Blinky Bill

by Dorothy Wall

  “There he is!” Blinky whispered excitedly, poking his mother in the ribs.

  “Sh-h!” she replied. “Keep very quiet. He has seen us.”

  “Do as I tell you and ask no questions. Don’t say a word,” Splodge whispered through the wire. “Stay where you are, and when I jump the fence scramble on to my back as quickly as possible. There are spies all around us, I’m sure.”

  Mrs Koala and Blinky watched with their hearts pounding as though they would burst.

  “Get ready! I’m coming!” Splodge whispered, and at the same moment sprang right over the fence of the compound and landed in the middle of the enclosure. He did it very silently and cleverly; but the other koalas in the trees nearly fell from the branches with surprise. Blinky and Mrs Koala made a wild scramble up Splodge’s back, gripping his ears and fur, determined not to fall off and waste time.

  “Hang on!” Splodge called out, “and look out for a bump.”

  “Hi! Hi!” Blinky cried as he felt himself being hurled through the air. Then, plonk! down on the ground Splodge landed, his little friends still gripping his fur for dear life. Away he bounded, down the path, and into the lantana bushes again.

  “Poosh!” he grunted. “That’s over. Now for the big fence and away to freedom.”

  Back in the compound twenty or more little koalas sat blinking at one another in sheer astonishment. They had nothing to say, as everything happened like a whirlwind and left them stunned with surprise. Even the old lady bear could not believe her eyes, and just sat and stared and stared.

  Splodge lost no time in looking about for a suitable place from which to make his big spring over the zoo fence. Blinky too, was busy helping to find a suitable place for escape. He scrambled about on his funny little legs, poking here and there and stumbling over the undergrowth in his hurry. He never was happy on the ground. The tall gum-trees were his element; he climbed those as easily as winking. Suddenly he stopped, clawed a paling in the fence, then forced a paw behind it.

  “What luck!” he whispered to himself. “It’s loose, and Mr Kangaroo can easily rip it down.” He hurried to Splodge.

  “Quickly! Come here! I’ve found a way of escape,” Blinky said.

  He showed Splodge the loose paling, and in a twinkling Splodge had his powerful claws at work, ripping away that paling and the next, until a gap was made that with a tight squeeze he could crawl through.

  “So much for fences!” he exclaimed with a grin, while his pretty brown eyes danced with joy.

  Mrs Koala and Blinky scrambled through with the greatest of ease.

  “Free! Free!” Splodge cried happily. “No more beastly peanuts and umbrellas; but the hills and the trees to roam in for the rest of my life.”

  “Yes, that’s all very well,” Mrs Koala replied quietly; “but we’ve got to get there yet,”

  “And we can’t fly,” Blinky interjected.

  “We’ll do the next best thing to flying. Hop on my back as quickly as you like, and I’ll do the rest,” Splodge laughed.

  “I knew you had brains, Mr Kangaroo,” Blinky puffed as he scrambled up his friend’s back.

  “My name’s Splodge!” that gentleman replied with a pleased look on his face.

  “What a nice name,” Mrs Koala panted as she finally squatted well up on her friend’s shoulders,

  “Well! I didn’t think I’d have company on my journey,” Splodge remarked as he made a bound.

  “Have you a speedometer?” Mrs Koala asked as they flew along at an incredible speed.

  “Not what you’d strictly call one,” Splodge replied. “But my tail tells me what speed I’m travelling at. Just now, it is over sixty miles an hour: it becomes slightly cold when I exceed that limit,”

  “Oh gracious!” Mrs Koala cried. “Please don’t go sixty miles an hour. I think speeding’s terribly dangerous, especially when you’re riding pillion and no brakes.”

  With a frightful jerk Splodge stopped dead. Mrs Koala screamed, while Blinky laughed.

  “How’s that for brakes?” Splodge inquired slowly, turning his head to take a look at his passengers.

  “Bosker!” Blinky cried, while poor Mrs Koala only gripped tighter than ever the clump of fur that saved her from a nasty spill. She gulped slowly and turned very pale, but said nothing.

  “Have you a speedometer?” Mrs Koala asked.

  “Well, off we go again!” Splodge called. “Grip tightly, because I’m going to make this trip a record. We must reach the bush by daylight unless we want to be recaptured.”

  It was not an easy matter to go bounding through suburban streets with blinding motor-car lights dazzling his sight, and evading curious policemen at street corners. But no motor-car travelled as quickly as Splodge. If he’d had a tail number-plate no policeman could have seen it in time, as Splodge simply flashed along the roads. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty miles were behind them in no time. As the night drew on tall gum-trees, wattles and scrub took the place of paved roads and houses. Deeper and deeper into the bush he pressed, slackening his speed only when necessary to avoid a dead tree that straddled his pathway. These he took with long graceful bounds, always to Blinky’s delight and Mrs Koala’s terror. They saw the trains in the distance rushing along like huge glow-worms, and heard the shrill shriek of their whistles. But all had only one thought in their minds, and that was to get as far into the bushland as possible.

  “This is where we branch off!” Splodge cried, slackening his speed. He turned his head from side to side, paused for an instant, stuck his nose out as far as possible, then took a long deep sniff, “We’re near the mountains,” he said cheerily. “I can smell the mist and creeks.

  Mrs Koala began to whimper.

  “Take us far, far away in them,” she pleaded. “Take us back to our old home. Take us away from men and zoos, and where I can make Blinky a good boy again.”

  “And please Mr Splodge take me where there are slippery gum-trees, the ones all smooth with no branches sticking out for a long way up, so’s I can have slides down them in the moonlight.”

  “Don’t do any such thing!” Mrs Koala ordered, changing at once from her sweet kind mood into an angry mother bear. “The very idea! And in your good knickerbockers too! Remember, my lad, I’ll have no monkey tricks when we get home. Obedience is what I’ll have — or look out!”

  “Don’t argue on my back!” Splodge exclaimed. “It makes me feel most uncomfortable when you two wriggle and twist about like a couple of snakes.”

  Harmony reigned again, and no further arguments took place. Splodge, travelling ever ahead into the mountains, only stopped occasionally to drink at clear running streams. Sometimes he dipped his nose in the water without drinking, just to feel the delight of the clear cold stream, just to make sure once more that he was back in the bush. Daylight was heralded by the laugh of the kookaburras and the glorious notes of the magpies. All bird-land awoke with song in its heart. The inhabitants of hundreds of trees and bushes set about the day’s task of looking for food, and what a joyous undertaking it was, judging by their song.

  “There goes old Wombo!” Blinky cried clapping his paws with glee. “Hullo! Old Wombo, we’re back!”

  “Hullo! Old Wombo, we’re back!”

  “So I see. So I see,” Mr Wombat stood by the side of the track he’d made through the bush on his many excursions when looking for roots and other delicacies to stock his larder with. “My cupboard’s empty or I’d ask you to breakfast with me,” he said sadly. “I’m getting old and can’t go far afield for my tucker nowadays; but I’m glad to see you back. Your home is just as you left it a year ago. Sometimes when I’ve seen strangers about I’ve ordered them on to other parts, always hoping you’d come back some day.”

  “That is kind of you, Mr Wombat.” Mrs Koala’s eyes filled with tears. How dear everything was in the bush, and how wonderful to be home again. “We’ll be giving a tree-warming as soon as I have time to settle down, and you must come along, Mr Wombat.”

>   “Gosh! don’t miss that!” Blinky interrupted. “I wish I’d brought you back some peanuts.”

  “They’re my favourite dish,” Mr Wombat said, licking his whiskers. “Pity you didn’t think of it. I hear that a man’s growing them over the next hill, and there’s acres and acres of them dying to be picked — but my old legs won’t carry me there. I smell them all right, and that makes me feel very sad.”

  “The look of ‘em makes me sick!” Splodge said crossly. He’d listened with great patience to this conversation, but could stand it no longer,

  “I’ll get you some peanuts,” Blinky said as he looked at Mr Wombat’s quivering whiskers.

  “Ah, you’re a good lad, Blinky. I always did say you were not as bad as they made out.”

  Old Mr Wombat shuffled off along the track, poking his nose here and there, sniffing for something that may have escaped his notice when last he was that way.

  “You’ll not steal those peanuts!” Mrs Koala said under her breath, as she grabbed her son’s ear. “Don’t you dare to steal one of them.”

  “No, mother,” Blinky said meekly. “It was only the look of old Wombo’s whiskers that made me say I would. They twitched so quickly when I said I’d get peanuts.”

  “Don’t look at them again — that’s all,” Mrs Koala replied shortly.

  “Good gracious! Here’s our home,” she cried almost in the same breath, “Look at it! Look at it! Just the same dear old tree — and not a branch missing.”

  “What about Splodge? Where’s he going to sleep?” Blinky asked anxiously as he slid off his back and ran to look up into Splodge’s face. “Can’t you climb our tree?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid I can’t. But I have cousins who could,” Splodge replied. “I’d rather camp on the ground at the foot of the tree.”

  “You’ll stay here and not hop away then?” Blinky asked.

  “I’m staying here for the tree-warming — after that I can’t promise.” Splodge lay on his side idly flicking his tail. “What joy it is to be home again,” his eyes said as they roved all over his surroundings. Meanwhile, Mrs Koala was making rather slow progress up the tree, followed by Blinky.

  “Don’t be cheeky, and don’t ruffle me!”

  “Move on, mother! You’re as slow as a snail,” Blinky remarked as he climbed up behind his panting parent.

  “Don’t be cheeky, and don’t ruffle me. I’m out of practice since being at the zoo,” Mrs Koala replied. “And I believe I’ve put on weight as well.”

  “You’re t-e-r-r-i-b-l-y fat from here,” Blinky remarked.

  “That’ll do! Not another word!” his mother snapped, as she eventually came to rest on a branch high up from the ground. “We’ll curl up for a nap here,” she said, settling down in the comfy fork of the branch.

  “But I don’t want to go to sleep,” Blinky protested.

  “Oh! bother you — run away and let me have forty winks. My patience is frayed.” Mrs Koala just nodded her sleepy old head and fell into slumberland, too happy to worry over her naughty son for once. Needless to say he took full advantage of this opportunity to explore his old home — with the most startling results.

  “Oh! bother you — run away.”

  CHAPTER 13

  The Tree-warming

  s Blinky Bill climbed higher up the tree his sharp little eyes noticed that gum-leaves had been picked and chewed very recently from the nearest limbs.

  “That’s funny!” he murmured to himself. “Someone’s been here stealing our supper. If it’s old Mrs Grunty I’ll have something very nasty to say to her. The cheek of her! Our very own tree, and our very own leaves!” He became quite angry the more he discovered the loss of the leaves.

  “It’s time we had a policeman in this bush. For two pins I’d turn policeman myself. Now I come to think of it that’s what I will do!” Suddenly a twig snapped, Blinky looked up like a flash; but there was no one to be seen.

  “Come out of it, you stealer!” he shouted. Silence as deep as the sea greeted his command.

  “Come out of it or I’ll eat you to death!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

  “Oh! don’t do that! Please don’t do that! I didn’t mean to steal leaves. I just wanted to taste them,” a frightened little voice replied.

  “Are you a girl?” Blinky roared, angrier than ever. “‘Cause if you are you’ll be dead in a minute. I hate girls.”

  “I’m not a girl. It’s only my dress that makes me look like one,” the little voice replied.

  “Show yourself at once! Do you think a fellow can hunt round this tree for hours looking for robbers?” Blinky shouted.

  “Here I am — please don’t eat me,” and the sweetest little girl koala poked her head around the tree not two yards away from where Blinky stood.

  “Hum-n!” he grunted. “You’re a girl. I can tell by the silly way you’re looking at me; besides, you’re too clean for a proper boy.”

  “I’m a boy!” the little bear said defiantly, stamping a tiny foot.

  “Do-you-wash-behind-your-EARS?” Blinky asked in a slow cold voice, trying to freeze his little visitor with a glare that would have made any bear shudder.

  “Of course I do!” the little koala replied indignantly.

  “Do you wash behind your ears?” Blinky asked.

  “Then that settles it! You’re a girl. No proper boy washes behind his ears. Come out here while I take you in charge! Don’t you know I’m a policeman and this is my tree?” Blinky advanced towards the little bear who stood too frightened to move an inch.

  “Don’t kill me, will you?” she pleaded.

  “I’ll see about that later on. What’s your name?” Blinky shouted, at the same time grabbing the little bear by the ear.

  “My name’s Nutsy,” she cried, tears trickling down her funny little nose, “I’m an orphan.”

  “An orphan! What’s that?” Blinky demanded.

  “I’ve no mother or father,” Nutsy wailed, “and no brothers or sisters. There’s only me.”

  “Well — you’ll have to be locked up just the same, because the law says ‘all animals, specially orphans, mustn’t steal’.” Blinky gave her ear a pull.

  “Stop it or I’ll bite you!” Nutsy exclaimed, shrieking at the top of her voice.

  Mrs Koala awoke, rubbed her eyes and listened, “What is that bad boy up to now?” she sighed. “Blinky! Come down here immediately.” She called her son with a decidedly angry voice.

  “Stop it or I’ll bite you!”

  “I can’t!” he replied, shouting. “I’ve found an orphan and she won’t come.”

  “An orphan!” Mrs Koala repeated loudly. “How did an orphan get in our tree? That’s that old Mrs Grunty! She’s been stealing our leaves, and cooking them — of all things. Well, she won’t get her orphan back. I’ll keep it for the tree-warming. It’ll be very useful to make a cup of tea in. Bring it down to me, Blinky. Has it any holes in it? Are they stuffed up with rag? Because if there are holes and rag I won’t use it.”

  “It’s an orphan — not a saucepan,” Blinky replied, shouting loudly.

  “What’s the difference?” Mrs Koala called.

  “It hasn’t a mother or father,” Blinky shouted.

  “No orphans have,” Mrs Koala replied. “Has it a handle?”

  “No! It’s got ears and eyes and it bites,” Blinky answered.

  “It’s an orphan!”

  “Good gracious! Hold it until I come up and have a look,” Mrs Koala cried excitedly, scrambling up the tree as fast as her old legs would go. “Dear, dear,” she panted.

  “What a strange thing an orphan is, I’ve never seen one before.”

  Grunting and puffing she reached the bough where Blinky and Nutsy stood. Taking one look at Nutsy she raised her paws in surprise and delight.

  “That an orphan! What nonsense! Why, it’s a little girl. The dear little thing! Come here darling while I have a look at you. And tell old Mrs Koala your name.”

  �
��She can’t. She’s under arrest,” Blinky roared.

  “Whatever for?” Mrs Koala inquired. “And who’s going to arrest her?”

  “I am!” Blinky replied, throwing out his chest. “She’s been stealing our leaves, so I’ve turned into a policeman and I’m going to lock her up.”

  “I’ll box your ears if you do any such thing,” Mrs Koala said stoutly. “And don’t talk rubbish to me. A policeman indeed! You’re my son. If there’s any locking up to be done, I’ll do it and you’ll be the first to taste it if you’re not careful.”

  “Gosh! Aren’t mothers awful?” Blinky sighed. “Can’t even be a policeman but what she spoils it. Go on, sweet little darling; go to the kind lady.” These last words he addressed to Nutsy, giving her a sly pinch as he pushed her forward. “I’ll make her sorry for being a girl,” Blinky muttered under his breath.

  “Well, if this isn’t a surprise!” Mrs Koala said, smiling all over her face, and gently taking Nutsy’s paw. “Won’t Mrs Grunty be jealous? And I’ve always wanted a little girl.”

  “Don’t tell stories, mother!” Blinky said angrily.

  “That an orphan! What nonsense! Why, it’s a little girl.”

  “You’ve always said you’re glad I’m a boy, and you wouldn’t have ten girls if they were given you.”

  “How stupid of me! I must have had a bad headache when I said that,” Mrs Koala replied. “Here — Blinky, help me to get this little girl down the tree.”

  “I don’t want him — he pinches,” Nutsy drew nearer Mrs Koala. “And anyway I can climb up and down by myself.”