Mudpoo and the Magic Tree Stump (4 page)

“Well WIGGLEMY- WHISKERS,”
whispered Grumblegoo to herself,
“how bizarre!”

Grumblegoo decided she'd try an experiment to discover how the Magic Tree Stump really worked. 

She sat on the tree stump and declared in a loud Grumblegoo voice, “I wish for an omelette!”. Nothing happened. 

“I wish for a huge plate of lamingtons,” she demanded and still, nothing happened.

“I wish for a vegemite and cheese sandwich,” she said rather hopefully, but still, nothing happened. 

“I wish for a pair of silky pyjamas, with pink cotton socks,” she said in a silly voice, just in case it worked, but nothing happened. 

Grumblegoo was just about to give up for the day when Kev, the sulfurcrested cockatoo, came by and happened to land on the Magic Tree Stump. 

“I wish you could talk!” declared Grumblegoo, but again, nothing happened.

Grumblegoo looked at Kev miserably. 

Kev, the sulfur-crested cockatoo then squawked, “I wish I could talk,” repeating Grumblegoo's words, as most cockatoo's do. 

Suddenly there was a ‘SWOOSHING' sound and some shiny swirling dust and a stunned Kev croaked in a scratchy, cocky voice;
“G'day Grumblegoo!”

“You... you...can talk!” Grumblegoo leapt up into the air and danced an Irish jig. 

“Yippee . . . ” she cried, “what did you think about?” 

“Well bust-my-billy Grumblegoo, I just thought, ‘I wish I could talk' and . . . WHAM, here I am!” 

“I think I'm beginning to see,” replied Grumblegoo looking rather pleased.

“Great-gathering-goannas, can you explain to ME what is going on?” squawked Kev. 

“It's the Magic Tree Stump! It grants each creature only one opportunity to wish and you have to be quick. You're only allowed a few seconds to wish for all the things you want! I think that's how it works?” declared Grumblegoo.

Grumblegoo decided to test her theory further. She thought they might coax Clancy the koala down from her gum tree, by placing a huge branch of sweet juicy Eucalyptus leaves on the Magic Tree Stump. 

Ever so slowly, Clancy wobbled down to the Magic Tree Stump. Grumblegoo and Kev stood very still and watched. Sure enough, there was a ‘SWOOSHING' sound and Clancy was covered in a shiny, swirling dust.

Grumblegoo and Kev held their breath and waited to see what might happen. 

“What are you staring at?” snapped Clancy. 

Grumblegoo and Kev cheered, “It worked! Yahoo!”

 “Don't bust your boiler,” said Clancy, “I'm going back up to my tree and I'm never coming down.” 

“Why ever not?” asked Grumblegoo. 

“Because I wished I could talk and I wished for a tree that never ran out of gum leaves,” replied Clancy. 

“Well I'll be blowed,”
muttered Grumblegoo,
“it appears Clancy managed to think of everything she wanted!”

“STREUTH! Lucky old Clancy,” squawked Kev.

Clancy had returned high into her tree and happily munched away on her never-ending supply of gum leaves, like nothing magical at all had just happened. 

O
ne evening, Grumblegoo found Sally, the green tree snake, asleep on the Magic Tree Stump and like many of the other forest animals now, Sally was able to talk. 

“What did you wish for?” inquired Grumblegoo. 

“Oh, I just wished everyone would like me for who I am,” she replied. Grumblegoo understood Sally's wish really well (for reasons you can guess).

She invited Sally to sleep on the Magic Tree Stump to guard it against unfriendly strangers and to this, she happily agreed. Grumblegoo figured that by asking Sally to guard the Magic Tree Stump, she could do an important job, as well as make some new friends, all at the same time! 

Percy, the ringtail possum, stumbled across the Magic Tree Stump and soon he was getting his wish; a wonderful sleep, hanging by his tail. Grumblegoo asked him to hang around to help Sally and this made him feel very important. 

Foggerty returned from visiting the children at the Iluka school and was pleased to discover that Grumblegoo had made several new friends. 

He told, Kev, Sally, Percy and Grumblegoo (Clancy was too busy eating) about his adventures. Foggerty told them how he became the Iluka Primary School's science project. They measured and weighed him and watched him eat and jump. Best of all, he was able to watch the students use something called ‘the internet', so he learnt so much more about the world. 

“We live in a littoral rainforest,”
croaked Foggerty. 

“Littoral rainforest?” repeated Grumblegoo, taken aback by Foggerty's new found knowledge. 

“A littoral rainforest is a subtropical forest that grows in nutrient-rich, sandy soils near the sea,” beamed Foggerty, who indeed felt that he really was the smartest frog in the world. 

“Did you know,” continued Foggerty, “that rainforests cover only 0.3 percent of Australia and yet they contain about half of Australia's plant families and about one third of Australia's mammal and bird species?” 

“Great story,” said Grumblegoo who had never quite understood percentages and fractions, “but I've got to go fishing.” 

“I've got sleeping to catch up on,” murmured Percy. 

“Slithering to do,” added Sally. 

“BELCHING BUNYIPS!”
cried Kev,
“Is that the time? Got to fly!”

 “I'll tell you more about it tomorrow?” said Foggerty, looking hopeful and proud as his friends quickly disappeared into the forest. 

G
rumblegoo thought carefully as she sat fishing in the Clarence River. She felt they should have stayed and listened to Foggerty. After all, wasn't knowledge something to be proud of? She felt sure that everythingFoggerty learnt at school could be very important and might one day prove to be useful.

“Next time,” she murmured to herself, “I will ask everyone to listen and learn something from Foggerty.” 

Grumblegoo would soon be proven right. There was trouble brewing just around the corner and Foggerty's knowledge would prove to be very important indeed.

D
eep in the Southern Ocean near the Antarctic Peninsula, a happy pod of humpback whales were ‘spy hopping' and splashing with their enormous pectoral fins. It was almost time for their annual ten thousand kilometre migration to Hervey Bay, Australia, for the breeding season. 

Humpbacks were huge whales (about the size of a semi-trailer) and yet despite their size, they were able to leap right out of the water, sometimes just for fun. They played with their friends the minke whales as they twirled and splashed around under the majestic ice-flows. 

Not far from where the whales were playing, in the shadows of an enormous iceberg, a grey, musky-smelling, miserable pirate boat was anchored. The boat creaked and groaned, as rusty bolts and crusty barnacles vibrated to the gentle swell of the ocean. 

BONES, GROT, SNOT
and
PONG,
the smelly vessel's four horrible inhabitants, ignored the spectacular sight of humpbacks leaping out of the water. They were too engrossed in their important meeting. 

They sat in the musky galley of their rusty boat, studying a huge map of the Antarctic waters. Their galley was where they ate, washed, slept and had messy parties. It was also home to many fat rats and tiny bugs, living on the food scraps the pirates left behind on unwashed dinner plates.

“Why are we killing whales?” inquired Grot again, belching after gobbling down an enormous fish too fast, and taking a large gulp of foul-smelling wine.

“For scientific research . . . !” said Snot, pounding his horrible fist onto the table. 

“Science?” repeated Grot, wiping his forearm across his face to clean runaway bits of wine, food and snot that were stuck just above his top lip.

“Yeah, we kill whales to save them from themselves!” grunted Bones, who had been sharpening an enormous, scary-looking knife. 

“So killing whales . . . is a good thing?” asked Grot again, trying not to show he was still very confused. 

Grot was the biggest and strongest of the pirates and he could lift very heavy things, even though he was a bit clumsy. They couldn't run the pirate ship without him. 

“Whales are their own worst enemy,” mumbled Pong who spent most of his time listening and keeping his thoughts to himself. 

“I thought WE were their worst enemy,” inquired Grot, puzzled, taking another huge gulp of his horribly sour drink. 

“WE ARE!” roared the others, laughing and pushing each other about. 

“I thought we're not allowed to kill humpback whales?”
queried Grot, still confused. 

This surprised the others, as it was the cleverest thing anyone had said all day. 

“Minke whales . . . we are allowed to kill minke whales,” roared Snot pounding his horrible fist again, knocking over Bone's drink of smelly, stale beer. 

“Minke whales are like the blowflies of the ocean,” growled Pong, “we need to crush them.” 

“Yes, yes . . . ,” agreed Bones, “crush them, crush them, crush them!” he replied, getting rather worked up. 

“I thought we harpooned whales?” muttered Grot scratching his head.

“Yeah, that's what I said,” grumbled Bones. 

“NO, you said crush them!” repeated Grot, quite certain he had heard correctly. 

“Like THIS,” suddenly Bones crushed a poor cockroach that had been nibbling on crumbs that were scattered near the edge of the pirates' table, “KERRSPLATTT!” 

“MWUAHA, HA, HAAA !” roared the horrible crew with laughter, as the poor cockroach lay splattered all over the grimy dinner table. 

“What if a humpback whale gets in our way?” inquired Grot who, in between gulps of foul smelling wine, was really asking the smartest questions. 

“WHAM, bad luck for them,” growled Snot, who pounded the table with his fist, crushing another poor cockroach. Two more cockroaches scurried to safety, hiding under Grot's armpit.