The Shamrogues

by Patrick Meehan

  “Rogues,” he continued. “I had a wonderful dream about tiny rogues who were given magical powers long ago, and who have come to help save our planet from doom.”

  “SPLLAAADOP…SPLADDOP!” sounded as Trom’s arms and feet emerged and his eyes popped open. He waggled a finger at Mulligan, who remained sitting on the ground.

  “Harump! Cease all this rogue stuff. We’re nothing of the sort. Rogues are inclined to be bad, while we are the very opposite. We’re good and are known as Shamrogues. And, even though you are big and strong, and look somewhat strange, I detect you’re also a good person.”

  Mulligan had stopped laughing, and stared with an expression of wonder on his face. For, although he had rightly guessed that the children carried something more than stones, he had never in real life seen anything like the creature who now spoke to him. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was not, in fact, dreaming. Slowly, he got to his feet and approached the children. Just then, there were more sounds as the rest of the Shamrogues shook off their disguises.

  The spectacle halted the big man in mid-stride. He studied the five creatures. “Well, blow me down with a puff of desert wind! What a wonderful sight. I thought I’d never see the day when I’d make the acquaintance of such celebrated company. Come…. You must join me for a cup of tea in my humble abode.”

  “We should really be getting back,” Conor said, looking at his wristwatch. “We’ve been gone nearly three quarters of an hour.”

  “Gawney,” Niamh complained. She had taken a liking to the gentle giant of a man. “It will only take us five minutes to get back to Mam and Dad.”

  “Anyway, they’re not going to go bananas if we’re a few minutes late,” Sinéad remarked.

  “Okay then,” Conor agreed. “We can visit eh…Mr eh…Mulligan for a short while.”

  “Just call me Mulligan, kids. There’s no need for any formalities in this big forest. Here, can I carry one of your tiny friends?”

  “Me! Take me!” Glic insisted, and leaped from Niamh’s hand straight into the huge palm that Mulligan held out.

  They went into the cavern and found that the big man had made the place quite comfortable, although the furniture was all made from wood or carved stone. The children sat on three-legged stools, while the Shamrogues sat in a row along a slab of silver granite that glistened in the glow of the fire.

  Mulligan poured some water from an earthen urn into a billycan that was blackened on the outside, and placed it straight on the fire. As it boiled, the children were able to take in their surroundings. Without the screen covering the entrance it was quite easy to see around, and they noted that a narrow passageway led further back into the hillside. An old storm lantern hung on a peg that had been hammered into the stone wall, although it was not lit. There were two tables made of rough timber, and a low wooden bed with coarse woollen blankets folded and stacked neatly at one end. Then there were wooden carved plates and mugs, and even wooden knives, forks and spoons. The big man noted they were interested in his simple utensils, and smiled.

  “Made them all myself,” he said as he sat on an ornately carved stone seat, with swirls and spirals chiselled all over its surface.

  “Brilliantly done,” Gorum remarked, obviously impressed.

  “Yes,” Trom declared. “To work in such unison with Mother Nature is a great thing. But simplicity such as you’ve achieved by using wood and stone is sometimes the most complex way of all. Mankind has so much to offer in return for Earth’s bounty.”

  By this stage, the aroma of the tea filled the cavern with a delicious smell as it bubbled in the billycan. Mulligan poured the steaming liquid into four wooden mugs. He gave one to each of the children and kept one for himself.

  “You can cool it by adding some cold water,” the big man advised.

  “Nice and refreshing,” Sinéad said.

  The smell was getting to Gorum and he squirmed as it teased his nose until he could no longer bear the urge to taste the brew. “I wonder, would it be possible for me to try some?”

  “Why, of course,” Mulligan laughed. “It’s foolish of me not to have thought you might like some. Just didn’t occur to me…”

  “We’ll all have a drop, if there’s enough,” Trom suggested.

  “Plenty,” Mulligan said. “And I think I may have just the right things to put the tea in. Now, let me see…”

  The big man leaned backwards and grabbed hold of a canvas bag which was beneath one of the tables. He opened it and searched inside.

  “Chestnut shells cut in half should do the trick. All these things I’ve made and kept in the hope of such a visit as I’m enjoying today. Your company is most welcome. You see, I live here alone, apart from my companions, the animals of the forest.”

  Mulligan poured the tea into the shells and distributed them.

  “MMMMMMmmmmmm,” the Shamrogues murmured as one. “This is great. We could very easily get used to this.”

  “My pleasure,” the big man said as he stoked the embers and threw on some firewood. Sparks rose and touched the ceiling of the cavern.

  “Why are flies hanging from your hat?” Niamh asked. She put her mug down, having drained its contents, and rested her chin in the palms of her hands.

  “To keep away the flying corks, of course,” Mulligan simply replied.

  The children glanced at one another with raised eyebrows but said nothing about his answer.

  Then Sona spoke. Something that sparkled and something white that hung from the man’s neck on glistening chains had caught her eye. She pointed. “What are those?”

  Mulligan’s smile escaped from between his moustache and beard. He peered down. “These, my friends, are relics from long ago.”

  “Like us!” Glic said, tittering. “We’re from long ago.”

  There was a round of giddy laughter, Mulligan laughing the loudest.

  “Relics?” Niamh continued when things had quietened down a bit.

  “Yes,” Mulligan replied. “This one here is an amber stone with an insect inside. It was once ordinary resin, sap that oozed from a tree. This unfortunate insect got stuck in it and then more resin covered it over. It took thousands and thousands of years to finally become a fossil. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  He leaned closer so that they could all have a better look. “Yes,” they readily agreed.

  “And the other one?” Gorum inquired. “It appears to be quite sharp.”

  “Well, this is actually the fossilised tooth of a wondrous animal that roamed the earth long ago in the past, and then became extinct.”

  “That’s two animals we’ve heard about today that have become extinct. If that goes on, there’ll be none left!” Sinéad said.

  “But what kind of animal did that belong to?” Croga folded her arms, an interested expression on her yellow face.

  “It comes from the mouth of the fierce sabre-toothed tiger. It’s one of his sabre teeth, though it’s quite dull and discoloured now and has none of its former sharpness. This animal was a member of the cat family and about the size of a mountain lion. The earliest was known as Hoplophoneus.”

  The three children exchanged excited glances. The tongue-twisting word had conjured up a memory for them.

  “That sounds like what Trom said to Niamh the first time we met the Shamrogues,” Conor enthused. “Isn’t that right?” he addressed the leader.

  “Hibbly! Hopplepop! Harump!” Trom corrected and chuckled. “It means ‘Stop, approach no further’!”

  They all lapsed into silence, each in their own thoughts.

  Mulligan gazed into the fire, lost for a moment in memories of the past.

  Conor looked at his wristwatch and got a start. “Jeepers, I think it’s time we should be going. We’re already a little bit late.”

  “Everything has been so interesting. The minutes have flown much too fast. I wish we could stay a little longer.” Niamh was not at all pleased that they would have to go so soon.

  “It has turned out to
be such a memorable day for me,” Sinéad said. “One of the best.”

  “Please remember,” Mulligan said, addressing the children as they stood up to go. “This place is known only to me, and now yourselves. I’d like you to keep it a secret, if you would. It has been a real treat having you here. I find grown-ups so hard to get along with. That’s why I live deep in Coillduff Forest away from the hurly-burly of city life.”

  “No bother, we’ll keep your secret,” Conor assured him.

  Mulligan smiled again and got to his feet, tucking his thumbs into his braces.

  Turning, the children and Mulligan saw that the Shamrogues had gone into a huddle on the granite slab. The big man looked down at Conor, Sinéad, and Niamh, and had an inkling of what was going on. They, in turn, looked down on their tiny friends.

  “Are we all ready?” Conor asked and glanced at his watch once more.

  The Shamrogues peered up. Trom stepped to the front. He seemed to be a little sad.

  “We have come to a decision, and we hope you don’t feel offended. Also, it will require Mulligan’s agreement.”

  “What is it?” Niamh asked anxiously, although she suspected she knew what was coming next.

  Trom looked earnestly at the three children. “We were very happy to come here with you, but now we feel we would like to stay. For a while at least.”

  Conor knelt down. “If you’re sure that’s what you really want?” He felt a lump rise in his throat.

  Niamh took hold of the big man’s hand and looked up at him as he towered over everyone. Her eyes were watery as she asked. “Mulligan, what do you think?”

  “If that is the wish of the Shamrogues, then I’d love to have them stay with me. There’s lots of room here, and there are things they might be able to help with in the forest. Evil deeds are happening in some places. Their magic powers would be of great benefit.”

  Sinéad, knowing the decision was already reached, knelt beside her brother. “My feelings tell me we may never meet again. We certainly won’t be visiting here for some time to come, and I realise Mulligan needs you. You’ve known it too.”

  She presented a finger for them to shake, which they grasped with both hands. Then it was Conor’s turn. When it came to Niamh, she picked each one up tenderly and gave them a kiss. Then she caught Mulligan’s hand again, and he led the children and the Shamrogues to the entrance.

  Glic cartwheeled forward, a thing he always did to entertain, and rolled on the grass to where a withered fir tree stood, forlorn and bare. “Here’s something for you to remember.”

  He pointed at the tree and wiggled his fingers. As he did so, something unbelievable took place. Tiny green needles began to grow on the branches. The lustrous growth became thicker and more abundant. It was a miracle of rebirth. Finally, the tree was full of luscious greenery. It had all taken place in seconds.

  “There you are. I promised to help a tree today.”

  “Thank you,” the children chimed. “But now we must go.”

  The parting was tinged with sadness, as are all farewells. Saying goodbye again, and wishing Mulligan the best for the future, the children began to climb the hill.

  It had turned out to be memorable day. Unfortunately, the greater part of it would have to be kept secret.

  Mulligan called after them as he held the Shamrogues in his huge hands. “I hope your six brothers are not too worried.” When the children looked back, he winked and laughed.

  “He reminds me of a rag and bone man I once saw in a story book,” Conor said in a whisper.

  “Don’t be silly.” Niamh sniffled as she held on to her brother and sister’s hand and tried to smile. “Why, he’s a real Rock and Bone Man. The amber and the tooth around his neck prove that.”

  “Yes,” the other two said, smiling.

  At the top of the hill, they stopped and turned to wave. Mulligan held his new little friends higher so that the children might get a better view of them.

  “G’day!” the big man boomed.

  “Goodbye, goodbye,” the Shamrogues’ tiny voices carried up the slope.

  “Goodbye,” Niamh called, her voice cracking just a little bit. “Keep an eye on Sinéad’s tree.” She blew a kiss. The three children held hands and disappeared over the rim of the hill and were gone. Sunlight shimmered through the leaves of the trees, and Coillduff Forest became very quiet.

  Chapter Four

  Rogue Rhymes

  The Shamrogues and their new-found friend returned to the confines of the cavern. The big man saw that his tiny guests were a little upset and their spirits were flagging. He scratched his red beard and thought for some moments. They needed cheering up, and he was aware from long experience that telling others about oneself usually put a different slant on things.

  “Now that the children have left us, we can get to know one another a bit better. What do you say to that?”

  Mulligan poked the fire and decided to make more tea. The aromatic liquid might loosen their tongues.

  It was Trom, as leader of the small band, who spoke first. “I can see the shrewdness behind your thinking. But to make things more interesting, I suggest we tell you about ourselves in rhyming form. We often like to perform spells in that manner.”

  “A wise decision,” Mulligan said, as the plastic flies that were suspended from the brim of his hat swung in a never-ending circle. “Tea, to wet our whistles first, I think! Grab some chestnut shells and I’ll pour.” Using a stick, he caught the wire handle of the billycan and lifted it from the fire.

  “Let’s all have some fun,” Sona declared happily.

  Once settled, Trom hoisted the shell to his lips and downed the sweet-smelling liquid. He wiped his mouth with the tip of his fluffy white beard.

  “Right!” he exhaled. “Shall I be the one to begin?” The leader was answered by a chorus of “YES!”

  Having made a point of clearing his throat by gurgling and growling a little, he began.

  I am Trom, oldest of my kind.

  The earth and soil are mine to mind.

  Caffa, the Druid, concealed us well,

  Until a child’s innocence broke his spell.

  Now hear the words that he hid in the past,

  So that Shamrogues’ work can begin at last.

  Just as Trom finished his rhyme, and the others were beginning to applaud their leader’s skill with words, there was a tussle at the entrance and the screen shook. Mulligan rose and grinned broadly. “I reckon that’ll be two of my small companions who also live here.”

  He went to the screen and opened it only a little. There was a blur of fur and bushy tails at the base of the woven hazel.

  The Shamrogues exchanged glances. Who were these other creatures they had to share the cavern with? They certainly were an unruly pair as they bustled their way to the front of the fire.

  “This red squirrel is Kang,” Mulligan informed the Shamrogues. “And this grey one is Aroo. In the normal course of events, they would be sworn enemies. But now as you can see, they are the very best of friends, though a little rowdy sometimes. They have come to earn my great respect for their diligence and constant industry. That is, when they’re not playing rough games!” The big man’s laughter boomed in the cave and both squirrels rolled about, chattering loudly.

  “Please be quiet, if you can,” Sona pleaded. “We were just about to recite some interesting rhymes.” She addressed them in Squirrel and hoped they would pay heed.

  Instead, the two teased one another and began to play tip and tag, saying rudely: “For such a tiny creature, who dares to speak our language, she uses some very posh words!” Then they began to chase around the cavern, over and under the tables, along the length of Mulligan’s bed, and across and through the plates and mugs, causing minor havoc. The Shamrogues watched them whizz round until they themselves were feeling dizzy.

  Soon Trom had seen enough of their nonsense.

  “Harump!” he commanded and pointed in his usual fashion.


  Kang and Aroo skidded to a sudden halt, their eyes rolling in their sockets and their bottom jaws dropping open to expose their long sharp front teeth. They gently swayed but otherwise did not move further. They were hypnotised!

  Mulligan looked with disdain at the two squirrels. “This is not like them, although we’ve never really had any company such as yours. Please forgive them. I imagine they were showing off to impress. They seem to have gone overboard a bit.”

  “We can have a chat with them, once they’ve cooled down,” Trom said. “In the meantime, they will know exactly what’s going on and what’s being said, and perhaps they will come to understand our presence here. So let us proceed with our rhymes.”

  “Well,” Mulligan continued, “you said there were words that were hidden in the past at the end of your rhyme. What were they?”

  Trom smiled at the memory that jumped into his head. “It was the children, Niamh, Sinéad and Conor, who called us to this time. They used a chant they had found engraved on a small Ogham stone. It went like this:

  On the shortest day of winter,

  Hidden by a magic spell,

  Lies the wisdom of the old ones,

  For how long now, none can tell.

  Now the spell can be broken,

  Power used for the good of all,

  If the words are spoken by the pure of heart,

  The very stones will hear the call.

  Old knowledge stored in stone,

  Buried long in the past,

  Awaken now in present time,

  To be used for good at last…

  The leader was greeted by more enthusiastic applause. Next to him, a voice took over as the clapping trailed off. It was Gorum’s turn.

  Gorum is my name,

  Earth’s water is my domain,

  To rid of its vile pollution,

  I’ll try to find the right solution.

  This ended with cheers as Mulligan looked at Croga, who was next. The big man was learning something about the Shamrogues alright! The yellow creature folded her arms and took a deep breath.

  I am Croga,

  Strongest of them all,

  Ruler of thunder and lightning,