Blinky by this time was far up on a topmost branch, safely away from angry mothers.

“Come down at once,” commanded Mrs Grunty and Mrs Koala together.

But Blinky pretended he was deaf and took no notice of their angry calls.

“Blinky, come down this minute!” Mrs Koala demanded.

“I’ll go up and get him,” said Mrs Grunty in a determined voice. “No bear of that age will get the better of me.” And she stamped a hind leg on the tree to show that she really meant it.

Blinky began to feel things were getting a little uncomfortable, and he really didn’t want to go on eating so many leaves all at once, so he decided to face the enemy.

“Are you looking for some nice young leaves, Mrs Grunty?” he inquired in a polite voice.

“No!” snapped Mrs Grunty, “I’m looking for a bad young bear!”

“Snubby’s not up here,” Blinky replied in an innocent tone.

“Now, no cheek,” grunted Mrs Grunty, “you’re bad enough as it is; come down out of that branch!”

“Just wait a minute,” Blinky replied, “and I’ll bring you some beautiful juicy leaves.”

“Where are they?” Mrs Grunty asked excitedly, quite forgetting her anger.

“Up here,” said Blinky. “Would you like a few?”

“Yes, I would,” replied Mrs Grunty. “And bring some for your mother; she has a bad headache.”

Blinky gathered the very freshest tips he could find and, chatting gaily all the while (for he was a cunning young bear), he came down the tree and held them out to Mrs Grunty.

“You’re a dear little bear!” said Mrs Grunty as she nibbled the leaves. “I’d be proud to have a son like you.”

Naughty Blinky stood behind her back and screwed up his nose at her, and Snubby, who was watching from a branch close by, gave a loud, squealing grunt.

“Well, well, how kind of Blinky!” said Mrs Koala, as she munched the leaves with her friend. “He is a thoughtful son.”

But life seemed very monotonous to Blinky. He knew every branch, twig, and leaf of that tree off by heart, and Snubby never seemed to think of any new games, so he decided to start on another adventure. The more he thought of it, the braver he grew, until one evening, when the moon shone extra brightly, and the leaves looked silvery-green, he decided the time had come to make a start. His mother and Mrs Grunty and Snubby were sitting together away out on a distant branch, quite out of view, so stealthily and quickly Blinky slid down the tree and on to the ground. “Ha, ha, it’s good to be away again,” he said to himself as he looked around. How pretty everything looked in the moonlight, and the dew on the grass and leaves sparkled so brightly.

“I love mother and Snubby very much,” Blinky murmured; “but they don’t seem to think I’m grown up and want to see things. And what a funny bear Snubby is. I’m beginning to think he must be a girl, as he never wants to go adventuring.”

“Hi, there!” called a loud voice from somewhere in the bushes. “What do you think you’re doing down here?”

“Who are you?” panted Blinky with fright, for certainly he didn’t expect anything to happen so soon.

“Who am I? Come over here and see,” came the reply in a gruff voice.

“You won’t eat me, will you?” Blinky asked in a frightened voice.

“Eat a bear. Ha, ha! Well I’ve never tasted one, and I’m not going to start now. I’m not too fond of swallowing fur and eucalyptus in one mouthful.”

And just as he said those words Mr Wombat shuffled out of the bushes.

“Oh!” gasped Blinky, “what a big fellow you are! What’s your name?”

“To a stranger like you — I am Mr Wombat.”

“The cheeky young rabs call me ‘Womby’; but to a stranger like you I am Mr Wombat.”

“Where do you live?” Blinky inquired, still just a little nervous at seeing so large an animal standing right in front of him.

“That’s a secret,” replied Mr Wombat. “But if you know how to keep quiet about those things I’ll take you to see my home.”

“I won’t tell a soul, Mr Wombat,” Blinky whispered.

“Very good! Well, come this way,” said Mr Wombat. He led Blinky through the thick undergrowth, crashing the bracken down with his sturdy legs, and grunting loudly as he went. It was rather difficult for Blinky to keep pace with him, as he went at such a rate; but he paused now and then to give a glance over his shoulder and waited for his little friend to catch up with his steps.

The bush grew thicker, but presently Blinky noticed the ground had a “dug-up” look about it. Roots of bushes had been undermined, plants eaten down to the ground, and altogether everything looked very untidy.

Right ahead a very large tree grew up to the sky, and Blinky thought he had never seen such a big gum. The trunk was enormous and the roots spread out in all directions.

“This is my home,” said Mr Wombat proudly. “Don’t you think it fine?”

“Yes,” replied Blinky. “It’s a very grand place. But how do you climb that huge trunk?”

“Climb!” said Mr Wombat scornfully, “I’ve no need to do any stunts here. I live under the roots.”

“Oh!” gasped Blinky, “not in that big black hole?”

“Yes! That’s my home,” replied Mr Wombat. “And the rain can come down as hard as it likes and the wind blow and shake the tree as long as it likes; but I just lie here underneath, safer than all the bears up in the trees.

“Come in and have a look round. Everything’s lovely and dark; and there’s a very nice muddy smell inside.”

“I don’t think I’ll come in, Mr Wombat,” said Blinky in a quiet voice. “I’m in rather a hurry. But if you don’t mind I’ll sit down on the ground for a few minutes to rest my legs.”

“Please yourself,” said Mr Wombat rather gruffly. But seeing Blinky’s startled eyes, he felt sorry for the little bear and offered to hunt round for a few shoots of plants to eat.

“I’m not hungry,” Blinky said.