LIFE AND DEATH.

[Contents]LIFE AND DEATH.Once upon a time an old man and a fairy sat by the wayside talking.“When the world was first created,” said the elfin, “it was appointed how many years each creature should exist. So the horse came and inquired how long he was to live.“ ‘Thirty years,’ he was told, and then was asked, ‘Is that sufficient?’“ ‘Alas!’ replied the beast, ‘that is a long time. Think how many wearisome burdens I shall have to carry from morning to night beneath a hot sun, that man, my master, may eat bread and live at ease, and I receive nothing but blows and hard words, and must yet keep always active and obliging. The time is too long. Take away some of my years, I pray.’“So the horse was pitied, and a life of only eighteen years was appointed to him. Whereupon he went gladly away; and the dog then made his appearance and asked,—[278]“ ‘What is the duration of my life?’“ ‘How long do you wish to live?’ was inquired of him. ‘Thirty years was allotted to the horse, but that was too much for him; perhaps you will be satisfied with that term?’“ ‘Do you think so?’ answered the dog. ‘Remember how much I shall have to run and bark and bite. My feet will not last the time, and when I have lost my voice and my teeth, and can neither bark nor bite, what will then be for me but to crawl and howl from one corner to another?’“Therefore the dog’s plea was granted, and twelve years appointed for his age. After which he departed and made room for the monkey.“ ‘You will live thirty years willingly, no doubt,’ was said to the ape. ‘You need not work like the horse or the dog, and therefore will always be well off.’“ ‘Indeed, it should be so’ replied Jacko, ‘but I have found it different. Mine is anything but a life of indolence. I must always be aping my betters, and making comical faces for people to laugh at. Many a hard nut I have to crack. And as sadness is often hidden beneath a grin, so have I to show my teeth, even if they are aching with pain. Please shorten the years of my life.’ So ten years were allotted to him.[279]“Last of all man appeared, healthy and vigorous, and requested a term to be appointed to him.“ ‘You shall live thirty years,’ was the reply. ‘Is that enough?’“ ‘What a short time!’ exclaimed the man. ‘Just when I shall have cleared my land, built myself a house, and lighted a fire upon my own hearth, and I am thinking of enjoying life, I must die. I pray let my life be lengthened.’“ ‘Very well. The eighteen years of the horse shall be added.’“ ‘That is not sufficient,’ said man.“ ‘You shall have also twelve years of the dog’s life thereto.’“ ‘Still too little,’ replied the man.“ ‘Then you may have the ten years allowed to the monkey, but you must desire no more.’“Man was then obliged to leave, but he was not satisfied.“Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are the days of his manhood, which pass quickly away; he is then strong and lusty, works with pleasure, and rejoices in his being. Then follow the eighteen years of the life of the horse which brings in its train burdens which he must bear from the rising to the setting of the sun, and wherein blame and abuse often reward him for[280]his labours. Next come the twelve years of the dog, during which man has to sit in corners, because he has lost the power to bark and bite. And when this time is up the ten years of the monkey bring the close of the scene, for in these man becomes foolish, gabbers and jabbers without end, and is fit for nothing but——”The elfin paused, and gazed earnestly at the mortal.“But what?” cried the old man.“But—Death. The portal which leads into thevast unknown, and from which we elves are debarred,” responded the fairy.“And what is Death?”“A certainty, O mortal, for all thy race. No more or less than that. Ere I go hence from thee for ever hear this fable:—“In olden times a giant wrestled with this terrible enemy Death, and vanquished him. As the grim foe lay helpless by the wayside he began to grumble. ‘What will be the consequence of my downfall to the world? If I lie here, then it will be so full and crowded with humanity that they will not be able to move for each other.’“Just then a young man came up the road, strong and healthy, singing a song, and looking well about him. As soon as he perceived the[281]conquered one he went up to him, and compassionately raising him, bound up his wounds, and nursed him until strength returned.“ ‘Do you know who I am?’ asked Death, when he was fairly on his legs again.“ ‘No,’ replied the youth. ‘I know you not.’“ ‘I am Death,’ he replied. ‘I spare no one, and can take no excuse from you even. But to show you that I am not ungrateful, I promise not to take you unawares, but I will send my messengers before I come and fetch you.’“ ‘Very well,’ said the young man, ‘that is a bargain. Until your harbingers come I shall be safe from you.’“With this understanding the mortal pursued his way merrily, and lived in prosperity for some time; but youth and health will not remain for ever. Pain and sickness and grief came, and the man complained that there was no rest for him night or day. ‘I shall not die,’ he said, ‘for Death must first send his messengers; but I wish these fearful days of illness were over.’“Health returned again, and he began to live as usual. One day, somebody knocked at the window, and looking round he saw Death standing behind him. ‘Follow me,’ he said.“ ‘How so?’ exclaimed the mortal. ‘Will you[282]break the promise that you made to me, that your servants should first give me notice ere you appeared? I have not seen them.’“ ‘Be silent,’ replied Death. ‘Have I not sent you one messenger after another? Did not fever come and seize you and lay you prostrate? Did not racking pain oppress your limbs, noises sound in your ears, a dimness cover your eyes? Above all, did not my twin brother, Sleep, remind you every night that I should come?’“And the man knew not what to reply, and was therefore taken away.”When the elfin had thus spoken he vanished from the mortal’s view.[283][Contents]GIANTS.I, Martin Crowe, am a book-loving vagabond. Reading hath charms for me not to be found in men or women. My few quaint volumes are my companions and my friends. True, I cannot borrow money from, or use them according to my worldly necessity; nevertheless, they speak to me in many voices, some in tones of deep wisdom, others in the witchery of suggestive imagery, until my humble study, with its scanty furniture and bare walls, vanish altogether from my outward senses.It is late. On this long winter night I have been deep into the pages of the famous astronomer, Newton; and although I have laid down the book before me on the table, my mind is still busy at the threshold of the mysterious realm of Nature, to which I have been introduced by the wand of the magician. If knowledge is power, it sometimes happens that the power does not bring happiness in its train, but often assumes strange shapes.[284]As I sat and looked with vacant eyes at what, for the moment, I saw not, behold the table before me became gradually luminous. At first the light was flickering and uncertain, rising and falling in a shapeless mass, but it quickly brightened into a spiral-shaped luminary, which presently assumed the form of a venerable old man.I cannot venture an opinion as to the means employed by my strange visitor for his entrance into my chamber, any more than you can explain to me the manifestations of clairvoyance and electro-biology.From the first appearance of the light, and during the subsequent gradations which qualified my vision to discover a personage with the aspect of a seer of the olden time standing at my side, I have no clear idea of anything save that of being held by an all-powerful spell towards him. I had studied animal magnetism, and curative mesmerism under Tom Buckland, and knew a thing or two with reference to passes, currents, and counter-currents, but I found my will ebbing away before the steady fingers and calm eyes of the stranger, whose stronger influence seemed to wrap me round and round as with a band of steel, utterly powerless to speak or move, except at the will of my companion. Yet I felt my sensations[285]in rapid play to all around me. Nay, more, the sense of hearing and observation seemed marvellously quickened within me, and the intensity of thought brightened from the gross element which had previously partially obscured it. The shape found voice, and addressed me:—“Young man, I am the guardian of Nature’s chief secrets,” it said, replying to the unasked question on my lip. “Men call me Knowledge, but my name is Science. What dost thou want with me?”I found the power of speech return to me ere the last words were uttered.“Let me behold some of Nature’s secrets,” I cried eagerly.“Thou art a bold mortal.”“I am earnest. Even as the aspiring thoughts that meet me in this book, I would soar and know.”“Of course,” replied the voice. “Although I come to thee in fairy form and guise, I am the servant of thought. It was not the uttered word that did summon me, but the force of the inward wish to understand within thee. Well, I am here. If thou wouldst see some of the giants of the future, follow me.”I had no will but to follow him, as he led the way out of the doorway into the silent night, under[286]the whispering trees beyond the city, across the bridge of the river, and away to the summit of a hill, with the waves of the gulf thundering at its base.“All human knowledge commences in dreams,” he said in a low tone. “Trance hovers over measureless secrets, and forms the first faint bridge between them and thought. Look steadfastly on the moon yonder.”I obeyed in silence. I had no power otherwise than to obey. As I gazed, the pale orb of night appeared to expand and dilate until its luminous circumference diffused all space, and in the midst of this shining atmosphere I became aware of a strange sense of heavenly liberty pervading my whole being. It seemed as if hitherto I had been bound with a strong chain, which had suddenly snapped asunder, and had yielded me unutterable freedom from the body, and had imparted a bird-like lightness which floated me into space itself. Through this space a swift succession of shadowy landscapes rolled; mountains, trees, cities, ships, and inland seas glided along, like the drifting clouds seen in a stormy sky, until at length, settled and stationary, I saw a vast cave in the heart of a gloomy forest.“Enter, and beware of Fear,” cried the voice at[287]my side. At the sound the ecstasy and lightness which had been upon me faded away, and a sort of languor seized my frame, without communicating itself to the mind.Downward by a stairway of rugged rock I was led into what seemed a terrible abyss. Round and round in spiral form we descended for many miles, amid noises loud and new to me, when our farther progress was abruptly stopped by a massive door formed in the solid rock, and which was guarded by monsters of various shapes, called Ignorance. Erect and threatening they rose to crush me, but at sight of my conductor they fell down again in abject submission and opened the door; whereupon we passed into a mighty cavern, so wide and so lofty that its magnitude astounded me, its limit reaching far beyond my range of vision. Here I beheld huge giants, mightier than ever appeared in legend or fairy tale. Many were toiling hard, some lay reclining, as if just awakened from a deep sleep; while others slumbered peacefully. Dim and indistinct as the light here glimmered, I could see the ponderous shapes plainly. With the will to question my guide came the power of speech.“Who is yonder fellow,” I asked, “seated astride the trident rock? What huge limbs he has!”[288]“That is young Australia,” replied the voice. “The ages have cradled him. He is only a baby awakened out of his first sleep. I predict the infant will develop into a magnificent giant by-and-by,” rejoined the voice.“What is the name of this powerful-looking creature here with the gigantic head?” I inquired, pointing to a monster who seemed but just awakened from a long nap.“Electricity. It is a name but little known as yet,” replied the sage, “but your children will see this new land filled with its wonders. You see the giant has only been disturbed, not awakened.”“Why do they not rouse him up to action, O wise sage?”“Because the time for him to use his great and varied powers has not come,” answered the voice gravely. “Powers wrested from Nature for the benefit of mankind may be also turned into a scourge for the innocent. A Titan war is waging ever among men, the good for ever on the defensive, the bad for ever in assault. Perchance ’tis well the giant sleeps.”“There is another giant standing near Electricity, whose proud look I have often noted on the faces of men I have met. Who is he?”[289]“He is called Money, otherwise Cash, often Hard Cash,” replied the voice in answer. “Truly he is a powerful fellow. Sometimes great and god-like in his liberality, at other times he is mean and selfish. Mark what an affinity between him and the prostrate monster. In the far-off future, I see them hand-in-hand together, working a wonderful change on the face of Nature and in the condition of mankind.” A faint smile passed across the features of the sage as he uttered the words.“One question more. Pray tell me the name of yon noble creature who seems as though he were able to prop the globe single-handed?”“Ah, that is the twin brother of young Australia, and his name is Enterprise,” added the voice proudly. “Up and doing, early and late, ever active and daring in speculation. Australian Enterprise has promised that this, his country, shall be the commercial focus of the earth some time in the future, which shall also uprouse these slumbering giants.”The voice ceased speaking; but another voice, well known to my waking ears as that of my landlady, filled the vacuum, with the following choice sentence:—“Mr. Crowe, I hopes you remember that I’m a[290]widder with five innercent children to keep, and can’t afford to let you fall asleep and burn every drop of ile out of the lamp for a guinea a week, washing included! There now!”[291][Contents]THE KANGAROO HUNTER.[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE LOST DRESS.His hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland, away north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead such a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is that he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the out-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.One day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded farther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was returning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an article of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead halt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment as if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the linen, and the more he examined it the more[292]puzzled he became at the discovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a blackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a solitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and thought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.Somewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice calling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark, but he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk, and at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”“Here I am,” he answered. “What do you want?”“Please give me back—my—my—dress,” replied the voice in hesitating tones.“Eh? what?” cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you say?Your dress?”“If you please,” continued the voice pleadingly, “the article you found on the shore of the lake yesterday—it is mine. Pray return it to me.”“Oh!” said Bob, “why,thatwas a lady’s——”“I know it,” rejoined the voice quickly. “Oh dear. It is mine. I am a lady.”“Pray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.”[293]“It is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,” replied the voice.“Indeed!” ejaculated Bob, “that is a pity. However, I will return to you what I found upon one condition.”“What condition?”“Tell me who you are.”“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,”[294]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from herthraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,—[295]“Hello! Who are you?”The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”“‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’”“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”“Certainly,” replied our hero; “come down and I’ll share with you.”The strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a very short time he devoured the lion’s share of the lunch, and he and our hero became very friendly.[296]“What kind of bird are you?”“I’m a gum-hawk,” cried he, stretching his huge wings. “We are the giants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.”“You are a monster,” responded Bob in admiration. “I suppose you are quite strong enough to carry a man like me?”“I’d carry two such as you,” answered the gum-hawk quietly. “Only try me.”“Perhaps I may,” said Bob. “Do you know a place named the Granite Cliff?”“Rather; are you going there?”“Yes,” answered Bob, “if I may depend on you to convey me so far.”“Of course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get on my back,” and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with him into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly, but without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his elevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far ahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out above the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone in the sun like polished marble.“What mountain is that yonder?” he inquired of the gum-hawk.[297]“Mountain! That is the Granite Cliff.”“I have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,” rejoined the hunter after a pause. “The meat shall be yours if you set me down on the summit of the cliff.”“Don’t go there,” answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.“Why?”“Because it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.”“I have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?”“Certainly, if you are determined,” and the friendly bird, finding that our hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left him.The summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it to be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in itself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house, and before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of dense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.The young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the noise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the clouds were rolling along.Bob stepped up to the door of the hut and[298]gave it a hard thump with his gun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it She had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she asked him how he came there.“A gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this mountain,” responded Bob readily.“Well, what do you want here?”“Entrance, my supper, and a night’s lodgings, dame.”“That you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by difficult work on the morrow.”“I am prepared,” said Bob.“Very well. Come in,” she cried, and immediately closed the door.[Contents]CHAPTER II.QUIZ.There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep[299]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.Poor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing what his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work,[300]but here he was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one; almost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out with a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was determined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain. When noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. “It’s quite hopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it would take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,” he cried, raising his voice. “Indeed, I don’t see the use of making a fuss about it; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch has hid that lady that came to my hut?” And with this new turn to his thoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with the pebbles at his feet.As he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some one cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but he could see no one.“Oh dear! you have struck me on the head!” exclaimed a voice.The hunter rose quickly to his feet “Who and what are you?” he cried.“Can’t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,” repeated the voice.[301]Our hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large frog swimming towards him.“Pray who are you, sir?” inquired Bob, filled with amazement.“I’ll tell you that presently,” responded the frog, as he crawled up the embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long arms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond of his food.“I was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your reproaches with respect to emptying this lake,” said the frog, at the same time bowing very politely to Bob. “May I ask if you seriously intend to attempt the task?”The young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.Froggy listened quietly, and then replied, “Be content. I will help you.”“How can a frog help any one?” cried Bob contemptuously.“Wait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing dress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present. Of course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you like it?”[302]“Are you a fairy?” inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.“I am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I’m Quiz.”“Ah! I’m sorry that stone hit you on the head.”“Never mind. It didn’t hurt me much,” answered Quiz. “Now allow me to help you with your task.”“Can you really help me?”“Certainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with me who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how difficult they may be.”As Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three little men, no bigger than one’s thumb. The first was slim and slender, with a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.“These creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,” continued the sprite, “but they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the smallest of them, can do.” Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to retire a few paces; which he did.“Now, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that water-hole,” cried Quiz.Ere the words had left the elfin’s mouth the[303]wee man advanced, and said, “Out, water—out, fishes,” and immediately the water rose in the air like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while the fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according to their size and species.“Well done, Resolute!” shouted Bob, in ecstasy.“Dame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,” resumed the sprite. “Yet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish them and to rescue the chief’s lovely daughter from her hands. To-morrow I shall see you again.”And with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath his skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he vanished from sight.When evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her staff.“Ah, sluggard!” she cried, “if you have not done the work I gave you I will have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.”Bob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the wide, empty water-hole.Dame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.“Who has done this task for you?” she shouted[304]in unbridled passion. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for my husband’s dinner.”“I sha’n’t tell you anything, dame,” answered Bob. “You gave me a job to do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper, please.”The old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several minutes, and then replied, “Very well, very well; doubtless you are a wonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which will tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”Bob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her breath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper, like a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.[Contents]CHAPTER III.A SLEEPING BEAUTY.When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer,[305]which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”“What errand, dame?”“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”“The lady is here, then?”“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task;[306]but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared[307]to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”[308]“What will you give me if I aid you?”inquired the tiny lady.“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While[309]the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.Long before the evening our hero saw the task[310]completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.“What is that?” he cried.“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her[311]bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.[312][Contents]THE LAUGHING JACKASS.[Contents]CHAPTER I.LOST IN THE BUSH.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious morning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the branches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some gigantic magic lantern was at work.The mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a giant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin lying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland ring again with its mimic jeers.The boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. “It’s a fine thing to laugh when one’s in trouble,” he said, espying the long ugly beak of[313]the scoffer pointing down towards him. “I’ll bet if I only had my Shanghai I’d soon make you laugh t’other side of yourmouf.”“Ho-ho-ho!” chuckled the jackass in reply.“Oh, it’s no use troubling about a silly bird,”muttered the child sadly. “Hecan’t help me. Oh, I wish he could!” And the sobbing recommenced more intensely than before.Poor Berty Wake was lost in the bush—lost utterly. For two whole days the child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to that section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he had been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of civilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one or two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the poor wanderer’s grief by its unseemly laughter.Berty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the morning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great love for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his search, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began to track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray in the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide him.[314]Poor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and then cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight came again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide him home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third day, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than before.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass.“If I only had something to eat—just a piece of bread—wouldn’t it be nice!” said the lost one, sighing ruefully.“Or a mince-pie!” cried a voice from the tree-top.Berty Wake jumped to his feet. “Who’s that?” he cried.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass hoarsely.“Who spoke?” repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; “please say that again—mince-pie, wasn’t it?”“And jam tart,” added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than before.Poor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. “Ah! It’s some one come at last,” he cried.“Yes, Berty Wake, it’s me!” gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone, at the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over the[315]boy’s head. “Here am I, Jack the Rover—otherwise, Laughing Jack, as my pa calls me.”For fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much astonished to utter a word.“Was it—was it really you who talked just now?” he said, with a quaver of fear in his voice.“‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’”“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”“Why, of course it was,” said the jackass, whetting his beak in a reflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.“Oh!” cried Berty, “I know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn’t know you could talk. Where did you learn?”[316]“In a cage on the Murray River,” replied the bird, laughing loudly. “I belonged to a squatter named Wake—Stephen Wake. He took me out of a nest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.”“Good gracious! Why, you can’t be our Jack?” cried Berty joyfully.“That’s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” replied the bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. “Ever since my wings have grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me. Yesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my own account, and found you asleep under this tree.”“You are a very kind fellow, Jack,” said poor Berty with tears in his eyes and in his voice.“Not half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,” replied the bird gravely. “Don’t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with the bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits of sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well again? Ho-ho-ho!”“It is wonderful,” cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.“Not at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That is natural. The wonderful[317]part lies ingratitude, my dear. Gratitude moved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.”Little Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.“I suppose you are hungry?” said the bird.“Please don’t mention it,” responded the wee fellow, with wistful look. “You haven’t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?”“Haven’t I though!” answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. “Just be good enough to follow me over to yonder peak. I’ll show you.” Saying which, Jack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion towards the spot indicated, our little hero following.Halting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to scatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view three lovely pies.“Sit down, Berty, and eat,” said the jackass.“You’ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at the station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting for you.”“Oh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.”“That’s all right. There’s such a lot of people[318]out after you, but they won’t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of guiding you home again.”“Come here, Jack, and let me kiss you,” said the child. “Won’t you?”“Ha-ha-ha! The idea. You can’t kiss with your mouth full of pie. Besides, what will the trees say?”“The trees. Can they know?” cried the boy, with surprise.“Can’t they!” said Jack the Rover confidently.“The trees talk to me. Listen! Don’t you hear them—the rustling of the leaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.”“And can you understand what they say, Jack?”“Of course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now. Something that I want to know very much.”“Tell me what they say, Jack.”“They say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and finish your pies,” said the bird solemnly. “If you stir from beneath these trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you love, and die a dreadful death in the bush.”“Are you going to leave me, Jack?”[319]“Only for a short time,” said the bird assuringly. “Finish your repast, and wait patiently till I return. I won’t be long away.” Saying which the laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.[Contents]CHAPTER II.EMU ROYAL.Berty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic ridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing towers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed and festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.It seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes, watching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter weariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept.How long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his face and he awoke.Standing before him he saw a fine, strong emu—full-grown, with a soft crimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and round its beak glittering with precious stones.[320]The boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the huge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in comparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time to indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick branches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.“I can’t ride an emu. I shall fall off,” cried poor Berty in some alarm.“Why, I thought an Australian could ride anything,” echoed the jackass, with a loud peal of laughter. “Don’t be afraid, my little man: Emu Royal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.”Emu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake, over-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang upon its back.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn’t it funny?” laughed the jackass from the tree-top. “Now on we go. I’ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu Royal. Quick march!”No bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as Emu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat, the mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became accustomed to the long swinging[321]stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed to know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any aid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed smoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other purpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with his demoniacal laughter.They went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange steed seemed to say, “Berty Wake’s going home. The lost is found—Berty’s coming home.”Hills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them like a drifting cloud.Then, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall gum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as a carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave a sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on the broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what had happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.The boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in view, not even the laughing jackass.Then he laughedin childish glee and clapped his hands.[322]“Why, this is Fir Tree Hollow,” he said, half laughing, half crying. “Don’t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there’s the sheep track leading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of our fence. Why, I’m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!”A reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a neighbouring copse.“Gracious me! That’s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a hundred. Coo-ee!”And the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by the forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.“Where have you been hiding yourself?” cried Berty, fondling the pony. “Don’t you know I’ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?”Another neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little fellow’s shoulder.“Ah, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I’ve had some trouble to find you; but ‘better late than never’ as dad says. Now won’t they be pleased to see me? and shan’t I be glad to see them?”Vaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track towards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in[323]view of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting for the lost one.A loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little Berty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with emotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his passionate kisses.“Where did you get to, my son?”“Oh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.”Mother and father exchange glances.“The child has had a touch of the sun,” says the latter, stroking Berty’s curls.“Where did the jackass find you, boy?”“Under a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,” responds the child, extending his arms. “Then he brought a emu—such a big fellow, with a saddle and bridle, you know—and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree Hollow.”Stephen Wake shakes his head.“Put him to bed, wife,” he says quietly; “the poor child is not himself. A good night’s sleep will set him all right again.”And Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and went out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his perch.[324]“Hallo! Jack the Rover,” he said, saluting the bird.The laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at the boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw: “Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!”[325]

[Contents]LIFE AND DEATH.Once upon a time an old man and a fairy sat by the wayside talking.“When the world was first created,” said the elfin, “it was appointed how many years each creature should exist. So the horse came and inquired how long he was to live.“ ‘Thirty years,’ he was told, and then was asked, ‘Is that sufficient?’“ ‘Alas!’ replied the beast, ‘that is a long time. Think how many wearisome burdens I shall have to carry from morning to night beneath a hot sun, that man, my master, may eat bread and live at ease, and I receive nothing but blows and hard words, and must yet keep always active and obliging. The time is too long. Take away some of my years, I pray.’“So the horse was pitied, and a life of only eighteen years was appointed to him. Whereupon he went gladly away; and the dog then made his appearance and asked,—[278]“ ‘What is the duration of my life?’“ ‘How long do you wish to live?’ was inquired of him. ‘Thirty years was allotted to the horse, but that was too much for him; perhaps you will be satisfied with that term?’“ ‘Do you think so?’ answered the dog. ‘Remember how much I shall have to run and bark and bite. My feet will not last the time, and when I have lost my voice and my teeth, and can neither bark nor bite, what will then be for me but to crawl and howl from one corner to another?’“Therefore the dog’s plea was granted, and twelve years appointed for his age. After which he departed and made room for the monkey.“ ‘You will live thirty years willingly, no doubt,’ was said to the ape. ‘You need not work like the horse or the dog, and therefore will always be well off.’“ ‘Indeed, it should be so’ replied Jacko, ‘but I have found it different. Mine is anything but a life of indolence. I must always be aping my betters, and making comical faces for people to laugh at. Many a hard nut I have to crack. And as sadness is often hidden beneath a grin, so have I to show my teeth, even if they are aching with pain. Please shorten the years of my life.’ So ten years were allotted to him.[279]“Last of all man appeared, healthy and vigorous, and requested a term to be appointed to him.“ ‘You shall live thirty years,’ was the reply. ‘Is that enough?’“ ‘What a short time!’ exclaimed the man. ‘Just when I shall have cleared my land, built myself a house, and lighted a fire upon my own hearth, and I am thinking of enjoying life, I must die. I pray let my life be lengthened.’“ ‘Very well. The eighteen years of the horse shall be added.’“ ‘That is not sufficient,’ said man.“ ‘You shall have also twelve years of the dog’s life thereto.’“ ‘Still too little,’ replied the man.“ ‘Then you may have the ten years allowed to the monkey, but you must desire no more.’“Man was then obliged to leave, but he was not satisfied.“Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are the days of his manhood, which pass quickly away; he is then strong and lusty, works with pleasure, and rejoices in his being. Then follow the eighteen years of the life of the horse which brings in its train burdens which he must bear from the rising to the setting of the sun, and wherein blame and abuse often reward him for[280]his labours. Next come the twelve years of the dog, during which man has to sit in corners, because he has lost the power to bark and bite. And when this time is up the ten years of the monkey bring the close of the scene, for in these man becomes foolish, gabbers and jabbers without end, and is fit for nothing but——”The elfin paused, and gazed earnestly at the mortal.“But what?” cried the old man.“But—Death. The portal which leads into thevast unknown, and from which we elves are debarred,” responded the fairy.“And what is Death?”“A certainty, O mortal, for all thy race. No more or less than that. Ere I go hence from thee for ever hear this fable:—“In olden times a giant wrestled with this terrible enemy Death, and vanquished him. As the grim foe lay helpless by the wayside he began to grumble. ‘What will be the consequence of my downfall to the world? If I lie here, then it will be so full and crowded with humanity that they will not be able to move for each other.’“Just then a young man came up the road, strong and healthy, singing a song, and looking well about him. As soon as he perceived the[281]conquered one he went up to him, and compassionately raising him, bound up his wounds, and nursed him until strength returned.“ ‘Do you know who I am?’ asked Death, when he was fairly on his legs again.“ ‘No,’ replied the youth. ‘I know you not.’“ ‘I am Death,’ he replied. ‘I spare no one, and can take no excuse from you even. But to show you that I am not ungrateful, I promise not to take you unawares, but I will send my messengers before I come and fetch you.’“ ‘Very well,’ said the young man, ‘that is a bargain. Until your harbingers come I shall be safe from you.’“With this understanding the mortal pursued his way merrily, and lived in prosperity for some time; but youth and health will not remain for ever. Pain and sickness and grief came, and the man complained that there was no rest for him night or day. ‘I shall not die,’ he said, ‘for Death must first send his messengers; but I wish these fearful days of illness were over.’“Health returned again, and he began to live as usual. One day, somebody knocked at the window, and looking round he saw Death standing behind him. ‘Follow me,’ he said.“ ‘How so?’ exclaimed the mortal. ‘Will you[282]break the promise that you made to me, that your servants should first give me notice ere you appeared? I have not seen them.’“ ‘Be silent,’ replied Death. ‘Have I not sent you one messenger after another? Did not fever come and seize you and lay you prostrate? Did not racking pain oppress your limbs, noises sound in your ears, a dimness cover your eyes? Above all, did not my twin brother, Sleep, remind you every night that I should come?’“And the man knew not what to reply, and was therefore taken away.”When the elfin had thus spoken he vanished from the mortal’s view.[283]

LIFE AND DEATH.

Once upon a time an old man and a fairy sat by the wayside talking.“When the world was first created,” said the elfin, “it was appointed how many years each creature should exist. So the horse came and inquired how long he was to live.“ ‘Thirty years,’ he was told, and then was asked, ‘Is that sufficient?’“ ‘Alas!’ replied the beast, ‘that is a long time. Think how many wearisome burdens I shall have to carry from morning to night beneath a hot sun, that man, my master, may eat bread and live at ease, and I receive nothing but blows and hard words, and must yet keep always active and obliging. The time is too long. Take away some of my years, I pray.’“So the horse was pitied, and a life of only eighteen years was appointed to him. Whereupon he went gladly away; and the dog then made his appearance and asked,—[278]“ ‘What is the duration of my life?’“ ‘How long do you wish to live?’ was inquired of him. ‘Thirty years was allotted to the horse, but that was too much for him; perhaps you will be satisfied with that term?’“ ‘Do you think so?’ answered the dog. ‘Remember how much I shall have to run and bark and bite. My feet will not last the time, and when I have lost my voice and my teeth, and can neither bark nor bite, what will then be for me but to crawl and howl from one corner to another?’“Therefore the dog’s plea was granted, and twelve years appointed for his age. After which he departed and made room for the monkey.“ ‘You will live thirty years willingly, no doubt,’ was said to the ape. ‘You need not work like the horse or the dog, and therefore will always be well off.’“ ‘Indeed, it should be so’ replied Jacko, ‘but I have found it different. Mine is anything but a life of indolence. I must always be aping my betters, and making comical faces for people to laugh at. Many a hard nut I have to crack. And as sadness is often hidden beneath a grin, so have I to show my teeth, even if they are aching with pain. Please shorten the years of my life.’ So ten years were allotted to him.[279]“Last of all man appeared, healthy and vigorous, and requested a term to be appointed to him.“ ‘You shall live thirty years,’ was the reply. ‘Is that enough?’“ ‘What a short time!’ exclaimed the man. ‘Just when I shall have cleared my land, built myself a house, and lighted a fire upon my own hearth, and I am thinking of enjoying life, I must die. I pray let my life be lengthened.’“ ‘Very well. The eighteen years of the horse shall be added.’“ ‘That is not sufficient,’ said man.“ ‘You shall have also twelve years of the dog’s life thereto.’“ ‘Still too little,’ replied the man.“ ‘Then you may have the ten years allowed to the monkey, but you must desire no more.’“Man was then obliged to leave, but he was not satisfied.“Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are the days of his manhood, which pass quickly away; he is then strong and lusty, works with pleasure, and rejoices in his being. Then follow the eighteen years of the life of the horse which brings in its train burdens which he must bear from the rising to the setting of the sun, and wherein blame and abuse often reward him for[280]his labours. Next come the twelve years of the dog, during which man has to sit in corners, because he has lost the power to bark and bite. And when this time is up the ten years of the monkey bring the close of the scene, for in these man becomes foolish, gabbers and jabbers without end, and is fit for nothing but——”The elfin paused, and gazed earnestly at the mortal.“But what?” cried the old man.“But—Death. The portal which leads into thevast unknown, and from which we elves are debarred,” responded the fairy.“And what is Death?”“A certainty, O mortal, for all thy race. No more or less than that. Ere I go hence from thee for ever hear this fable:—“In olden times a giant wrestled with this terrible enemy Death, and vanquished him. As the grim foe lay helpless by the wayside he began to grumble. ‘What will be the consequence of my downfall to the world? If I lie here, then it will be so full and crowded with humanity that they will not be able to move for each other.’“Just then a young man came up the road, strong and healthy, singing a song, and looking well about him. As soon as he perceived the[281]conquered one he went up to him, and compassionately raising him, bound up his wounds, and nursed him until strength returned.“ ‘Do you know who I am?’ asked Death, when he was fairly on his legs again.“ ‘No,’ replied the youth. ‘I know you not.’“ ‘I am Death,’ he replied. ‘I spare no one, and can take no excuse from you even. But to show you that I am not ungrateful, I promise not to take you unawares, but I will send my messengers before I come and fetch you.’“ ‘Very well,’ said the young man, ‘that is a bargain. Until your harbingers come I shall be safe from you.’“With this understanding the mortal pursued his way merrily, and lived in prosperity for some time; but youth and health will not remain for ever. Pain and sickness and grief came, and the man complained that there was no rest for him night or day. ‘I shall not die,’ he said, ‘for Death must first send his messengers; but I wish these fearful days of illness were over.’“Health returned again, and he began to live as usual. One day, somebody knocked at the window, and looking round he saw Death standing behind him. ‘Follow me,’ he said.“ ‘How so?’ exclaimed the mortal. ‘Will you[282]break the promise that you made to me, that your servants should first give me notice ere you appeared? I have not seen them.’“ ‘Be silent,’ replied Death. ‘Have I not sent you one messenger after another? Did not fever come and seize you and lay you prostrate? Did not racking pain oppress your limbs, noises sound in your ears, a dimness cover your eyes? Above all, did not my twin brother, Sleep, remind you every night that I should come?’“And the man knew not what to reply, and was therefore taken away.”When the elfin had thus spoken he vanished from the mortal’s view.[283]

Once upon a time an old man and a fairy sat by the wayside talking.

“When the world was first created,” said the elfin, “it was appointed how many years each creature should exist. So the horse came and inquired how long he was to live.

“ ‘Thirty years,’ he was told, and then was asked, ‘Is that sufficient?’

“ ‘Alas!’ replied the beast, ‘that is a long time. Think how many wearisome burdens I shall have to carry from morning to night beneath a hot sun, that man, my master, may eat bread and live at ease, and I receive nothing but blows and hard words, and must yet keep always active and obliging. The time is too long. Take away some of my years, I pray.’

“So the horse was pitied, and a life of only eighteen years was appointed to him. Whereupon he went gladly away; and the dog then made his appearance and asked,—[278]

“ ‘What is the duration of my life?’

“ ‘How long do you wish to live?’ was inquired of him. ‘Thirty years was allotted to the horse, but that was too much for him; perhaps you will be satisfied with that term?’

“ ‘Do you think so?’ answered the dog. ‘Remember how much I shall have to run and bark and bite. My feet will not last the time, and when I have lost my voice and my teeth, and can neither bark nor bite, what will then be for me but to crawl and howl from one corner to another?’

“Therefore the dog’s plea was granted, and twelve years appointed for his age. After which he departed and made room for the monkey.

“ ‘You will live thirty years willingly, no doubt,’ was said to the ape. ‘You need not work like the horse or the dog, and therefore will always be well off.’

“ ‘Indeed, it should be so’ replied Jacko, ‘but I have found it different. Mine is anything but a life of indolence. I must always be aping my betters, and making comical faces for people to laugh at. Many a hard nut I have to crack. And as sadness is often hidden beneath a grin, so have I to show my teeth, even if they are aching with pain. Please shorten the years of my life.’ So ten years were allotted to him.[279]

“Last of all man appeared, healthy and vigorous, and requested a term to be appointed to him.

“ ‘You shall live thirty years,’ was the reply. ‘Is that enough?’

“ ‘What a short time!’ exclaimed the man. ‘Just when I shall have cleared my land, built myself a house, and lighted a fire upon my own hearth, and I am thinking of enjoying life, I must die. I pray let my life be lengthened.’

“ ‘Very well. The eighteen years of the horse shall be added.’

“ ‘That is not sufficient,’ said man.

“ ‘You shall have also twelve years of the dog’s life thereto.’

“ ‘Still too little,’ replied the man.

“ ‘Then you may have the ten years allowed to the monkey, but you must desire no more.’

“Man was then obliged to leave, but he was not satisfied.

“Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are the days of his manhood, which pass quickly away; he is then strong and lusty, works with pleasure, and rejoices in his being. Then follow the eighteen years of the life of the horse which brings in its train burdens which he must bear from the rising to the setting of the sun, and wherein blame and abuse often reward him for[280]his labours. Next come the twelve years of the dog, during which man has to sit in corners, because he has lost the power to bark and bite. And when this time is up the ten years of the monkey bring the close of the scene, for in these man becomes foolish, gabbers and jabbers without end, and is fit for nothing but——”

The elfin paused, and gazed earnestly at the mortal.

“But what?” cried the old man.

“But—Death. The portal which leads into thevast unknown, and from which we elves are debarred,” responded the fairy.

“And what is Death?”

“A certainty, O mortal, for all thy race. No more or less than that. Ere I go hence from thee for ever hear this fable:—

“In olden times a giant wrestled with this terrible enemy Death, and vanquished him. As the grim foe lay helpless by the wayside he began to grumble. ‘What will be the consequence of my downfall to the world? If I lie here, then it will be so full and crowded with humanity that they will not be able to move for each other.’

“Just then a young man came up the road, strong and healthy, singing a song, and looking well about him. As soon as he perceived the[281]conquered one he went up to him, and compassionately raising him, bound up his wounds, and nursed him until strength returned.

“ ‘Do you know who I am?’ asked Death, when he was fairly on his legs again.

“ ‘No,’ replied the youth. ‘I know you not.’

“ ‘I am Death,’ he replied. ‘I spare no one, and can take no excuse from you even. But to show you that I am not ungrateful, I promise not to take you unawares, but I will send my messengers before I come and fetch you.’

“ ‘Very well,’ said the young man, ‘that is a bargain. Until your harbingers come I shall be safe from you.’

“With this understanding the mortal pursued his way merrily, and lived in prosperity for some time; but youth and health will not remain for ever. Pain and sickness and grief came, and the man complained that there was no rest for him night or day. ‘I shall not die,’ he said, ‘for Death must first send his messengers; but I wish these fearful days of illness were over.’

“Health returned again, and he began to live as usual. One day, somebody knocked at the window, and looking round he saw Death standing behind him. ‘Follow me,’ he said.

“ ‘How so?’ exclaimed the mortal. ‘Will you[282]break the promise that you made to me, that your servants should first give me notice ere you appeared? I have not seen them.’

“ ‘Be silent,’ replied Death. ‘Have I not sent you one messenger after another? Did not fever come and seize you and lay you prostrate? Did not racking pain oppress your limbs, noises sound in your ears, a dimness cover your eyes? Above all, did not my twin brother, Sleep, remind you every night that I should come?’

“And the man knew not what to reply, and was therefore taken away.”

When the elfin had thus spoken he vanished from the mortal’s view.[283]

[Contents]GIANTS.I, Martin Crowe, am a book-loving vagabond. Reading hath charms for me not to be found in men or women. My few quaint volumes are my companions and my friends. True, I cannot borrow money from, or use them according to my worldly necessity; nevertheless, they speak to me in many voices, some in tones of deep wisdom, others in the witchery of suggestive imagery, until my humble study, with its scanty furniture and bare walls, vanish altogether from my outward senses.It is late. On this long winter night I have been deep into the pages of the famous astronomer, Newton; and although I have laid down the book before me on the table, my mind is still busy at the threshold of the mysterious realm of Nature, to which I have been introduced by the wand of the magician. If knowledge is power, it sometimes happens that the power does not bring happiness in its train, but often assumes strange shapes.[284]As I sat and looked with vacant eyes at what, for the moment, I saw not, behold the table before me became gradually luminous. At first the light was flickering and uncertain, rising and falling in a shapeless mass, but it quickly brightened into a spiral-shaped luminary, which presently assumed the form of a venerable old man.I cannot venture an opinion as to the means employed by my strange visitor for his entrance into my chamber, any more than you can explain to me the manifestations of clairvoyance and electro-biology.From the first appearance of the light, and during the subsequent gradations which qualified my vision to discover a personage with the aspect of a seer of the olden time standing at my side, I have no clear idea of anything save that of being held by an all-powerful spell towards him. I had studied animal magnetism, and curative mesmerism under Tom Buckland, and knew a thing or two with reference to passes, currents, and counter-currents, but I found my will ebbing away before the steady fingers and calm eyes of the stranger, whose stronger influence seemed to wrap me round and round as with a band of steel, utterly powerless to speak or move, except at the will of my companion. Yet I felt my sensations[285]in rapid play to all around me. Nay, more, the sense of hearing and observation seemed marvellously quickened within me, and the intensity of thought brightened from the gross element which had previously partially obscured it. The shape found voice, and addressed me:—“Young man, I am the guardian of Nature’s chief secrets,” it said, replying to the unasked question on my lip. “Men call me Knowledge, but my name is Science. What dost thou want with me?”I found the power of speech return to me ere the last words were uttered.“Let me behold some of Nature’s secrets,” I cried eagerly.“Thou art a bold mortal.”“I am earnest. Even as the aspiring thoughts that meet me in this book, I would soar and know.”“Of course,” replied the voice. “Although I come to thee in fairy form and guise, I am the servant of thought. It was not the uttered word that did summon me, but the force of the inward wish to understand within thee. Well, I am here. If thou wouldst see some of the giants of the future, follow me.”I had no will but to follow him, as he led the way out of the doorway into the silent night, under[286]the whispering trees beyond the city, across the bridge of the river, and away to the summit of a hill, with the waves of the gulf thundering at its base.“All human knowledge commences in dreams,” he said in a low tone. “Trance hovers over measureless secrets, and forms the first faint bridge between them and thought. Look steadfastly on the moon yonder.”I obeyed in silence. I had no power otherwise than to obey. As I gazed, the pale orb of night appeared to expand and dilate until its luminous circumference diffused all space, and in the midst of this shining atmosphere I became aware of a strange sense of heavenly liberty pervading my whole being. It seemed as if hitherto I had been bound with a strong chain, which had suddenly snapped asunder, and had yielded me unutterable freedom from the body, and had imparted a bird-like lightness which floated me into space itself. Through this space a swift succession of shadowy landscapes rolled; mountains, trees, cities, ships, and inland seas glided along, like the drifting clouds seen in a stormy sky, until at length, settled and stationary, I saw a vast cave in the heart of a gloomy forest.“Enter, and beware of Fear,” cried the voice at[287]my side. At the sound the ecstasy and lightness which had been upon me faded away, and a sort of languor seized my frame, without communicating itself to the mind.Downward by a stairway of rugged rock I was led into what seemed a terrible abyss. Round and round in spiral form we descended for many miles, amid noises loud and new to me, when our farther progress was abruptly stopped by a massive door formed in the solid rock, and which was guarded by monsters of various shapes, called Ignorance. Erect and threatening they rose to crush me, but at sight of my conductor they fell down again in abject submission and opened the door; whereupon we passed into a mighty cavern, so wide and so lofty that its magnitude astounded me, its limit reaching far beyond my range of vision. Here I beheld huge giants, mightier than ever appeared in legend or fairy tale. Many were toiling hard, some lay reclining, as if just awakened from a deep sleep; while others slumbered peacefully. Dim and indistinct as the light here glimmered, I could see the ponderous shapes plainly. With the will to question my guide came the power of speech.“Who is yonder fellow,” I asked, “seated astride the trident rock? What huge limbs he has!”[288]“That is young Australia,” replied the voice. “The ages have cradled him. He is only a baby awakened out of his first sleep. I predict the infant will develop into a magnificent giant by-and-by,” rejoined the voice.“What is the name of this powerful-looking creature here with the gigantic head?” I inquired, pointing to a monster who seemed but just awakened from a long nap.“Electricity. It is a name but little known as yet,” replied the sage, “but your children will see this new land filled with its wonders. You see the giant has only been disturbed, not awakened.”“Why do they not rouse him up to action, O wise sage?”“Because the time for him to use his great and varied powers has not come,” answered the voice gravely. “Powers wrested from Nature for the benefit of mankind may be also turned into a scourge for the innocent. A Titan war is waging ever among men, the good for ever on the defensive, the bad for ever in assault. Perchance ’tis well the giant sleeps.”“There is another giant standing near Electricity, whose proud look I have often noted on the faces of men I have met. Who is he?”[289]“He is called Money, otherwise Cash, often Hard Cash,” replied the voice in answer. “Truly he is a powerful fellow. Sometimes great and god-like in his liberality, at other times he is mean and selfish. Mark what an affinity between him and the prostrate monster. In the far-off future, I see them hand-in-hand together, working a wonderful change on the face of Nature and in the condition of mankind.” A faint smile passed across the features of the sage as he uttered the words.“One question more. Pray tell me the name of yon noble creature who seems as though he were able to prop the globe single-handed?”“Ah, that is the twin brother of young Australia, and his name is Enterprise,” added the voice proudly. “Up and doing, early and late, ever active and daring in speculation. Australian Enterprise has promised that this, his country, shall be the commercial focus of the earth some time in the future, which shall also uprouse these slumbering giants.”The voice ceased speaking; but another voice, well known to my waking ears as that of my landlady, filled the vacuum, with the following choice sentence:—“Mr. Crowe, I hopes you remember that I’m a[290]widder with five innercent children to keep, and can’t afford to let you fall asleep and burn every drop of ile out of the lamp for a guinea a week, washing included! There now!”[291]

GIANTS.

I, Martin Crowe, am a book-loving vagabond. Reading hath charms for me not to be found in men or women. My few quaint volumes are my companions and my friends. True, I cannot borrow money from, or use them according to my worldly necessity; nevertheless, they speak to me in many voices, some in tones of deep wisdom, others in the witchery of suggestive imagery, until my humble study, with its scanty furniture and bare walls, vanish altogether from my outward senses.It is late. On this long winter night I have been deep into the pages of the famous astronomer, Newton; and although I have laid down the book before me on the table, my mind is still busy at the threshold of the mysterious realm of Nature, to which I have been introduced by the wand of the magician. If knowledge is power, it sometimes happens that the power does not bring happiness in its train, but often assumes strange shapes.[284]As I sat and looked with vacant eyes at what, for the moment, I saw not, behold the table before me became gradually luminous. At first the light was flickering and uncertain, rising and falling in a shapeless mass, but it quickly brightened into a spiral-shaped luminary, which presently assumed the form of a venerable old man.I cannot venture an opinion as to the means employed by my strange visitor for his entrance into my chamber, any more than you can explain to me the manifestations of clairvoyance and electro-biology.From the first appearance of the light, and during the subsequent gradations which qualified my vision to discover a personage with the aspect of a seer of the olden time standing at my side, I have no clear idea of anything save that of being held by an all-powerful spell towards him. I had studied animal magnetism, and curative mesmerism under Tom Buckland, and knew a thing or two with reference to passes, currents, and counter-currents, but I found my will ebbing away before the steady fingers and calm eyes of the stranger, whose stronger influence seemed to wrap me round and round as with a band of steel, utterly powerless to speak or move, except at the will of my companion. Yet I felt my sensations[285]in rapid play to all around me. Nay, more, the sense of hearing and observation seemed marvellously quickened within me, and the intensity of thought brightened from the gross element which had previously partially obscured it. The shape found voice, and addressed me:—“Young man, I am the guardian of Nature’s chief secrets,” it said, replying to the unasked question on my lip. “Men call me Knowledge, but my name is Science. What dost thou want with me?”I found the power of speech return to me ere the last words were uttered.“Let me behold some of Nature’s secrets,” I cried eagerly.“Thou art a bold mortal.”“I am earnest. Even as the aspiring thoughts that meet me in this book, I would soar and know.”“Of course,” replied the voice. “Although I come to thee in fairy form and guise, I am the servant of thought. It was not the uttered word that did summon me, but the force of the inward wish to understand within thee. Well, I am here. If thou wouldst see some of the giants of the future, follow me.”I had no will but to follow him, as he led the way out of the doorway into the silent night, under[286]the whispering trees beyond the city, across the bridge of the river, and away to the summit of a hill, with the waves of the gulf thundering at its base.“All human knowledge commences in dreams,” he said in a low tone. “Trance hovers over measureless secrets, and forms the first faint bridge between them and thought. Look steadfastly on the moon yonder.”I obeyed in silence. I had no power otherwise than to obey. As I gazed, the pale orb of night appeared to expand and dilate until its luminous circumference diffused all space, and in the midst of this shining atmosphere I became aware of a strange sense of heavenly liberty pervading my whole being. It seemed as if hitherto I had been bound with a strong chain, which had suddenly snapped asunder, and had yielded me unutterable freedom from the body, and had imparted a bird-like lightness which floated me into space itself. Through this space a swift succession of shadowy landscapes rolled; mountains, trees, cities, ships, and inland seas glided along, like the drifting clouds seen in a stormy sky, until at length, settled and stationary, I saw a vast cave in the heart of a gloomy forest.“Enter, and beware of Fear,” cried the voice at[287]my side. At the sound the ecstasy and lightness which had been upon me faded away, and a sort of languor seized my frame, without communicating itself to the mind.Downward by a stairway of rugged rock I was led into what seemed a terrible abyss. Round and round in spiral form we descended for many miles, amid noises loud and new to me, when our farther progress was abruptly stopped by a massive door formed in the solid rock, and which was guarded by monsters of various shapes, called Ignorance. Erect and threatening they rose to crush me, but at sight of my conductor they fell down again in abject submission and opened the door; whereupon we passed into a mighty cavern, so wide and so lofty that its magnitude astounded me, its limit reaching far beyond my range of vision. Here I beheld huge giants, mightier than ever appeared in legend or fairy tale. Many were toiling hard, some lay reclining, as if just awakened from a deep sleep; while others slumbered peacefully. Dim and indistinct as the light here glimmered, I could see the ponderous shapes plainly. With the will to question my guide came the power of speech.“Who is yonder fellow,” I asked, “seated astride the trident rock? What huge limbs he has!”[288]“That is young Australia,” replied the voice. “The ages have cradled him. He is only a baby awakened out of his first sleep. I predict the infant will develop into a magnificent giant by-and-by,” rejoined the voice.“What is the name of this powerful-looking creature here with the gigantic head?” I inquired, pointing to a monster who seemed but just awakened from a long nap.“Electricity. It is a name but little known as yet,” replied the sage, “but your children will see this new land filled with its wonders. You see the giant has only been disturbed, not awakened.”“Why do they not rouse him up to action, O wise sage?”“Because the time for him to use his great and varied powers has not come,” answered the voice gravely. “Powers wrested from Nature for the benefit of mankind may be also turned into a scourge for the innocent. A Titan war is waging ever among men, the good for ever on the defensive, the bad for ever in assault. Perchance ’tis well the giant sleeps.”“There is another giant standing near Electricity, whose proud look I have often noted on the faces of men I have met. Who is he?”[289]“He is called Money, otherwise Cash, often Hard Cash,” replied the voice in answer. “Truly he is a powerful fellow. Sometimes great and god-like in his liberality, at other times he is mean and selfish. Mark what an affinity between him and the prostrate monster. In the far-off future, I see them hand-in-hand together, working a wonderful change on the face of Nature and in the condition of mankind.” A faint smile passed across the features of the sage as he uttered the words.“One question more. Pray tell me the name of yon noble creature who seems as though he were able to prop the globe single-handed?”“Ah, that is the twin brother of young Australia, and his name is Enterprise,” added the voice proudly. “Up and doing, early and late, ever active and daring in speculation. Australian Enterprise has promised that this, his country, shall be the commercial focus of the earth some time in the future, which shall also uprouse these slumbering giants.”The voice ceased speaking; but another voice, well known to my waking ears as that of my landlady, filled the vacuum, with the following choice sentence:—“Mr. Crowe, I hopes you remember that I’m a[290]widder with five innercent children to keep, and can’t afford to let you fall asleep and burn every drop of ile out of the lamp for a guinea a week, washing included! There now!”[291]

I, Martin Crowe, am a book-loving vagabond. Reading hath charms for me not to be found in men or women. My few quaint volumes are my companions and my friends. True, I cannot borrow money from, or use them according to my worldly necessity; nevertheless, they speak to me in many voices, some in tones of deep wisdom, others in the witchery of suggestive imagery, until my humble study, with its scanty furniture and bare walls, vanish altogether from my outward senses.

It is late. On this long winter night I have been deep into the pages of the famous astronomer, Newton; and although I have laid down the book before me on the table, my mind is still busy at the threshold of the mysterious realm of Nature, to which I have been introduced by the wand of the magician. If knowledge is power, it sometimes happens that the power does not bring happiness in its train, but often assumes strange shapes.[284]As I sat and looked with vacant eyes at what, for the moment, I saw not, behold the table before me became gradually luminous. At first the light was flickering and uncertain, rising and falling in a shapeless mass, but it quickly brightened into a spiral-shaped luminary, which presently assumed the form of a venerable old man.

I cannot venture an opinion as to the means employed by my strange visitor for his entrance into my chamber, any more than you can explain to me the manifestations of clairvoyance and electro-biology.

From the first appearance of the light, and during the subsequent gradations which qualified my vision to discover a personage with the aspect of a seer of the olden time standing at my side, I have no clear idea of anything save that of being held by an all-powerful spell towards him. I had studied animal magnetism, and curative mesmerism under Tom Buckland, and knew a thing or two with reference to passes, currents, and counter-currents, but I found my will ebbing away before the steady fingers and calm eyes of the stranger, whose stronger influence seemed to wrap me round and round as with a band of steel, utterly powerless to speak or move, except at the will of my companion. Yet I felt my sensations[285]in rapid play to all around me. Nay, more, the sense of hearing and observation seemed marvellously quickened within me, and the intensity of thought brightened from the gross element which had previously partially obscured it. The shape found voice, and addressed me:—

“Young man, I am the guardian of Nature’s chief secrets,” it said, replying to the unasked question on my lip. “Men call me Knowledge, but my name is Science. What dost thou want with me?”

I found the power of speech return to me ere the last words were uttered.

“Let me behold some of Nature’s secrets,” I cried eagerly.

“Thou art a bold mortal.”

“I am earnest. Even as the aspiring thoughts that meet me in this book, I would soar and know.”

“Of course,” replied the voice. “Although I come to thee in fairy form and guise, I am the servant of thought. It was not the uttered word that did summon me, but the force of the inward wish to understand within thee. Well, I am here. If thou wouldst see some of the giants of the future, follow me.”

I had no will but to follow him, as he led the way out of the doorway into the silent night, under[286]the whispering trees beyond the city, across the bridge of the river, and away to the summit of a hill, with the waves of the gulf thundering at its base.

“All human knowledge commences in dreams,” he said in a low tone. “Trance hovers over measureless secrets, and forms the first faint bridge between them and thought. Look steadfastly on the moon yonder.”

I obeyed in silence. I had no power otherwise than to obey. As I gazed, the pale orb of night appeared to expand and dilate until its luminous circumference diffused all space, and in the midst of this shining atmosphere I became aware of a strange sense of heavenly liberty pervading my whole being. It seemed as if hitherto I had been bound with a strong chain, which had suddenly snapped asunder, and had yielded me unutterable freedom from the body, and had imparted a bird-like lightness which floated me into space itself. Through this space a swift succession of shadowy landscapes rolled; mountains, trees, cities, ships, and inland seas glided along, like the drifting clouds seen in a stormy sky, until at length, settled and stationary, I saw a vast cave in the heart of a gloomy forest.

“Enter, and beware of Fear,” cried the voice at[287]my side. At the sound the ecstasy and lightness which had been upon me faded away, and a sort of languor seized my frame, without communicating itself to the mind.

Downward by a stairway of rugged rock I was led into what seemed a terrible abyss. Round and round in spiral form we descended for many miles, amid noises loud and new to me, when our farther progress was abruptly stopped by a massive door formed in the solid rock, and which was guarded by monsters of various shapes, called Ignorance. Erect and threatening they rose to crush me, but at sight of my conductor they fell down again in abject submission and opened the door; whereupon we passed into a mighty cavern, so wide and so lofty that its magnitude astounded me, its limit reaching far beyond my range of vision. Here I beheld huge giants, mightier than ever appeared in legend or fairy tale. Many were toiling hard, some lay reclining, as if just awakened from a deep sleep; while others slumbered peacefully. Dim and indistinct as the light here glimmered, I could see the ponderous shapes plainly. With the will to question my guide came the power of speech.

“Who is yonder fellow,” I asked, “seated astride the trident rock? What huge limbs he has!”[288]

“That is young Australia,” replied the voice. “The ages have cradled him. He is only a baby awakened out of his first sleep. I predict the infant will develop into a magnificent giant by-and-by,” rejoined the voice.

“What is the name of this powerful-looking creature here with the gigantic head?” I inquired, pointing to a monster who seemed but just awakened from a long nap.

“Electricity. It is a name but little known as yet,” replied the sage, “but your children will see this new land filled with its wonders. You see the giant has only been disturbed, not awakened.”

“Why do they not rouse him up to action, O wise sage?”

“Because the time for him to use his great and varied powers has not come,” answered the voice gravely. “Powers wrested from Nature for the benefit of mankind may be also turned into a scourge for the innocent. A Titan war is waging ever among men, the good for ever on the defensive, the bad for ever in assault. Perchance ’tis well the giant sleeps.”

“There is another giant standing near Electricity, whose proud look I have often noted on the faces of men I have met. Who is he?”[289]

“He is called Money, otherwise Cash, often Hard Cash,” replied the voice in answer. “Truly he is a powerful fellow. Sometimes great and god-like in his liberality, at other times he is mean and selfish. Mark what an affinity between him and the prostrate monster. In the far-off future, I see them hand-in-hand together, working a wonderful change on the face of Nature and in the condition of mankind.” A faint smile passed across the features of the sage as he uttered the words.

“One question more. Pray tell me the name of yon noble creature who seems as though he were able to prop the globe single-handed?”

“Ah, that is the twin brother of young Australia, and his name is Enterprise,” added the voice proudly. “Up and doing, early and late, ever active and daring in speculation. Australian Enterprise has promised that this, his country, shall be the commercial focus of the earth some time in the future, which shall also uprouse these slumbering giants.”

The voice ceased speaking; but another voice, well known to my waking ears as that of my landlady, filled the vacuum, with the following choice sentence:—

“Mr. Crowe, I hopes you remember that I’m a[290]widder with five innercent children to keep, and can’t afford to let you fall asleep and burn every drop of ile out of the lamp for a guinea a week, washing included! There now!”[291]

[Contents]THE KANGAROO HUNTER.[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE LOST DRESS.His hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland, away north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead such a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is that he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the out-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.One day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded farther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was returning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an article of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead halt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment as if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the linen, and the more he examined it the more[292]puzzled he became at the discovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a blackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a solitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and thought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.Somewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice calling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark, but he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk, and at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”“Here I am,” he answered. “What do you want?”“Please give me back—my—my—dress,” replied the voice in hesitating tones.“Eh? what?” cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you say?Your dress?”“If you please,” continued the voice pleadingly, “the article you found on the shore of the lake yesterday—it is mine. Pray return it to me.”“Oh!” said Bob, “why,thatwas a lady’s——”“I know it,” rejoined the voice quickly. “Oh dear. It is mine. I am a lady.”“Pray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.”[293]“It is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,” replied the voice.“Indeed!” ejaculated Bob, “that is a pity. However, I will return to you what I found upon one condition.”“What condition?”“Tell me who you are.”“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,”[294]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from herthraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,—[295]“Hello! Who are you?”The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”“‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’”“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”“Certainly,” replied our hero; “come down and I’ll share with you.”The strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a very short time he devoured the lion’s share of the lunch, and he and our hero became very friendly.[296]“What kind of bird are you?”“I’m a gum-hawk,” cried he, stretching his huge wings. “We are the giants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.”“You are a monster,” responded Bob in admiration. “I suppose you are quite strong enough to carry a man like me?”“I’d carry two such as you,” answered the gum-hawk quietly. “Only try me.”“Perhaps I may,” said Bob. “Do you know a place named the Granite Cliff?”“Rather; are you going there?”“Yes,” answered Bob, “if I may depend on you to convey me so far.”“Of course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get on my back,” and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with him into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly, but without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his elevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far ahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out above the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone in the sun like polished marble.“What mountain is that yonder?” he inquired of the gum-hawk.[297]“Mountain! That is the Granite Cliff.”“I have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,” rejoined the hunter after a pause. “The meat shall be yours if you set me down on the summit of the cliff.”“Don’t go there,” answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.“Why?”“Because it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.”“I have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?”“Certainly, if you are determined,” and the friendly bird, finding that our hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left him.The summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it to be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in itself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house, and before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of dense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.The young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the noise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the clouds were rolling along.Bob stepped up to the door of the hut and[298]gave it a hard thump with his gun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it She had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she asked him how he came there.“A gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this mountain,” responded Bob readily.“Well, what do you want here?”“Entrance, my supper, and a night’s lodgings, dame.”“That you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by difficult work on the morrow.”“I am prepared,” said Bob.“Very well. Come in,” she cried, and immediately closed the door.[Contents]CHAPTER II.QUIZ.There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep[299]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.Poor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing what his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work,[300]but here he was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one; almost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out with a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was determined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain. When noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. “It’s quite hopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it would take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,” he cried, raising his voice. “Indeed, I don’t see the use of making a fuss about it; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch has hid that lady that came to my hut?” And with this new turn to his thoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with the pebbles at his feet.As he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some one cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but he could see no one.“Oh dear! you have struck me on the head!” exclaimed a voice.The hunter rose quickly to his feet “Who and what are you?” he cried.“Can’t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,” repeated the voice.[301]Our hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large frog swimming towards him.“Pray who are you, sir?” inquired Bob, filled with amazement.“I’ll tell you that presently,” responded the frog, as he crawled up the embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long arms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond of his food.“I was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your reproaches with respect to emptying this lake,” said the frog, at the same time bowing very politely to Bob. “May I ask if you seriously intend to attempt the task?”The young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.Froggy listened quietly, and then replied, “Be content. I will help you.”“How can a frog help any one?” cried Bob contemptuously.“Wait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing dress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present. Of course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you like it?”[302]“Are you a fairy?” inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.“I am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I’m Quiz.”“Ah! I’m sorry that stone hit you on the head.”“Never mind. It didn’t hurt me much,” answered Quiz. “Now allow me to help you with your task.”“Can you really help me?”“Certainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with me who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how difficult they may be.”As Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three little men, no bigger than one’s thumb. The first was slim and slender, with a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.“These creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,” continued the sprite, “but they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the smallest of them, can do.” Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to retire a few paces; which he did.“Now, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that water-hole,” cried Quiz.Ere the words had left the elfin’s mouth the[303]wee man advanced, and said, “Out, water—out, fishes,” and immediately the water rose in the air like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while the fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according to their size and species.“Well done, Resolute!” shouted Bob, in ecstasy.“Dame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,” resumed the sprite. “Yet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish them and to rescue the chief’s lovely daughter from her hands. To-morrow I shall see you again.”And with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath his skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he vanished from sight.When evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her staff.“Ah, sluggard!” she cried, “if you have not done the work I gave you I will have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.”Bob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the wide, empty water-hole.Dame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.“Who has done this task for you?” she shouted[304]in unbridled passion. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for my husband’s dinner.”“I sha’n’t tell you anything, dame,” answered Bob. “You gave me a job to do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper, please.”The old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several minutes, and then replied, “Very well, very well; doubtless you are a wonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which will tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”Bob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her breath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper, like a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.[Contents]CHAPTER III.A SLEEPING BEAUTY.When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer,[305]which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”“What errand, dame?”“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”“The lady is here, then?”“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task;[306]but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared[307]to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”[308]“What will you give me if I aid you?”inquired the tiny lady.“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While[309]the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.Long before the evening our hero saw the task[310]completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.“What is that?” he cried.“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her[311]bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.[312]

THE KANGAROO HUNTER.

[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE LOST DRESS.His hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland, away north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead such a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is that he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the out-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.One day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded farther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was returning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an article of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead halt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment as if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the linen, and the more he examined it the more[292]puzzled he became at the discovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a blackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a solitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and thought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.Somewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice calling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark, but he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk, and at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”“Here I am,” he answered. “What do you want?”“Please give me back—my—my—dress,” replied the voice in hesitating tones.“Eh? what?” cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you say?Your dress?”“If you please,” continued the voice pleadingly, “the article you found on the shore of the lake yesterday—it is mine. Pray return it to me.”“Oh!” said Bob, “why,thatwas a lady’s——”“I know it,” rejoined the voice quickly. “Oh dear. It is mine. I am a lady.”“Pray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.”[293]“It is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,” replied the voice.“Indeed!” ejaculated Bob, “that is a pity. However, I will return to you what I found upon one condition.”“What condition?”“Tell me who you are.”“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,”[294]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from herthraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,—[295]“Hello! Who are you?”The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”“‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’”“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”“Certainly,” replied our hero; “come down and I’ll share with you.”The strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a very short time he devoured the lion’s share of the lunch, and he and our hero became very friendly.[296]“What kind of bird are you?”“I’m a gum-hawk,” cried he, stretching his huge wings. “We are the giants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.”“You are a monster,” responded Bob in admiration. “I suppose you are quite strong enough to carry a man like me?”“I’d carry two such as you,” answered the gum-hawk quietly. “Only try me.”“Perhaps I may,” said Bob. “Do you know a place named the Granite Cliff?”“Rather; are you going there?”“Yes,” answered Bob, “if I may depend on you to convey me so far.”“Of course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get on my back,” and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with him into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly, but without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his elevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far ahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out above the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone in the sun like polished marble.“What mountain is that yonder?” he inquired of the gum-hawk.[297]“Mountain! That is the Granite Cliff.”“I have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,” rejoined the hunter after a pause. “The meat shall be yours if you set me down on the summit of the cliff.”“Don’t go there,” answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.“Why?”“Because it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.”“I have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?”“Certainly, if you are determined,” and the friendly bird, finding that our hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left him.The summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it to be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in itself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house, and before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of dense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.The young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the noise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the clouds were rolling along.Bob stepped up to the door of the hut and[298]gave it a hard thump with his gun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it She had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she asked him how he came there.“A gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this mountain,” responded Bob readily.“Well, what do you want here?”“Entrance, my supper, and a night’s lodgings, dame.”“That you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by difficult work on the morrow.”“I am prepared,” said Bob.“Very well. Come in,” she cried, and immediately closed the door.[Contents]CHAPTER II.QUIZ.There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep[299]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.Poor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing what his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work,[300]but here he was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one; almost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out with a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was determined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain. When noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. “It’s quite hopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it would take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,” he cried, raising his voice. “Indeed, I don’t see the use of making a fuss about it; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch has hid that lady that came to my hut?” And with this new turn to his thoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with the pebbles at his feet.As he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some one cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but he could see no one.“Oh dear! you have struck me on the head!” exclaimed a voice.The hunter rose quickly to his feet “Who and what are you?” he cried.“Can’t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,” repeated the voice.[301]Our hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large frog swimming towards him.“Pray who are you, sir?” inquired Bob, filled with amazement.“I’ll tell you that presently,” responded the frog, as he crawled up the embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long arms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond of his food.“I was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your reproaches with respect to emptying this lake,” said the frog, at the same time bowing very politely to Bob. “May I ask if you seriously intend to attempt the task?”The young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.Froggy listened quietly, and then replied, “Be content. I will help you.”“How can a frog help any one?” cried Bob contemptuously.“Wait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing dress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present. Of course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you like it?”[302]“Are you a fairy?” inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.“I am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I’m Quiz.”“Ah! I’m sorry that stone hit you on the head.”“Never mind. It didn’t hurt me much,” answered Quiz. “Now allow me to help you with your task.”“Can you really help me?”“Certainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with me who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how difficult they may be.”As Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three little men, no bigger than one’s thumb. The first was slim and slender, with a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.“These creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,” continued the sprite, “but they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the smallest of them, can do.” Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to retire a few paces; which he did.“Now, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that water-hole,” cried Quiz.Ere the words had left the elfin’s mouth the[303]wee man advanced, and said, “Out, water—out, fishes,” and immediately the water rose in the air like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while the fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according to their size and species.“Well done, Resolute!” shouted Bob, in ecstasy.“Dame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,” resumed the sprite. “Yet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish them and to rescue the chief’s lovely daughter from her hands. To-morrow I shall see you again.”And with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath his skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he vanished from sight.When evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her staff.“Ah, sluggard!” she cried, “if you have not done the work I gave you I will have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.”Bob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the wide, empty water-hole.Dame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.“Who has done this task for you?” she shouted[304]in unbridled passion. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for my husband’s dinner.”“I sha’n’t tell you anything, dame,” answered Bob. “You gave me a job to do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper, please.”The old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several minutes, and then replied, “Very well, very well; doubtless you are a wonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which will tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”Bob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her breath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper, like a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.[Contents]CHAPTER III.A SLEEPING BEAUTY.When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer,[305]which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”“What errand, dame?”“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”“The lady is here, then?”“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task;[306]but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared[307]to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”[308]“What will you give me if I aid you?”inquired the tiny lady.“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While[309]the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.Long before the evening our hero saw the task[310]completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.“What is that?” he cried.“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her[311]bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.[312]

[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE LOST DRESS.His hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland, away north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead such a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is that he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the out-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.One day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded farther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was returning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an article of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead halt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment as if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the linen, and the more he examined it the more[292]puzzled he became at the discovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a blackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a solitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and thought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.Somewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice calling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark, but he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk, and at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”“Here I am,” he answered. “What do you want?”“Please give me back—my—my—dress,” replied the voice in hesitating tones.“Eh? what?” cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you say?Your dress?”“If you please,” continued the voice pleadingly, “the article you found on the shore of the lake yesterday—it is mine. Pray return it to me.”“Oh!” said Bob, “why,thatwas a lady’s——”“I know it,” rejoined the voice quickly. “Oh dear. It is mine. I am a lady.”“Pray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.”[293]“It is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,” replied the voice.“Indeed!” ejaculated Bob, “that is a pity. However, I will return to you what I found upon one condition.”“What condition?”“Tell me who you are.”“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,”[294]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from herthraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,—[295]“Hello! Who are you?”The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”“‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’”“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”“Certainly,” replied our hero; “come down and I’ll share with you.”The strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a very short time he devoured the lion’s share of the lunch, and he and our hero became very friendly.[296]“What kind of bird are you?”“I’m a gum-hawk,” cried he, stretching his huge wings. “We are the giants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.”“You are a monster,” responded Bob in admiration. “I suppose you are quite strong enough to carry a man like me?”“I’d carry two such as you,” answered the gum-hawk quietly. “Only try me.”“Perhaps I may,” said Bob. “Do you know a place named the Granite Cliff?”“Rather; are you going there?”“Yes,” answered Bob, “if I may depend on you to convey me so far.”“Of course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get on my back,” and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with him into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly, but without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his elevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far ahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out above the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone in the sun like polished marble.“What mountain is that yonder?” he inquired of the gum-hawk.[297]“Mountain! That is the Granite Cliff.”“I have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,” rejoined the hunter after a pause. “The meat shall be yours if you set me down on the summit of the cliff.”“Don’t go there,” answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.“Why?”“Because it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.”“I have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?”“Certainly, if you are determined,” and the friendly bird, finding that our hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left him.The summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it to be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in itself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house, and before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of dense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.The young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the noise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the clouds were rolling along.Bob stepped up to the door of the hut and[298]gave it a hard thump with his gun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it She had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she asked him how he came there.“A gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this mountain,” responded Bob readily.“Well, what do you want here?”“Entrance, my supper, and a night’s lodgings, dame.”“That you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by difficult work on the morrow.”“I am prepared,” said Bob.“Very well. Come in,” she cried, and immediately closed the door.

CHAPTER I.THE LOST DRESS.

His hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland, away north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead such a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is that he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the out-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.One day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded farther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was returning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an article of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead halt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment as if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the linen, and the more he examined it the more[292]puzzled he became at the discovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a blackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a solitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and thought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.Somewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice calling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark, but he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk, and at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”“Here I am,” he answered. “What do you want?”“Please give me back—my—my—dress,” replied the voice in hesitating tones.“Eh? what?” cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you say?Your dress?”“If you please,” continued the voice pleadingly, “the article you found on the shore of the lake yesterday—it is mine. Pray return it to me.”“Oh!” said Bob, “why,thatwas a lady’s——”“I know it,” rejoined the voice quickly. “Oh dear. It is mine. I am a lady.”“Pray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.”[293]“It is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,” replied the voice.“Indeed!” ejaculated Bob, “that is a pity. However, I will return to you what I found upon one condition.”“What condition?”“Tell me who you are.”“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,”[294]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from herthraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,—[295]“Hello! Who are you?”The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”“‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’”“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”“Certainly,” replied our hero; “come down and I’ll share with you.”The strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a very short time he devoured the lion’s share of the lunch, and he and our hero became very friendly.[296]“What kind of bird are you?”“I’m a gum-hawk,” cried he, stretching his huge wings. “We are the giants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.”“You are a monster,” responded Bob in admiration. “I suppose you are quite strong enough to carry a man like me?”“I’d carry two such as you,” answered the gum-hawk quietly. “Only try me.”“Perhaps I may,” said Bob. “Do you know a place named the Granite Cliff?”“Rather; are you going there?”“Yes,” answered Bob, “if I may depend on you to convey me so far.”“Of course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get on my back,” and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with him into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly, but without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his elevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far ahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out above the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone in the sun like polished marble.“What mountain is that yonder?” he inquired of the gum-hawk.[297]“Mountain! That is the Granite Cliff.”“I have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,” rejoined the hunter after a pause. “The meat shall be yours if you set me down on the summit of the cliff.”“Don’t go there,” answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.“Why?”“Because it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.”“I have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?”“Certainly, if you are determined,” and the friendly bird, finding that our hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left him.The summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it to be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in itself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house, and before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of dense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.The young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the noise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the clouds were rolling along.Bob stepped up to the door of the hut and[298]gave it a hard thump with his gun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it She had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she asked him how he came there.“A gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this mountain,” responded Bob readily.“Well, what do you want here?”“Entrance, my supper, and a night’s lodgings, dame.”“That you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by difficult work on the morrow.”“I am prepared,” said Bob.“Very well. Come in,” she cried, and immediately closed the door.

His hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland, away north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead such a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is that he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the out-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.

One day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded farther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was returning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an article of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead halt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment as if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the linen, and the more he examined it the more[292]puzzled he became at the discovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a blackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a solitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and thought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.

Somewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice calling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark, but he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk, and at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”

“Here I am,” he answered. “What do you want?”

“Please give me back—my—my—dress,” replied the voice in hesitating tones.

“Eh? what?” cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you say?Your dress?”

“If you please,” continued the voice pleadingly, “the article you found on the shore of the lake yesterday—it is mine. Pray return it to me.”

“Oh!” said Bob, “why,thatwas a lady’s——”

“I know it,” rejoined the voice quickly. “Oh dear. It is mine. I am a lady.”

“Pray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.”[293]

“It is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,” replied the voice.

“Indeed!” ejaculated Bob, “that is a pity. However, I will return to you what I found upon one condition.”

“What condition?”

“Tell me who you are.”

“Alas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions are far beyond the ‘Lubra Mountains,’ but I have fallen into the power of a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the Granite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied by an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without my—my—dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I’m afraid the cruel witch will kill me if I’m detained here much longer.”

The low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied, “Rest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell me if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.”

“Can you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a polished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!”

“Stop! Where there’s a will there’s a way,”[294]said Bob. “With your permission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite Cliff. Where is it?”

“The path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,” answered the voice. “Yet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who will devour you. More I dare not tell you.” So saying, the voice died away in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice, instead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful cliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue the lady from herthraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded his gun, slung his pouch—containing powder and ball—over his shoulder, put some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed the country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without meeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the shade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many minutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some attention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad wings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun for a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a hoarse tone,—[295]

“Hello! Who are you?”

The hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply, “I’m a traveller.”

“Oh, and what are you eating?” said the bird.

“Kangaroo,” answered Bob, smiling.

“I’m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?”

“‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’”“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”

“ ‘WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?’ ”

“Certainly,” replied our hero; “come down and I’ll share with you.”

The strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a very short time he devoured the lion’s share of the lunch, and he and our hero became very friendly.[296]

“What kind of bird are you?”

“I’m a gum-hawk,” cried he, stretching his huge wings. “We are the giants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.”

“You are a monster,” responded Bob in admiration. “I suppose you are quite strong enough to carry a man like me?”

“I’d carry two such as you,” answered the gum-hawk quietly. “Only try me.”

“Perhaps I may,” said Bob. “Do you know a place named the Granite Cliff?”

“Rather; are you going there?”

“Yes,” answered Bob, “if I may depend on you to convey me so far.”

“Of course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get on my back,” and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with him into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly, but without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his elevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far ahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out above the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone in the sun like polished marble.

“What mountain is that yonder?” he inquired of the gum-hawk.[297]

“Mountain! That is the Granite Cliff.”

“I have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,” rejoined the hunter after a pause. “The meat shall be yours if you set me down on the summit of the cliff.”

“Don’t go there,” answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.

“Why?”

“Because it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.”

“I have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?”

“Certainly, if you are determined,” and the friendly bird, finding that our hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left him.

The summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it to be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in itself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house, and before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of dense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.

The young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the noise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the clouds were rolling along.

Bob stepped up to the door of the hut and[298]gave it a hard thump with his gun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it She had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she asked him how he came there.

“A gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this mountain,” responded Bob readily.

“Well, what do you want here?”

“Entrance, my supper, and a night’s lodgings, dame.”

“That you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by difficult work on the morrow.”

“I am prepared,” said Bob.

“Very well. Come in,” she cried, and immediately closed the door.

[Contents]CHAPTER II.QUIZ.There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep[299]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.Poor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing what his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work,[300]but here he was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one; almost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out with a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was determined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain. When noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. “It’s quite hopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it would take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,” he cried, raising his voice. “Indeed, I don’t see the use of making a fuss about it; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch has hid that lady that came to my hut?” And with this new turn to his thoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with the pebbles at his feet.As he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some one cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but he could see no one.“Oh dear! you have struck me on the head!” exclaimed a voice.The hunter rose quickly to his feet “Who and what are you?” he cried.“Can’t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,” repeated the voice.[301]Our hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large frog swimming towards him.“Pray who are you, sir?” inquired Bob, filled with amazement.“I’ll tell you that presently,” responded the frog, as he crawled up the embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long arms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond of his food.“I was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your reproaches with respect to emptying this lake,” said the frog, at the same time bowing very politely to Bob. “May I ask if you seriously intend to attempt the task?”The young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.Froggy listened quietly, and then replied, “Be content. I will help you.”“How can a frog help any one?” cried Bob contemptuously.“Wait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing dress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present. Of course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you like it?”[302]“Are you a fairy?” inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.“I am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I’m Quiz.”“Ah! I’m sorry that stone hit you on the head.”“Never mind. It didn’t hurt me much,” answered Quiz. “Now allow me to help you with your task.”“Can you really help me?”“Certainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with me who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how difficult they may be.”As Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three little men, no bigger than one’s thumb. The first was slim and slender, with a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.“These creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,” continued the sprite, “but they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the smallest of them, can do.” Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to retire a few paces; which he did.“Now, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that water-hole,” cried Quiz.Ere the words had left the elfin’s mouth the[303]wee man advanced, and said, “Out, water—out, fishes,” and immediately the water rose in the air like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while the fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according to their size and species.“Well done, Resolute!” shouted Bob, in ecstasy.“Dame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,” resumed the sprite. “Yet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish them and to rescue the chief’s lovely daughter from her hands. To-morrow I shall see you again.”And with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath his skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he vanished from sight.When evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her staff.“Ah, sluggard!” she cried, “if you have not done the work I gave you I will have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.”Bob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the wide, empty water-hole.Dame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.“Who has done this task for you?” she shouted[304]in unbridled passion. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for my husband’s dinner.”“I sha’n’t tell you anything, dame,” answered Bob. “You gave me a job to do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper, please.”The old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several minutes, and then replied, “Very well, very well; doubtless you are a wonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which will tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”Bob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her breath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper, like a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.

CHAPTER II.QUIZ.

There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep[299]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.Poor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing what his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work,[300]but here he was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one; almost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out with a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was determined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain. When noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. “It’s quite hopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it would take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,” he cried, raising his voice. “Indeed, I don’t see the use of making a fuss about it; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch has hid that lady that came to my hut?” And with this new turn to his thoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with the pebbles at his feet.As he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some one cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but he could see no one.“Oh dear! you have struck me on the head!” exclaimed a voice.The hunter rose quickly to his feet “Who and what are you?” he cried.“Can’t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,” repeated the voice.[301]Our hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large frog swimming towards him.“Pray who are you, sir?” inquired Bob, filled with amazement.“I’ll tell you that presently,” responded the frog, as he crawled up the embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long arms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond of his food.“I was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your reproaches with respect to emptying this lake,” said the frog, at the same time bowing very politely to Bob. “May I ask if you seriously intend to attempt the task?”The young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.Froggy listened quietly, and then replied, “Be content. I will help you.”“How can a frog help any one?” cried Bob contemptuously.“Wait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing dress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present. Of course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you like it?”[302]“Are you a fairy?” inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.“I am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I’m Quiz.”“Ah! I’m sorry that stone hit you on the head.”“Never mind. It didn’t hurt me much,” answered Quiz. “Now allow me to help you with your task.”“Can you really help me?”“Certainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with me who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how difficult they may be.”As Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three little men, no bigger than one’s thumb. The first was slim and slender, with a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.“These creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,” continued the sprite, “but they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the smallest of them, can do.” Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to retire a few paces; which he did.“Now, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that water-hole,” cried Quiz.Ere the words had left the elfin’s mouth the[303]wee man advanced, and said, “Out, water—out, fishes,” and immediately the water rose in the air like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while the fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according to their size and species.“Well done, Resolute!” shouted Bob, in ecstasy.“Dame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,” resumed the sprite. “Yet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish them and to rescue the chief’s lovely daughter from her hands. To-morrow I shall see you again.”And with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath his skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he vanished from sight.When evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her staff.“Ah, sluggard!” she cried, “if you have not done the work I gave you I will have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.”Bob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the wide, empty water-hole.Dame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.“Who has done this task for you?” she shouted[304]in unbridled passion. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for my husband’s dinner.”“I sha’n’t tell you anything, dame,” answered Bob. “You gave me a job to do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper, please.”The old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several minutes, and then replied, “Very well, very well; doubtless you are a wonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which will tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”Bob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her breath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper, like a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.

There was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff. If Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our hero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper, and a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the morning. The sun had hardly begun to peep[299]over the top of the mountain, however, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. “Get up, you sluggard!” she cried. “You don’t remain here and eat idle bread; you must work—work!”

“All right, dame,” responded Bob cheerfully. “I’m not afraid of work in any shape.”

The witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth. “Oh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we’ll make you work—work!”

She hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old battered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. “Here, take this,” she cried. “Now go, and empty the water-hole out there.”

“What! with a thimble?” cried Bob.

“Yes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all the small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank. Do you hear?”

“Of course, good dame. Anything besides?” asked the hunter with bitter irony.

Mother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his toil.

Poor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing what his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work,[300]but here he was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one; almost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out with a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was determined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain. When noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. “It’s quite hopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it would take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,” he cried, raising his voice. “Indeed, I don’t see the use of making a fuss about it; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch has hid that lady that came to my hut?” And with this new turn to his thoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with the pebbles at his feet.

As he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some one cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but he could see no one.

“Oh dear! you have struck me on the head!” exclaimed a voice.

The hunter rose quickly to his feet “Who and what are you?” he cried.

“Can’t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,” repeated the voice.[301]

Our hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large frog swimming towards him.

“Pray who are you, sir?” inquired Bob, filled with amazement.

“I’ll tell you that presently,” responded the frog, as he crawled up the embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long arms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond of his food.

“I was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your reproaches with respect to emptying this lake,” said the frog, at the same time bowing very politely to Bob. “May I ask if you seriously intend to attempt the task?”

The young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.

Froggy listened quietly, and then replied, “Be content. I will help you.”

“How can a frog help any one?” cried Bob contemptuously.

“Wait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing dress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present. Of course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you like it?”[302]

“Are you a fairy?” inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.

“I am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I’m Quiz.”

“Ah! I’m sorry that stone hit you on the head.”

“Never mind. It didn’t hurt me much,” answered Quiz. “Now allow me to help you with your task.”

“Can you really help me?”

“Certainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with me who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how difficult they may be.”

As Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three little men, no bigger than one’s thumb. The first was slim and slender, with a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.

“These creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,” continued the sprite, “but they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the smallest of them, can do.” Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to retire a few paces; which he did.

“Now, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that water-hole,” cried Quiz.

Ere the words had left the elfin’s mouth the[303]wee man advanced, and said, “Out, water—out, fishes,” and immediately the water rose in the air like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while the fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according to their size and species.

“Well done, Resolute!” shouted Bob, in ecstasy.

“Dame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,” resumed the sprite. “Yet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish them and to rescue the chief’s lovely daughter from her hands. To-morrow I shall see you again.”

And with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath his skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he vanished from sight.

When evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her staff.

“Ah, sluggard!” she cried, “if you have not done the work I gave you I will have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.”

Bob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the wide, empty water-hole.

Dame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.

“Who has done this task for you?” she shouted[304]in unbridled passion. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for my husband’s dinner.”

“I sha’n’t tell you anything, dame,” answered Bob. “You gave me a job to do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper, please.”

The old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several minutes, and then replied, “Very well, very well; doubtless you are a wonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which will tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”

Bob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her breath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper, like a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.

[Contents]CHAPTER III.A SLEEPING BEAUTY.When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer,[305]which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”“What errand, dame?”“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”“The lady is here, then?”“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task;[306]but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared[307]to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”[308]“What will you give me if I aid you?”inquired the tiny lady.“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While[309]the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.Long before the evening our hero saw the task[310]completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.“What is that?” he cried.“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her[311]bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.[312]

CHAPTER III.A SLEEPING BEAUTY.

When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer,[305]which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”“What errand, dame?”“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”“The lady is here, then?”“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task;[306]but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared[307]to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”[308]“What will you give me if I aid you?”inquired the tiny lady.“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While[309]the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.Long before the evening our hero saw the task[310]completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.“What is that?” he cried.“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her[311]bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.[312]

When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer,[305]which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”

“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”

She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”

“What errand, dame?”

“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”

“The lady is here, then?”

“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.

Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task;[306]but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.

“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.

The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared[307]to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.

“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.

“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”

“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.

“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”[308]

“What will you give me if I aid you?”inquired the tiny lady.

“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.

“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.

The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.

After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.

The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.

“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.

“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”

“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While[309]the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”

“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.

“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”

At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.

Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.

Long before the evening our hero saw the task[310]completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.

It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.

The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.

“What is that?” he cried.

“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”

While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.

“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her[311]bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”

And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.[312]

[Contents]THE LAUGHING JACKASS.[Contents]CHAPTER I.LOST IN THE BUSH.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious morning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the branches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some gigantic magic lantern was at work.The mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a giant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin lying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland ring again with its mimic jeers.The boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. “It’s a fine thing to laugh when one’s in trouble,” he said, espying the long ugly beak of[313]the scoffer pointing down towards him. “I’ll bet if I only had my Shanghai I’d soon make you laugh t’other side of yourmouf.”“Ho-ho-ho!” chuckled the jackass in reply.“Oh, it’s no use troubling about a silly bird,”muttered the child sadly. “Hecan’t help me. Oh, I wish he could!” And the sobbing recommenced more intensely than before.Poor Berty Wake was lost in the bush—lost utterly. For two whole days the child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to that section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he had been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of civilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one or two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the poor wanderer’s grief by its unseemly laughter.Berty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the morning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great love for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his search, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began to track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray in the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide him.[314]Poor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and then cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight came again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide him home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third day, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than before.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass.“If I only had something to eat—just a piece of bread—wouldn’t it be nice!” said the lost one, sighing ruefully.“Or a mince-pie!” cried a voice from the tree-top.Berty Wake jumped to his feet. “Who’s that?” he cried.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass hoarsely.“Who spoke?” repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; “please say that again—mince-pie, wasn’t it?”“And jam tart,” added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than before.Poor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. “Ah! It’s some one come at last,” he cried.“Yes, Berty Wake, it’s me!” gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone, at the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over the[315]boy’s head. “Here am I, Jack the Rover—otherwise, Laughing Jack, as my pa calls me.”For fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much astonished to utter a word.“Was it—was it really you who talked just now?” he said, with a quaver of fear in his voice.“‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’”“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”“Why, of course it was,” said the jackass, whetting his beak in a reflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.“Oh!” cried Berty, “I know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn’t know you could talk. Where did you learn?”[316]“In a cage on the Murray River,” replied the bird, laughing loudly. “I belonged to a squatter named Wake—Stephen Wake. He took me out of a nest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.”“Good gracious! Why, you can’t be our Jack?” cried Berty joyfully.“That’s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” replied the bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. “Ever since my wings have grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me. Yesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my own account, and found you asleep under this tree.”“You are a very kind fellow, Jack,” said poor Berty with tears in his eyes and in his voice.“Not half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,” replied the bird gravely. “Don’t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with the bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits of sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well again? Ho-ho-ho!”“It is wonderful,” cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.“Not at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That is natural. The wonderful[317]part lies ingratitude, my dear. Gratitude moved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.”Little Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.“I suppose you are hungry?” said the bird.“Please don’t mention it,” responded the wee fellow, with wistful look. “You haven’t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?”“Haven’t I though!” answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. “Just be good enough to follow me over to yonder peak. I’ll show you.” Saying which, Jack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion towards the spot indicated, our little hero following.Halting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to scatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view three lovely pies.“Sit down, Berty, and eat,” said the jackass.“You’ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at the station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting for you.”“Oh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.”“That’s all right. There’s such a lot of people[318]out after you, but they won’t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of guiding you home again.”“Come here, Jack, and let me kiss you,” said the child. “Won’t you?”“Ha-ha-ha! The idea. You can’t kiss with your mouth full of pie. Besides, what will the trees say?”“The trees. Can they know?” cried the boy, with surprise.“Can’t they!” said Jack the Rover confidently.“The trees talk to me. Listen! Don’t you hear them—the rustling of the leaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.”“And can you understand what they say, Jack?”“Of course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now. Something that I want to know very much.”“Tell me what they say, Jack.”“They say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and finish your pies,” said the bird solemnly. “If you stir from beneath these trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you love, and die a dreadful death in the bush.”“Are you going to leave me, Jack?”[319]“Only for a short time,” said the bird assuringly. “Finish your repast, and wait patiently till I return. I won’t be long away.” Saying which the laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.[Contents]CHAPTER II.EMU ROYAL.Berty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic ridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing towers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed and festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.It seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes, watching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter weariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept.How long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his face and he awoke.Standing before him he saw a fine, strong emu—full-grown, with a soft crimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and round its beak glittering with precious stones.[320]The boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the huge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in comparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time to indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick branches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.“I can’t ride an emu. I shall fall off,” cried poor Berty in some alarm.“Why, I thought an Australian could ride anything,” echoed the jackass, with a loud peal of laughter. “Don’t be afraid, my little man: Emu Royal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.”Emu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake, over-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang upon its back.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn’t it funny?” laughed the jackass from the tree-top. “Now on we go. I’ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu Royal. Quick march!”No bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as Emu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat, the mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became accustomed to the long swinging[321]stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed to know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any aid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed smoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other purpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with his demoniacal laughter.They went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange steed seemed to say, “Berty Wake’s going home. The lost is found—Berty’s coming home.”Hills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them like a drifting cloud.Then, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall gum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as a carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave a sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on the broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what had happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.The boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in view, not even the laughing jackass.Then he laughedin childish glee and clapped his hands.[322]“Why, this is Fir Tree Hollow,” he said, half laughing, half crying. “Don’t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there’s the sheep track leading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of our fence. Why, I’m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!”A reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a neighbouring copse.“Gracious me! That’s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a hundred. Coo-ee!”And the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by the forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.“Where have you been hiding yourself?” cried Berty, fondling the pony. “Don’t you know I’ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?”Another neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little fellow’s shoulder.“Ah, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I’ve had some trouble to find you; but ‘better late than never’ as dad says. Now won’t they be pleased to see me? and shan’t I be glad to see them?”Vaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track towards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in[323]view of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting for the lost one.A loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little Berty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with emotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his passionate kisses.“Where did you get to, my son?”“Oh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.”Mother and father exchange glances.“The child has had a touch of the sun,” says the latter, stroking Berty’s curls.“Where did the jackass find you, boy?”“Under a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,” responds the child, extending his arms. “Then he brought a emu—such a big fellow, with a saddle and bridle, you know—and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree Hollow.”Stephen Wake shakes his head.“Put him to bed, wife,” he says quietly; “the poor child is not himself. A good night’s sleep will set him all right again.”And Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and went out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his perch.[324]“Hallo! Jack the Rover,” he said, saluting the bird.The laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at the boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw: “Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!”[325]

THE LAUGHING JACKASS.

[Contents]CHAPTER I.LOST IN THE BUSH.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious morning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the branches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some gigantic magic lantern was at work.The mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a giant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin lying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland ring again with its mimic jeers.The boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. “It’s a fine thing to laugh when one’s in trouble,” he said, espying the long ugly beak of[313]the scoffer pointing down towards him. “I’ll bet if I only had my Shanghai I’d soon make you laugh t’other side of yourmouf.”“Ho-ho-ho!” chuckled the jackass in reply.“Oh, it’s no use troubling about a silly bird,”muttered the child sadly. “Hecan’t help me. Oh, I wish he could!” And the sobbing recommenced more intensely than before.Poor Berty Wake was lost in the bush—lost utterly. For two whole days the child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to that section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he had been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of civilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one or two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the poor wanderer’s grief by its unseemly laughter.Berty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the morning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great love for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his search, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began to track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray in the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide him.[314]Poor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and then cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight came again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide him home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third day, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than before.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass.“If I only had something to eat—just a piece of bread—wouldn’t it be nice!” said the lost one, sighing ruefully.“Or a mince-pie!” cried a voice from the tree-top.Berty Wake jumped to his feet. “Who’s that?” he cried.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass hoarsely.“Who spoke?” repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; “please say that again—mince-pie, wasn’t it?”“And jam tart,” added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than before.Poor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. “Ah! It’s some one come at last,” he cried.“Yes, Berty Wake, it’s me!” gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone, at the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over the[315]boy’s head. “Here am I, Jack the Rover—otherwise, Laughing Jack, as my pa calls me.”For fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much astonished to utter a word.“Was it—was it really you who talked just now?” he said, with a quaver of fear in his voice.“‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’”“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”“Why, of course it was,” said the jackass, whetting his beak in a reflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.“Oh!” cried Berty, “I know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn’t know you could talk. Where did you learn?”[316]“In a cage on the Murray River,” replied the bird, laughing loudly. “I belonged to a squatter named Wake—Stephen Wake. He took me out of a nest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.”“Good gracious! Why, you can’t be our Jack?” cried Berty joyfully.“That’s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” replied the bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. “Ever since my wings have grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me. Yesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my own account, and found you asleep under this tree.”“You are a very kind fellow, Jack,” said poor Berty with tears in his eyes and in his voice.“Not half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,” replied the bird gravely. “Don’t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with the bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits of sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well again? Ho-ho-ho!”“It is wonderful,” cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.“Not at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That is natural. The wonderful[317]part lies ingratitude, my dear. Gratitude moved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.”Little Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.“I suppose you are hungry?” said the bird.“Please don’t mention it,” responded the wee fellow, with wistful look. “You haven’t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?”“Haven’t I though!” answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. “Just be good enough to follow me over to yonder peak. I’ll show you.” Saying which, Jack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion towards the spot indicated, our little hero following.Halting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to scatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view three lovely pies.“Sit down, Berty, and eat,” said the jackass.“You’ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at the station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting for you.”“Oh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.”“That’s all right. There’s such a lot of people[318]out after you, but they won’t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of guiding you home again.”“Come here, Jack, and let me kiss you,” said the child. “Won’t you?”“Ha-ha-ha! The idea. You can’t kiss with your mouth full of pie. Besides, what will the trees say?”“The trees. Can they know?” cried the boy, with surprise.“Can’t they!” said Jack the Rover confidently.“The trees talk to me. Listen! Don’t you hear them—the rustling of the leaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.”“And can you understand what they say, Jack?”“Of course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now. Something that I want to know very much.”“Tell me what they say, Jack.”“They say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and finish your pies,” said the bird solemnly. “If you stir from beneath these trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you love, and die a dreadful death in the bush.”“Are you going to leave me, Jack?”[319]“Only for a short time,” said the bird assuringly. “Finish your repast, and wait patiently till I return. I won’t be long away.” Saying which the laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.[Contents]CHAPTER II.EMU ROYAL.Berty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic ridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing towers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed and festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.It seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes, watching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter weariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept.How long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his face and he awoke.Standing before him he saw a fine, strong emu—full-grown, with a soft crimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and round its beak glittering with precious stones.[320]The boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the huge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in comparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time to indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick branches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.“I can’t ride an emu. I shall fall off,” cried poor Berty in some alarm.“Why, I thought an Australian could ride anything,” echoed the jackass, with a loud peal of laughter. “Don’t be afraid, my little man: Emu Royal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.”Emu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake, over-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang upon its back.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn’t it funny?” laughed the jackass from the tree-top. “Now on we go. I’ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu Royal. Quick march!”No bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as Emu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat, the mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became accustomed to the long swinging[321]stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed to know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any aid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed smoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other purpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with his demoniacal laughter.They went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange steed seemed to say, “Berty Wake’s going home. The lost is found—Berty’s coming home.”Hills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them like a drifting cloud.Then, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall gum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as a carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave a sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on the broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what had happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.The boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in view, not even the laughing jackass.Then he laughedin childish glee and clapped his hands.[322]“Why, this is Fir Tree Hollow,” he said, half laughing, half crying. “Don’t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there’s the sheep track leading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of our fence. Why, I’m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!”A reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a neighbouring copse.“Gracious me! That’s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a hundred. Coo-ee!”And the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by the forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.“Where have you been hiding yourself?” cried Berty, fondling the pony. “Don’t you know I’ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?”Another neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little fellow’s shoulder.“Ah, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I’ve had some trouble to find you; but ‘better late than never’ as dad says. Now won’t they be pleased to see me? and shan’t I be glad to see them?”Vaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track towards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in[323]view of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting for the lost one.A loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little Berty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with emotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his passionate kisses.“Where did you get to, my son?”“Oh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.”Mother and father exchange glances.“The child has had a touch of the sun,” says the latter, stroking Berty’s curls.“Where did the jackass find you, boy?”“Under a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,” responds the child, extending his arms. “Then he brought a emu—such a big fellow, with a saddle and bridle, you know—and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree Hollow.”Stephen Wake shakes his head.“Put him to bed, wife,” he says quietly; “the poor child is not himself. A good night’s sleep will set him all right again.”And Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and went out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his perch.[324]“Hallo! Jack the Rover,” he said, saluting the bird.The laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at the boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw: “Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!”[325]

[Contents]CHAPTER I.LOST IN THE BUSH.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious morning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the branches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some gigantic magic lantern was at work.The mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a giant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin lying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland ring again with its mimic jeers.The boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. “It’s a fine thing to laugh when one’s in trouble,” he said, espying the long ugly beak of[313]the scoffer pointing down towards him. “I’ll bet if I only had my Shanghai I’d soon make you laugh t’other side of yourmouf.”“Ho-ho-ho!” chuckled the jackass in reply.“Oh, it’s no use troubling about a silly bird,”muttered the child sadly. “Hecan’t help me. Oh, I wish he could!” And the sobbing recommenced more intensely than before.Poor Berty Wake was lost in the bush—lost utterly. For two whole days the child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to that section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he had been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of civilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one or two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the poor wanderer’s grief by its unseemly laughter.Berty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the morning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great love for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his search, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began to track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray in the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide him.[314]Poor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and then cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight came again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide him home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third day, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than before.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass.“If I only had something to eat—just a piece of bread—wouldn’t it be nice!” said the lost one, sighing ruefully.“Or a mince-pie!” cried a voice from the tree-top.Berty Wake jumped to his feet. “Who’s that?” he cried.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass hoarsely.“Who spoke?” repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; “please say that again—mince-pie, wasn’t it?”“And jam tart,” added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than before.Poor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. “Ah! It’s some one come at last,” he cried.“Yes, Berty Wake, it’s me!” gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone, at the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over the[315]boy’s head. “Here am I, Jack the Rover—otherwise, Laughing Jack, as my pa calls me.”For fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much astonished to utter a word.“Was it—was it really you who talked just now?” he said, with a quaver of fear in his voice.“‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’”“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”“Why, of course it was,” said the jackass, whetting his beak in a reflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.“Oh!” cried Berty, “I know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn’t know you could talk. Where did you learn?”[316]“In a cage on the Murray River,” replied the bird, laughing loudly. “I belonged to a squatter named Wake—Stephen Wake. He took me out of a nest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.”“Good gracious! Why, you can’t be our Jack?” cried Berty joyfully.“That’s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” replied the bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. “Ever since my wings have grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me. Yesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my own account, and found you asleep under this tree.”“You are a very kind fellow, Jack,” said poor Berty with tears in his eyes and in his voice.“Not half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,” replied the bird gravely. “Don’t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with the bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits of sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well again? Ho-ho-ho!”“It is wonderful,” cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.“Not at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That is natural. The wonderful[317]part lies ingratitude, my dear. Gratitude moved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.”Little Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.“I suppose you are hungry?” said the bird.“Please don’t mention it,” responded the wee fellow, with wistful look. “You haven’t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?”“Haven’t I though!” answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. “Just be good enough to follow me over to yonder peak. I’ll show you.” Saying which, Jack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion towards the spot indicated, our little hero following.Halting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to scatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view three lovely pies.“Sit down, Berty, and eat,” said the jackass.“You’ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at the station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting for you.”“Oh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.”“That’s all right. There’s such a lot of people[318]out after you, but they won’t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of guiding you home again.”“Come here, Jack, and let me kiss you,” said the child. “Won’t you?”“Ha-ha-ha! The idea. You can’t kiss with your mouth full of pie. Besides, what will the trees say?”“The trees. Can they know?” cried the boy, with surprise.“Can’t they!” said Jack the Rover confidently.“The trees talk to me. Listen! Don’t you hear them—the rustling of the leaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.”“And can you understand what they say, Jack?”“Of course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now. Something that I want to know very much.”“Tell me what they say, Jack.”“They say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and finish your pies,” said the bird solemnly. “If you stir from beneath these trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you love, and die a dreadful death in the bush.”“Are you going to leave me, Jack?”[319]“Only for a short time,” said the bird assuringly. “Finish your repast, and wait patiently till I return. I won’t be long away.” Saying which the laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.

CHAPTER I.LOST IN THE BUSH.

“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious morning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the branches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some gigantic magic lantern was at work.The mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a giant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin lying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland ring again with its mimic jeers.The boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. “It’s a fine thing to laugh when one’s in trouble,” he said, espying the long ugly beak of[313]the scoffer pointing down towards him. “I’ll bet if I only had my Shanghai I’d soon make you laugh t’other side of yourmouf.”“Ho-ho-ho!” chuckled the jackass in reply.“Oh, it’s no use troubling about a silly bird,”muttered the child sadly. “Hecan’t help me. Oh, I wish he could!” And the sobbing recommenced more intensely than before.Poor Berty Wake was lost in the bush—lost utterly. For two whole days the child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to that section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he had been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of civilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one or two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the poor wanderer’s grief by its unseemly laughter.Berty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the morning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great love for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his search, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began to track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray in the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide him.[314]Poor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and then cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight came again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide him home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third day, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than before.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass.“If I only had something to eat—just a piece of bread—wouldn’t it be nice!” said the lost one, sighing ruefully.“Or a mince-pie!” cried a voice from the tree-top.Berty Wake jumped to his feet. “Who’s that?” he cried.“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass hoarsely.“Who spoke?” repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; “please say that again—mince-pie, wasn’t it?”“And jam tart,” added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than before.Poor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. “Ah! It’s some one come at last,” he cried.“Yes, Berty Wake, it’s me!” gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone, at the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over the[315]boy’s head. “Here am I, Jack the Rover—otherwise, Laughing Jack, as my pa calls me.”For fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much astonished to utter a word.“Was it—was it really you who talked just now?” he said, with a quaver of fear in his voice.“‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’”“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”“Why, of course it was,” said the jackass, whetting his beak in a reflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.“Oh!” cried Berty, “I know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn’t know you could talk. Where did you learn?”[316]“In a cage on the Murray River,” replied the bird, laughing loudly. “I belonged to a squatter named Wake—Stephen Wake. He took me out of a nest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.”“Good gracious! Why, you can’t be our Jack?” cried Berty joyfully.“That’s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” replied the bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. “Ever since my wings have grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me. Yesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my own account, and found you asleep under this tree.”“You are a very kind fellow, Jack,” said poor Berty with tears in his eyes and in his voice.“Not half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,” replied the bird gravely. “Don’t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with the bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits of sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well again? Ho-ho-ho!”“It is wonderful,” cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.“Not at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That is natural. The wonderful[317]part lies ingratitude, my dear. Gratitude moved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.”Little Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.“I suppose you are hungry?” said the bird.“Please don’t mention it,” responded the wee fellow, with wistful look. “You haven’t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?”“Haven’t I though!” answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. “Just be good enough to follow me over to yonder peak. I’ll show you.” Saying which, Jack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion towards the spot indicated, our little hero following.Halting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to scatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view three lovely pies.“Sit down, Berty, and eat,” said the jackass.“You’ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at the station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting for you.”“Oh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.”“That’s all right. There’s such a lot of people[318]out after you, but they won’t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of guiding you home again.”“Come here, Jack, and let me kiss you,” said the child. “Won’t you?”“Ha-ha-ha! The idea. You can’t kiss with your mouth full of pie. Besides, what will the trees say?”“The trees. Can they know?” cried the boy, with surprise.“Can’t they!” said Jack the Rover confidently.“The trees talk to me. Listen! Don’t you hear them—the rustling of the leaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.”“And can you understand what they say, Jack?”“Of course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now. Something that I want to know very much.”“Tell me what they say, Jack.”“They say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and finish your pies,” said the bird solemnly. “If you stir from beneath these trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you love, and die a dreadful death in the bush.”“Are you going to leave me, Jack?”[319]“Only for a short time,” said the bird assuringly. “Finish your repast, and wait patiently till I return. I won’t be long away.” Saying which the laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.

“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious morning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the branches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some gigantic magic lantern was at work.

The mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a giant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin lying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.

“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland ring again with its mimic jeers.

The boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. “It’s a fine thing to laugh when one’s in trouble,” he said, espying the long ugly beak of[313]the scoffer pointing down towards him. “I’ll bet if I only had my Shanghai I’d soon make you laugh t’other side of yourmouf.”

“Ho-ho-ho!” chuckled the jackass in reply.

“Oh, it’s no use troubling about a silly bird,”muttered the child sadly. “Hecan’t help me. Oh, I wish he could!” And the sobbing recommenced more intensely than before.

Poor Berty Wake was lost in the bush—lost utterly. For two whole days the child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to that section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he had been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of civilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one or two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the poor wanderer’s grief by its unseemly laughter.

Berty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the morning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great love for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his search, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began to track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray in the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide him.[314]

Poor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and then cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight came again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide him home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third day, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than before.

“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass.

“If I only had something to eat—just a piece of bread—wouldn’t it be nice!” said the lost one, sighing ruefully.

“Or a mince-pie!” cried a voice from the tree-top.

Berty Wake jumped to his feet. “Who’s that?” he cried.

“Ho-ho-ho!” laughed the jackass hoarsely.

“Who spoke?” repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; “please say that again—mince-pie, wasn’t it?”

“And jam tart,” added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than before.

Poor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. “Ah! It’s some one come at last,” he cried.

“Yes, Berty Wake, it’s me!” gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone, at the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over the[315]boy’s head. “Here am I, Jack the Rover—otherwise, Laughing Jack, as my pa calls me.”

For fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much astonished to utter a word.

“Was it—was it really you who talked just now?” he said, with a quaver of fear in his voice.

“‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’”“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”

“ ‘YOU CAN’T BE OUR JACK?’ ”

“Why, of course it was,” said the jackass, whetting his beak in a reflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.

“Oh!” cried Berty, “I know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn’t know you could talk. Where did you learn?”[316]

“In a cage on the Murray River,” replied the bird, laughing loudly. “I belonged to a squatter named Wake—Stephen Wake. He took me out of a nest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.”

“Good gracious! Why, you can’t be our Jack?” cried Berty joyfully.

“That’s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!” replied the bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. “Ever since my wings have grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me. Yesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my own account, and found you asleep under this tree.”

“You are a very kind fellow, Jack,” said poor Berty with tears in his eyes and in his voice.

“Not half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,” replied the bird gravely. “Don’t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with the bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits of sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well again? Ho-ho-ho!”

“It is wonderful,” cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.

“Not at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That is natural. The wonderful[317]part lies ingratitude, my dear. Gratitude moved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.”

Little Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.

“I suppose you are hungry?” said the bird.

“Please don’t mention it,” responded the wee fellow, with wistful look. “You haven’t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?”

“Haven’t I though!” answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. “Just be good enough to follow me over to yonder peak. I’ll show you.” Saying which, Jack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion towards the spot indicated, our little hero following.

Halting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to scatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view three lovely pies.

“Sit down, Berty, and eat,” said the jackass.

“You’ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at the station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting for you.”

“Oh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.”

“That’s all right. There’s such a lot of people[318]out after you, but they won’t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of guiding you home again.”

“Come here, Jack, and let me kiss you,” said the child. “Won’t you?”

“Ha-ha-ha! The idea. You can’t kiss with your mouth full of pie. Besides, what will the trees say?”

“The trees. Can they know?” cried the boy, with surprise.

“Can’t they!” said Jack the Rover confidently.

“The trees talk to me. Listen! Don’t you hear them—the rustling of the leaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.”

“And can you understand what they say, Jack?”

“Of course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now. Something that I want to know very much.”

“Tell me what they say, Jack.”

“They say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and finish your pies,” said the bird solemnly. “If you stir from beneath these trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you love, and die a dreadful death in the bush.”

“Are you going to leave me, Jack?”[319]

“Only for a short time,” said the bird assuringly. “Finish your repast, and wait patiently till I return. I won’t be long away.” Saying which the laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.

[Contents]CHAPTER II.EMU ROYAL.Berty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic ridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing towers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed and festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.It seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes, watching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter weariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept.How long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his face and he awoke.Standing before him he saw a fine, strong emu—full-grown, with a soft crimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and round its beak glittering with precious stones.[320]The boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the huge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in comparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time to indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick branches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.“I can’t ride an emu. I shall fall off,” cried poor Berty in some alarm.“Why, I thought an Australian could ride anything,” echoed the jackass, with a loud peal of laughter. “Don’t be afraid, my little man: Emu Royal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.”Emu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake, over-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang upon its back.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn’t it funny?” laughed the jackass from the tree-top. “Now on we go. I’ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu Royal. Quick march!”No bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as Emu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat, the mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became accustomed to the long swinging[321]stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed to know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any aid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed smoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other purpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with his demoniacal laughter.They went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange steed seemed to say, “Berty Wake’s going home. The lost is found—Berty’s coming home.”Hills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them like a drifting cloud.Then, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall gum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as a carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave a sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on the broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what had happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.The boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in view, not even the laughing jackass.Then he laughedin childish glee and clapped his hands.[322]“Why, this is Fir Tree Hollow,” he said, half laughing, half crying. “Don’t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there’s the sheep track leading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of our fence. Why, I’m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!”A reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a neighbouring copse.“Gracious me! That’s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a hundred. Coo-ee!”And the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by the forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.“Where have you been hiding yourself?” cried Berty, fondling the pony. “Don’t you know I’ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?”Another neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little fellow’s shoulder.“Ah, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I’ve had some trouble to find you; but ‘better late than never’ as dad says. Now won’t they be pleased to see me? and shan’t I be glad to see them?”Vaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track towards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in[323]view of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting for the lost one.A loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little Berty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with emotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his passionate kisses.“Where did you get to, my son?”“Oh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.”Mother and father exchange glances.“The child has had a touch of the sun,” says the latter, stroking Berty’s curls.“Where did the jackass find you, boy?”“Under a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,” responds the child, extending his arms. “Then he brought a emu—such a big fellow, with a saddle and bridle, you know—and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree Hollow.”Stephen Wake shakes his head.“Put him to bed, wife,” he says quietly; “the poor child is not himself. A good night’s sleep will set him all right again.”And Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and went out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his perch.[324]“Hallo! Jack the Rover,” he said, saluting the bird.The laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at the boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw: “Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!”[325]

CHAPTER II.EMU ROYAL.

Berty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic ridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing towers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed and festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.It seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes, watching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter weariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept.How long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his face and he awoke.Standing before him he saw a fine, strong emu—full-grown, with a soft crimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and round its beak glittering with precious stones.[320]The boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the huge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in comparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time to indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick branches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.“I can’t ride an emu. I shall fall off,” cried poor Berty in some alarm.“Why, I thought an Australian could ride anything,” echoed the jackass, with a loud peal of laughter. “Don’t be afraid, my little man: Emu Royal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.”Emu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake, over-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang upon its back.“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn’t it funny?” laughed the jackass from the tree-top. “Now on we go. I’ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu Royal. Quick march!”No bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as Emu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat, the mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became accustomed to the long swinging[321]stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed to know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any aid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed smoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other purpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with his demoniacal laughter.They went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange steed seemed to say, “Berty Wake’s going home. The lost is found—Berty’s coming home.”Hills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them like a drifting cloud.Then, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall gum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as a carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave a sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on the broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what had happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.The boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in view, not even the laughing jackass.Then he laughedin childish glee and clapped his hands.[322]“Why, this is Fir Tree Hollow,” he said, half laughing, half crying. “Don’t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there’s the sheep track leading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of our fence. Why, I’m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!”A reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a neighbouring copse.“Gracious me! That’s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a hundred. Coo-ee!”And the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by the forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.“Where have you been hiding yourself?” cried Berty, fondling the pony. “Don’t you know I’ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?”Another neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little fellow’s shoulder.“Ah, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I’ve had some trouble to find you; but ‘better late than never’ as dad says. Now won’t they be pleased to see me? and shan’t I be glad to see them?”Vaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track towards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in[323]view of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting for the lost one.A loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little Berty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with emotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his passionate kisses.“Where did you get to, my son?”“Oh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.”Mother and father exchange glances.“The child has had a touch of the sun,” says the latter, stroking Berty’s curls.“Where did the jackass find you, boy?”“Under a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,” responds the child, extending his arms. “Then he brought a emu—such a big fellow, with a saddle and bridle, you know—and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree Hollow.”Stephen Wake shakes his head.“Put him to bed, wife,” he says quietly; “the poor child is not himself. A good night’s sleep will set him all right again.”And Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and went out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his perch.[324]“Hallo! Jack the Rover,” he said, saluting the bird.The laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at the boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw: “Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!”[325]

Berty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic ridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing towers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed and festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.

It seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes, watching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter weariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed, and he slept.

How long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his face and he awoke.

Standing before him he saw a fine, strong emu—full-grown, with a soft crimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and round its beak glittering with precious stones.[320]

The boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the huge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in comparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time to indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick branches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.

“I can’t ride an emu. I shall fall off,” cried poor Berty in some alarm.

“Why, I thought an Australian could ride anything,” echoed the jackass, with a loud peal of laughter. “Don’t be afraid, my little man: Emu Royal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.”

Emu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake, over-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang upon its back.

“Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn’t it funny?” laughed the jackass from the tree-top. “Now on we go. I’ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu Royal. Quick march!”

No bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as Emu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat, the mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became accustomed to the long swinging[321]stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed to know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any aid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed smoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other purpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with his demoniacal laughter.

They went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange steed seemed to say, “Berty Wake’s going home. The lost is found—Berty’s coming home.”

Hills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them like a drifting cloud.

Then, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall gum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as a carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave a sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on the broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what had happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.

The boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in view, not even the laughing jackass.Then he laughedin childish glee and clapped his hands.[322]

“Why, this is Fir Tree Hollow,” he said, half laughing, half crying. “Don’t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there’s the sheep track leading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of our fence. Why, I’m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!”

A reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a neighbouring copse.

“Gracious me! That’s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a hundred. Coo-ee!”

And the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by the forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.

“Where have you been hiding yourself?” cried Berty, fondling the pony. “Don’t you know I’ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?”

Another neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little fellow’s shoulder.

“Ah, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I’ve had some trouble to find you; but ‘better late than never’ as dad says. Now won’t they be pleased to see me? and shan’t I be glad to see them?”

Vaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track towards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in[323]view of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting for the lost one.

A loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little Berty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with emotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his passionate kisses.

“Where did you get to, my son?”

“Oh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.”

Mother and father exchange glances.

“The child has had a touch of the sun,” says the latter, stroking Berty’s curls.

“Where did the jackass find you, boy?”

“Under a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,” responds the child, extending his arms. “Then he brought a emu—such a big fellow, with a saddle and bridle, you know—and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree Hollow.”

Stephen Wake shakes his head.

“Put him to bed, wife,” he says quietly; “the poor child is not himself. A good night’s sleep will set him all right again.”

And Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and went out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his perch.[324]

“Hallo! Jack the Rover,” he said, saluting the bird.

The laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at the boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw: “Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!”[325]

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