The Shamrogues

by Patrick Meehan

  Mulligan’s voice sliced through the atmosphere. “They’re like long stone icicles, don’t you think? Those are called stalactites. And the ones that seem to grow from the ground to meet them are called stalagmites. They’ve taken millions of years to develop into the shapes you now see, almost magically made by the tiny drops of water that filter through from above.”

  There were gasps of wonder at the great sight, and at the sparkling crystals that lay embedded in the damp walls. A blue-green pool reflected the lantern light and seemed to disappear into a low tunnel at the base of a sheer face of slippery rock.

  “An underground river,” Gorum asserted. “But there’s something about its smell.”

  “You’re correct,” Mulligan agreed. “I’ve dropped a piece of driftwood in there and discovered it’s the source of the river you’ve seen outside.”

  Gorum was pleased with himself and looked proudly at the others. “TukTuk, the otter, has visited here. The aura she carries has been left in this pool.”

  There was a high-pitched squeak from somewhere above their heads. They all peered up into the darkest and remotest recess of the ceiling. Eyes like tiny sparks looked down at them and then blinked a couple of times. Molag’s voice drifted from the gloom.

  “Begging your pardon, but there are those of us up here who would like to get some sleep. My bats are exhausted after last night’s flight.”

  “Our apologies, Molag,” Trom called out, his voice echoing. “We’ll leave you in peace now.”

  Just before passing back through the passageway, Mulligan paused at a heap of dazzling crystals.

  “These here,” he informed the Shamrogues, picking one up the size of his own fist, “I found in granite rock when I dug the excavation. They’re all six-sided with pointed ends and are semi-precious stones that can be used for making jewellry once they’ve been cut and polished. This is quartz.”

  Trom raised his eyebrows and, resting his hands on his hips, glanced at the others. “I have knowledge of such gem stones. In fact, Caffa, our creator, made me from a stone like this one that Mulligan has shown us.”

  “And me from granite,” Sona said pointing to herself, with a big smile on her face.

  Mulligan laughed and replaced the crystal. “Right. Now it’s out into the open and daylight. Kang and Aroo are already outside waiting for us to join them.”

  Sona and Glic were the first to reach the opening. It was almost as though it had been arranged, for, as soon as they approached the two squirrels, they were invited to climb upon their backs. Just as it had been with the bats, travelling on the backs of the squirrels was thrilling, although their bushy tails were inclined to tickle.

  “We will travel in the canopy of the trees,” Sona told the other Shamrogues as they emerged from the cavern, and Mulligan resettled the screen to conceal the entrance.

  “And we can keep an eye on things from up there…. Huauppp!” Glic howled merrily as Kang leaped onto the trunk of a beech tree and scrambled up into the foliage. The squirrel moved with agility and confidence as Glic held on to tufts of fur at the back of his ears.

  Trom gazed up at the four as they bobbed along a stout branch. “There’ll never be a dull moment when they’re around,” he said to Mulligan who knelt to tie the laces of his battered boots.

  “I must show you my plot where I grow some vegetables and potatoes,” the big man remarked and got to his feet. “It’s this way, along the stream bank and hidden by a thick hedge. There’s the remains of a log cabin on the site. The charcoal makers who occupied it have long since left. But at least their hidden garden remains.”

  “Ah!” Gorum said. “The Druids used to burn charcoal in their fires. I was once a stone around one of those fires. It was very hot indeed.”

  “There’s no need to brag, Gorum,” Croga said. “We’ve all had our turn beside fires.” They were tramping along the beaten trail with many animal tracks pressed into the brown mud beneath their feet. Trom admired the spring flowers that grew in abundance about them. “Stop bickering, you two,” he commanded. “Enjoy the scenery.”

  Then, from high overhead, came Sona’s voice.

  “There are two riders approaching on horseback… And they’re galloping at speed in our direction. They will soon be here at the rate they’re moving.”

  “Mulligan…” Trom asked hastily, “who can they be? I thought this part of Coillduff Forest might be free of other humans.”

  “I have a vague idea,” the big man answered. “But until I see them, I can’t be sure. Let’s hide in the shrubbery over there.” He pointed to a copse of low bushes.

  The two riders came into view, urging their sweating mounts with sharp commands and dodging through the close-knit trees. They rode without mercy and at dangerous speed. With a splash of kicked-up mud, they raced by and went crashing out of sight.

  The leader of the Shamrogues looked at Mulligan who remained squatting behind a bush with a puzzled expression on his face. Trom tugged at the lobe of his ear. “I recognise that pair. I’ve seen them in these woods before,” Mulligan said. “They’re what you’d call yuppies, I suppose. They’ll kill those horses with their thoughtless galloping.”

  “Yes,” Trom agreed. “But what are they doing here? Surely there is lots of open country hereabouts that would suit them just as well.”

  “They’re up to no good,” Mulligan declared. “And that’s a certainty. They’ve driven into the forest before in a jeep. It had a sign on the side which said “McNamara Holdings Limited”. Some type of property development company, I think. But I don’t know what business they had here.”

  The big man shook his head, the plastic flies hanging from the brim of his hat bobbing and jerking on the ends of their strings.

  “I’m getting more bad feelings,” Gorum said, and scratched the tip of his blue nose.

  Croga folded her arms and squinted up into the tree above at Sona and Glic, who were watching from their perch on one of the higher most branches. “Have they gone out of sight?” she called.

  Aroo, with Sona on her back, came quickly down the trunk of the gnarled tree and skipped to where Mulligan and the other Shamrogues were standing.

  Sona hopped down from the squirrel’s back. “They’ve come to a halt about the length of a hundred tall trees away,” she said, almost breathless from the descent. “Over there.”

  “That’s about a kilometre away,” Mulligan explained.

  Trom was first to speak. “I think we should go there. We might as well know what these strangers are here for.”

  “Perhaps we should mind our own business,” Gorum said. “It is sometimes the safest thing by far…and danger is never…”

  “Oh, you and your ‘safe’ and ‘mind your own business’!” Croga interrupted. “Let’s go, or we’ll never find out what they’re doing here.”

  “Both of you are correct in your own way,” Trom said to Gorum and Croga, trying to keep the peace between them. “It’s always wise to consider what action one should take. But sometimes too much consideration can have a negative effect and things never get done.”

  Mulligan nodded agreement. “I’m all for finding out, anyway. Now, what’s the quickest way?” He caught the straps of his braces and filled his great barrel chest with a big breath.

  “No sooner said than done,” Trom declared. He waved both of his arms up and down, and round and round the length and breadth of the big man’s body.

  By ancient power of rag and bone,

  Now become a tiny rolling stone!

  With a kind of sizzling sound, Mulligan immediately changed shape and became as Trom had bid.

  “And the same for us three,” Trom addressed Gorum and Croga. “Sona and Glic can make their way on Kang and Aroo. Off we go.” He signalled for them all to move forward, and he, Gorum and Croga pulled in their tiny arms and feet to once more become stones.

  “ZIIFFF…ZAAFFF…ZUUFFF…” And the strangest sights the forest had ever witnessed were on their way.


  Rolling, tumbling, bumping, spinning, the four stones sped along the forest floor like whizzing wheels, accompanied by the hopping, skipping and jumping of both squirrels, with Glic and Sona bouncing along as they hung on for dear life to Kang and Aroo’s furry coats.

  Soon they arrived where the horses were tethered, but there was no sign of the two riders.

  As they rolled behind a large, moss-covered boulder, Trom’s eyes popped open and he looked closely at Mulligan to make sure that he was all right. He allowed himself a little smile, because he had never seen a chequered stone of varying shades of green before.

  Once the leader of the Shamrogues’ transformation from stone was complete, he began to work on helping Mulligan revert back to human form. “But it will be no harm for you to remain small like the rest of us, for now,” Trom said to Mulligan. A bush hat appeared, followed by the red bearded face and then the arms and legs.

  “Flippin’ heck! That was really something,” Mulligan whispered.

  Sona came around the side of the boulder with Glic. “Kang and Aroo have taken to the trees. They’ll report back as soon as they find anything out.”

  “In the meantime,” Trom said quietly, “Approach the horses with care, Sona, and stay concealed. Try to find out from them what’s happening.”

  The tiny pink Shamrogue sneaked through some tall grasses to where the horses grazed. As she reached them, she could see they were lathered in sweat. She could make out voices ahead; one was that of a woman, the other a man. Sona dived for cover.

  Mulligan and the others also heard the raised voices. Carefully, they crept through the undergrowth to the wide trunk of an ancient tree. They peered cautiously in the direction of the man and woman who were in their early twenties.

  “But, Sabina,” the young man was saying, “we can make an even bigger stack of money if we wait a little longer.”

  “Listen, Colin,” she answered. “You just take notes while I mark some of these wretched trees, like what Daddy wants us to do. Then we can get a work crew in here before anyone knows what’s happening. There’s fantastic profit to be made from hardwoods like these right now.”

  Colin, who was long and lanky, pulled the polo neck of his sweater up and fidgeted with his notebook and pencil.

  “Sabina,” he whined. “Our old man is a doddery fool who knows nothing about the timber market. Now, if we were to squeeze him out by telling him there’s no decent money to be made out of a venture like this, why, we could clean up in a few years when he pops his clogs.”

  Sabina cracked her riding crop off the side of one of her highly polished boots. “You’re just a snivelling coward, Colin. You want to use the excuse of waiting, in case you get caught ripping off this crummy forest. Anyway, you know full well that Daddy can bribe one or two of the councillors whenever he chooses. He can get them to sell this bit of land once the trees are cleared. After all, it borders our property. Even without the trees, it’ll be worth a lot of money some day. And who else is to benefit, except us? Now, get taking notes of how many trees I’m marking so we can tell the buyer how many to expect in a week’s time!”

  Mulligan leaned over to Trom. “Did you hear that? The greedy fools! They intend wiping out Oak Glade for their own ends. That’s something we’ll have to try and put a stop to. Why, if I was back up to my own size, I’d go out there and bang their heads together.” Mulligan’s whisper became louder as anger overtook him, but of course he still remained as small as a Shamrogue.

  “Listen,” Colin said, shuddering and scanning the trees around them. “There’s somebody talking… I’m sure of it.”

  “Afraid of your own echo,” his sister scolded. “You’ll be scared of your own shadow next. Now shut up so we can get finished here!”

  Colin McNamara stuffed the pad and pencil into his hip pocket. “I’m not staying here a minute longer. We’re being watched. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.”

  Sabina roared with delirious laughter. “The pussycat’s hair bristles on the back of his scrawny neck. I’m finished here anyway. Scurry away, you little wimp.”

  She turned on her heel so that her long dyed-blonde hair swished in the air, and she threw the orange marker onto the ground before striding off with her brother in pursuit.

  Sona, who was still near the horses, jumped out from her hiding place. She quickly untied their reins from the branch of a fallen bough. “Escape, mighty four-legged animals. Your work is finished for the day.” She could hear the brother and sister getting nearer through the rustling of ferns and grasses. The horses hesitated. They were afraid of what might happen to them later if they took flight. But they had also seen how vicious and irritated Sabina was by her brother’s behaviour.

  “Go quickly, for your own sakes. A long walk will cool her down,” Sona insisted in a sincere voice.

  The horses whinnied and reared. They snorted their thanks and dashed away through the forest.

  Sabina screamed. “Come back here, you lazy good-for-nothing ratbags.” She turned to her brother. “This is all your fault. You never could tether horses properly. For your stupidity, you can carry me home on your back.” She raised the riding crop and he cowered, covering his face.

  “Okay, okay. Don’t hit me. I’ll get you home.”

  Sabina hopped onto her brother’s back and he wobbled away.

  “Good enough for them,” Trom said as Sona rejoined them. “At least the horses won’t have to suffer.”

  “It’s time to make plans,” Gorum said. He rubbed some clay off his bald blue head.

  The others smiled and agreed. They had at least a week to get their ideas together and perhaps organise some friendly help. There were so many animals that could be affected by the loss of their homes in Oak Glade!

  Chapter Seven

  Battle Stations!

  Back at the cavern, after Mulligan had been returned to normal size, the Shamrogues watched the big man as he sat on his carved stone seat. He wore a very worried expression indeed. In his right hand, he held two smooth pebbles that he turned over and over again. He carried out this strange occupation in a kind of daze, and did not seem to be aware of what he was doing. In fact, he did not appear to be the Mulligan they had recently come to know. Trom moved over beside him and tapped the back of his hand.

  “I wonder…” said the leader of the tiny group, “what type of pebbles would they happen to be?”

  Mulligan seemed not to hear for a second or so, and then he looked down at the creature with the white beard and an inquiring glint in his eyes.

  “What was that again?” Mulligan asked. He blinked and shook his head. The plastic flies on his hat swung fiercer than ever.

  “The pebbles,” Trom reminded him.

  The rest of the Shamrogues looked on, and the squirrels became silent for once.

  Mulligan thought for what seemed to be an age. Then he finally opened his huge hand to expose the smoothest of small stones.

  He sighed. “These are Gastroliths. They’re special.”

  “You always use such big words that we don’t know the meaning of,” Sona told him. “And what is so special about them?”

  It was the way she spoke, with soft tones to her voice, that seemed to make Mulligan sit up and take notice. He quickly reminded himself that, although the Shamrogues had been given the power and worldly wisdom of the druids, the little creatures could not possibly be expected to have complete knowledge. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I mean to confuse you in any way. It’s just that I like to use the correct words for things.”

  He peered down at the smooth pebbles and smiled broadly as if they sparked off a fond memory.

  “Now, you look more like our own Mulligan,” Glic said. “Tell us, tell us!”

  “Well…these come from huge animals that roamed the earth a long time ago. They were known as dinosaurs and used to swallow little stones like these to help their digestion. Just like common or garden chickens who eat gravel to crush the grain they eat
.”

  Gorum appeared to be shocked. “Surely you’re not going to eat them? The roots and other stuff look a lot tastier.”

  Mulligan broke into a fit of laughter and fixed his bush hat more securely on his head. “No, no, no,” he chuckled. “These were given to me by a very wise old Aborigine who found them in a sacred place that must have been dinosaur country millions of years ago. He advised me to keep them with me in times of stress. He said I might be able to think more clearly.”

  The Shamrogues looked at one another with astounded expressions on their faces. This certainly was something new to them. Still, they thought, the pebbles must be of some use if Mulligan believed in them. After all, had they not been stones at one time themselves? Could they not revert to stone whenever they wanted? Yes, indeed, there were great things to be said about stone!

  Mulligan suspected what they were all thinking. “Well, now that these pebbles have helped me become calm and clear-minded, I can put them away and maybe we can all go for a bit of a walkabout.”

  “Good idea,” Glic said, and whistled before adding, “Perhaps we could pay a visit to your secret garden? We never did reach it the last time we set out!”

  Croga agreed. “The fresh air will do us good.”

  Kang and Aroo scurried up a nearby tree trunk, but then they stopped and frowned knowingly at each other. “Who wants a jaunt?” they chattered busily. They knew that Glic and Sona could not refuse such a tempting offer.

  Mulligan knelt and said to Trom, Croga and Gorum, “You three might as well travel in my arms. We can have a natter as we go.”

  So as not to offend the big man, and to help cheer him a little more, they obliged and climbed on board.

  Glic, astride Kang, spotted something that glinted in the sun as they hopped casually by a disused magpie nest. Up closer, he gazed in surprise at what he saw.

  “Treasure!” the green creature called happily to Sona and Aroo. “We’ve found treasure. Come and see!”

  In the base of the nest they discovered what turned out to be a forgotten hoard. It was funny to see scraps of shiny paper, glittering shards of broken glass, two silver coins and even a collection of sparkling beads.