An outcast in a great city. Half-clad, half-starved, kicked and cuffed, and sworn at, as if he were no better than a mongrel cur, wretched Jack Cochrane felt that he was a useless unit in the world.
Jack was a foundling, God help him! First one and then another had taken him in hand, to rear him in the way he should go and make a decent member of society of him; but the charitable intentions of his godfathers and godmothers had evidently failed, for here he stood on this cold winter’s night, a full-grown youth, utterly unlettered, shivering in the keen wind, like a puppy in a wet sack.
To most of the young ragamuffins of his class he was known by the nickname of “Cocky,” and while he stood beneath a lamp-post, thinking how nice and comfortable it would be to tumble into a warm bed, half a dozen city waifs like himself came roystering by.
“Hello, Cocky! Where’r you going to doss to-night? Biler, or gas-pipe? Don’t you go on the wharf—there’s two coppers waitin’ there. Wouldn’t a saveloy hot or a tater go down slick, eh? So-long! Cocky, old man!” and the squad of shoeless young vagabonds went laughing on their way.
“I must try and get in and have a snooze somewhere,” muttered the lad, blowing on his finger-tips to warm them. “There’s the railway—I wonder if I could find a truck with a tarpaulin on it? I will try.”
The idea is acted on at once. Cocky soon finds a line of trucks covered well from the weather, into one of which he quietly creeps, and finding it snug and warm is soon fast asleep.
When he awakes it is daylight, and the sun is shining; peeping out from his cover, Cocky discovers he is far away from the city. He has been an unbooked passenger by a goods train which has travelled all night and carried him while he slept into the heart of the country.
Luckily, the train happens to be stationary at a lonely bush siding, and Cocky makes his way out of the truck and away into the scrub without being discovered. Hurrying away from the direction of the railway siding, Cocky finds himself near sundown on a narrow pathway leading over a range of high hills into a deep valley without trees, and where stands a solitary hut. An old man, much bent in form, and whose hair and beard looked as if they had not been shorn since he was born, stood at the door and gazed at our hero very curiously.
“Please could you give me a morsel to eat?” said poor Cocky, halting, faint and tired.
“Hum! You had better go farther if you fare worse,” answered the old man.
“I can’t go any farther,” said the boy. “I’m done up completely. Pray let me stay here to-night,” he pleaded.
“Hum! Rum-fuddle-em-fee! Very well. What can you do?” questioned the old fellow, his eyes glinting and glowering upon poor Cocky in a most remarkable manner, like a cat’s eyes seen in the dark.
“Do?” repeated the lad boldly. “Oh, I’ll do anything if you will give me some food and find me somewhere to sleep.”
“Bunkum Geezer,” muttered the toothless old fellow in reply. “You shall have all you want, but you must do my bidding; otherwise you shall not leave this valley alive. Do you hear?”
Cocky was desperate with all a lad’s gnawing hunger, so he answered, “All right. Trot out the tucker.”
Close by the hut stood a magnificent fir-tree, whose branches formed a canopy impervious to dew or rain. Beneath it stood a table already spread with dainty food. With a wave of his hand the old man pointed this out to Cocky, and said,—
“Go, eat. Your couch will be beneath the tree also. When you have eaten, sleep well, for to-morrow you will have to work—to work hard, boy.” Saying which, he went into the hut and closed the door.
The famishing lad did not need a second invitation to dine. He found a stool by the table and sat down and began his dinner. There were many joints and dishes which the waif had never seen before, but they were very nice. In the midst of his repast a fine-looking magpie came fluttering down from the tree, and perching on one end of the table, eyed our hero inquisitively.
“Hallo! Who are you?” said the boy.
“Never you mind, Jack Cochrane. Can I have something to eat?”
“Of course you can,” answered the lad, after his first start of surprise. “What’ll you have? Here’s baked snails, stewed kangaroo, fried wallaby, native companion on toast, with a lot of other things.”
But the magpie without more ado perched himself upon a huge rabbit pie and began to help himself to its contents.
“Here, I say, old fellow, how do you know my name?” said Cocky, after a long pause, in which he had been staring wonderingly at the strange bird.
“I know most things,” replied the magpie, whetting his beak on the table-cloth, preparatory to an attack on another dish. “I know that you have got into a very dangerous place, and that if you do not get counsel and help you will assuredly lose your life.”
“That’s pleasant. But who will kill me?” said Cocky, laughing.
“The old man. He’s a terrible magician, Jack. It would have been better for you not to have come here.”
“That’s just what the old rascal said himself. But why can’t I go when I like? He’s in the hut, fast asleep by this time.”
“No. Don’t attempt to run away, Jack,” said the magpie gravely. “Old Gruff would be certain to know and would trap you like a fox before you were out of the valley. You have been kind in sharing your dinner with me and I will help you, Jack. Kindness goes a long way with us. We never forget those who have once befriended us, Cocky Cochrane.”
“Who are you, then?” inquired the boy, with mouth agape in wonder.
“Your good fairy, Jack, from this moment henceforth,” responded the bird in a kindly tone. “Please don’t bother me with questions now, for I must be gone. Gruff is a wicked monster. He will set you to do what will seem impossible; but accept the task boldly and with cheerfulness. I will be near to help you. Now go to sleep. Good-night.”
Cocky slept soundly. In the early morning he was awakened by a loud roaring; opening his eyes, he saw standing over him a huge fellow of colossal proportions, who commanded him to arise in a voice like the rumbling noise of an express train.
“I am King Red Gum,” said the monster, at the same time twirling a sapling round and round in his hand for pastime. “In yonder paddock you will find a young colt who has never been touched by the hand of man. Catch him and bring him here before I have eaten my breakfast, or I will string thee up by the heels and roast thee like a rabbit. Dost hear?”
Cocky laughed and bounded away on his errand. He found the colt, but soon discovered that it was quite impossible to approach the vicious brute without being eaten or kicked to death. He had serious thoughts of running away, when the magpie alighted near him, to whom he communicated his trouble.
“Shout Stra fonatsa as loudly as you can,” said the bird.
“Stra fonatsa! Come here!” The wild horse pricked his ears and immediately came over to where our hero stood. He was as gentle as a lamb and suffered Cocky to lead him by the mane to where King Red Gum was waiting with his bludgeon.
“Ho! Ho! thou insignificant mortal,” he cried, “so thou hast brought Stra fonatsa. It is well. Now I must be off for my morning gallop. Gruff! Gruff! thou lazy skunk, where art thou?”
“Here am I, master,” answered the old man, appearing at the door of his hut.
“Give this ant his breakfast so that he may be ready to do my bidding when I return;” and King Red Gum mounted his steed and rode away. Once more the old man of the hut invited Cocky to a well-furnished table, then retired within his domicile and shut the door. In the midst of his breakfast our hero was joined by the magpie, whom he welcomed cordially. He placed the choicest tit-bits before it.
“I am glad you have a kind heart, Jack, and that you are grateful for my help,” said the bird, after the meal was over. “Learn, boy, I am not what I seem. None of us are, mortals or fairies.”
“Who are you, please?” said Cocky coaxingly.
“I am an elfin, Jack; just that. In this country every one of us has been made the guardian or custodian of some one who has been wronged. I am the guardian of a beautiful young lady who has been stolen from her home and shut up in a spacious mansion underground. I have been awaiting your coming a long time, Cocky Cochrane, for you and you only can release my darling Brown Eyes from the thraldom of King Red Gum and his henchman, Old Gruff.”
“Why did they shut up little Brown Eyes underground? What has she done?” said Cocky.
“That ugly wretch, King Red Gum, wanted Brown Eyes to marry him, and she would not. So he turned the poor dear into a blue wren and placed her in a cage below the earth,” answered the magpie in a trembling voice. “Now, Jack, we all need help from one another. If you’ll help me, I’ll stand by you.”
“Agreed,” cried the young fellow resolutely. “You have done me good service already; therefore whatever you order I am ready to obey.”
“Thank you, Jack. Good-bye for the present. I can hear King Red Gum returning from his gallop.”