Uncle Trev and the Whistling Bull Read Online Free Page A

the biggest coward of all. More often than not, it’s his barking that sets Old Tip going.”
    â€œWhy is Mr Henry so scared of the dark?”
    â€œHe had ten little brothers and sisters, and they were all so scared of the dark they wouldn’t go to bed till their big sister, Nellie, told them a story.”
    â€œI like a story before I go to bed.”
    â€œNot the sort Nellie told.”
    â€œWhat sort?”
    â€œGhost stories.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œAfter one of Nellie’s ghost stories, Gotta and his ten little brothers and sisters were too scared to go to bed.”
    â€œWhat about their mother and father?”
    â€œThey were too scared to go to bed as well. They cooked over an open fire in the kitchen, and the whole family sat there in front of it, and old Mr Henry, Old Gotta’s father, put on more wood to keep out the dark. ‘Tell us another story?’ he’d beg Nellie, and the whole family would say, ‘Yes, tell us another story, Nellie?’
    â€œWhen it finished, they’d all be so terrified, old Mr Henry would put more wood on the fire, and Nellie would tell them another ghost story. Then they’d run out of firewood, and Mr Henry would be too scared to go outside for more.”
    I looked at Uncle Trev.
    â€œHe wouldn’t go outside without everybody going with him. One of the kids held a candle while the rest of them filled the wheelbarrow. Then the wind would blow out the candle, and they’d all shriek and go for their lives. Mr Henry ran fastest, and he’d get inside and slam the door so the rest of them were left screaming outside in the dark. They’d get the door open and tear inside, then the whole family would have to go outside again because their father was so scared, he’d left the wheelbarrow behind.
    â€œThis time, he’d run the loaded wheelbarrow inside the house and get the fire going. Then he’d be too scared to put the wheelbarrow outside, so he’d ask Nellie for another story. By now, the little ones were so tired they climbed into the wheelbarrow in front of the fire and went to sleep, but Old Gotta’s father and mother, old Mr and Mrs Henry – they didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
    â€œWhat about Nellie?”
    â€œLike your mother, she wasn’t scared of the dark.” Uncle Trev nodded and looked over his shoulder again. “Of course, the rest of the family were rank superstitious. They believed all sorts of nonsense. Never bring wattle inside: it’s unlucky. If a fantail flies into a bedroom, somebody’s going to die. If a morepork looks in the window, you’re as good as dead. Never uncross knives somebody else has crossed. Never open an umbrella inside. If you see somebody cross-eyed, spit or they’ll spoil your luck. And you mustn’t get out of the wrong side of bed. They were full of superstitions.”
    â€œMum often says I got out of the wrong side of my bed.”
    â€œI always stick my right foot out first,” said Uncle Trev. “And always put your sock on your right foot first.”
    â€œMum says thirteen’s unlucky.”
    â€œThat’s right. And never start a journey on a Friday.”
    â€œAnd she says never leave a house by a different door from the one you entered by.”
    â€œUnless,” said Uncle Trev, “you sit down. It’s all right then. And if you put on a cardigan inside out, it’s bad luck to take it off and put it on the right way. And if you break a mirror, you have to wait seven hours, then bury all the broken bits by moonlight.”
    â€œAnd something about an old clock that hasn’t worked for years…” I said.
    Uncle Trev nodded. “Sometimes you wake, and an old clock that hasn’t gone for years is striking midnight. If you hear it strike thirteen times, that means you’re dead.”
    â€œCan’t you do anything?”
    â€œOld Gotta’s