Three Little Jumbucks
By Pat Dargin
Recommended for ages 5-8 years.
Once upon a time three little jumbucks lived with lots of other sheep in a large paddock. Now, those little jumbucks knew every bit of that paddock – it was boring. They wanted to see the big wide world. Their mother said it was dangerous.
But they said, “Baa-aa! Baa-aa! Baa-aa! We’ll make a little house and shut ourselves in so we’ll be safe at night.”
Those little jumbucks wriggled and jiggled through the fence and trotted away. There were so many things to see but, by midday, the sun was so hot the jumbucks lay down under some shady trees beside a billabong. Later in the afternoon they set off down the road again and came to a paddock full of bales of straw.
One little jumbuck said,” Baa-aa, it will be easy to make a house of straw so we’ll be safe at night.”
The other two said,” Baa-aa, Baa-aa. A house of straw is not very strong! You can stay but we’ll move further on.”
And they did- while the little jumbuck made his house of straw. He went inside just as the sun set.
That night a dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy trees. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah – hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around the house of straw.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
The dingo scritched and scratched and pushed the door open. He ate that jumbuck all up. He was so full he went back to his den to sleep.
Meanwhile, the two little jumbucks came upon a saw-mill at eh edge of some bush.
One little jumbuck said: “Baa-aa, it will be easy to make a house of sticks so we’ll be safe at night.”
The other one said: “Baa-aa, a house of sticks is not very strong! You can stay but I’ll go further on.”
And he did – while the little jumbuck made his house of sticks. He went inside just as the sun set.
That night the dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy trees. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah – hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around the house of sticks straw.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
The dingo scritched and scratched and pushed the door open. He ate that jumbuck all up. He was so full he went back to his den to sleep.
Meanwhile, the other little jumbuck came upon a little old house made of mud bricks. It was not far from the river and there was grass to eat.
“Baa-aa! This is a good place to live. The bricks are strong but I will have to fix up the walls a bit so I’ll be safe at night.”
The little jumbuck worked hard all day and went inside just as the sun set.
That night the dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy treed. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah-hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around and around the house of bricks.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
The dingo scritched and scratched, scrtitched and scratched, scritched and scratched but the door was strong and would not open. The dingo’s claws hurt. He’d get that jumbuck another time. Right now he was hungry and went off to hunt for something else – a chicken from the farm nearby.
The next morning the little jumbuck met the farmer who was very cross because the dingo had taken – not one, not two, but three chooks. All that was left were their feathers! But the farmer had an idea to trick that dingo. He went to the woolshed and found the tar boy’s bucket. He took it and a bag of feathers down to the old brick house and told the little jumbuck what to do.
That night the dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy trees. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah-Hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around and around the house of bricks.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
He raised his paw, sharp claws ready. But the door swung open and out came a stream of sticky, gooey tar. It splashed all over the dingo. It dripped from his ears and down to the end of his nose. It dripped down over his yellow-brown hair. Before the dingo could move, a shower of feathers came out through the doorway. They stuck all over the tarry dingo. What a sight!
The little jumbuck laughed, “baa-aa! Baa-aa! Baa-aa!”
The dingo backed away. He lifted his head to the moon, let out a long, mournful howl, curled his tail between his legs and loped off into the dark, shadowy trees, never to be seen again.
And the little jumbuck lived happily for the rest of his days.
From Swag of Yarns Spring 2004
Recommended for ages 5-8 years.
Once upon a time three little jumbucks lived with lots of other sheep in a large paddock. Now, those little jumbucks knew every bit of that paddock – it was boring. They wanted to see the big wide world. Their mother said it was dangerous.
But they said, “Baa-aa! Baa-aa! Baa-aa! We’ll make a little house and shut ourselves in so we’ll be safe at night.”
Those little jumbucks wriggled and jiggled through the fence and trotted away. There were so many things to see but, by midday, the sun was so hot the jumbucks lay down under some shady trees beside a billabong. Later in the afternoon they set off down the road again and came to a paddock full of bales of straw.
One little jumbuck said,” Baa-aa, it will be easy to make a house of straw so we’ll be safe at night.”
The other two said,” Baa-aa, Baa-aa. A house of straw is not very strong! You can stay but we’ll move further on.”
And they did- while the little jumbuck made his house of straw. He went inside just as the sun set.
That night a dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy trees. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah – hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around the house of straw.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
The dingo scritched and scratched and pushed the door open. He ate that jumbuck all up. He was so full he went back to his den to sleep.
Meanwhile, the two little jumbucks came upon a saw-mill at eh edge of some bush.
One little jumbuck said: “Baa-aa, it will be easy to make a house of sticks so we’ll be safe at night.”
The other one said: “Baa-aa, a house of sticks is not very strong! You can stay but I’ll go further on.”
And he did – while the little jumbuck made his house of sticks. He went inside just as the sun set.
That night the dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy trees. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah – hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around the house of sticks straw.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
The dingo scritched and scratched and pushed the door open. He ate that jumbuck all up. He was so full he went back to his den to sleep.
Meanwhile, the other little jumbuck came upon a little old house made of mud bricks. It was not far from the river and there was grass to eat.
“Baa-aa! This is a good place to live. The bricks are strong but I will have to fix up the walls a bit so I’ll be safe at night.”
The little jumbuck worked hard all day and went inside just as the sun set.
That night the dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy treed. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah-hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around and around the house of bricks.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
The dingo scritched and scratched, scrtitched and scratched, scritched and scratched but the door was strong and would not open. The dingo’s claws hurt. He’d get that jumbuck another time. Right now he was hungry and went off to hunt for something else – a chicken from the farm nearby.
The next morning the little jumbuck met the farmer who was very cross because the dingo had taken – not one, not two, but three chooks. All that was left were their feathers! But the farmer had an idea to trick that dingo. He went to the woolshed and found the tar boy’s bucket. He took it and a bag of feathers down to the old brick house and told the little jumbuck what to do.
That night the dingo came slinking from amongst the dark and shadowy trees. He stopped. He sniffed. He smiled a big, bad dingo smile that showed his fearsome teeth. Ah-Hah! Jumbuck! He prowled around and around the house of bricks.
“Jumbuck, Jumbuck, let me in!”
“No, no, NO! Big, bad dingo!” said the little jumbuck.
“Then I’ll scritch and I’ll scratch and push your door open!”
He raised his paw, sharp claws ready. But the door swung open and out came a stream of sticky, gooey tar. It splashed all over the dingo. It dripped from his ears and down to the end of his nose. It dripped down over his yellow-brown hair. Before the dingo could move, a shower of feathers came out through the doorway. They stuck all over the tarry dingo. What a sight!
The little jumbuck laughed, “baa-aa! Baa-aa! Baa-aa!”
The dingo backed away. He lifted his head to the moon, let out a long, mournful howl, curled his tail between his legs and loped off into the dark, shadowy trees, never to be seen again.
And the little jumbuck lived happily for the rest of his days.
From Swag of Yarns Spring 2004
posted by Sarah Johnstone | 3:48 PM
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