Blinky Bill

by Dorothy Wall

  “No, only the stealer of it,” Splodge replied. “Here — hand it over while I taste it to see if it’s perfectly fresh.”

  Blinky handed over the big crisp cabbage not without some misgivings. Splodge pulled a juicy leaf and quickly gobbled the dainty; the second and third leaves disappeared in the same way with startling rapidity.

  “Here! You’ll have the lot if you don’t stop,” Blinky shouted indignantly, making a grab at the cabbage.

  “The outside leaves are no good for guests, and I’m only eating them,” Splodge replied, holding the cabbage at a safe distance from Blinky, “You shin up the tree and tell your mother to come down and have a look at it, Besides, I want to talk business with her.”

  “Don’t you eat another leaf, or I’ll not be responsible for my actions when I come back,” Blinky said as he started to climb the tree.

  “Stuff and nonsense!” Splodge mumbled to himself as he crammed his mouth full of cabbage. “I’ll just taste one more leaf, from the heart, and then I’ll not touch another.” Saying this, he pulled apart the creamy heart of the cabbage and instantly gobbled half of it. The remainder looked very silly indeed, so he decided to finish it, and be done with the whole affair. “A half cabbage will only cause ill-feeling and jealousy — so here goes!” Splodge added. And away went the last little particle of that beautiful green cabbage. “The very idea of stealing a cabbage!” he said to himself. “That’ll be a lesson to young man Blinky. I can’t bear the thought of him stealing.”

  In a few minutes Mrs Koala, Nutsy and Blinky stood in front of him.

  “Stuff and nonsense!”

  “Where’s the cabbage?” Blinky demanded, glaring at Splodge.

  “I decided it was best to destroy it,” Splodge explained. “Stolen goods only cause trouble.”

  “I hope you have the biggest and longest stomachache you’ve ever had in your life,” Blinky shouted with rage.

  “I think you might have waited until we could hold a consultation over the cabbage,” Mrs Koala remarked, looking at Splodge. “After all, it was my son’s cabbage and not yours.”

  “We’ll say no more about it,” Splodge replied, dismissing the subject with a wave of his paw. “More urgent business requires our attention.”

  “What’s that?” Mrs Koala inquired.

  “This place wants pepping up,” Splodge said impressively. “Amusement for the guests — parties, dances, excursions, picnics, and a bit of whoopee here and there.”

  “I’d like to give you a bit of whoopee here and there,” Blinky said still glowering at Splodge.

  “That’ll do!” Mrs Koala said sternly, giving her son a gentle push.

  “I think we’ll adjourn to my office, Mrs Koala, and discuss the matter in quietness and privacy,” Splodge said, ignoring Blinky and Nutsy.

  “Quite so, quite so,” Mrs Koala replied. “Blinky — you and Nutsy play about for a little while, until I call.”

  “Come on, Nuts, let’s go for a walk,” Blinky whispered. “That Splodge is the greediest gobbler I’ve ever seen.”

  “Can’t we get another cabbage?” Nutsy asked. “I’m sure Mrs Koala would like one.”

  ” ’Course we can! We can get dozens of ’em,” Blinky said with a worldly air. “We can get carrots and potatoes too — and Mrs Scratchet’s basket as well.”

  “What a surprise Mrs Koala will get,” Nutsy said excitedly.

  “Come on, let’s hurry,” Blinky replied, running ahead through the bush.

  It was moonlight. As the two little bears approached Farmer Scratchet’s house, they saw a light gleaming in the window.

  “He’s in bed,” Blinky whispered. “We’ll crawl round to the laundry first and get the basket.”

  Nutsy was trembling with excitement. “Has he a dog?” she asked.

  “He’s chained up, and besides, he’s a friend of mine,” Blinky answered.

  Nearer and nearer they crept towards the laundry. The door was open and everything looked very simple and easy. A few more steps and they stood in front of the door. There was the clothes-basket, full of linen on top of the copper.

  “We’ll have to tip all that rubbish out,” Blinky remarked. “I’ll get up on top of the copper and throw the stuff down. You be ready to help me down with the basket.”

  “Well, hurry up,” Nutsy said nervously. “Someone might catch us.”

  “We’ll have to tip all that rubbish out!”

  Almost immediately Farmer Scratchet’s dog began to bark.

  “He’ll catch us! He’ll kill us!” Nutsy whispered. “Hide in the copper.”

  “Come on then,” Blinky said excitedly. “Hurry up or he’ll be here.”

  The two little koalas scrambled into the copper, pulled the lid over them, and lay there with hearts thumping, while Farmer Scratchet’s dog barked furiously.

  “Lie down!” a voice roared from the house; but the dog still kept barking.

  In a few moments heavy footsteps came padding down the path.

  “What’s all the noise about?” Farmer Scratchet demanded.

  The dog barked and tugged at his chain.

  “I’ve a good mind to let you off,” Farmer Scratchet said.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Blinky said softly.

  “Tell him not to,” Nutsy whimpered.

  “Be quiet,” Blinky ordered. “We’re as dead as turnips if he finds us.”

  Nearer came the footsteps, and then — horror of horrors, Farmer Scratchet came into the laundry.

  “If there’s anyone about he’s in here,” Farmer Scratchet said under his breath as he turned over boxes, moved the gardening tools, looked behind the door, and actually in the clothes-basket.

  “That dog’s a fraud!” he exclaimed. “Yap, yap, yap, and no cause for any of it. For two pins I’d give him to the butcher.”

  Blinky gave Nutsy a nudge. They held their breaths, not daring to make the slightest sound.

  “Kerchoo!” Farmer Scratchet sneezed, making the windows rattle, and nearly, very nearly killing the two little bears with fright.

  “A plague on that dog,” he said loudly and crossly.

  “Here am I catching my death of cold, all through his yapping. Bed’s the best place for me!” Saying this he stamped out of the laundry and to Blinky’s and Nutsy’s delight, hauled his dog, chain and all, round to the front of the house.

  “Isn’t he kind?” Blinky giggled as he and Nutsy wriggled out of the copper.

  “I think I’m going to faint,” Nutsy said weakly.

  “I’ll push you under the tap if you do,” Blinky said sternly. “Just you try any of those silly tricks and you’ll soon be sorry. Get down on the floor while I empty the basket.”

  Nutsy did so, without any further comment, while a shower of linen came hurtling through the air. Piles of it flew in all directions, and finally the basket arrived after a good kick from Blinky on top of the copper.

  “Look out for your shins!” he called as the basket toppled at Nutsy’s feet.

  In another few seconds both little bears were tugging and pushing the cumbersome basket out of the door and over the lawn. Under the fence, and across the paddock to where the vegetables grew, they heaved and tugged, determined to accomplish their mission. Farmer Scratchet’s best piece of rope, that he always used for hauling logs and iron about, was the cause of at least half an hour’s tussle, as Blinky and Nutsy came upon it lying on the ground. They lifted and grunted, sighed and heaved, as they pushed it into the basket, then off once more to the cabbage patch.

  “It’s no use taking more than one cabbage, and one potato, and one carrot,” Blinky said puffing. “We’ll never get home if we do.”

  “I wish Splodge was here,” Nutsy remarked. “We could harness him to the basket and drag home lots of cabbages then.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Blinky said looking at Nutsy. “But he’s not to be trusted after what happened to the last cabbage — besides, he’ll say it’s stealing, and we’re onl
y borrowing.”

  “But he’d be such a help,” Nutsy persisted. “I could run home and get him while you fill the basket up, ready to pull off when he comes.”

  “If I get him he’ll have to promise not to eat our things, and not to growl,” Blinky answered, “and that means — we’ve got to get the rope out again.”

  Nutsy was already in the basket trying to heave the rope out. They pushed and poked, puffing and grunting until the rope lay on the ground.

  “Go for your life,” Blinky ordered, “and don’t be long, ’cause Farmer Scratchet might come around again.”

  Nutsy flew along the track, while Blinky pulled up carrots and potatoes by the dozen. Into the basket they went, with six fine cabbages perched on top. By the time he’d completed his job, Splodge and Nutsy came in sight, Nutsy perched on top of her friend’s back, while he made big bounds over to where Blinky stood.

  “What game is this?” Splodge demanded looking as cross as he possibly could.

  “Private business,” Blinky replied loftily. “If you care to drag this basket home you’ll be paid with one potato.”

  Splodge was speechless. Such impudence — and from so small an animal too.

  “Hook your hind legs to the basket with this rope,” Blinky began to command.

  “Now look here, my young fellow. I’m not hooking any of my hind legs to any baskets for any one for only one potato,” Splodge said definitely. “One potato, one carrot, and one cabbage is my price. Take it or leave it.”

  “It’s overcharging,” Blinky announced sternly, “but I’ll have to hire you.”

  Not a word was mentioned in regard to stealing as Splodge licked his lips while helping Nutsy and Blinky to tie the rope to the basket handles, and then loop it over his shoulders.

  “You and Nutsy had better get in the basket too,” Splodge said as he eyed the load, which to him was a mere trifle.

  “Hooray!” Blinky shouted. “Come on, Nuts, now for a joy ride.”

  Up the two of them scrambled, perching themselves between cabbages and clinging to the basket sides.

  “All aboard?” Splodge called. “Off we go!”

  With a tremendous jerk the basket bounded off the ground. Bump, bump, bump, over the paddock it went, Splodge leaping ahead, while Blinky and Nutsy were bounced about among the cabbages and potatoes.

  Round the corners they bounded, in and out of the trees, missing branches and rocks by a hairbreadth. Mrs Rabbit and her toddlers were out for an evening stroll. She looked with amazement at this new kind of danger that came tearing along the bush track, then with one startled scream called her babies to her side, and she and they dashed into the undergrowth away from the hideous monster.

  “It’s enough to turn all my children cross-eyed,” Mrs Rabbit panted, as she lined her babies up under cover of a big gum-tree and examined each carefully.

  Meanwhile Splodge and Co. went bounding along. “The quicker home, the quicker I’ll get my cabbage,” Splodge thought. Mrs Koala up in the tree could not believe her eyes as she saw Splodge and the contraption come tearing through the bush.

  Wallop, wallop, wallop, they came, amid calls and shouts from Blinky and Nutsy.

  Down the tree Mrs Koala scrambled, nearly slipping in her excitement.

  Splodge came to a standstill, streams of puff coming from his nostrils.

  “Look what we’ve got!” Blinky shouted.

  “Potatoes and carrots and cabbages!” Nutsy shouted at the same time.

  Bump, bump, bump — over the paddock it went.

  “’Pon my soul!” Mrs Koala exclaimed. “And how am I going to pay for it all?”

  “It’s all borrowed!” Blinky replied, dancing up and down, “and the basket too — and the rope.”

  “’Pon my soul!” Mrs Koala repeated. She was amazed.

  “Of course we’ll have to return the basket and rope,” Splodge explained, “but I don’t see how we can manage about the vegetables. Anyhow, there’s acres of them over at Farmer Scratchet’s going to waste — sheer waste — and just asking to be picked and eaten. It’s a kindness to do it.”

  “Quite right,” Mrs Koala agreed. “I never can understand humans allowing fields and fields of cabbages and carrots to remain there, week in and week out.”

  “’Pon my soul!”

  CHAPTER 17

  Putting “Pep” in Things

  LL through the night Splodge, Mrs Koala, Blinky and Nutsy worked at top speed. The whole place was transformed. From a stout limb of the gum-tree dangled a rope, on the end of which Mrs Scratchet’s basket swayed to and fro not far above the ground. At the foot of the tree, neatly arrayed in rows, lay the carrots, potatoes and cabbages, interspersed with watercress and gum-leaves. A large notice bravely planted in the heart of the largest cabbage bore the following words for all the bush folk to read:

  Mrs Koala feeds her guests on these things.

  Take a good look. Have a good sniff

  (no tasting allowed). Then order your meals

  and beds from the manager.

  P.S. Under no circs need snakes apply. Ants

  may apply for employment as garbage removers.

  Signed, SPLODGE,

  Manager of this concern

  Either the smell of the good things to eat, or that strange thing called bush telegraphy, had the effect of bringing animals of all descriptions from all corners of the bush. They peered and sniffed with their noses against the vegetables, dangerously close to their mouths. But Splodge had his weather eye open. When he found an animal a little too interested in the cabbages or carrots, he smartly rapped the offender on the back with the order:

  “Sniff and move on, please,”

  Guests were booked in bunches. The climax came when Farmer Scratchet’s old plough horse wandered upon the scene.

  “How much for dinner?” he asked Splodge.

  “Sorry, sir, we’re full up,” Splodge replied thinking very quickly. One dinner for Mr Plough Horse would mean no dinner for anyone else.

  “Fine cabbages you have there,” Mr Plough Horse remarked nodding in the cabbages’ direction. “They’re mighty like Farmer Scratchet’s, the ones I helped to plough in.”

  “They’re first cousins,” Splodge replied without twinking a whisker.

  “Fine cabbages you have there,” Mr Plough Horse remarked.

  “Look here, my boy!” Mr Plough Horse said under his breath, thrusting his nose right into Splodge’s face, “you give me a couple of carrots, or I’ll let Farmer Scratchet know about this — cousins or no cousins.”

  “I don’t usually bribe people,” Splodge said haughtily, “but business is business and I hate the way you snoop around, so take a couple of carrots and go. Mind you — if I catch you holding private conversations with Farmer Scratchet it will be a bad day for you.”

  Mr Plough Horse gave a loud long neigh and grabbed the carrots between his teeth.

  “I hope they get stuck in his wind-pipe,” Splodge said to Mrs Koala who had been standing by, nervously watching the whole business.

  “He’s a pimp!” Blinky shouted, “We all should chase him off our premises.”

  Amid an uproar of growling, screeching and howling, Mr Plough Horse was sent about his business. After that everything proceeded quietly. From a branch of the gum-tree Nutsy, at a given signal from Mrs Koala, rang the dinner-bells, that is to say, she waved a pawful of Christmas bells backwards and forwards, making the sweetest tinkle imaginable.

  “Hooray!” the guests shouted. “Hooray for a gobble!” All the eatables had been carefully hoisted up in the basket on to the biggest limb of the tree and there they were in full view of the guests below.

  As the dinner bell sounded, a wild scramble up the tree commenced by those who were able to climb, while the birds flew like darts up on to the bough.

  “What’ll we do?” Mrs and Mr Wombat wailed.

  “And me too?” Mr Wallaby echoed.

  “You’ll go up in the basket,” Blinky excla
imed triumphantly, as he proceeded to grab the rope. “Get in — one at a time, and no pushing and shoving,” he ordered.

  “Ladies first,” Mrs Wombat simpered shyly as she waddled towards the basket.

  “Hurry up and get in,” Blinky shouted.

  Very clumsily Mrs Wombat fell into the basket with a shrill little scream.

  “Let her go!” Splodge said beckoning to Blinky to haul at the rope.

  He hauled and hauled, pulled and tugged; but the basket didn’t budge an inch.

  “You’re the fattest wombat I’ve ever met,” Blinky said crossly, the perspiration running down his nose.

  “He’s insulting me!” Mrs Wombat complained in a whining tone.

  “I’ll soon fix it!” Splodge remarked, bounding over to the basket. “Let me there, Blinky, and when I say ‘Go!’ pull with all your might.”

  “Get ready!” he shouted. “Now — go!”

  With a rush Splodge sprang away in the opposite direction, the rope well around his shoulders. Up shot Mrs Wombat in the basket, while Blinky was tumbled over and over in the rush. Away the basket went, right up to the dining-room in the tree. Mrs Wombat gave a nervous shriek then, grabbing the limb of the tree with all her might, she pulled herself out of the basket and sprawled all over the cabbages.

  “A most awkward landing,” Mrs Koala remarked as she rushed forward to grab her guest, while the basket went whizzing to the ground again, ready for the next passenger.

  With a rush Splodge sprang away in the opposite direction.

  All were hoisted up in time, not without great excitement and many howls of dismay as the basket swung perilously near to going over the limb on occasions; but no accident happened and everyone was elated when the sign to start dinner was given.

  It was a strange sight. Never before in the history of bushland had wombats, wallabies, kangaroos, rabbits and such-like ground animals, had the pleasure of dining up in a tree. The chatter and grunting was deafening. Shrill calls from the birds only accentuated the din. The whole bush rang with mirth.