In one marvellous forest there lived one resident — an old and wise oak. It was so enormous that it could be seen even in neighbouring villages and nearby groves. Its branches were so large that all the forest dwellers could shelter under them from rain, from snow, from wind and fierce storms.
In summer the branches became bright green, they were covered with thick foliage, and possums along with other little creatures played hide-and-seek here.
The trunk of the oak could be compared to an enormous cliff that seemed boundless. In the middle of the tree many animals and birds built small homes. At the very base of the trunk a small wombat built its home. The entrance was overgrown with thick grass, and practically no one knew about the existence of this dwelling, so living here was safe and not at all frightening.
A bit higher up settled a family of possums — mum, dad and five joeys. The ginger creatures built an enormous palace in the middle of the oak, each family member had their own room here.
At the very top lived an old kookaburra, who from birth had never flown away from here, and for many years now had been a local resident.
And little creatures who were caught by bad weather would also come to stay on the oak's branches. The old oak was always hospitable and never chased anyone away from its branches.
Let's go for a walk!
Every morning the little joeys would call out to the wombat, who woke up late, only when the sun had already risen.
Don't want to! Call the old kookaburra, he'll definitely keep you mob company. Lately he's been flying out for walks often, and with him you can see lots of interesting things, after all he's lived in this forest for ages and knows all the surroundings.
The striped creature grumbled.
Can we come with you?
Suddenly a squeaky little voice rang out to the joeys' surprise.
Turning their heads, the ginger rascals suddenly saw a small mouse that had climbed onto the very top branch.
What are you doing here?
The joeys asked in surprise.
I came looking for new mates. I was told that many little creatures live on this oak, who you can walk and play with.
Does the oak know you've climbed up here?
I know everything, these are my branches after all! I hardly ever sleep and I'm always aware of who has come to my domain and why.
The old mighty tree laughed.
So what do you reckon, oak? Can the mouse stay here for a bit? We'll play with her, show her our forest beauties.
The joeys called out.
Of course, let her stay.
The oak allowed.
That's how new residents appeared on the tree's branches. Sometimes a little mouse would come to stay, sometimes a magpie would settle not far from the kookaburra's dwelling, and in the evenings they'd sing beautiful songs together as a duet.
Time passed, and the oak became a true enormous forest home in which forest dwellers lived. In autumn the tree absorbed moisture to easily endure summer, and in spring beautiful bright leaves would bloom and green again on the branches, creating shade for the little creatures and protecting them from the heat.
Several months passed after summer's arrival, and suddenly the animals who lived in the oak's trunk noticed that the tree was slowly beginning to wither.
What's happened to you? Haven't you fallen crook, old oak?
The kookaburra asked with concern.
I don't know, I can't work it out myself. For days now I've had no strength at all. My branches are slowly wilting, and the leaves are becoming completely dry. But autumn hasn't even arrived yet, and it's too early for the foliage to fall.
The tree replied.
And so the oak's residents decided to find out at all costs what was happening to the old oak. Each night one of the tree dwellers would stay behind to keep watch over the master of their dwelling. And then came the wombat's turn, who settled comfortably outside right near his home.
Night fell, and the forest became very quiet. The night was so warm, and the wind had completely calmed, and even the foliage wasn't stirring at all. Suddenly the wombat heard a strange scraping sound coming from right under the ground. The little creature crawled towards the sound, and after a couple of minutes a very loud rustling could be heard under his paws.
The wombat decided to dig up the earth a bit to understand what was really happening there. Digging once, twice, three times, he suddenly jumped back. Right under the ground sat an enormous brown worm. It had wrapped its body around the oak's roots and was rocking on them with all its might.
What are you doing here?
The wombat asked in a frightened voice.
I've found myself a new home. But there are such enormous roots here that they need to be destroyed urgently, so I want to gnaw through them.
The unknown worm replied.
What are you on about? This tree already has residents, we have our homes here, and we won't let anyone destroy our good tree.
The wombat cried out in astonishment.
Not a chance! I'll destroy this old bloke's roots and build a whole labyrinth underground.
The worm continued working away.
And then the wombat rushed to tell all the residents of the old oak about this encounter.
Alarm! Everyone get out of your homes quickly! Alarm!!!
The wombat yelled at the top of his lungs.
A terrible and evil resident has settled under our tree. He wants to destroy the oak's roots to build whole labyrinths there. That's why our old and mighty oak is losing its strength. If things keep going like this, the tree won't hold up, it'll wither and fall over.
We won't let some stranger destroy our tree.
The forest dwellers protested.
What should we do? I can't reach the ground with my branches to chase away this villain.
The oak asked.
And so all the tree dwellers gathered together to chase away the worm. They called for help from everyone who cared about the fate of the old and mighty oak, who had always protected his forest neighbours and welcomed them to live in his trunk and on his strong branches.
A fox came to help, and an enormous wombat, and even a wild boar came to help dig up the earth with his sharp tusks.
All together the animals dug an enormous hole and pulled out the villain who was about to destroy the oak's roots. From the creek that ran nearby, the forest dwellers brought water to water the oak.
Several days passed, and the old mighty oak bloomed with its leaves again. All the little creatures and birds began living peacefully in their homes again, and the oak, as before, always gladly welcomed new guests onto its branches.
