Blinky Bill

by Dorothy Wall

And so, to this day that particular part of the lake is known as “The Widows’ Weeds”, and a jolly good fishing-ground it is too.

  Seeing the determined look in the mayor’s eyes the widows wisely said nothing more; but the old lady pelican, as she was retiring from the meeting, gave one of the aldermen a nasty dig in the side with her beak.

  “Put that down in your book,” she hissed. “South end of lake, reserved for widows only. And don’t let me catch any of you aldermen snooping around.”

  “A nasty individual!” the mayor whispered to the nearest alderman.

  The widows tramped as loudly as they could, leaving the meeting; snapping their beaks, tossing their heads, and causing as much commotion as possible.

  “We’ve avoided a rumpus,” the mayor said with relief. “And now gentlemen, we’ll discuss the important business of aviation. There’s been far too little gliding and soaring going on lately; we must keep our reputation of being the finest soarers in the bird kingdom.”

  “Let’s follow the widows!” Blinky whispered to Nutsy. “I’m not interested in soaring and nose-diving. Are you?”

  “I’d like to see them nose-dive with those big noses,” Nutsy remarked regretfully as she followed Blinky through the reeds.

  “We’ll see the real nose-diving if we follow the widows,” he said excitedly. “Keep in the shadows. Old mother widow will kill us if she sees us.”

  In and out of the reeds they stumbled and crawled, keeping at a safe distance from the widows. Suddenly, the procession halted.

  “What’s up now?” Blinky said.

  “Be quiet!” Nutsy whispered. “They’re talking.”

  The little koalas crept closer, and peeping through the reeds saw to their surprise a large flat sandy clearing at the lake’s edge. All the widows lined up with a great deal of chattering and pushing.

  “Contact!” the old lady pelican shouted.

  “My goodness! They’re going to fly,” Nutsy whispered.

  “The cheek of them!” Blinky said crossly. “How are we going to follow them?”

  Before they had time to discuss the matter, the old lady pelican shouted: “Soar!” and up the whole company of widows went.

  “That’s that!” Blinky said decidedly.

  “Look at them!” Nutsy exclaimed. “Aren’t they wonderful?”

  The little bears were held spell-bound as they watched the great birds soar higher and higher, with the most effortless, noiseless and graceful action, then away — away to the south they flew in formation.

  “Now we can’t see the fishing party,” Blinky wailed.

  “Yes we can! Yes we can!” Nutsy cried dancing up and down. “Look! They’ve landed again.”

  And sure enough they had; but it was fully a mile away.

  “Come on, let’s hurry!” Blinky said, scrambling ahead. Round the lake they bustled and into the reeds again, always keeping the widows in sight. It was a long journey for little legs not used to the ground; but the excitement of what lay ahead kept their courage up, and after many rests and many exclamations of “Oh!” and “Bother!” when they stumbled, they at last came within a few yards of the Widows’ Weeds. And weedy it was! Up to their knees amongst weeds of all descriptions, including beautiful yellow and pink water-lilies, the widows dabbled with their beaks. Filling their pouches with all kinds of rubbish, they cleverly washed away the unwanted collection, then tipping their heads back swallowed the fish.

  “Heck! I wish I had a fishing trap like that!” Blinky remarked, then laughed at the top of his voice.

  “Look at them!” he said, pointing to two pelicans who were quarrelling over a catch.

  One had her strong beak around the other’s neck, just like a pair of scissors, trying to force back a fish that the second one was swallowing.

  They tussled and wriggled, all the time the scissors held firmly round the victim’s neck. But the owner of the fish was quite determined not to lose her catch. After fully five minutes of this wrestling she gave a quick jerk with her head, released the grip of the robber and swallowed her fish.

  Frogs croaked in terror as they were gobbled up by the dozens. It was a great party for the widows. After the first excitement had died down, the fish became wise and swam farther into the lake. But the widows were prepared for this. Very quietly they waded out, forming a semicircle. The water was shallow, and great quantities of fish leaped in the air as they were pursued. Closing in, the widows began slowly to wade towards the shore, driving the fish before them. What a time they had! Each escaping fish was pounced upon and stored away in the pouch, until the pouch began to swell, then a quick jerk of the head, and many poor little fish went down a slippery dip into a dark tummy.

  Now, as the fish were driven right up to the edge of the lake, a great noise arose. Wings flapped, beaks opened and shut like lightning and the widows dined as they’d never dined since their husbands died.

  Nutsy and Blinky watched in silence. This was something they’d never seen before. For many hours they watched. Then, when the last widow had taken flight back to her home, two little koalas crept from their hiding-places.

  “I’m going to try to catch a fish,” Blinky announced.

  “Me too!” Nutsy replied.

  “Look out an eel doesn’t bite you,” Blinky said as he dipped one foot in the water, then the other.

  “I’m going to try and catch a fish.”

  But Nutsy was as brave as he. Carefully wading into the water, she showed Blinky that she was quite capable of looking after herself.

  “Don’t touch the frogs,” Nutsy called, “only the biggest fish.”

  “Clear out of here and let me get some sleep,” an irritable voice growled. “This poking about in the water all night long nearly drives me mad.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Who’s that?” Nutsy whispered.

  Blinky stood still, water up to his tummy.

  “Beg pardon!” he shouted. “What did you say?”

  “Clear out! Clear out! and let me get some sleep,” the voice came again.

  “It’s not your lake!” Blinky replied, “and we’ll fish in it if we want to.”

  Almost at the same moment he gave a howl of pain and surprise; then flopped right on his back into the water.

  “My toe! My toe!” he yelled. “Help me, Nutsy!”

  Nutsy waded as quickly as she could to where Blinky was floundering and yelling in the water.

  “Get up!” she cried with fright. “You’ll drown.”

  “I can’t,” he shouted. “Help me! My toe’s being bitten off.”

  “Here! Take my paw,” Nutsy half sobbed with fright. “I’ll pull you up.”

  Blinky grabbed with all his might, nearly pulling Nutsy down as well.

  “My toe!” he kept crying. “My toe’s gone.”

  “Put it up and let me see — quickly!” Nutsy said, trembling from head to foot.

  With a great effort, still shouting with pain, Blinky lifted his foot from the water. Just as he raised it, a great ugly red crab fell with a splash, back into the water.

  “Oh!” Nutsy gasped. “Oh! — Run for the shore or he’ll bite you again.”

  “I will, and you too, if you don’t clear out,” came the angry voice from under the water.

  “My toe! My toe!” he yelled. “Help me, Nutsy!”

  Struggling and splashing the two little koalas raced for the brink of the lake.

  “The brute!” Blinky cried. “The bad-tempered old thing!”

  “No cheek!” came a deep command from the mud.

  “Don’t answer him. Run quickly,” Nutsy said, still terrified.

  But Blinky remained just long enough to hurl a large stone into the water, then scuttled away as quickly as he could.

  “You’re asking for trouble,” Nutsy scolded. “Now we’ve all the way home to go, and you with a sore toe too!”

  “It’s not hurting! It never hurted!” Blinky remarked brazenly.

  Nutsy was not s
urprised to hear this. She sighed, and gently taking Blinky’s paw, they walked along, back past the pelicans’ meeting-place, where all was quietness, and into the bush track again.

  “Where are we going?” Blinky asked.

  “Home, of course!” Nutsy replied.

  “No I’m not!” Blinky announced, stopping in his tracks. “I’m going to see Mr Crocodile!”

  “You’re what?” Nutsy gasped.

  “Going to see Mr Croc!” Blinky said, not daring to look at Nutsy.

  “Do-you-know-what-he’ll-do?” Nutsy asked with deliberation.

  “Yes!” Blinky retorted cheekily. “He’ll say ‘Good day, Blinky! Would you like a ride on my back?’”

  “And would you go?” Nutsy asked in amazement.

  “I’m going to see Mr Crocodile!” “You’re WHAT!”

  “Rather!” Blinky announced. “It would be most citing.

  “You’re coming home!” Nutsy said sternly. “And you’re coming home with me.” She grabbed him firmly by a paw and started to drag him along the track. He lay on the ground and kicked.

  “You had, bad boy!” Nutsy scolded. “Wait till Splodge hears of this!” She started to struggle with him again, dragging and pulling the kicking little imp along the track.

  “Hey! What’s this?” a gruff voice demanded. “What’s all this dust kicking about?”

  Out on to the track stepped Mr Walter Wombat again.

  “He won’t come home! He says he’s going to see Mr Croc!” Nutsy cried. “And he’ll be killed for sure.”

  “Going to see Mr Croc, is he?” Mr Walter Wombat remarked in a cold voice, grabbing Blinky by the ear. “You’re going home my boy — that’s where you’re going,” he said sternly.

  “I was only pretending!” Blinky said sulkily. “Let go my ear or I’ll bite you.”

  Mr Walter Wombat shook Blinky until his teeth chattered. “Get home at ONCE!” he roared, releasing his grip on the little scallawag.

  Blinky scrambled away, far quicker than he thought it possible, Nutsy following.

  “You big tell-tale,” he said. “I hate girls!”

  Growling and grumbling he trotted ahead, a very tired and irritable little bear. Dawn was fast approaching. A dim grey light appeared in the east and the trees gradually shed their dark shapes of the night. The birds awoke, calling and singing their morning greeting. Rabbits scurried from their burrows in search of breakfast.

  “There’s our tree!” Nutsy cried. “I’m so glad to be home again — and there’s Splodge hopping about.”

  “I wonder where mother is?” Blinky remarked a little nervously.

  “I s’pose she’s up in the tree getting our breakfast ready, and crying and crying ’cause she thinks we’re lost,” Nutsy replied, looking very sad.

  “You don’t know my mother when she’s angry,” Blinky said with scorn. “She’s most probably getting a big stick ready to whack us with.”

  “Will it hurt?” Nutsy whimpered.

  “You bet!” Blinky replied, “specially if it’s a new green stick.”

  “Oh! I’ve never been whacked before,” Nutsy now began to cry in earnest.

  “Fancy crying!” Blinky scoffed. “It’s all over in a minute, and then my mother usually kisses me, and gives me the nicest gum-tips that she’s collected specially for the occasion. Besides — she’s not a bit grumpy for a long time afterwards. If I’m naughty right on top of the whacking she only says ‘Don’t do that, Blinky darling,’ or ‘Try and be a good boy now.’ So you see it’s worth the minute it hurts.”

  “But I don’t want to be hurt,” Nutsy howled.

  “S’pose I’ll have to let her into my secret,” Blinky mumbled to himself, “and it’s such a good secret too. Bother her!”

  “Stop howling!” he commanded. “Come over here and help me to collect some leaves.”

  “What for?” Nutsy asked between sobs.

  “For padding, of course!” Blinky remarked, looking with a very bored expression at his companion. “Hurry up, and don’t look so vacant.”

  Scratching a pile of leaves together, Blinky then began to stuff pawfuls down Nutsy’s little dress, then, when that had been completed to his satisfaction, he stuffed the back of his trousers with more leaves.

  “Won’t she notice how fat we look?” Nutsy asked doubtfully. “And I rustle terribly when I walk.”

  “She’ll be too cross to notice anything ’cept we’re back,” Blinky replied. “Come on, let’s get it over!”

  “You’re in for it!” Splodge remarked as he spied the two little bears.

  “Is she very mad?” Blinky asked hurriedly.

  “Ramping!” Splodge said waving his paws about. “I’ve never seen your mother so snaky before. She says she’s going to give you the biggest, soundest, hugest whacking you’ve ever had in your life.”

  “Gee!” Blinky whispered. “She must be mad.”

  Nutsy began to whimper again.

  “Stop that noise!” Blinky gritted the words out between clenched teeth. “Don’t you know you’re whack-proof?”

  “Fancy crying!”

  “Get up the tree as quickly as possible,” Splodge advised. “Every minute makes a difference.”

  Half-way up the tree Mrs Koala saw them.

  “My goodness!” she said in a quivering voice. “Wait until you get up here!”

  “We’re both sorry!” Blinky shouted, “and I’ll do all your messages for you if you want any.”

  “Come up here!” Mrs Koala commanded in cold tones. She reached down for Blinky’s paw and landed him up on the branch beside her with a jerk. Then Nutsy followed. Both little bears began to talk rapidly and offer explanations.

  “No excuses!” Mrs Koala said angrily, grasping a fresh green twig in one hand and Blinky by the scruff of the neck in the other.

  “No excuses!”

  “Get it over quickly!” he said, bending the well-padded region uppermost.

  Whack! Whack! Whack! came Mrs Koala’s stick. “That’ll teach you to run away!” she said, panting from the exertion. “Go up to the highest branch and don’t dare to move from there until I tell you.”

  “Yes, mother,” Blinky meekly replied, rustling alarmingly as he crawled away.

  “Are you going to whack me too?” Nutsy asked, looking at Mrs Koala with tears in her eyes.

  “I won’t this time,” Mrs Koala replied, “as I’m sure Blinky put the idea into your head; but next time I’ll do it, Blinky or no Blinky. Go over to that corner and stand with your nose in it until I get you to come away.” Mrs Koala pointed to the cosiest corner of the old gum-tree — a corner well overhung with nice green leaves.

  “The pet!” Blinky growled shrugging his shoulders as he climbed to his appointed place, then taking out the padding from his trousers, flung the leaves in a shower right on top of Nutsy.

  “What’s that?” Mrs Koala demanded, looking at the pile of leaves.

  “It’s only the tree moulting,” Blinky explained, screwing his nose up at Nutsy, who was watching him out of the corner of her eye, not knowing what was going to happen next.

  “Pet!” he hissed at her. “I hope those leaves in your dress prick you most dreadfully.”

  Forgetting that Mrs Koala might be watching, Nutsy began to pull out the leaves.

  “Are you going to whack me too?”

  Mrs Koala coldly watched the proceeding until it was over, then, stepping over to where Nutsy stood, asked in a slow deliberate voice, “What is the meaning of this?”

  “That’s the whack-proof!” Nutsy said trembling.

  “The what!” Mrs Koala exclaimed, a glint of anger reappearing in her eyes.

  “We’ve brought you back padding for the guests’ beds!” Blinky called out from above, where he’d been watching everything in suspense.

  “How thoughtful of you,” Mrs Koala said, her anger changing immediately to joy. “Just what I needed, as Mrs Possum is coming to-morrow and she was most emphatic that I should
prepare a soft bed for her.”

  “I can get you plenty more,” Blinky shouted, “only of course, I’ll have to come down and get them off the ground.”

  “And I could help him!” Nutsy said instantly.

  “I don’t want any help!” Blinky shouted.

  “Well, I don’t see why you both shouldn’t help me,” Mrs Koala replied. “After all, that’s what children are for. Both of you go down and bring me up as many leaves as possible. Altogether, I’ve ten guests arriving tomorrow, and clean, soft beds are most necessary. My manager told me that!”

  Mrs Koala spoke with a note of pride in her voice. The two little bears took no notice of this last part of her conversation, as they weren’t a scrap interested in the guests’ beds. All they wanted to do was to get down on the ground and collect leaves. It was much nicer than being confined to one spot.

  Mrs Koala fussed and fussed about, poking and patting corners into cosy beds, while Splodge gave orders to Blinky and Nutsy who collected piles of leaves. Up and down the tree they climbed until Mrs Koala was satisfied that all lumps and bumps in the beds had been padded so well that all the guests would be most comfortable. Then a supper of leaves for themselves, eaten between calling out remarks to Splodge who sat at the foot of the tree, completed all arrangements.

  Much to Blinky’s and Nutsy’s relief, Mrs Koala never mentioned the running-away again.

  CHAPTER 16

  The Guest House

  OWARDS evening of the following day the guests began to arrive. First of all came a most distinguished gentleman, Mr Tree-Kangaroo. He was cluttered up with luggage — all attached to his tail, by the way — and judging from his appearance he had come a long way. “A-hem!” he coughed, as he approached the manager’s office, where Splodge sat on a flat rock, underneath the bough of a pretty sapling. A large book and pencil lay before him on the stump of a tree.

  “Is this the ‘A Home Away From Home’, guest house?” Mr Tree-Kangaroo asked, looking disdainfully down his nose at Splodge.

  “Yes, sir!” Splodge replied politely. “Are you seeking accommodation?”

  “Yes, providing the house is select and no gay parties at night,” Mr Tree-Kangaroo said with a look upwards to where Mrs Koala was busily engaged preparing the supper.