Cormorant |
Cormorant
Authors’ note:
During a walk through Black Gully in the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve I spotted two Pied Cormorants who eyed me closely as I skirted the wetland. It didn’t take long before they flew off circling and watching me from above the trees. Driving out of the Reserve I saw to my disappointment that someone had dumped an old couch and lounge chairs and further along the same track a lot of car tires, some with rims. I came home and wrote a story about the two incidents.
During a walk through Black Gully in the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve I spotted two Pied Cormorants who eyed me closely as I skirted the wetland. It didn’t take long before they flew off circling and watching me from above the trees. Driving out of the Reserve I saw to my disappointment that someone had dumped an old couch and lounge chairs and further along the same track a lot of car tires, some with rims. I came home and wrote a story about the two incidents.
The blurb
Alexander and Harry are exploring Black Gully Dam in the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve when they spot a trailer of rubbish being unloaded by two men. The two boys hatch a scheme to report the men to the police when their plan goes horribly wrong and Alexander is held at gun point. What follows is an amazing set of incidents as the bush dishes out its own brand of justice.
One
Black Gully dam sits at the bottom of a deep sandy depression on a relatively flat landscape which is known locally as the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve. The tannin stained water lapping at its muddy banks looks gloomy and appears unwholesomely black to the casual passerby. Untidy copses of spindly River Red Gums growing on the flat inlet side of the dam add to its brooding air.
Well back from the wet black and muddy edge of the dam the very old River Red Gums are truly inspirational. They stand unaffected by the dark ambiance of their surroundings, humble ancient bone coloured sculptures of moulded wood. Their satin textured surface is patterned with a tan coloured ancient script, dictated by gravity, wind and rain. Loose irregular tiles of rust coloured bark hanging from the smooth trunk add a temporary patchwork veneer to the timelessness of this natural creation.
The moodiness of the place doesn’t make itself known to the fourteen year old boy walking quietly down the steep wheel worn track into Black Gully. He carries a long grey stick, once cast off by a Manna Gum at the top of the Gully, now cast off by him as he hurls it skyward like a javelin toward a huge shattered tree trunk lying across his path. The power and finality of the fallen tree makes him pause for a moment and stare in wonder. Even though the collapse had happened some months before, he can sense the pulses of energy still emanating from the tree and the soil that absorbed the force of its fall.
Two Pied Cormorants watch him from a fallen branch at the water’s edge. Their heads swivel and sway like wary snakes watching this new intruder into their tranquil territory. The boy sees the Cormorants and stands statue still to put them at ease. He respects the birds and wants them to remain part of his experience of this place. He skirts the gloomy pond keeping well back so as not to frighten the Cormorants.
His eyes search for a toe hold on one of the beautiful sculptured old River Red Gums.
Alexander is tall for his age, slim and well coordinated. He has an empathy with the natural world and to him it seems to have always been that way. He lithely climbs into the tree keeping behind the main trunk to hide from the searching green eyes of the cormorants. Two strong limbs arch toward the dam and he eases himself along the larger one until he finds a comfortable fork that screens him from the dam. The clusters of leaves at the end of the limb serve as a natural bird hide and he lies in watch.
From his perch he can see the whole dam including the wary Cormorants. He watches
a Swamp Wallaby pad cautiously toward the dam. It seems to be uneasy and constantly raises its head and sniffs as if there is an unfamiliar smell in the air. It crouches beside the dam and puts its lips to the discoloured water and sucks, its slurping sounds quite audible to Alexander.
On the far side an old mangy fox makes its entrance, head down, moving easily, smoothly and constantly alert to danger. The fox is no threat to the healthy wallaby and it continues to drink almost contemptuously.
One of the cormorants dives from its craggy perch and is swallowed by the black pool leaving rings of expanding ripples in its wake. Alexander counts to himself, one, two, three, waiting for it to surface, fifty five, fifty six, fifty seven and the black and white head breaks the surface. Struggling hopelessly, with four webbed feet hanging on either side of the hooked white beak, is a large plump Pobblebonk frog. With a deliberate gulping motion the cormorant begins swallowing the hapless frog, but to Alexander’s surprise the frog expands like a birthday balloon, until it becomes so inflated that it is impossible to swallow and the frustrated cormorant spits it out.
At that moment both the wallaby and the fox turn their heads toward the gully leading into the dam and listen nervously. Another teenage boy careers down the steep slope on his BMX bike. Alexander watches the animals leave but his attention is pulled back to the intruder by the sound of a crash, a yell, a dull thud and silence.
Black Gully dam sits at the bottom of a deep sandy depression on a relatively flat landscape which is known locally as the Inverleigh Nature Conservation Reserve. The tannin stained water lapping at its muddy banks looks gloomy and appears unwholesomely black to the casual passerby. Untidy copses of spindly River Red Gums growing on the flat inlet side of the dam add to its brooding air.
Well back from the wet black and muddy edge of the dam the very old River Red Gums are truly inspirational. They stand unaffected by the dark ambiance of their surroundings, humble ancient bone coloured sculptures of moulded wood. Their satin textured surface is patterned with a tan coloured ancient script, dictated by gravity, wind and rain. Loose irregular tiles of rust coloured bark hanging from the smooth trunk add a temporary patchwork veneer to the timelessness of this natural creation.
The moodiness of the place doesn’t make itself known to the fourteen year old boy walking quietly down the steep wheel worn track into Black Gully. He carries a long grey stick, once cast off by a Manna Gum at the top of the Gully, now cast off by him as he hurls it skyward like a javelin toward a huge shattered tree trunk lying across his path. The power and finality of the fallen tree makes him pause for a moment and stare in wonder. Even though the collapse had happened some months before, he can sense the pulses of energy still emanating from the tree and the soil that absorbed the force of its fall.
Two Pied Cormorants watch him from a fallen branch at the water’s edge. Their heads swivel and sway like wary snakes watching this new intruder into their tranquil territory. The boy sees the Cormorants and stands statue still to put them at ease. He respects the birds and wants them to remain part of his experience of this place. He skirts the gloomy pond keeping well back so as not to frighten the Cormorants.
His eyes search for a toe hold on one of the beautiful sculptured old River Red Gums.
Alexander is tall for his age, slim and well coordinated. He has an empathy with the natural world and to him it seems to have always been that way. He lithely climbs into the tree keeping behind the main trunk to hide from the searching green eyes of the cormorants. Two strong limbs arch toward the dam and he eases himself along the larger one until he finds a comfortable fork that screens him from the dam. The clusters of leaves at the end of the limb serve as a natural bird hide and he lies in watch.
From his perch he can see the whole dam including the wary Cormorants. He watches
a Swamp Wallaby pad cautiously toward the dam. It seems to be uneasy and constantly raises its head and sniffs as if there is an unfamiliar smell in the air. It crouches beside the dam and puts its lips to the discoloured water and sucks, its slurping sounds quite audible to Alexander.
On the far side an old mangy fox makes its entrance, head down, moving easily, smoothly and constantly alert to danger. The fox is no threat to the healthy wallaby and it continues to drink almost contemptuously.
One of the cormorants dives from its craggy perch and is swallowed by the black pool leaving rings of expanding ripples in its wake. Alexander counts to himself, one, two, three, waiting for it to surface, fifty five, fifty six, fifty seven and the black and white head breaks the surface. Struggling hopelessly, with four webbed feet hanging on either side of the hooked white beak, is a large plump Pobblebonk frog. With a deliberate gulping motion the cormorant begins swallowing the hapless frog, but to Alexander’s surprise the frog expands like a birthday balloon, until it becomes so inflated that it is impossible to swallow and the frustrated cormorant spits it out.
At that moment both the wallaby and the fox turn their heads toward the gully leading into the dam and listen nervously. Another teenage boy careers down the steep slope on his BMX bike. Alexander watches the animals leave but his attention is pulled back to the intruder by the sound of a crash, a yell, a dull thud and silence.
Two
Alexander slides off his perch to the ground and lands lightly. The Cormorants lift off, one from its perch and the other from the water and begin circling in ever widening concentric circles as they strive to climb out of the enclosed gully. Alexander runs to where he heard the boy yell. The cormorants circle higher and wider watching the unfolding drama.
“Harry you idiot, you alright”?
Alexander yells as he sprints toward the fallen log. Harry is spreadeagled on his back about a metre clear of the fallen log, his eyes are open but he doesn’t move.
“Harry you alright” he says breathlessly as he squats next to his friend.
“I dunno” says Harry. “I think me backs broken cause I can’t breathe”.
“You look OK says Alexander” reassuringly. “Try getting up”
“I can’t bloody breath you idiot” Harry spurts. “Get some help”
“Your swearing pretty good for someone who can’t breathe” taunts Alexander. “Maybe you’re just winded. Give it a minute or two before I go for help”
The boys sit together and Alexander notices the colour returning to Harry’s freckled face.
“Your freckles are fading, so you must be feeling better, and your breathing better, I think you’ll live”.
“Thanks for the sympathy you dick, it still bleed’n hurts”.
Alexander laughs and looks over the gray trunk at the buckled front wheel on Harry’s BMX.
“Well that’s stuffed. You won’t be riding that home. That’ll teach you to ride without brakes”.
“Yeah, Yeah I know, should have fixed ‘em months ago, but I sort of got used to riding it without brakes”.
Harry was now raised up on his elbows and straining to look over the fallen tree.
“Any other damage”? He asks.
“The frame and back wheel look OK. A new front wheel and you’ll be back on the road”. Harry was now sitting and gingerly twisting his torso assessing the damage.
“Think I’m OK, just needed a minute to get me breath back”.
Harry stands up and punches Alexander playfully in the chest. “I wasn’t really hurt, just acting, I knew I was alright”
“Yeah, Yeah and your acting’s pretty good too”, laughs Alexander. ”If you’re so tough I’ll race you to the track”.
Harry pushes Alexander off balance and sprints toward the dam bank leaving Alexander looking quizzically after him. Alexander pursues his friend but nearly crashes into him as he comes over the top of the bank. He finds Harry crouching behind a fallen log and drops down beside him. Harry points to a ute and trailer parked beside the track. Two paunchy men in their forties are guiltily looking around as if they are expecting trouble. “What are they up to?” whispers Harry.
“Can’t you guess, replies Alexander, they’re going to dump that junk off the trailer”. “Losers”, says Harry, “I think your right”.
Alexander slides off his perch to the ground and lands lightly. The Cormorants lift off, one from its perch and the other from the water and begin circling in ever widening concentric circles as they strive to climb out of the enclosed gully. Alexander runs to where he heard the boy yell. The cormorants circle higher and wider watching the unfolding drama.
“Harry you idiot, you alright”?
Alexander yells as he sprints toward the fallen log. Harry is spreadeagled on his back about a metre clear of the fallen log, his eyes are open but he doesn’t move.
“Harry you alright” he says breathlessly as he squats next to his friend.
“I dunno” says Harry. “I think me backs broken cause I can’t breathe”.
“You look OK says Alexander” reassuringly. “Try getting up”
“I can’t bloody breath you idiot” Harry spurts. “Get some help”
“Your swearing pretty good for someone who can’t breathe” taunts Alexander. “Maybe you’re just winded. Give it a minute or two before I go for help”
The boys sit together and Alexander notices the colour returning to Harry’s freckled face.
“Your freckles are fading, so you must be feeling better, and your breathing better, I think you’ll live”.
“Thanks for the sympathy you dick, it still bleed’n hurts”.
Alexander laughs and looks over the gray trunk at the buckled front wheel on Harry’s BMX.
“Well that’s stuffed. You won’t be riding that home. That’ll teach you to ride without brakes”.
“Yeah, Yeah I know, should have fixed ‘em months ago, but I sort of got used to riding it without brakes”.
Harry was now raised up on his elbows and straining to look over the fallen tree.
“Any other damage”? He asks.
“The frame and back wheel look OK. A new front wheel and you’ll be back on the road”. Harry was now sitting and gingerly twisting his torso assessing the damage.
“Think I’m OK, just needed a minute to get me breath back”.
Harry stands up and punches Alexander playfully in the chest. “I wasn’t really hurt, just acting, I knew I was alright”
“Yeah, Yeah and your acting’s pretty good too”, laughs Alexander. ”If you’re so tough I’ll race you to the track”.
Harry pushes Alexander off balance and sprints toward the dam bank leaving Alexander looking quizzically after him. Alexander pursues his friend but nearly crashes into him as he comes over the top of the bank. He finds Harry crouching behind a fallen log and drops down beside him. Harry points to a ute and trailer parked beside the track. Two paunchy men in their forties are guiltily looking around as if they are expecting trouble. “What are they up to?” whispers Harry.
“Can’t you guess, replies Alexander, they’re going to dump that junk off the trailer”. “Losers”, says Harry, “I think your right”.
Three
The two men were quickly untying ropes and sliding off a tarpaulin revealing some old couches and a heap of car tyres.
“I’m not sure about this Max, what if we get caught”?
Max looks contemptuously at his friend.
“You’re a gutless wonder Bluey, no one comes along this track. Anyway we’ll be gone in a shake if you pull your fricken finger out and get busy”.
Bluey reddened but acquiesces to his mates command and starts unloading tyres off the trailer.
“This’ll give them greenies something to do when they have their next cleanup” says Max. “Anyway where we spose to take rubbish now the tips closed? Its them greenies fault, they don’t like tips. “Jees its costs a fricken fortune to dump tyres at the tip now. It’s fricken ridiculous. I’m not paying to dump old tyres.”
“Yeah, says Bluey, fricken greenies”.
“We’ll get their number and tell the cops in Inverleigh”, says Alexander. “I hate people spoiling the bush.”
“You’re mad, says Harry. They’ll see you”.
“Not if you distract them” says Alexander.
“You are mad” repeats Harry.
“Listen Harry, you start yelling as if you’re in pain, just like you did before, when you were acting”. Harry smiles.
“Just start yelling for help and when they come looking, run for it. Whadaya reckon, you up for it?”
“I dunno” says Harry looking interested in spite of his fears.
Alexander punches Harry lightly on the arm.
“When I get over that hill start yelling” He says and moves off toward the edge of the gully where he can work his way down toward the ute unseen.
Alexander runs crouching and disappears out of sight. Harry watches the men still unloading their junk and sees that they’re nearly done.
“Shit”, he thinks regretfully,” it’s now or never”.
He creeps over the dam bank and lies on his back and starts yelling.
“HELP, HELP, HELP” with as much conviction as he can muster.
Bluey drops the rope he’s coiling and looks at Max.
“What the firck” says Max. “we’d better get out of here”.
“Sounds like someone’s hurt, sounds like a kid”, says Bluey.
“Firck the kid, I’m not hangin round and getting caught for some kid. Get in the car, where leavin”, orders Max.
“But he sounds like he’s dying Max, It won’t take a minute to check” pleads Bluey
Max curses and looks around.
“You have a look and I’ll wait in the ute. One minute and I’m out of here, with or without you. So make it quick”.
Bluey starts toward the cries at the fastest walk he can manage, while Max climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the ute. He feels impatient and uneasy and his senses are on full alert.
Bluey is thinking of his own son and couldn’t have lived with himself if he had given in to Max.
“Fricken Max” he says under his breath. “He’s always up to no good”.
Alexander crouches close enough to read the number plate on the ute, but it’s so muddy he can’t make it out. He works himself slowly towards the back of the trailer. He crouches behind the trailer and sees one of the men making his way towards the dam bank. He can hear Harry calling for help and chuckles to himself. The other man seems preoccupied in the driver’s seat, one brawny arm resting on the door through the open window, a lit cigarette glowing in his stained fingers. Alexander wipes the number plate and reads the three letters and three numbers.
The two men were quickly untying ropes and sliding off a tarpaulin revealing some old couches and a heap of car tyres.
“I’m not sure about this Max, what if we get caught”?
Max looks contemptuously at his friend.
“You’re a gutless wonder Bluey, no one comes along this track. Anyway we’ll be gone in a shake if you pull your fricken finger out and get busy”.
Bluey reddened but acquiesces to his mates command and starts unloading tyres off the trailer.
“This’ll give them greenies something to do when they have their next cleanup” says Max. “Anyway where we spose to take rubbish now the tips closed? Its them greenies fault, they don’t like tips. “Jees its costs a fricken fortune to dump tyres at the tip now. It’s fricken ridiculous. I’m not paying to dump old tyres.”
“Yeah, says Bluey, fricken greenies”.
“We’ll get their number and tell the cops in Inverleigh”, says Alexander. “I hate people spoiling the bush.”
“You’re mad, says Harry. They’ll see you”.
“Not if you distract them” says Alexander.
“You are mad” repeats Harry.
“Listen Harry, you start yelling as if you’re in pain, just like you did before, when you were acting”. Harry smiles.
“Just start yelling for help and when they come looking, run for it. Whadaya reckon, you up for it?”
“I dunno” says Harry looking interested in spite of his fears.
Alexander punches Harry lightly on the arm.
“When I get over that hill start yelling” He says and moves off toward the edge of the gully where he can work his way down toward the ute unseen.
Alexander runs crouching and disappears out of sight. Harry watches the men still unloading their junk and sees that they’re nearly done.
“Shit”, he thinks regretfully,” it’s now or never”.
He creeps over the dam bank and lies on his back and starts yelling.
“HELP, HELP, HELP” with as much conviction as he can muster.
Bluey drops the rope he’s coiling and looks at Max.
“What the firck” says Max. “we’d better get out of here”.
“Sounds like someone’s hurt, sounds like a kid”, says Bluey.
“Firck the kid, I’m not hangin round and getting caught for some kid. Get in the car, where leavin”, orders Max.
“But he sounds like he’s dying Max, It won’t take a minute to check” pleads Bluey
Max curses and looks around.
“You have a look and I’ll wait in the ute. One minute and I’m out of here, with or without you. So make it quick”.
Bluey starts toward the cries at the fastest walk he can manage, while Max climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the ute. He feels impatient and uneasy and his senses are on full alert.
Bluey is thinking of his own son and couldn’t have lived with himself if he had given in to Max.
“Fricken Max” he says under his breath. “He’s always up to no good”.
Alexander crouches close enough to read the number plate on the ute, but it’s so muddy he can’t make it out. He works himself slowly towards the back of the trailer. He crouches behind the trailer and sees one of the men making his way towards the dam bank. He can hear Harry calling for help and chuckles to himself. The other man seems preoccupied in the driver’s seat, one brawny arm resting on the door through the open window, a lit cigarette glowing in his stained fingers. Alexander wipes the number plate and reads the three letters and three numbers.
Four
“Need some help kid?” says Max slyly as he grabs Alexander by the collar“.
“My mates hurt! “ Alexander blurts.
“So what are you doing behind me trailer” said Max accusingly, still holding Alexander by the collar.
Alexander can smell the stale beer and tobacco on Max’s feted breath. He tries to disguise his fear and disgust.
“I was coming to see you when I noticed you had a flat tyre” he lies, glancing down and to his left. :
”Where”? says Max, trying to swivel his body to look at the tyre.
As Max turns Alexander aims a backward kick at Max’s ample shin and strikes home. He feels his collar loosen as Max yells and doubles over in pain.
“You little bastard, you’ll regret that!”
Max lunges at Alexander but over balances falling over the tailgate and crashes face down into his own trailer, his legs flailing uselessly in the air.
Alexander runs putting some distance between himself and Max and he stops, feeling some remorse for the pain he has caused his clumsy assailant. He glances back at Max and decides that he best leave the angry man to let off steam. Alexander stands beside the open driver’s door of the ute and he glances in. The ute is still running with only a solitary key in the ignition. He’s driven his father’s ute often enough on the farm and on an impulse, he turns off the ignition and takes out the key. Max is now nursing a sore head as well as his aching shin and is lying face up in his trailer cursing and crying out in pain.
Alexander stands watching him from a healthy distance waiting for the man to get tired of yelling.
“Sorry about your leg”, he says with a hint of sincerity.
Max glares at him angrily.
Alexander can see the other man has reached the top of the bank and is standing out of breath with his hands on his hips.
“Kid you OK” yells Bluey breathlessly after Harry, who had run off toward the dam. “Yeah, I feel much better now thanks”, yells Harry, stopping and looking back at the man. “I tripped over that log and hurt my leg, but I’m good now”.
Bluey said, “OK kid, ya better watch where ya walking. I better be going”.
Bluey turns and starts back toward the ute but is stopped in his tracks by the unexpected vision of Max lying face up in the trailer holding his head with his left hand and his leg with his right and yelling obscenities from his quite extensive vocabulary.
Standing near the trailer is another tall kid looking sympathetically at the cursing Max. Bluey yells, “What’s going on Max and why are you lying in the trailer?
Max just curses louder and he seems to be saying, “the fricken kid” but Bluey can’t be sure.
Bluey makes his way back to the ute and by this time Max is just whimpering quietly. “Max what’s going on” asks a confused Bluey
Max answers sounding both frustrated and humiliated. “That kid’s got me car key”.
“How did he get the key?” asked Bluey.
“Don’t ask fricken stupid questions and get it back” orders Max.
Bluey turns to Alexander and asks quite politely under the circumstances,
“Can Max have his key back”?
Alexander shakes his head and says, “Maybe he can, but only when you’ve loaded all that rubbish back into the trailer"
“Need some help kid?” says Max slyly as he grabs Alexander by the collar“.
“My mates hurt! “ Alexander blurts.
“So what are you doing behind me trailer” said Max accusingly, still holding Alexander by the collar.
Alexander can smell the stale beer and tobacco on Max’s feted breath. He tries to disguise his fear and disgust.
“I was coming to see you when I noticed you had a flat tyre” he lies, glancing down and to his left. :
”Where”? says Max, trying to swivel his body to look at the tyre.
As Max turns Alexander aims a backward kick at Max’s ample shin and strikes home. He feels his collar loosen as Max yells and doubles over in pain.
“You little bastard, you’ll regret that!”
Max lunges at Alexander but over balances falling over the tailgate and crashes face down into his own trailer, his legs flailing uselessly in the air.
Alexander runs putting some distance between himself and Max and he stops, feeling some remorse for the pain he has caused his clumsy assailant. He glances back at Max and decides that he best leave the angry man to let off steam. Alexander stands beside the open driver’s door of the ute and he glances in. The ute is still running with only a solitary key in the ignition. He’s driven his father’s ute often enough on the farm and on an impulse, he turns off the ignition and takes out the key. Max is now nursing a sore head as well as his aching shin and is lying face up in his trailer cursing and crying out in pain.
Alexander stands watching him from a healthy distance waiting for the man to get tired of yelling.
“Sorry about your leg”, he says with a hint of sincerity.
Max glares at him angrily.
Alexander can see the other man has reached the top of the bank and is standing out of breath with his hands on his hips.
“Kid you OK” yells Bluey breathlessly after Harry, who had run off toward the dam. “Yeah, I feel much better now thanks”, yells Harry, stopping and looking back at the man. “I tripped over that log and hurt my leg, but I’m good now”.
Bluey said, “OK kid, ya better watch where ya walking. I better be going”.
Bluey turns and starts back toward the ute but is stopped in his tracks by the unexpected vision of Max lying face up in the trailer holding his head with his left hand and his leg with his right and yelling obscenities from his quite extensive vocabulary.
Standing near the trailer is another tall kid looking sympathetically at the cursing Max. Bluey yells, “What’s going on Max and why are you lying in the trailer?
Max just curses louder and he seems to be saying, “the fricken kid” but Bluey can’t be sure.
Bluey makes his way back to the ute and by this time Max is just whimpering quietly. “Max what’s going on” asks a confused Bluey
Max answers sounding both frustrated and humiliated. “That kid’s got me car key”.
“How did he get the key?” asked Bluey.
“Don’t ask fricken stupid questions and get it back” orders Max.
Bluey turns to Alexander and asks quite politely under the circumstances,
“Can Max have his key back”?
Alexander shakes his head and says, “Maybe he can, but only when you’ve loaded all that rubbish back into the trailer"
Five
“OK kid” just drop my key on the ground and walk toward the dam. I’ll even overlook the kick in the shins”.
Bluey looks at the raised air rifle in horror and says,
“Kid please do what he says, I don’t want you to get hurt”.
Harry says, “Alexander this guy is off his head, do what he wants and let’s get out of here”.
Alexander takes the keys from his pocket, smiles compliantly and says,
“you just don’t get it do you. This bush, the trees, the animals and those cormorants flying overhead, it’s been like this for millions of years. This place deserves our respect because it’s so ancient and it’s the only bit left. It’s the only place around here where you can come and feel connected to nature and lose yourself. People like you just come in and dump things like it’s a public tip. It’s like cutting down a magnificent three hundred year old gum tree just for a bonfire or shooting a beautiful koala out of a tree just for the fun of it, you just don’t get it”.
Alexander swings his right arm in an arc as if preparing to throw the key to Max, but instead he throws it straight up into the air where it spins slowly, reflecting the sunlight as it turns. Bluey and Max watch the key transfixed by its slow looping motion. The key reaches the top of its upward path and begins falling back to Alexander’s sacred earth.
Alexander and Harry quietly move away and make a dash for the dam bank and their freedom. When they reach the top of the bank they dare a glance back toward the two men who are still standing watching the flying key, mouths open. A black shadow moves across the scene and the key seems to vanish.
“OK kid” just drop my key on the ground and walk toward the dam. I’ll even overlook the kick in the shins”.
Bluey looks at the raised air rifle in horror and says,
“Kid please do what he says, I don’t want you to get hurt”.
Harry says, “Alexander this guy is off his head, do what he wants and let’s get out of here”.
Alexander takes the keys from his pocket, smiles compliantly and says,
“you just don’t get it do you. This bush, the trees, the animals and those cormorants flying overhead, it’s been like this for millions of years. This place deserves our respect because it’s so ancient and it’s the only bit left. It’s the only place around here where you can come and feel connected to nature and lose yourself. People like you just come in and dump things like it’s a public tip. It’s like cutting down a magnificent three hundred year old gum tree just for a bonfire or shooting a beautiful koala out of a tree just for the fun of it, you just don’t get it”.
Alexander swings his right arm in an arc as if preparing to throw the key to Max, but instead he throws it straight up into the air where it spins slowly, reflecting the sunlight as it turns. Bluey and Max watch the key transfixed by its slow looping motion. The key reaches the top of its upward path and begins falling back to Alexander’s sacred earth.
Alexander and Harry quietly move away and make a dash for the dam bank and their freedom. When they reach the top of the bank they dare a glance back toward the two men who are still standing watching the flying key, mouths open. A black shadow moves across the scene and the key seems to vanish.
Seven
A jet black raven had been preening itself in a nearby River Red Gum. It had just finished a ‘cawing’ session with some of the other ravens in its ‘congregation’. They loved getting together and filling the bush air with their beautiful voices, knowing that all the other birds were envious of their ability to completely drown out any other sound. While it was taking a well earned rest and puffing up its magnificent feathers, it spotted something quite unusual.
It had lived in this bush for nearly thirty years and had never seen anything quite like it before. It was a shiny flying thing that deserved further investigation. It swooped in and caught the object in its sharp black beak and flew off to a tree near the dam to investigate the fabulous new wonder that felt hard and warm and glistened most delightfully.
Max and Bluey were getting ready to catch the key when it fell within reach. They had both played cricket in their youth and couldn’t resist the challenge of catching a flying object. They knew that they had to keep their eyes on the ‘ball’ and they were jostling for position when whoosh the key was whisked away by a big black bird.
Max instinctively picked up his new toy and sighted it on the flying bird. He has always considered himself a pretty good shot and can pick off a rabbit sitting in a spotlight at 40 metres, but a moving target will be more difficult. He has to take his shot before the bird flies out of range, so he squeezes the trigger and pop goes his ‘Gamo Whisper’ with an almost inaudible sound.
Alexander and Harry watch the bird fly over their heads. They are over the bank now and out of sight of the two men, and they slow to a jog as they follow the flight path of the bird over the dam. They know that Max and Bluey probably won’t chase them because of the steepness of the climb up the slope and over the dam bank.
The two cormorants watch the raven fly toward them. This isn’t an unusual site, as they are neighbours, sharing the same territory and seeing each other many times each day. As the raven approaches, a black feather ejects from its wing and the raven squawks. A shiny object falls from its beak and splashes into the black pond, glistening most invitingly as it seesaws its way into the tannin stained depths. One of the Cormorants leaves its perch and dives into the pond, giving chase to what looks like a small fish that has somehow escaped from the flying raven.
Alexander watches the key fall and the cormorant dive in after it. He can’t believe the chain of events that he is witnessing. It is as if the bush is dishing out its own brand of justice. Not for the first time this morning he stops in his tracks and shakes his head in wonder.
When the cormorant emerges from the dam it flaps its wings and flies to the dead branch lying in the water where its mate is still perched. A familiar shaped angular lump is slowly working its way down its long white slender neck.
A jet black raven had been preening itself in a nearby River Red Gum. It had just finished a ‘cawing’ session with some of the other ravens in its ‘congregation’. They loved getting together and filling the bush air with their beautiful voices, knowing that all the other birds were envious of their ability to completely drown out any other sound. While it was taking a well earned rest and puffing up its magnificent feathers, it spotted something quite unusual.
It had lived in this bush for nearly thirty years and had never seen anything quite like it before. It was a shiny flying thing that deserved further investigation. It swooped in and caught the object in its sharp black beak and flew off to a tree near the dam to investigate the fabulous new wonder that felt hard and warm and glistened most delightfully.
Max and Bluey were getting ready to catch the key when it fell within reach. They had both played cricket in their youth and couldn’t resist the challenge of catching a flying object. They knew that they had to keep their eyes on the ‘ball’ and they were jostling for position when whoosh the key was whisked away by a big black bird.
Max instinctively picked up his new toy and sighted it on the flying bird. He has always considered himself a pretty good shot and can pick off a rabbit sitting in a spotlight at 40 metres, but a moving target will be more difficult. He has to take his shot before the bird flies out of range, so he squeezes the trigger and pop goes his ‘Gamo Whisper’ with an almost inaudible sound.
Alexander and Harry watch the bird fly over their heads. They are over the bank now and out of sight of the two men, and they slow to a jog as they follow the flight path of the bird over the dam. They know that Max and Bluey probably won’t chase them because of the steepness of the climb up the slope and over the dam bank.
The two cormorants watch the raven fly toward them. This isn’t an unusual site, as they are neighbours, sharing the same territory and seeing each other many times each day. As the raven approaches, a black feather ejects from its wing and the raven squawks. A shiny object falls from its beak and splashes into the black pond, glistening most invitingly as it seesaws its way into the tannin stained depths. One of the Cormorants leaves its perch and dives into the pond, giving chase to what looks like a small fish that has somehow escaped from the flying raven.
Alexander watches the key fall and the cormorant dive in after it. He can’t believe the chain of events that he is witnessing. It is as if the bush is dishing out its own brand of justice. Not for the first time this morning he stops in his tracks and shakes his head in wonder.
When the cormorant emerges from the dam it flaps its wings and flies to the dead branch lying in the water where its mate is still perched. A familiar shaped angular lump is slowly working its way down its long white slender neck.