Forest Spirit (8 page)

Seeing the drawing confirmed it for Jars. Her dream had been real.

She thought for a moment. That meant the ancient man was real too. She studied the drawing. Yes, there was no doubt. It was an exact copy of what she had seen. The swirls and animal tracks were the same. Shadow let out a whimper as though sensing something was wrong.

The ranger saw the puzzled frown on Jars' face. ‘What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

Feeling a little foolish, Jars attempted a smile. She held up the piece of paper. ‘Nothing's wrong. I – I just noticed this drawing and I wondered what it was.'

Reg walked over to Jars. He took the paper from her outstretched hand and looked at it. He frowned, and stared at Jars. She took a step back, not liking the sudden change that had come over him. His easygoing friendliness had given way to something else. What was it, she wondered? Had she done something wrong? Why else would he look so angry?

‘I – I'm sorry Mr Carter,' she stammered. ‘I didn't mean to pry.'

The ranger hesitated a moment then, apparently gathering his thoughts, waved the drawing in the air. He turned to the others. ‘This doesn't really concern any of you,' he said in a raised voice, ‘but since Jars has seen it, I might as well tell you all.'

Snook and his dad looked at each other, surprised at their friend's tone. Even Quenton raised his eyebrows.

The ranger's manner became more subdued. ‘It's a drawing of a petroglyph,' he continued, ‘a carving made by ancient man thousands of years ago.

‘A what?' Snook chimed in. He sauntered over and stole a glance at the drawing. ‘It just looks like a lot of scratches and circles to me.'

The ranger's eyebrows furrowed as though he was deep in thought. He explained. ‘Yes, the carving does look like that. But actually, the meandering lines you see are dotted with animal tracks. They held a special meaning for the Aboriginal people.'

‘Yeah, like what?'

‘To be absolutely sure, you'd really need to talk to the people who made the carving. That's impossible, so we have to rely on what the experts tell us. They say that images like these might have something to do with sorcery, that they were made by Dreaming beings.'

Jars cocked her head to one side, her eyes riveted on the drawing. ‘So, this drawing was made from a carving. Was it found near here? Did the Dreaming people make it here?' Then, without waiting for a reply, she added. ‘I could make out the animal tracks, but what do the other markings mean? The circle ones …?'

‘The Dreaming beings are said to be the shape of things in the past
and
the future. They protected the people's sacred knowledge. As for the circle shapes you're so curious about Jars, I don't know what they represent.'

‘So,' Snook interrupted, ‘how come you got a drawing of one? Did you find one of these petro things?'

The ranger hesitated before continuing. ‘Look, I think we've said enough about petroglyphs for now. If you want to learn more, have a look in the Zeehan museum one day. You'll find a large photo of one with a description.'

‘Oh, so this is a drawing of that one?' Snook said.

The ranger folded the paper and put it in his back pocket. ‘Let's, er, leave it at that, shall we? Besides, I've got something to give you.' He walked over to a cupboard at the far side of the office. He reached in and took out a cardboard box.

Snook couldn't contain himself. ‘What's in it?'

Quenton, recovered now from his car sickness, pushed himself off the wall and joined them.

‘I thought these might be of some use to you,' Reg began. ‘They're Parks and Wildlife torches. We use them as giveaways to guests, so here, there's one each.'

‘Thank you,' Snook and Jars both said as they each received their gift.

Quenton slouched back and resumed his previous position against the wall. ‘I've already got a torch,' he said, in a superior tone. ‘My father gave it to me. He told me it was the best that money could buy, so I don't want one of those.'

Reg shrugged. ‘I see,' he said. ‘However, here's something else I'm going to give you. It's information that you can't buy.' Then he added, ‘I suggest you listen carefully, young fellow.' Although speaking to the group as a whole, the ranger's eyes never left Quenton. ‘Don't go wandering off by yourselves up there. There is a path through the forest – Wombat Track it's called, but it's fairly rugged and at times hard going. It's okay to go walking there, but don't go on your own. Something might happen. You might twist an ankle, or even get bitten by a snake.'

‘What,' Quenton said, suddenly interested, ‘snakes? Are they dangerous?'

‘Yep, there are only three types in Tasmania and they're all poisonous.'

‘Yeah,' Snook interrupted, ‘the tiger snake, the whip snake and the copperhead. That's right, isn't it, Mr Carter?'

‘That's right, Snook. But don't let snakes worry you too much. If you see one just leave it alone and it won't bother you. But remember, you'll be on your own out there, so be carefuIl…'

Jim raised his eyebrows. ‘You mean there'll be no-one else out there? No-one at all? What if we need to get in touch with someone? I mean if we get into a spot of bother and need help, what can we do?'

‘You won't be able to do much at all, Jim. Your mobile phone's no good to you. They're out of range once you leave the town boundaries. But don't worry, like I said, I'll pop out to see you as soon as I get back from Hobart.'

Frowning, Quenton faced the ranger. ‘It sounds dangerous. I mean, being all alone and everything.'

‘What I told you before isn't strictly true,' the ranger said, his green eyes suddenly twinkling. ‘You
will
have company.'

All eyes swivelled in Reg's direction. He waved his arm in a sweeping gesture towards the mountains. Then, in his best ghostly voice, but with a slight mocking tone, he said to a now curious Quenton, ‘The spirit will be with you. You will have the Forest Spirit to keep you company.'

Jars was listening intently, open-mouthed. At that moment, the door to Reg Carter's office suddenly opened and a middle-aged woman burst in.

Jars turned her attention to the newcomer. Although dressed in casual clothes, the woman's face was heavily made up, with lipstick, mascara and eye shadow. The false covering failed to hide the natural pallor of her skin, which was a sickly white, like a snake's belly. But there was something else about her. When Jars suddenly realised what it was she felt her body tense, and her mind raced.

‘Hello, Reg,' the woman gushed as she breezed across the floor to the ranger. ‘I just thought I'd drop in, to tell you that my brothers have found some evidence of illegal fishing on the river. But I see you have company, so that can wait.'

The ranger faced Evelyn Grimshaw. ‘Yes, Evelyn, that will have to wait, I'm afraid. I've been summoned to Hobart by the powers to be. I'll be leaving shortly.'

‘Is that so?'

Reg nodded, then gestured with his hand. ‘By the way, Evelyn, these are some friends of mine.' He quickly introduced everyone. ‘I was just explaining to Jim about the forest and lake, and where to set up camp. I was going to show them the place in person, but now that I have to go to the city …'

‘So, you'll be gone for a while?'

The ranger nodded once more. ‘Yep, overnight at least.'

Evelyn gave a strange smile and turned to face Jim Kelly. ‘You'll be setting up camp near the lake, I take it. Doing a spot of fishing, no doubt?'

Jim nodded. ‘That's right; on the edge of the lake and the forest I think.' He looked towards Reg.

‘Yes, near Wombat Track.'

‘Oh, I hope you won't be wandering off into the forest,' Evelyn quickly interrupted. ‘That wouldn't be a good idea. I mean to say, people have been lost in that area.'

The ranger raised his hand, palm out. It had the desired effect. ‘It's all right, Evelyn, we've been through all that.'

Evelyn smiled thinly. ‘Very good, as long as you stay close to the lake and don't go into the forest you'll be okay.' She raised her hand in a farewell gesture, turned and made for the door. Halfway there, she paused, twisting her head to face the Kellys. ‘Wombat Track, eh. I wouldn't go near it if I were you – wet and slippery and full of snakes. A dangerous place. Well, I won't interrupt you any further. It was nice to meet you all.' She waved again, exiting quickly as if she had just remembered something important she had to do.

The ranger pretended to wipe some sweat from his forehead. ‘Whew, talk about a whirlwind. A bit strange too. She seemed unusually interested in where you were going. As far as Wombat Track being dangerous, it's like I told you before. It's rugged to walk on, but it's fine as long as you're careful and don't stray from it. As for her brothers being on the river … they never go there. They do all their fishing on the lake.' He scratched his head. ‘Yes, very strange.'

Jars was only partly listening. She was deep in thought. The perfume that the woman had worn was familiar. Jars had come across it before – in Quenton Quigley's house.

The ranger suddenly slapped the side of his head. ‘Whoops, there's something that's just occurred to me. Can you do me a favour, Jim?'

‘Sure.'

‘I've just remembered Shadow. He'll need looking after while I'm away. And the way he's taken to Jars, I was wondering …?'

‘Say no more, Reg. Shadow can come with us.'

‘Do you know,' the ranger said, looking in Jars' direction, ‘that dog has never taken to anyone else before, not like he has with Jars. He's always stayed close to me like a, well, a shadow. That's how he got his name.'

Jim laughed. ‘Well, I'd say he's got someone else to shadow now. Right, Jars?'

Jars grinned and walked towards the door. Shadow padded close behind, followed by the others.

Reaching the car, Jars opened the rear door. ‘Hop in, Shadow, you can sit in the back with Quenton and me.'

Quenton scowled. ‘I don't want to sit next to him. He's too big, and besides, there's no room.'

Snook joined them. ‘What's the big deal, Quigley? If it worries you so much, you go sit in the front with Dad.

Snook's dad climbed in behind the wheel. He wound down the window. ‘See you later, Reg … when you get back from your trip.'

‘Sure thing, Jim, and kids …'

‘What?' Snook asked.

The ranger grinned. ‘Remember what I told you. There's a ghost out there … the Forest Spirit.' Laughing, he waved as Snook's dad started the car. All except Jars smiled at the ranger's humour.

‘This is the place,' Jim said, pulling to a stop. ‘Right next to the lake.' He shifted his gaze to the north where the edge of the forest lay. ‘And look, there's the track, over there to the left.' He thrust his chin in the general direction, then opened the door and climbed outside. ‘You guys can pitch the tents while I unload the rest of the gear.' He pointed to a grassy spot. ‘Over there looks good.'

Shadow was the first out, followed by Snook. ‘C'mon Jars,' Snook said, ‘we'll put up our big tent. Quigley, you can fix your own.'

‘Oh, I won't have any trouble erecting my tent. My dad says it's really easy to put up. After all, it's the best you can buy.' He climbed out and walked to the rear of the car where the two tents were packed.

Jars hesitated before climbing from the back seat. ‘Shouldn't we help Quenton anyway?'

‘Nah, Snook said, ‘he's been braggin' about his tent ever since his old man bought it for him. If it's that good, let him manage on his own. But I wouldn't mind betting he'll stuff it up anyway.'

Quenton poked his head from behind the car. ‘I heard that. Stop picking on me. You've been putting me down ever since
she
arrived. Before, you were my best friend. Now she is. It's not fair.'