A MAGIC WHISTLE

A MAGIC WHISTLE.

Here are low green hills and sharply outlined ridges strewn with great white blocks of quartz, gleaming in the morning sunlight. Adown the long eastern slope for miles there is a vista of park-like forest, where the wallaroo and kangaroo leap and gambol on the greensward; where green and gold parrots chatter and scream; where wild bees are humming to the morn, and where the eagle soars calm and peerless in the sapphire firmament.

One solitary figure dots this glorious landscape—a handsome, well-formed boy, with a swag upon his back, tramping slowly along the narrow track like unto one who would fain rest and eat. There is not the sign of any habitation in view; nothing but the matchless sunshine and the hills and valleys gleaming beneath in one great halo of golden glory.

Towards evening our traveller, emerging upon a lonely glade, threw off his swag and cast himself upon the soft sward and so fell asleep. When he awoke it was night, the dark blue canopy overhead was ablaze with stars. Looking round he was greatly astonished to observe the space before him aglow with a soft, subdued light, which was neither from the sun, the moon, nor the stars, but was produced by countless glow-worms and fire-flies combined, and who had formed broad festoons from tree to tree and so lit up the dell by enchantment.

Damper—for so was the wayfarer named, on account of his fondness for that Australian made cake—rubbed his eyes in great surprise, and also gave himself one or two severe punches to make certain that he was awake. The poor lad was without father or mother, and had tramped about the bush since he could walk, doing odd jobs for cockatoos (small farmers) and such-like; but a sight like this had never met his view before. His first impulse was to call out, but his voice refused its office; for at that moment he beheld a troop of black mites, no larger than his finger, march from out the gloom beyond into the radius of the light. They were all sheathed in mail armour and came onward with quick and regular step, four a-breast, their shields and spears flashing and sparkling like so many rare jewels in the sun. They ranged themselves in regular order, shoulder to shoulder, on one side of the dell.

Then there came a second squad, equally tiny in stature, but bravely attired in cloth of gold, with miniature swords clashing and banners waving; and these formed up on the sward, opposite the first troop.

And lo! as Damper gazed in consternation, there appeared a third group; white people these, not so tall as a lady’s thimble, without weapons, and robed in the most quaint fashions imaginable: some were clad in gossamer from head to heel; many had cloaks spun from wild bees’ wings; others were donned in all the gaudy colours of the dragon fly; and one and all of them appeared dancing mad.

Now here, now there; in and out; up and down; in whirling mazes, they moved like the sun flashes on some bright instrument, and too quick sometimes for the eye to follow their evolutions. It was altogether a fantastic scene, and one that the eye of mortal man is rarely permitted to look upon.

For some time poor Damper was beside himself with fear. Fortunately he remained very still and quiet, and was enabled to see everything that took place, without the elves being in the least degree aware of the mortal’s close proximity.

The antic gambols were so strange and grotesque that Damper had no definite idea how long they continued, or who piped the music for the occasion. One thing was clear to him, however, that the whole scene vanished as suddenly as it appeared, leaving only two of the fairy assembly, who without more ado came and perched themselves upon Damper’s swag, and began a conversation. This pair, it was evident, were the King and Queen of Elfland, who, after discussing several affairs of State, spoke of a magic whistle, hidden away among the roots of a certain tree in the dell.

Damper, although he understood and could hear every word uttered by their Majesties, paid little heed to what they said until the topic of the whistle began. Then he listened greedily. He soon learned that whoever had possession of this simple instrument held the wand of a magician over animal, bird, or man, and that if he pleased to pipe, man, bird, or animal within its sound must needs dance.

The hiding-place of this wonderful instrument was very minutely described by the King, so that when the royal pair had taken their departure, Damper determined to become possessed of it When day broke our hero arose and began his search. He had no difficulty in finding the tree, and he soon found the whistle. It was a stout reed, about six inches long, with a mouthpiece of pure gold.

Numbers of birds, from the wren to a stork, were about and around, singing their morning song. To test the efficacy of his prize, Damper placed the whistle to his mouth and began to play. The effect was indeed wonderful. Not a bird but suddenly ceased its song and began to hop and dance about in the most absurd and comical manner, that our hero had to cease playing in order to laugh.

“Oh! I think you will just be of some service to me,” he said, putting the whistle in his pocket. Then he shouldered his swag and continued his journey.

He had not proceeded far when there approached from the opposite direction a very fat woman in a covered van with her husband, who was a very little man. He was on foot, driving the horse. The woman seemed in a bad temper, and was abusing her companion soundly.

Damper stopped the cart and asked the dame for a little food. “Go on with you for an idle vagabond!” she cried, shaking her huge fist at the boy. “There are far too many of your sort about the country already. I only wish we were near a township so that I might have the pleasure of sending you to the lock-up, you loafing rascal.”

Such uncalled-for abuse roused Damper’s ire. Without uttering a word in reply he took out his whistle and began to blow. Instantly the fat dame leapt from the trap into the road and began whirling round and round with all her might, and anon throwing herself into such ridiculous postures that the little man, her husband, and even the horse began to laugh; but their laugh was of short duration, for they also were drawn into the dance, and the pony being securely harnessed upset the conveyance and scattered its contents all over the sward.

In the meantime the unfortunate woman, puffing and blowing like a grampus, cut some very extraordinary capers under the irresistible spell of the whistle. What seemed to be part of a wild Highland reel merged into the antics of a sort of Maori war-dance, and it was wonderful to note the agility displayed by so stout a person.

The piper himself felt too indignant to laugh, otherwise the good dame’s gambols would have been of brief duration. Not before all the breath had been jolted out of her anatomy did she plead for parley. Then in gasps she called out to him to “stop for mercy’s sake, and she would give him all the tucker in the cart.”

Our hero was by no means a bad-hearted fellow. When he saw the woman had been punished for her very rude behaviour he put the whistle aside, and assisted to raise the pony and restore the goods to the trap. Afterwards they dined together and parted on friendly terms.

Arriving late that night at a farmhouse on the billabong, Damper craved a night’s shelter, which was given him. In the morning he asked for work.

“What can you do?” said the farmer.

“Oh, anything almost. I can make you dance,” answered Damper.

“Yes. And, by George, you’ll find I’ll make you dance, my lad, if you talk to me like that!” retorted the farmer angrily; and so poor Damper was compelled to hump his swag farther afield.

The weather was fine, however, and the lad’s heart light; so he went singing along the bush track, until he was suddenly brought to a stand-still by a gruff command, “To bail up!” Right across the track he saw a big, bearded bushranger, splendidly mounted, who, seeing he was but a youth, put back his revolvers and dismounted.

Before the ruffian could approach him, however, Damper pulled out his whistle and began to play. Instantly the man and horse began their capers with one accord, and it was not until the robber had fallen exhausted on the track that our hero ceased whistling.

“I pray thee put by that dreadful thing,” said the panting outlaw, “and I will fill thy pouch with gold.”

“Not a bit of it,” said Damper resolutely; “my terms are that you hand over to me every item of your ill-gotten treasure, horse included, else you shall dance for it, my honey.”

The robber commencing to curse and swear, Damper placed the whistle to his mouth again.

“Stop! Stop! I yield to thy terms, boy,” cried the other imploringly.

“Very well. Hand over your revolver. Now that belt round your waist. Now take off your boots and depart in double-quick time.”

The bushranger did not need to be told twice. He fled away into the bush and was lost to sight in a moment.

Damper found the robber’s belt filled with gold. He mounted the horse and rode away. And no lad in the whole continent was happier than he was that day.