When Dot awoke, she did so with a start of fear. Something in her sleep
had seemed to tell her that she was in danger. At a first glance she saw
that the Kangaroo had left her, and coiled upon her body was a young
black Snake. Before Dot could move, she heard a voice from a tree,
outside the cave, say, very softly, "Don't be afraid! keep quite still,
and you will not get hurt. Presently I'll kill that Snake. If I tried to
do so now it might bite you; so let it sleep on."
She looked up in the direction of the tree, and saw a big Kookooburra
perched on a bough, with all the creamy feathers of its breast fluffed
out, and its crest very high. The Kookooburra is one of the jolliest
birds in the bush, and is always cracking jokes, and laughing, but this
one was keeping as quiet as he could. Still he could not be quite
serious, and a smile played all round his huge beak. Dot could see that
he was nearly bursting with suppressed laughter. He kept on saying,
under his breath, "what a joke this is! what a capital joke! How they'll
all laugh when I tell them." Just as if it was the funniest thing in the
world to have a Snake coiled up on one's body; when the horrid thing
might bite one with its poisonous fangs, at any moment!
Dot said she didn't see any joke, and it was no laughing matter.
"To be sure _you_ don't see the joke," said the jovial bird. "On-lookers
always see the jokes, and I'm an on-looker. It's not to be expected of
you, because you're not an on-looker;" and he shook with suppressed
laughter again.
"Where is my dear Kangaroo?" asked Dot.
"She has gone to get you some berries for breakfast," said the
Kookooburra, "and she asked me to look after you, and that's why I'm
here. That Snake got on you whilst I flew away to consult my doctor, the
White Owl, about the terrible indigestion I have. He's very difficult
to catch awake; for he's out all night and sleepy all day. He says
cockchafers have caused it. The horny wing-cases and legs are most
indigestible, he assures me. I didn't fancy them much when I ate them
last night, so I took his advice and coughed them up, and I'm no longer
feeling depressed. Take my advice, and don't eat cockchafers, little
Human."
Dot did not really hear all this, nor heed the excellent advice of the
Kookooburra, not to eat those hard green beetles that had disagreed with
it, for a little shivering movement had gone through the Snake, and
presently all the scales of its shining black back and rosy underpart
began to move. Dot felt quite sick, as she saw the reptile begin to
uncoil itself, as it lay upon her. She hardly dared to breathe, but lay
as still as if she were dead, so as not to frighten or anger the horrid
creature, which presently seemed to slip like a slimy cord over her bare
legs, and wriggled away to the entrance of the cave.
With a quick, delighted movement, she sat up, eager to see where the
deadly Snake would go. It was very drowsy, having slept heavily on Dot's
warm little body; so it went slowly towards the bush, to get some frogs
or birds for breakfast. But as it wriggled into the warm morning
sunlight outside, Dot saw a sight that made her clap her hands together
with anxiety for the life of the jolly Kookooburra.
No sooner did the black Snake get outside the cave, than she saw the
Kookooburra fall like a stone from its branch, right on top of the
Snake. For a second, Dot thought the bird must have tumbled down dead,
it was such a sudden fall; but a moment later she saw it flutter on the
ground, in battle with the poisonous reptile, whilst the Snake wriggled,
and coiled its body into hoops and rings. The Kookooburra's strong
wings, beating the air just above the writhing Snake, made a great
noise, and the serpent hissed in its fierce hatred and anger. Then Dot
saw that the Kookooburra's big beak had a firm hold of the Snake by the
back of the neck, and that it was trying to fly upwards with its enemy.
In vain the dreadful creature tried to bite the gallant bird; in vain it
hissed and stuck out its wicked little spiky tongue; in vain it tried to
coil itself round the bird's body; the Kookooburra was too strong and
too clever to lose its hold, or to let the Snake get power over it.
At last Dot saw that the Snake was getting weaker and weaker, for,
little by little, the Kookooburra was able to rise higher with it, until
it reached the high bough. All the time the Snake was held in the bird's
beak, writhing and coiling in agony; for he knew that the Kookooburra
had won the battle. But, when the noble bird had reached its perch, it
did a strange thing; for it dropped the Snake right down to the ground.
Then it flew down again, and brought the reptile back to the bough, and
dropped it once more--and this it did many times. Each time the Snake
moved less and less, for its back was being broken by these falls. At
last the Kookooburra flew up with its victim for the last time, and,
holding it on the branch with its foot, beat the serpent's head with
its great strong beak. Dot could hear the blows fall,--whack, whack,
whack,--as the beak smote the Snake's head; first on one side, then on
the other, until it lay limp and dead across the bough.
"Ah! ah! ah!--Ah! ah! ah!" laughed the Kookooburra, and said to Dot,
"Did you see all that? Wasn't it a joke? What a capital joke! Ha! ha!
ha! ha! ha! Oh! oh! oh! how my sides do ache! What a joke! How they'll
laugh when I tell them." Then came a great flight of kookooburras, for
they had heard the laughter, and all wanted to know what the joke was.
Proudly the Kookooburra told them all about the Snake sleeping on Dot,
and the great fight! All the time, first one kookooburra, and then
another, chuckled over the story, and when it came to an end every bird
dropped its wings, cocked up its tail, and throwing back its head,
opened its great beak, and all laughed uproariously together. Dot was
nearly deafened by the noise; for some chuckled, some cackled; some
said, "Ha! ha! ha!" others said, "Oh! oh! oh!" and as soon as one left
off, another began, until it seemed as though they couldn't stop. They
all said it was a splendid joke, and that they really must go and tell
it to the whole bush. So they flew away, and far and near, for hours,
the bush echoed with chuckling and cackling, and wild bursts of
laughter, as the kookooburras told that grand joke everywhere.
"Now," said the Kookooburra, when all the others had gone, "a bit of
snake is just the right thing for breakfast. Will you have some, little
Human?"
Dot shuddered at the idea of eating snake for breakfast, and the
Kookooburra thought she was afraid of being poisoned.
"It won't hurt you," he said kindly, "I took care that it did not bite
itself. Sometimes they do that when they are dying, and then they're not
good to eat. But this snake is all right, and won't disagree like
cockchafers: the scales are quite soft and digestible," he added.
But Dot said she would rather wait for the berries the Kangaroo was
bringing, so the Kookooburra remarked that if she would excuse it he
would like to begin breakfast at once, as the fight had made him hungry.
Then Dot saw him hold the reptile on the branch with his foot, whilst he
took its tail into his beak, and proceeded to swallow it in a leisurely
way. In fact the Kookooburra was so slow that very little of the snake
had disappeared when the Kangaroo returned.
[Illustration: THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE KOOKOOBURRA AND THE SNAKE]
The Kangaroo had brought a pouch full of berries, and in her hand
a small spray of the magic ones, by eating which Dot was able to
understand the talk of all the bush creatures. All the time she was
wandering in the bush the Kangaroo gave her some of these to eat daily,
and Dot soon found that the effect of these strange berries only lasted
until the next day.
The Kangaroo emptied out her pouch, and Dot found quite a large
collection of roots, buds, and berries, which she ate with good
appetite.
The Kangaroo watched her eating with a look of quiet satisfaction.
"See," she said, "how easily one can live in the bush without hurting
anyone; and yet Humans live by murdering creatures and devouring them.
If they are lost in the scrub they die, because they know no other way
to live than that cruel one of destroying us all. Humans have become so
cruel, that they kill, and kill, not even for food, but for the love of
murdering. I often wonder," she said, "why they and the dingoes are
allowed to live on this beautiful kind earth. The Black Humans kill and
devour us; but they, even, are not so terrible as the Whites, who
delight in taking our lives, and torturing us just as an amusement.
Every creature in the bush weeps that they should have come to take the
beautiful bush away from us."
Dot saw that the sad brown eyes of the Kangaroo were full of tears, and
she cried too, as she thought of all that the poor animals and birds
suffer at the hands of white men. "Dear Kangaroo," she said, "if I ever
get home, I'll tell everyone of how you unhappy creatures live in fear,
and suffer, and ask them not to kill you poor things any more."
But the Kangaroo sadly shook her head, and said, "White Humans are
cruel, and love to murder. We must all die. But about your lost way,"
she continued in a brisk tone, by way of changing this painful subject;
"I've been asking about it, and no one has seen it anywhere. Of course
someone must know where it is, but the difficulty is to find the right
one to ask." Then she dropped her voice, and came a little nearer to
Dot, and stooping down until her little black hands hung close to the
ground, she whispered in Dot's ear, "They say I ought to consult the
Platypus."
"Could the Platypus help, do you think?" Dot asked.
"I _never_ think," said the Kangaroo, "but as the Platypus never goes
anywhere, never associates with any other creature, and is hardly ever
seen, I conclude it knows everything--it must, you know."
"Of course," said Dot, with some doubt in her tone.
"The only thing is," continued the Kangaroo, once more sitting up and
pensively scratching her nose. "The only thing is, I can't bear the
Platypus; the sight of it gives me the creeps: it's such a queer
creature!"
"I've never seen a Platypus," said Dot. "Do tell me what it is like!"
"I couldn't describe it," said the Kangaroo, with a shudder, "it seems
made up of parts of two or three different sorts of creatures. None of
us can account for it. It must have been an experiment, when all the
rest of us were made: or else it was made up of the odds and ends of the
birds and beasts that were left over after we were all finished."
Little Dot clapped her hands. "Oh, dear Kangaroo," she said, "do take me
to see the Platypus! there was nothing like that in my Noah's ark."
"I should say not!" remarked the Kangaroo. "The animals in the Ark said
they were each to be of its kind, and every sort of bird and beast
refused to admit the Platypus, because it was of so many kinds; and at
last Noah turned it out to swim for itself, because there was such a
row. That's why the Platypus is so secluded. Ever since then no Platypus
is friendly with any other creature, and no animal or bird is more than
just polite to it. They couldn't be, you see, because of that trouble in
the Ark."
"But that was so long ago," said Dot, filled with compassion for the
lonely Platypus; "and, after all, this is not the same Platypus, nor are
all the bush creatures the same now as then."
"No," returned the Kangaroo, "and some say there was no Ark, and no fuss
over the matter, but that, of course, doesn't make any difference, for
it's a very ancient quarrel, so it must be kept up. But if we are to go
to the Platypus we had better start now; it is a good time to see it--so
come along, little Dot," said the Kangaroo.