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Chapter 3 The Kookoobura and the Snake

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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 little 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 weak, 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 laughed uproariously together. Dot was nearly deafened with 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.

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 dingos 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.