo meant to
do.
Mrs. Cockatoo greeted them: "Hello, pals! I'm just going to give
these three young animals a lesson how to fly."
"Fly?" tittered the birds, looking surprised.
"Yes," screeched Mrs. Cockatoo.﹃Why not? Now Possum, Spiny and
Platypus, listen to what I say,﹄and she sang in her high
voice:
When a little bird begins to fly
He stands on tippy-tip toe,
On the end of a branch be does a little dance,
Then jumps off and lets himself go.
He floats through the air with the greatest of ease,
That daring young bird on the breast of the breeze,
On the breast of the breeze he floats over the trees,
And that's how he learns how to fly.
And then all the birds joined in and sang in chorus.
"Now you know what to do, do it," commanded Mrs. Cockatoo, as
though it was just as easy as that.
Feeling very excited, the Cobbers each scrambled to the end of
the branch. So excited were they, they didn't hear Tortie yell:
"Hi, let me down out of this! Let me down!"
"Now animals, fly! And wall fly with them, pals," said Mrs.
Cockatoo. "One, two, three! Jump!"
"He floats through the air with the greatest of
ease,
That daring young bird on the breast of the breeze."
The birds went shooting—low, high—wheeling and
circling in the sky; skating and skittering on the
air—flying, flying. But as to the Cobbers. Yes, the Cobbers
could jump. But—
Bump! Bump! Bump!
"Ow!" yelped the poor old Cobbers.
Tortie yelled: "I told you so. I told you so. Lucky I'm not
hurt."
"I'm hurt, even though I fell light," wheezed Possum.
"I fell heavy," moaned Spiny.
"And I fell heavier," groaned Platypus.
"Well," said Mrs. Cockatoo, "you had a buster that time, but
better luck next time. Let us show them how to do it, pals. See,
you spread your wings like this and—"
But at that moment the mocking bird of Australia, perched on the
top of the highest tree, burst into laughter.
"Koo-koo, kee-kee! Trying to fly without wings, trying to fly
without wings!" and Kookaburra laughed till he almost split his
feathers. "Koo-koo, kee-kee, ka-ka, ka-ka!"
Then the round-eyed boys turned to a puzzled, dreamy-eyed Possum
and explained: "Oh, that's it, we have no wings."
"Yah, I could have told you that!" jeered Tortie.
But as for Mrs. Cockatoo and the rest of the birds, they said
nothing at all. Perhaps they felt a little foolish. Anyway they
flew off as quickly as could be. Picking themselves up, and dusting
themselves down, the Cob-bers turned their best front to the track
and went slowly off once more in search of their fortune, which
somehow seemed further off than ever.
Then, turning a corner, they met a view so sweet and smiling
that they, too, began to smile and quite forgot they were tired.
For Platypus saw the pool he had longed to see; and on a large grey
rock Spiny saw the biggest ants, and more of them, than even he had
ever hoped to see; and Possum's drowsy eyes flew open, for there,
before them, was the very gum-tree that had beckoned to her in her
dreams.
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried the happy Cobbers, bouncing up and down.
"We've found our fortunes; we've found our fortunes at last."
But suddenly a loud sound split the air. Platypus opened his
eyes and duck's-bill—and kept them open. Spiny hurriedly
wedged himself in under a rock, curling himself into a round ball.
And Possum went flip up into a tree, which annoyed Tortie so that
he called out:
"Hi! Do you want me to fall off your back and cwack my
shell?"
"Oh, no, Tortie dear," shivered Possum.
"Well, don't go leaping about like a fwog."
"But, Tortie, I heard a loud—Ooooo! There is it
again."
"Yah, that's only the wild dog, Dingo," sneered Tortie. "And
he's laughing."
And that's just what Dingo was doing; and doing it very loudly
as he came prancing out between the bushes.
"Ho-ho! Ho-ho! So here are the three world travellers come back.
Well, did you find your fortune?" he barked.
"We haven't come back," said the Cobbers.
"Haven't come back? Oh, that's a good one, that is," laughed
Dingo. "You're here, but you haven't come back," and he sang in a
jeering voice:
There was once a silly possum with rings on her
tail,
And a flea in her ear and water on the brain,
And she went to seek her fortune and she walked right out,
Then she walked back home again.
"Possum's not walking home." snorted Spiny.
But Dingo just stared at him with scornful eyes and sang:
There was once a silly creature with four funny
feet
And a long skinny nose that wagged across the track,
And he went to seek his fortune and he walked right out,
Then he turned and walked right back.
"Spiny's not walking back," shouted Platypus.
So then it was his turn to be glared at while Dingo sang:
There was once a silly Platypus. Ho, what a
sight!
Though he looked like a duck, he couldn't even quack.
And he went to seek his fortune with the first bright pair,
And with them he walked right back.
And throwing up his head and yelling with laughter, Dingo raced
off into the bush.
"What did he mean about us coming back?" asked Possum drowsily,
looking quite dazed.
Then Tortie, still clinging to Possum's back, as Possum clung to
the tree, stuck his neck out and spluttered into her pink ear: "I
know what he meant. And get down on to the gwound again. I'm a
tortoise, and tortoises don't climb twees."
So the ever-polite Possum came scrambling down, head first, the
way she always did, but this time she scrambled down so quickly
that Tortie lost his balance and hurled head-over-heels over her
ears.
"Oh, Tortie, dear, are you hurt?" cried Possum, hurrying to him
where he lay sprawled in the dust.
"This just about finishes everything, this does." And pulling
away from Possum's friendly paw, Tortie made a face, first at her,
then at Spiny, and then Platypus.
"Oh, Tortie!" exclaimed the surprised Cobbers.
"Never mind, I'll help him up on to Possum's back," said
Spiny.
"Yes, we'll have to get going to seek our fortune," said
Platypus.
"Yah! I'm not going," piped Tortie.
"Why, Tortie?"
"Yah, 'cause of what Dingo said. Dingo knows."
"Knows what, Tortie?"
"Dingo said I was bright. I wonder what he meant," drawled
Possum.
"He meant you were dumb," yelled Tortie, and made off, running
as fast as his short legs would carry him towards the pool. When he
got to the gleaming blue circle, he gave one loud whoop and jumped.
And that was the last the Cobbers saw of him for at least two
days.
"He—he—always did like water," murmured Spiny
sadly.
"He's only a baby. I hope he can swim," sighed Possum in a
lonely voice.
"All tortoises can swim," said Platypus,﹃just like all
platypuses can swim.﹄And he looked lovingly at the water.
Just then a round brown earthy door at their feet flew open and
a dark angry-looking spider stood in the doorway glaring at them as
she said:
"Ha! So it's the three crazy fortune-hunters back again, is it?
Well, did you find your fortunes?"
"I have just found my bigger pool," smiled Platypus.
"I have just found my bigger ants," smiled Spiny.
"And I have just found my greener leaves," smiled Possum.
"H'm, so you found them where you left them, did you? Do you
remember the song I sang to you when you were starting out? Well,
here it is again." And Mrs. Spider sang:
If another land you'd find,
Look around, look around.
What is it that you have found?
Only ground.
If a different pool you'd seek,
Think you oughta, think you oughta?
You will learn that every pool
Is only water.
So travel far and travel wide,
Till you lose your wish to roam,
Then creep—back—home.
"And so now you creep back home."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Spider, we're not going home. We're still away,
and have just found our fortunes," said the Cobbers.
"Not going home? Just look around, will you? Use your eyes and
ears. Shake the dust out of your eyes and the fur out of your
brains. You must have been travelling in a circle, your legs going
round, like your silly heads. Not going home? Take a look, a good
look." And running inside, she slammed her trap-door in their
faces.
The Cobbers stared, shook their heads, and said slowly:
"She said to—take—a—good—look."
And then a wonderful thing happened. For as the Cobbers looked
round they saw what they hadn't noticed before, that they truly and
really were back home. And it was as though they were seeing it for
the first time. Everything looked different and far more beautiful
than they had ever remembered.
"Why, why look! That biggest pool of all is my own home pool,"
squeaked Platypus.
"And—and—all those big beautiful ants are running
round my own home rock, and they're the biggest ever," gasped
Spiny.
"And, oh boys, that large gum-tree, the one with the sweetest
and greenest leaves in all the world, see, it is my very own home
tree," cried Possum.
And then those three fat, squat, fluffy-brained Cob-bers looked
at each other in round-eyed amazement, for they had suddenly
thought of something—which Possum said:
"Perhaps, home is best."
"Yes."
"Then we needn't have gone to seek our fortune at all," chuckled
Possum.
"No," giggled the boys.
The three cobbers laughed so heartily that all the birds stopped
singing, and every creature stopped doing whatever it was doing, in
order to listen. And when the last silvery tinkle of laughter
faded, the bush echoed to the cobbers' favourite song; but this
time it wasn't about going places, but about staying home:
To fortune-O, to fortune-O!
We'll stay at home for fortune-O;
And now we've found it we will be
The merriest three you ever did see.
To fortune-O! to fortune-O!
We sought it night and day,
We knew good luck was waiting us:
Possum, Spiny and Platypus,
So yippy-ho for fortune-O.
Hurray, hurray and hurray!
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