Dinewan the Emu, and Goomblegubbon the Bustard

Dinewan the Emu, and Goomblegubbon the Bustard

Long, long ago, when birds still discussed who should run across the plains, who should soar high in the sky, and who should wake the morning with a song, there lived a great emu named Dinewan.

Dinewan was tall, strong, and swift. When he ran across the open ground, the dust rose in a light cloud behind him. The other birds respected him and often said:

“This is the true lord of the plain!”

Nearby lived Goomblegubbon the bustard with her family. She was a fine bird too: watchful and agile, with broad wings. Yet whenever she heard Dinewan praised, an unpleasant feeling tightened inside her.

“Why does everyone only notice him?” she thought. “Am I any less wonderful?”

One day Dinewan walked past her, spread his wings, and gave a deep, satisfied call:

“Boo-oo-oom.”

Goomblegubbon decided that he was showing off on purpose.

“You’ll see,” she muttered. “I’ll prove I’m cleverer.”

The next morning, seeing Dinewan from afar, Goomblegubbon pressed her wings tightly to her sides and crouched in the grass so that they were completely invisible.

Dinewan came closer.

“Good morning. Why are you sitting so strangely?”

“There’s nothing strange about it,” Goomblegubbon replied. “I’ve simply realised something important.”

“What?”

“A truly great bird doesn’t need wings at all.”

Dinewan was surprised.

“Doesn’t need them? What do you mean?”

“Think about it. Plenty of birds can fly. But running far across the land, relying only on strong legs—that takes a special skill. I’ve decided not to use my wings any more.”

Dinewan looked at her closely. He could barely see her wings at all.

“You don’t spread them at all?”

“Not at all,” said Goomblegubbon seriously. “And everyone will soon see how unusual I am.”

Dinewan went home thoughtfully.

In the evening he said to his family:

“Maybe we should stop flying too? If our strength is in our legs, then why do we need wings?”

From then on, Dinewan and his family used their wings less and less. Seasons passed. In those ancient magical days, habits could even change a creature’s body, and the emus’ wings grew smaller and smaller until only tiny ones remained.

When Goomblegubbon saw this, she jumped out of the grass and spread her wings wide.

“I’ve tricked you!” she cried. “My wings are still here!”

She flapped them and rose above the plain.

Dinewan realized that he had been deceived.

“So you were only pretending all this time?”

Goomblegubbon circled him and laughed.

Dinewan was deeply hurt.

At first, he wanted to think of a way to get his revenge at once. Then he sat in the shade and remained silent for a long time.

But the hurt would not leave him.

A few days later he noticed Goomblegubbon with a large family. Many young chicks were running around her.

Then Dinewan thought of a trick.

He asked most of his little ones to hide behind a thick bush, and left only two with him.

When Goomblegubbon approached, Dinewan pretended to be very pleased.

“I have finally learned the secret of big, strong children,” he said.

“What secret?” Goomblegubbon asked warily.

“Look after only two at a time. Then they get more attention, more food, and more time to learn.”

Goomblegubbon looked at the two young Dinewans. They were indeed big and strong.

“And where are the rest of your children?”

“With relatives,” said Dinewan calmly. “They will live there for a while.”

Goomblegubbon thought for a moment.

She remembered how she had recently deceived Dinewan, and she suspected a trap.

But envy whispered again:

“What if he is telling the truth? What if his two grow up to be bigger than mine?”

That same day, Goomblegubbon arranged for some of her chicks to stay with relatives on the far side of the plain. She kept only two beside her.

The next morning she proudly came to Dinewan.

“See? I only care for two now, too.”

“And where are the others?” asked Dinewan.

“With the relatives. I decided it would be better this way.”

Then Dinewan called out:

“Come out!”

And all his hidden chicks ran out from behind the bush.

Goomblegubbon’s eyes widened.

“You fooled me!”

“Just like you fooled me,” Dinewan replied.

Goomblegubbon was about to scream angrily, but suddenly she stopped.

The two birds looked at each other.

Then at their children.

Then back to each other.

“We are acting foolishly,” Goomblegubbon finally said.

Dinewan nodded slowly.

“Because of who is bigger, who flies higher, and who gets praised more often.”

“And our families suffer for it.”

Goomblegubbon flew off to get her chicks, and by evening her whole family was together again.

Dinewan also gathered all his little ones.

But the old magic days had already left their mark.

The Dinewans’ wings remained small. Since then, emus have relied more on strong legs and fast running.

Goomblegubbon remembered how easily envy had led her to compare her family with another. The old legend says that ever since, bustards have laid few eggs and cared especially tenderly for their young.

And when the birds of the plain saw Dinewan and Goomblegubbon together, they no longer argued about who was the best.

For one could run as fast as lightning on the ground.

The other could soar into the air on her wings.

Each had a strength of their own.

And life became much easier when each stopped measuring themselves by someone else’s wings.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨