Danny Allen Was Here (12 page)

Tippy barked.

Danny’s dad jumped back. He brushed his sleeves feverishly and tugged at his shirt.

‘What is it, Dad?’ Danny asked.

‘I saw a spider,’ his father replied. He spun about brushing himself madly. ‘I hate spiders running over me.’

Danny was surprised. He didn’t think his dad was afraid of anything.

‘It’s going up your leg, Dad!’ Danny cried.

Danny’s father did a little jump and shook his leg violently.

Danny pointed and laughed. ‘Just kidding.’

His father pushed his hat from his brow and glared. ‘That’s not funny, Danny.’

Danny disagreed. It was hilarious.

Tippy picked up a piece of the crumbling post and
dropped it at Danny’s feet. He stood back, panting and eyeing his new stick, waiting for Danny to throw it. He obliged. Picking it up, he made it spin like a boomerang. Tippy took off, ears pinned back, tiny muscle-bound legs a blur. He darted through the dry grass.

Danny stared at him, watched his every dodge and weave. With an overzealous skid he scooped the stick into his mouth and came trotting proudly back. The stick was returned again and again.

Danny was happily playing with Tippy when, out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly sensed his father moving slowly toward the drums. Puzzled, Danny watched him.

His dad pulled at his hat and craned his neck. His brow furrowed and his gaze was intense.

Danny tracked his father’s gaze to Sam, who was still sitting on the drum. He had one shoe off and was looking down as if he’d dropped something. Danny heard a soft rumble from within the drum. So did Sam.

He froze.

‘Don’t move, Sam!’ their father called, as he quickened his approach.

Sam sat staring curiously at the drum beneath him. ‘Why not?’

Then they all heard the sound again – shuffling and writhing. There was a rusty hole at the base of the drum. Sam’s weight had been enough to push the drum down and block the hole.

Their dad broke into a gallop. He pointed sternly at Sam. ‘Stay on the drum!’

Sam’s fingers clutched at the drum. He glanced uncertainly from his father to the drum and back to his father again.

Danny stood, mesmerised. The fear he had felt in his hide-out the day he’d run away from home came flooding back. Goosebumps prickled across his shoulders and down his spine.

Danny’s father raised a flat hand at Sam. ‘Just keep still, son!’ he urged. ‘Okay?’

Sam could see the concern in his father’s eyes. ‘What, Dad?’ he said. ‘What is it?’

‘Just do what I tell you. Stay on the drum.’

Danny moved forward to run with his father. Danny’s dad grabbed him and with a grasp as fierce as Danny had ever felt from his father he was thrown backwards.

‘You stay right where you are.’

‘But what’s wrong, Dad?’

‘I said, stay there!’

‘Why?’

‘There’s a snake under the drum!’

‘A snake!’

Sam’s eyes darted frantically, searching the base of the drum. ‘Help me, Dad.’

‘I’m coming. Don’t move.’

Danny stood transfixed. The warm breeze brushed his terrified face and made his wide-open eyes water. His father approached the drum. Sam reached for him and moved to jump.

‘No!’ his father snapped. ‘Don’t stand!’

Danny looked at Sam and wished he were there
with his brother. When Tippy came and dropped his stick at Danny’s feet, Danny ignored him.

Sam suddenly screamed. ‘I’m getting off, Dad!’

Sam didn’t wait for his father’s response. He pushed himself from his perch only to lose his footing and stumble to the ground, his frantic feet kicking up dust. Onto his knees he fell. His hands were clawing clumsily at the ground and his feet – one of them without a shoe – kicked desperately. Danny mirrored the terrified look on his brother’s face.

Danny’s dad lunged at Sam and grabbed him. He flung Sam out of harm’s way with his strong arms.

Sam scrambled to his feet.

Their dad quickly kicked the drum as hard as he could. It spun through the air and rolled away. Over the edge of the cliff it went, rumbling and banging into the creek. Every cockatoo for miles around seemed to take flight.

Danny stood looking through the cloud of dust drifting around his father. It was like watching a dream. Then Danny yelled, ‘Snake, Dad! Look out!’

Danny’s dad lost his footing on a stone and fell onto his back. He sat up quickly and froze. His hat was on the ground, upside down, the Africa stain unseen.

He had always told the boys that when they saw a snake all they had to do was keep still.
Do that and it will go on its way
.

He did just that. He sat perfectly still.

Danny was in awe of his father’s bravery. He was convinced it was the leaping vampire snake set to defend itself, just as it had been when in Danny’s tree. It was afraid too.

A second of stillness and uncertainty increased the tension. So much so that Sam panicked. He thought the snake was too close to his dad. He couldn’t stand back and watch. He picked up a long branch and charged like a knight wielding a sword.

Danny couldn’t believe it. They’d always been taught
never
to approach a snake. ‘Stop, Sam!’ Danny cried, grabbing at his brother’s arm. ‘
Dooooon’t!
’

Sam pulled away and charged. Danny’s father screamed at him. ‘Get back, Sam!’

Sam would not retreat. He swung awkwardly at the snake with his weapon. He missed and struck the ground with the impact of a small exploding bomb.

Clods of earth flew into the air. The snake whipped itself round. With speed impossible to see, it flew at Danny’s father, who pulled his legs back. Incredibly, the snake missed. Sam sliced the air again with his pathetic weapon.

The snake turned to him. Sam was clumsily fumbling with his branch like a soldier in battle trying to reload his gun. Something sharp pricked the foot without a shoe. He was off balance.

The snake turned to its attacker, ready to strike. At the height it was hovering, its fangs would sink into the top of Sam’s thigh, perhaps even the groin – a deadly strike. Danny’s father was on his backside on the ground. Danny’s heart sank when he realised there was nothing he or his dad could do.

Suddenly, the startling blur of a small black and white figure snarled from the shadows and dashed through the dust. Danny stared in disbelief.

‘Noooo!’ he hollered. ‘Tiiiippppy! Noooo!’

The small dog leapt ferociously into battle. Danny’s
dad dragged himself away and rose to his feet. Sam didn’t dare attack for fear of hitting Tippy.

Danny’s dad reached out to Sam. ‘Give me that stick,’ he growled loudly. ‘And get back to Danny.’

Tippy stood barking incessantly.

Danny’s dad called desperately to Tippy. ‘Leave it, Tippy! Leave it, boy!
Leave it!
’

Tippy would not pull back. He was growling and snarling, daring the snake to take up the challenge.

Tippy circled and the snake, still poised to strike, tracked his movements. Tippy crouched, just as he did when waiting for Danny to throw his stick. He showed his teeth in a snarl, ready to pounce.

‘Tippy!’ Danny hollered, thumping his fists desperately to his knees. ‘Tippy! Come here! Now!’

Tippy had never been very obedient.

There was a flash of movement and dust rose above the fierce tangle of the frenzied fighters. Danny watched in horror. Tippy’s snarling head was shaking and whipping. His body, twisting and jumping, was a blur lost in a tiny tornado. Amid the snarling came a shrill yelp that pierced Danny’s heart.

Tippy did not give up the fight. He flew snapping at the snake. He took it in his jaws and tossed his head violently. The snake’s body was a blur in the dust. Tippy shook it violently again and again and again.

All the while, three desperate voices called to him.

‘Tippy! No! Leave it! Come here, boy! Come now!’

But the fierce little dog wasn’t letting go. Not until he was sure he’d won. He growled and snarled determinedly.

In the terrible minutes that followed, Tippy’s wild movements slowed.

The snake too, with its torn flesh, was weak. Once he knew he was safe, Danny’s dad moved in to finish it off. Tippy was staggering. Danny ran to him. Danny’s dad took the snake and tossed it, spinning, into the creek.

Danny scooped up the little dog into his arms. ‘Good boy, Tippy, you’re all right. You’ll be all right now.’ Danny looked to his dad for reassurance. ‘Won’t he, Dad?’

Tippy was panting hard. He wagged his tail and smiled. His coat was dusty and speckled with the splash of brilliant red blood.

Danny tried to wipe some of it away with his hands. A shadow loomed over him. Danny’s dad squatted beside Danny. ‘He’s a little hero, that dog,’ he said, ruffling Tippy’s ears.

‘He’ll be all right, won’t he, Dad?’ asked Danny desperately.

Danny’s dad didn’t answer as quickly as Danny was hoping he might. Danny’s face buckled. ‘Won’t he?’ he pleaded.

Danny’s dad gently stroked Tippy’s head with his rough hands. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I can’t see where the snake got him.’

‘How do you know he got him at all?’ asked Sam hopefully. ‘He might have missed.’

‘Yeah,’ chirped Danny. ‘He’s just tired after the fight.’

Danny pushed his cheek next to Tippy’s snout.