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.