"Good-bye, Kookooburra!" cried Dot, as they left the cave; and the bird gave her a nod of the head, followed by a wink, which was supposed to mean hearty good-will at parting. He would have spoken, only he had swallowed but part of the Snake, and the rest hung out of the side of his beak, like an old man's pipe; so he couldn't speak. It wouldn't have been polite to do so with his beak full.
Dot was so rested by her sleep all night that she did not ride in the Kangaroo's pouch; but they proceeded together, she walking, and her friend making as small hops as she could, so as not to get too far ahead. This was very difficult for the Kangaroo, because even the smallest hops carried her far in front. After a time they arranged that the friendly animal should hop a few yards, then wait for Dot to catch her up, and then go on again. This she did, nibbling bits of grass as she waited, or playing a little game of hide-and-seek behind the bushes.
Sometimes when she hid like this, Dot would be afraid that she had lost her Kangaroo, and would run here and there, hunting round trees, and clusters of ferns, until she felt quite certain she had lost the kind animal; when suddenly, clean over a big bush, the Kangaroo would bound into view, landing right in front of her. Then Dot would laugh, and rush forward, and throw her arms around her friend; and the Kangaroo, with a quiet smile, would rub her little head against Dot's curls, and they were both very happy. So, although it was a long and rough way to the little creek where the Platypus lived, it did not seem at all far.
The stream ran at the bottom of a deep gully, that had high rocky sides, with strangely shaped trees growing between the rocks. But, by the stream, Dot thought they must be in fairyland; it was so beautiful. In the dark hollows of the rocks were wonderful ferns; such delicate ones that the little girl was afraid to touch them. They were so tender and green that they could only grow far away from the sun, and as she peeped into the hollows and caves where they grew, it seemed as if she was being shown the secret store-house of Nature, where she kept all the most lovely plants, out of sight of the world. A soft carpet seemed to spring under Dot's feet, like a nice springy mattress, as she trotted along. She asked the Kangaroo why the earth was so soft, and was told that it was not earth, but the dead leaves of the tree-ferns above them, that had been falling for such a long, long time, that no kangaroo could remember the beginning.
Then Dot looked up, and saw that there was no sky to be seen; for they were passing under a forest of tree-ferns, and their lovely spreading fronds made a perfect green tent over their heads. The sunlight that came through was green, as if you were in a house made of green glass. All up the slender stems of these tall tree-ferns were the most beautiful little plants, and many stems were twined, from the earth to their feather-like fronds, with tender creeping ferns—the fronds of which were so fine and close, that it seemed as if the tree-fern were wrapped up in a lovely little fern coat. Even crumbling dead trees, and decaying tree-ferns, did not look dead, because some beautiful moss, or lichen, or little ferns had clung to them, and made them more beautiful than when alive.
Dot kept crying out with pleasure at all she saw; especially when little Parrakeets, with feathers as green as the ferns, and gorgeous red breasts, came in flocks, and welcomed her to their favourite haunt; and, as she had eaten the berries of understanding, and was the friend of the Kangaroo, they were not frightened, but perched on her shoulders and hands, and chatted their merry talk together. The Kangaroo did not share Dot's enthusiasm for the beauties of the gully. She said it was pretty, certainly, but a bad place for kangaroos, because there was no grass. For her part, she didn't think any sight in nature so lovely as a big plain, green with the little blades of new spring grass. The gully was very showy, but not to her mind so beautiful as the other.
Then they came to a stream that gurgled melodiously as it rippled over stones in its shallow course, or crept round big grey boulders that were wrapped in thick mosses, in which were mingled flowers of the pink and red wild fuchsia, or the creamy great blossoms of the rock lily. Dot ran down the stream with bare feet, laughing as she paddled in and out among the rocks and ferns, and the sun shone down on the gleaming foam of the water, and made golden lights in Dot's wild curls. The Kangaroo, too, was very merry, and bounded from rock to rock over the stream, showing what wonderful things she could do in that way; and sometimes they paused, side by side, and peeped down upon some still pool that showed their two reflections as in a mirror; and that seemed so funny to Dot, that her silvery laugh woke the silence in happy peals, until more green-and-red Parrakeets flew out of the bush to join in the fun.
When they had followed the stream some distance, the gully opened out into bush scrub. The little Parrakeets then said "Good-bye," and flew back to their favourite tree-ferns and bush growth; and the Kangaroo said, that as they were nearing the home of the Platypus, they must not play in the stream any more; to do so might warn the creature of their approach and frighten it. "We shall have to be very careful," she said, "so that the Platypus will neither hear nor smell you. We will therefore walk on the opposite shore, as the wind will then blow away from its home."
The stream no longer chattered over rocky beds, but slid between soft banks of earth, under tufts of tall rushes, grasses, and ferns, and soon it opened into a broad pool, which was smooth as glass. The clouds in the sky, the tall surrounding trees, and the graceful ferns and rushes of the banks, were all reflected in the water, so that it looked to Dot like a strange upside-down picture. This, then, was the home of that wonderful animal; and Dot felt quite frightened, because she thought she was going to see something terrible.
At the Kangaroo's bidding, she hid a little way from the edge of the pool, but she was able to see all that happened.
The Kangaroo evidently did not enjoy the prospect of conversing with the Platypus. She kept on fidgetting about, putting off calling to the Platypus by one excuse and another: she was decidedly ill at ease.
"Are you frightened of the Platypus?" asked Dot.
"Dear me, no!" replied the Kangaroo, "but I'd rather have a talk with any other bush creature. First of all, the sight of it makes me so uncomfortable, that I want to hop away the instant I set eyes upon it. Then, too, it's so difficult to be polite to the Platypus, because one never knows how to behave towards it. If you treat it as an animal, you offend its bird nature, and if you treat it as a bird, the animal in it is mighty indignant. One never knows where one is with a creature that is two creatures," said the Kangaroo.
Dot was so sorry for the perplexity of her friend, that she suggested that they should not consult the Platypus. But the Kangaroo said it must be done, because no one in the bush was so learned. Being such a strange creature, and living in such seclusion, and being so difficult to approach, was a proof that it was the right adviser to seek. So, with a half desperate air, the Kangaroo left the little girl, and went down to the water's edge.
Pausing a moment, she made a strange little noise that was something between a grunt and a hiss: and she repeated this many times. At last Dot saw what looked like a bit of black stick, just above the surface of the pool, coming towards their side, and, as it moved forward, leaving two little silvery ripples that widened out behind it on the smooth waters. Presently the black stick, which was the bill of the Platypus, reached the bank, and the strangest little creature climbed into view. Dot had expected to see something big and hideous; but here was quite a small object after all! It seemed quite ridiculous that the great Kangaroo should be evidently discomposed by the sight.
Dot could not hear what the Kangaroo said, but she saw the Platypus hurriedly prepare to regain the water. It began to stumble clumsily down the bank. The Kangaroo then raised her voice in pleading accents.
"But," she said, "it's such a little Human! I have treated it like my baby kangaroo, and have carried it in my pouch."
This information seemed to arrest the movements of the Platypus; it had reached the water's edge, but it paused, and turned.
"I tell you," it said in a high-pitched and irritable voice, "that all Humans are alike! They all come here to interview me for the same purpose, and I'm resolved it shall not happen again; I have been insulted enough by their ignorance."
"I assure you," urged the Kangaroo, "that she will not annoy you in that way. She wouldn't think of doing such a thing to any animal."
As the Kangaroo called the Platypus an animal, Dot saw at once that it was offended, and in a great huff it turned towards the pool again. "I beg your pardon," said the Kangaroo nervously. "I didn't mean an altogether animal, or even a bird, but any a—a—a—." She seemed puzzled how to speak of the Platypus, when the strange creature, seeing the well-meaning embarrassment of the Kangaroo, said affably, "any mammal or Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus."
"Exactly," said the Kangaroo, brightening up, although she hadn't the least idea what a mammal was.
"Well, bring the little Human here," said the Platypus in a more friendly tone, "and if I feel quite sure on that point I will permit an interview."
Two bounds brought the Kangaroo to where Dot was hidden. She seemed anxious that the child should make a good impression on the Platypus, and tried with the long claws on her little black hands to comb through Dot's long gleaming curls; but they were so tangled that the child called out at this awkward method of hairdressing, and the Kangaroo stopped. She then licked a black smudge off Dot's forehead, which was all she could do to tidy her. Then she started back a hop, and eyed the child with her head on one side. She was not quite satisfied. "Ah!" she said, "if only you were a baby kangaroo I could make you look so nice! but I can't do anything to your sham coat, which gets worse every day, and your fur is all wrong, for one can't get one's claws through it. You Humans are no good in the bush!"
"Never mind, dear Kangaroo," said the little girl; "when I get home mother will put me on a new frock, and will get the tangles out of my hair. Let us go to the Platypus now."
The Kangaroo felt sad as Dot spoke of returning home, for she had become really fond of the little Human. She began to feel that she would be lonely when they parted. However, she did not speak of what was in her mind, but bounded back to the Platypus to wait for Dot.
When the little girl reached the pool, she was still more surprised, on a nearer view of the Platypus, that the Kangaroo should think so much of it. At her feet she beheld a creature like a shapeless bit of wet matted fur. She thought it looked like an empty fur bag that had been fished out of the water. Projecting from the head, that seemed much nearer to the ground than the back, was a broad duck's bill, of a dirty grey colour; and peeping out underneath were two fore feet that were like a duck's also. Altogether it was such a funny object that she was inclined to laugh, only the Kangaroo looked so serious, that she tried to look serious too, as if there was nothing strange in the appearance of the Platypus.
"I am the Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus!" said the Platypus pompously.
"I am Dot," said the little girl.
"Now we know one another's names," said the Platypus, with satisfaction. "If the Kangaroo had introduced us, it would have stumbled over my name, and mumbled yours, and we should have been none the wiser. Now tell me, little Human, are you going to write a book about me? because if you are, I'm off. I can't stand any more books being written about me; I've been annoyed enough that way."
"I couldn't write a book," said Dot, with surprise; inwardly wondering what anyone could find to make a book of, out of such a small, ugly creature.
"You're quite sure?" asked the Platypus, doubtfully, and evidently more than half inclined to dive into the pool.
"Quite," said Dot.
"Then I'll try to believe you," said the Platypus, clumsily waddling towards some grass, amongst which it settled itself comfortably. "But it's very difficult to believe you Humans, for you tell such dreadful fibs," it continued, as it squirted some dirty water out of the bag that surrounded its bill, and swallowed some water beetles, small snails and mud that it had stored there. "See, for instance, the way you have all quarrelled and lied about me! One great Human, the biggest fool of all, said I wasn't a live creature at all, but a joke another Human had played upon him. Then they squabbled together—one saying I was a Beaver; another that I was a Duck; another, that I was a Mole, or a Rat. Then they argued whether I was a bird, or an animal, or if we laid eggs, or not; and everyone wrote a book, full of lies, all out of his head.
"That's the way Humans amuse themselves. They write books about things they don't understand, and each new book says all the others are all wrong. It's a silly game, and very insulting to the creatures they write about. Humans at the other end of the world, who never took the trouble to come here to see me, wrote books about me. Those who did come were more impudent than those who stayed away. Their idea of learning all about a creature was to dig up its home, and frighten it out of its wits, and kill it; and after a few moons of that sort of foolery they claimed to know all about us. Us! whose ancestors knew the world millions of years before the ignorant Humans came on the earth at all." The Platypus spluttered out more dirty water, in its indignation.
The Kangaroo became very timid, as it saw the rising anger of the Platypus, and it whispered to Dot to say something to calm the little creature.
"A million years is a very long time," said Dot; unable at the moment to think of anything better to say. But this remark angered the Platypus more, for it seemed to suspect Dot of doubting what it said.
It clambered up into a more erect position, and its little brown eyes became quite fiery.
"I didn't say a million; I said millions! I can prove by a bone in my body that my ancestors were the Amphitherium, the Amphilestes, the Phascolotherium, and the Stereognathus!" almost shrieked the little creature.
Dot didn't understand what all these words meant, and looked at the Kangaroo for an explanation; but she saw that the Kangaroo didn't understand either, only she was trying to hide her ignorance by a calm appearance, while she nibbled the end of a long grass she held in her fore paw. But Dot noticed, by the slight trembling of the little black paw, that the Kangaroo was very nervous. She thought she would try and say something to please Platypus; so she asked, very kindly, if the bone ever hurt it. But this strange creature did not seem to notice the remark. Settling itself more comfortably amongst the grass, it muttered in calmer tones, "I trace my ancestry back to the Oolite Age. Where does man come in?"
"I don't know," said Dot.
"Of course you don't!" replied the Platypus, contemptuously, "Humans are so ignorant! That is because they are so new. When they have existed a few more million years, they will be more like us of old families; they will respect quiet, exclusive living, like that of the Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus, and will not be so inquisitive, pushing, and dangerous as now. The age will come when they will understand, and will cease to write books, and there will be peace for everyone."
The Kangaroo now thought it a good opportunity to change the subject, and gently introduced the topic of Dot's lost way, saying how she had found the little girl, and had taken care of her ever since.
The Platypus did not seem interested, and yawned more than once whilst the Kangaroo spoke.
"The question is," concluded the Kangaroo, "who shall I ask to find it? Someone must know where it is."
"Of course," said the Platypus, yawning again, without so much as putting its web foot in front of its bill, which Dot thought very rude, or else very ancient manners. "Little Human," it said, "tell me what kind of bush creatures come about your burrow."
"We live in a cottage," she said, but seeing that the Platypus did not like to be corrected, and that the Kangaroo looked quite shocked at her doing so, she hurriedly described the creatures she had seen there. She said there were Crickets, Grasshoppers, Mice, Lizards, Swallows, Opossums, Flying Foxes, Kookooburras, Magpies, and Shepherd's Companions——
"Stop!" interrupted the Platypus, with a wave of its web foot; "that is the right one."
"Who?" asked the Kangaroo and Dot anxiously, together.
"The bird you call Shepherd's Companion. Some of you call it Rickety Dick, or Willy Wagtail." Turning to the Kangaroo especially, it continued. "If you can bring yourself to speak to anything so obtrusive and gossiping, without any ancestry or manners whatever, you will be able to learn all you need from that bird. Humans and Wagtails fraternise together. They're both post-glacial."
"I knew you could advise me," said the Kangaroo, gratefully.
"Oh! Platypus, how clever you are!" cried Dot, clapping her hands.
Directly Dot had spoken she saw that she had offended the queer little creature before her. It raised itself with an air of offended dignity that was unmistakable.
"The name Platypus is insulting," it remarked, looking at the child severely, "it means broad-footed, a vulgar pseudonym which could only have emanated from the brutally coarse expressions of a Human. My name is Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus. Besides, even if my front feet can expand, they can also contract; see! as narrow and refined as a bird's claw. Observe, too, that my hind feet are narrow, and like a seal's fin, though it has been described as a mole's foot."
As the Platypus spoke, and thrust out its strangely different feet, the Kangaroo edged a little closer to Dot and whispered in her ear. "It's getting angry, and is beginning to use long words; do be careful what you say or it will be terrible!"
"I beg your pardon," said Dot; "I did not wish to hurt your feelings, Para—, Pa—ra—dox—us."
"Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus, if you please," insisted the little creature. "How would you like it if your name was Jones-Smith-Jones, and I called you one Jones, or one Smith, and did not say both the Jones and the Smiths? You have no idea how sensitive our race is. You Humans have no feelings at all compared with ours. Why! my fifth pair of nerves are larger than a man's! Humans get on my nerves dreadfully!" it ended in disgusted accents.
"She did not mean to hurt you," said the gentle Kangaroo, soothingly. "Is there anything we can do to make you feel comfortable again?"
"There is nothing you can do," sighed the Platypus, now mournful and depressed. "I must sing. Only music can quiet my nerves. I will sing a little threnody composed by myself, about the good old days of this world before the Flood." And as it spoke, the Platypus moved into an upright position amongst the tussock grass, and after a little cough opened its bill to sing.
The Kangaroo kept very close to Dot, and warned her to be very attentive to the song, and not to interrupt it on any account. Almost before the Kangaroo had ceased to whisper in her ear, Dot heard this strange song, sung to the most peculiar tune she had ever heard, and in the funniest of little squeaky voices.
The fairest Iguanodon reposed upon the shore;
Extended lay her beauteous form, a hundred feet and more.
The sun, with rays flammivomous, beat on the blue-black sand;
And sportive little Saurians disported on the strand;
But oft the Iguanodon reproved them in their glee,
And said, "Alas! this Saurian Age is not what it should be!"
Then, forth from that archaic sea, the Ichthyosaurus
Uprose upon his finny wings, with neocomian fuss,
"O Iguanodon!" he cried, as he approached the shore,
"Why art thou thus dysthynic, love? Come, rise with me, and soar,
Or leave these estuarian seas, and wander in the grove;
Behold! a bird-like reptile fish is dying for thy love!"
Then, through the dark coniferous grove they wandered side by side,
The tender Iguanodon and Ichthyosaurian bride;
And through the enubilious air, the carboniferous breeze,
Awoke, with their amphibious sighs, the silence in the trees.
"To think," they cried, botaurus-toned, "when ages intervene,
Our osseous fossil forms will be in some museum seen!"
Bemoaning thus, by dumous path, they crushed the cycad's growth,
And many a crash, and thunder, marked the progress of them both.
And when they reached the estuary, the excandescent sun
Was setting o'er the hefted sea; their saurian day was done.
Then raised they paraseline eyes unto the flaming moon,
And wept—the Neocomian Age was passing all too soon!
O Iguanodon! O Earth! O Ichthyosaurus!
O Melanocephalous saurians! Oh! oh! oh!
(Here the Platypus was sobbing)
Oh, Troglyodites obscure—oh! oh!
At this point of the song, the poor Platypus, whose voice had trembled with increasing emotion and sobbing in each verse, broke down, overcome by the extreme sensitiveness of its fifth pair of nerves and the sadness of its song, and wept in terrible grief.
The gentle Kangaroo was also deeply moved, seeing the Platypus in such sorrow, and Dot mastered her aversion to touching cold, damp fur, and stroked the little creature's head.
The Platypus seemed much soothed by their sympathy, but hurriedly bid them farewell. It said it must try and restore its shattered fifth pair of nerves by a few hydrophilus latipalpus beetles for lunch, and a sleep.
It wearily dragged itself down to the edge of the pool, and looked backwards to the Kangaroo and Dot, who called out "Good-bye" to it. Its eyes were dim with tears, for it was still thinking of the Iguanodon and Ichthyosaurus, and of the good old days before the Flood.
"It breaks my heart to think that they are all fossils," it exclaimed, mournfully shaking its head. "Fossils!" it repeated, as it plunged into the pool and swam away. "Fossils!" it cried once more, in far, faint accents; and a second later it dived out of sight.
For several moments after the Platypus had disappeared from view, the Kangaroo and Dot remained just as it had left them. Then Dot broke the silence.
"Dear Kangaroo," said she, "what was that song about?"
"I don't know," said the animal wistfully, "no one ever knows what the Platypus sings about."
"It was very sad," said Dot.
"Dreadfully sad!" sighed the Kangaroo; "but the Platypus is a most learned and interesting creature," she added hastily. "Its conversation and songs are most edifying; everyone in the bush admits it."
"Does anyone understand its conversation?" asked Dot. She was afraid she must be very stupid, for she hadn't understood anything except that Willy Wagtail could help them to find her way.
"That is the beauty of it all," said the Kangaroo. "The Platypus is so learned and so instructive, that no one tries to understand it; it is not expected that anyone should."
