by Pat Clarke
‘Do you feel better now?’ asked Sheila.
‘I think so. Am I supposed to keep counting?’
‘No. That’s enough for now. But there’s something else you might like to try, and that’s whistling.’
Eggie’s eyes grew big. ‘Whistling?’
‘Yes,’ Sheila said with a nod, ‘I’m sure you know how to whistle. You just pucker up your beak and blow. There’s a song that goes, “If you whistle a happy tune, no-one will suspect you’re afraid.” It seems that by whistling, you can fool others into believing you are brave, when you’re really just pretending.’
‘And that’s supposed to work?’ Eggie looked doubtful.
‘So they say.’
‘But I can’t whistle.’
‘What about crowing then? All roosters can crow.’
‘I’ve never tried. I don’t know whether I can or not.’
Sheila smiled as she remembered the daily racket at MacDougall’s farm. ‘From what I’ve heard, it just comes naturally. Why, Rooster Rex was forever crowing!’
‘Was he pretending to be brave?’
‘No … he was crowing because that’s what roosters do. They always find something to crow about. One of their jobs is to wake everybody as soon as the sun comes up each morning, but Rex always found plenty of excuses to crow during the day as well. Whenever he was especially pleased about something, he’d puff out his chest, throw back his head and make the biggest din you’ve ever heard!’
‘So … if I pretend to be brave, and crow as loud as I can, then one day I might actually become brave?’
‘That’s the general idea.’
** ** **
‘Eggie really needs to go to MacDougall’s farm and be toughened up a bit by Rooster Rex,’ Sheila reported to Elvis later that day, as they sat in a nice warm patch of sun next to Ma Turner’s caravan.
‘I can’t see that happening, can you?’
‘No, probably not,’ Sheila sighed. ‘Still, I’d really like to do something to help him. Maybe I could just sort of take him under my wing for a while and see what happens.’
She was silent, thinking of her past life on the farm. ‘Some roosters can be really mean and vicious, you know. Why … one rooster we had at the farm was so nasty that Mrs Mac had to arm herself with a broom whenever she went to collect the eggs.’
‘Yeah,’ said Elvis. ‘I remember him. He was a cranky old bird!’
Sheila nodded. ‘Mrs Mac put up with it for a while, but the last straw came when he attacked one of her little grandchildren. That was the end of him … in every way. He ended up on the dinner table that very night! But Rooster Rex was a whole lot smarter,’ Sheila said. ‘When he found out what had happened to the previous rooster, he made sure he became one of Mrs Mac’s favourites. And even now that Rex is old and no spring chicken, she wouldn’t dream of seeing him end up on the chopping block.’
Sheila continued with her story. ‘So you see … I told Eggie that sometimes it’s not necessary to be brave on a farm. You’ve just got to be smart enough to get along with the farmer’s wife!’
Elvis threw his head back and laughed. ‘Do you really think Eggie could change?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps ... if he wants to badly enough.’
‘Well, all I can say is that he’s lucky to have such a good teacher, my dear. You’re no chicken when it comes to courage. Matter of fact, you’re the bravest bird I know!’
Chapter Fourteen
Rufus was skulking in the bushes, awaiting an opportunity to carry out his evil plans, when he saw the old lady. She was riding her tricycle and pedalling towards the highway. Probably going to town to buy provisions, he thought. If so, she was bound to be away all day. He decided to follow, just to make sure.
Ma Turner, accompanied by her faithful companion Bazza, waited at the main road. She looked frequently up and down the highway as if expecting someone. Sure enough, it was not long before a small truck appeared on the horizon and she stepped out to flag it down. The truck slowed down and pulled over. After a friendly greeting, the driver helped her lift the tricycle onto the back tray and they drove off towards town with Bazza sitting comfortably between them on the front seat.
The fox smirked and danced a little jig. He could hardly contain his glee! The old lady and the dingo were both out of the way.
His time had finally come! No-one could stop him now!
REVENGE! AT LAST!
Chapter Fifteen
Maggie had been keeping an eye on Rufus all along, but until now had not mentioned the fox’s presence to anyone. Rover the barking owl had called her an ‘old gossip’ and a ‘busybody’ and this had hurt her feelings so much that she’d kept the knowledge to herself.
But now she was feeling guilty. Her friends could be in danger!
As quickly as she could, the magpie flew back to the campsite to raise the alarm.
Sheila and Elvis were having an afternoon nap when Maggie woke them with the terrible news. She urged them to leave the camp immediately and hide in the forest.
Sheila knew that Elvis was not well enough to travel and her heart sank.
What could they do? Hide? Run away? The fox was bound to catch them, no matter what they did.
So much for the promise Rufus made about never returning to the Goonoo, thought Sheila angrily. What a scoundrel he was! But she would outwit him somehow, and this time she’d make sure he got the punishment he deserved! Thank goodness Zelma and Louise were in the forest with their Malleefowl relations. They should be safe there, especially with their friend, Clancy the goanna, to watch out for them.
All these thoughts raced through Sheila’s head.
She tried to remain calm but the triplets were making so much noise, it was impossible to think clearly. They were running round and round in circles, frantically flapping their wings, and screeching at the top of their lungs.
‘Red Alert! Red Alert!’ cried Meryl.
‘Danger! Danger!’ yelled Beryl.
‘Fox! Fox! Fox!’ screamed Cheryl.
It was all too much for Elvis. ‘For goodness’ sake,’ the eagle shouted. ‘Stop running around like chooks with their heads cut off. Either come up with something sensible, or be quiet!’
That brought immediate silence. The very idea of chooks with their heads cut off was horrifying to the triplets. They huddled close together, heads safely tucked under their wings, shaking and shivering with fright.
Of course, they didn’t remain silent for long. They never did.
‘We’ve got a stash of old eggs hidden close by,’ said Meryl, poking her head out from under her wing. ‘They’d make good ammunition.’
Beryl agreed. ‘The stink of rotten eggs is absolutely foul. We’ve been saving them for ages. The smell would knock out that stupid old fox!’
‘Once he was knocked out, we could roll him down to the dam and push him in!’ shouted Cheryl excitedly.
Elvis called for quiet again. ‘If I were in better shape, I could certainly bomb Rufus with eggs, rocks and all manner of things, but unfortunately that’s not the case. The best thing for you three is to leave right now and seek refuge with the Malleefowl.’
The three little chooks didn’t have to be told twice. After telling Maggie where the rotten eggs were stashed, they scooted off into the forest as fast as their tiny legs could carry them.
Sheila turned to Maggie, who seemed to be waiting for instructions. ‘See if you can find Rover the barking owl,’ she said. ‘Let him know what’s happening and ask him to look after Zelma and Louise ... if we don’t make it.’
Maggie gave a squawk of agreement and took off without delay. Time was of the essence and there were lives at stake!
Chapter Sixteen
Sheila looked at the injured creatures lying on the bench.
Apart from Elvis and herself, there were several small birds, an echidna, a frill-necked lizard, a possum and a defenceless joey. Sheila wished she had some way of moving them to safety, but that w
as impossible.
As she and Elvis were the fox’s main targets, the best chance for the helpless creatures was if Elvis and she found somewhere to hide.
But where could they go? Sheila wrinkled her brow, deep in thought.
The old car where Eggie and Dulcie lived appeared to be deserted. Perhaps
that would do? She realised that she hadn’t seen either of them since Maggie broke the bad news.
‘They’re probably hiding out in the forest somewhere,’ she said to Elvis. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind if we use their home as a hide-out. Anyway, we don’t have time to waste. Let’s get going.’
With Sheila’s help, Elvis managed to get across to the old car and climb up onto the rusty bonnet. From there, the two of them half hopped, half fell, through the empty windshield, onto the front seat of the old wreck and collapsed from exhaustion.
‘Home, sweet home,’ smiled Sheila as she nestled down beside Elvis. ‘We made it!’
Chapter Seventeen
Rufus was furious! He had expected terrified cries, screams for help and general confusion on his arrival at the campsite, but all was deathly quiet. Apart from a few barely-alive creatures lying on a bench by the caravan, the whole place was deserted.
Where was everybody?
He fumed and fretted. It looked as if they’d been warned and if so, it was most likely by that interfering magpie he’d seen hanging around.
They’ll be hiding around here somewhere, he thought, and Sheila and Elvis won’t be too far away. I just have to flush them out, that’s all.
The crafty old fox jumped onto the bench where the injured animals lay — the joey, the possum and the others. He then announced in a loud voice, ‘I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse! But as there’s no horse in sight, I’ll start with this lot.’
He grabbed the baby roo by its tail and began playing with it — throwing it into the air, letting it fall to the ground, then picking it up again and shaking it hard. The cries from the little joey were so pitiful, Sheila could not bear it any longer.
She emerged from her hiding place and confronted her enemy. ‘Leave him alone, you big bully! Go pick on someone your own size!’
Rufus laughed. His trick had worked. He had found the one-eyed chook and knew the eagle wouldn’t be far away. He dropped the joey and turned on the defenceless hen.
Elvis looked on helplessly. He dragged himself out of the rusty car and lay on the grass, shouting, ‘Run, Sheila, run!’ hoping it would distract the fox and draw attention to himself.
Rufus was already drooling. He opened his jaw and bared his sharp teeth, ready to sink them into Sheila the One-Eyed Chook.
Just then, a piercing screech echoed through the forest. The noise was deafening! It sounded like a screaming woman!
Sheila looked up at the sky in amazement.
It was Rover the barking owl coming to the rescue! He was not alone, but was leading a flock of noisy cockatoos, all screeching and calling to each other as they wheeled and circled overhead.
Rufus was scared. But after waiting so long for revenge, he was determined to get his prey! He pounced on top of Sheila, grabbed hold of one wing and dragged her towards the caravan. If he could get underneath it, he would be protected from the swooping birds. And no matter what else happened, it would soon be the end of the meddlesome hen that had caused him so much grief. But, like so many times in the past, it just wasn’t his day!
Rufus could hardly believe his eyes. His jaw dropped open wide in astonishment, allowing Sheila to get away.
He was being attacked by the most unlikely of opponents. It was Eggie the cowardly rooster, crowing so loudly that Rufus felt his eardrums might burst.
‘Cockadoodle-doo! Cockadoodle-doo! Cockadoodle-do!’
And running by his side, egging him on, was that old chook Dulcie, flapping her wings wildly and yelling at the top of her voice,
‘EGGs-terminate! EGGs-terminate!’
What was she saying? Who was she calling?
Rufus couldn’t work it out. All the crowing, shrieking and screaming was giving him a dreadful headache and he was becoming more and more confused.
The barking owl let loose another one of his scary screams, giving the order to attack!
Rufus suddenly lost both his appetite and his desire for revenge.
Forgetting all about Sheila, he ran for his life.
The cockatoos went after him, zooming down, shrieking and screeching and bombarding him with rotten eggs that hurt when they struck him and stank horribly when they burst open. There was no let-up in the attacks. Egg after egg rained down upon his head and back, releasing a foul-smelling gas and leaving him gasping for air. The whimpering fox lay on the ground, convinced his end was near.
He was pleading with the cockatoos to stop when Rover suddenly called a halt. The owl held up his wing for quiet. A vehicle was coming down the track.
The cockatoos quickly retreated to the safety of the treetops and waited. Who could it be?
A sigh of relief went up as the vehicle turned out to be a police wagon. It pulled up at the campsite, and out got Ma Turner.
She looked around in dismay. What had happened to cause all this mess? She sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the awful smell. She saw the smashed eggs, Sheila and Elvis on the ground, the poor little joey all battered and bruised, and the rooster and his mother running around in circles, making the most dreadful racket.
Finally she spotted the fox as he tried to sneak off into the bushes. It was pretty obvious that he’d been the cause of all this destruction.
‘Fox!’ she shouted to the policeman, who was getting out of his vehicle. ‘Over there!’
The man drew his pistol and quickly fired off a shot.
A bullet whistled past Rufus’s head as he ran for his life down the track.
At the sound of the gunshot, the cockatoos took off in a flurry and within minutes they’d all disappeared.
All was now quiet at the campsite. Well, all except for Eggie, who wouldn’t stop crowing. Now that he’d started, he didn’t know how to stop!
Chapter Eighteen
A few weeks later, when everything had returned to normal, something completely unexpected happened.
Dulcie laid an egg!
And what a spectacular egg it was – an Extra Large, Grade AAA goldenbrown egg, perfect in shape and size.
Dulcie was just as surprised as everyone else. She could hardly believe it. Why, she hadn’t laid an egg since that dreadful incident with the goanna the day Eggie was born.
The time had finally come, she decided, to put all that behind them. Eggie had somehow overcome his cowardice and acted bravely by confronting Rufus the fox, and Dulcie herself had achieved another miracle by becoming a ‘layer’ once more.
There was great excitement in the fowl yard. Dulcie was treated like a queen by everyone, especially Ma Turner.
Since it was Easter, Ma decided to decorate Dulcie’s perfect egg and take it to her friend Mrs Mac as a special gift.
All the chooks gathered round as the old lady first boiled the egg and then, after it had cooled, took out her paint-set and began. When she’d finished painting, Ma Turner laid down her brush and stood back to admire the result. All that was needed was a final touch, so she added a light sprinkling of golden glitter.
Ma Turner carefully wrapped the egg and placed it in a small box she had saved for a special occasion. She then put it into the tricycle’s carry-all, together with some other special items that she was taking to MacDougall’s farm that day.
These special items were none other than Eggie the rooster and the chook triplets, Meryl, Beryl and Cheryl.
Ma Turner had recently had an interesting conversation with her friend Mrs Mac, where she’d complained about her noisy rooster.
‘Eggie used to be such a quiet, timid creature and he wasn’t a bit of trouble around the place,’ Ma Turner had said. ‘But now he just can’t keep quiet. He marches up and down and crows
all day and night. He’s driving me absolutely crazy.’
Mrs Mac, who knew a lot about chooks, had replied, ‘Well he is a rooster. That’s what they’re meant to do.’ After thinking it over for a while, she’d added, ‘He needs to have a proper job, like looking after the hens, keeping them from squabbling amongst themselves, stopping them from hiding their eggs, and making sure their chicks are well fed.’
She had then made a suggestion. ‘I’m looking for a replacement for Rooster Rex,’ she said. ‘He’s getting old and hasn’t been doing his job properly for some time. He spends most of his day hanging around with an old cockatoo called Wally and I think it’s about time for him to retire. So how about I take Eggie off your hands?’
And so it was agreed. Eggie would go to the farm and, under Rex’s tuition, learn how to manage a fowl yard. Mrs Mac was also prepared to take Meryl, Beryl and Cheryl after Ma Turner complained about them as well.
‘They run wild in the forest, hide their eggs and are generally a big nuisance. They need to be kept in a more confined space.’ Ma Turner laughed and added, ‘It will be good practice for Eggie, too. He’ll have a big job, teaching them to behave!’
In return for the birds, Mrs Mac would give Ma Turner some medical supplies and food for her injured animals.
And so it had been settled.
Ma Turner was now ready to set out for the farm. Eggie and the triplets were already loaded in the pull-along, together with the special Easter egg and a few other bits and pieces.
There was someone who wasn’t at all happy with this arrangement, however.
That someone was Dulcie.
Eggie wasn’t the only one who had long dreamed of living on a farm.
So had his mother.
Dulcie had a vague memory of coming to the Goonoo Forest just before Eggie was born, but could barely remember the reason she’d left MacDougall’s farm in the first place.
