I were still jittery and eyeing for an escape. The man said something and touched me. I tried to move away but Becky held on to me. I didn’t want eye contact with the man just in case he got angry with me. But I glanced at him and seen only a beard and hat. I caught Becky’s eye and she knew what I were thinking - let’s get out of here. I took off again, forgetting there were the other man nearby. He were fat but quick and he fell onto me, crushing me into the snow.
I s’pose they were worried that we would take any chance to run away, so we were tied to the packhorse with a rope, unable to move our hands. They had put some of their spare clothes on us. The trousers and shirt made me itch all over. I didn’t struggle when they were putting them on cos I were stunned and shocked. But as they were tying me to the horse there were something familiar ’bout the bearded man’s voice. It dawned on me that the older man whose face were hidden behind all that untamed hair were Becky’s father, Mr Carsons.
He led the packhorse we were tied to, while the fat bloke rode behind us. We headed along the ridge. Halfway down it I heard a noise in snowy scrub nearby. Mr Carsons turned in his saddle, aimed his rifle and fired into the bushes. We jumped at the sound. He shot at the bushes again and the tigers ran from their hiding place down the other side of the ridge. Me and Becky coughed and barked out to them but they had skedaddled away. Mr Carsons said something to us. Becky and I looked at each other. We had no idea what he were going on ’bout. I were so not used to hearing people talk that it sounded like nonsense. Becky seemed to have gone into herself and looked so pale that she were as white as a winter’s moon.
For three days and nights we travelled. For the first day I knew the tigers were following us. I seen them gliding through the mess of trees and shrubs. After that I seen them no more. I sniffed the air hard, as did Becky, but there were no familiar smells. They gave up on us, I s’pose. We were always tied up, whether it be on the packhorse or when we went to sleep round the campfire at night. Oh, that fire were so damn good. Sometimes Becky and I got so close to it that the men had to drag us back from it. One time I fell into it and they had to pull me kicking and screaming while they slapped me noggin cos me hair were on fire.
The other man, the fat one, were clean-faced and younger than Mr Carsons. He sang and whistled when we rode, and at night he sang songs while we ate round the fire. His name were Ernest - he told us to call him Ernie. He laughed a lot. Mr Carsons had no laughter in him. He tried to cuddle Becky many times but she struggled away and when she did that he’d cry. I reckon she were already missing the tigers’ fur and their smell. These two fellows stanked funny. It were a sort of stink like something really stale. Tigers smelt of the earth, the trees, the animals they ate and their spicy fur. These two fellas’ stink were nothing like that - it were bitter and ugly.
I’d sit with Becky and we listened to the animals and birds of the night. There were the crackling leaves that meant a quoll were passing by. There were hissing and spitting in the distance as the devils had a brawl ’bout the animal they were eating. I could hear the owls and feel me blood go hot when I heard the squeal of the animals they catched. Becky’s body went rigid when she heard it too. We were alive at night, all our nerves were sparking and prickly. Mr Carsons were worried about us being awake at night, so he stayed up watching us and then the fat bloke woke to take his turn to guard us. We went to sleep near dawn and then snoozed on the packhorse as it made its way down the hills.
On the morning of the third day I seen a thin line of smoke in the distance and knew it were a house. We did not make for there, instead we took a trail through some trees and once they had thinned out we entered a huge valley. It were hotter now we were down from the hills. I seen some sheep and me stomach rumbled and me blood got excited. As we got closer I could see a house and barn. Mr Carsons turned round on his horse and said something to Becky. She did not answer. Maybe she wanted to but she didn’t have the words for it any more.
As I peered over Becky’s shoulder, cos she were in front of me, I remembered like it were a dream that I had seen this farm before. It were Mr Carsons’s place. Becky were tied to me and I felt her body tremble like it were a fern in a violent wind. Mr Carsons got off his horse and walked the packhorse down the track through the front gate into the yard. Dogs ran out to greet him but on smelling us started barking like crazy. They jumped up at us so we snarled and barked back at them. They were scared shitless and skedaddled back to their kennel boxes, tails between their legs.
We rode towards the barn. Me blood got excited again when I seen chooks wandering round with no fear in their eyes. We stopped and Mr Carsons and the other bloke took us down from the packhorse. Once the dogs seen we were off the horse, they howled and barked and huddled up in a corner of the back yard. I smelled their fear and me body tingled with excitement. I also felt peculiar. I knew this were Mr Carsons’s farm, cos I had seen it a couple of times, but I had forgotten it so it were new and strange to me now.
Still roped up, we were led to the verandah in the shade where we flopped down, exhausted and confused. I didn’t know if Becky understood her father. He spoke to her a lot while Ernie were busy near the horse trough boiling water in a huge tin can on a fire. All I could understand in the mosquito buzz of Mr Carsons’s words were
bzzz . . . Becky . . . bzzzz, Becky
. He kept on forcing her to look at him by holding her head like a vice and turning it towards him, but she coughed and opened her jaw, letting him know she did not want eye contact. We had learnt not to do that, cos it makes a tiger angry.
Before we had time to recover, the men took off our clothes and carted us to the trough. We were struggling cos we didn’t know what were happening. Ernie had poured the hot water into the trough. When I seen that water and felt the men’s strong arms trying to push us in, well, I barked, coughed and gave them a threat yawn, but they still shoved me in. I can see now how filthy we must have been. We were a mess of bruises, scars and calluses, especially on our hands and knees. Our hair were dirty, so dirty that Becky’s blonde hair were black. The men were trying to calm us with their words and firm grip. It were like torture as they soaped us. I could take no more and bit one of the men’s hands - I have no idea whose hand. The grip went weak and I jumped out of the trough and started running. There were a right kerfuffle with yelling, shouts and barking - and howling from the scared dogs - as I made a run for it. I seen the far cloudy mountains and I set out for them.
I had only taken a few steps when I slipped in the mud and Ernie dived on me. We rolled in the mud. I tried to bite his face but he slapped me hard. He carried me back to the trough. Just as he threw me back into it Becky took the opportunity to leap out but she slipped in the mud too. Her father caught her and put her back in with me. They washed us clean and then took us onto the verandah to dry us. I felt naked, not cos I weren’t wearing clothes but cos I didn’t smell like meself any more. It were as if me real clothes had been taken from me. I smelt raw like a skinned sheep.
Mr Carsons went inside and returned with two women’s nightdresses and after measuring them against us, and finding them too large, he cut off the ends and dressed us in them. Then he tied a rope round our waists. The dogs continued to howl and bark. I wanted to go and piss in the yard to leave me scent to put the fear of God into them, but we were taken inside. The house reminded me of the bounty hunter. To me the insides of a house were where killers lived. I were stubborn and tried to resist but Ernie were strong. We were taken down a corridor and I followed Mr Carsons and Becky into a room.
It were dark and Mr Carsons pulled open the curtains. There were a bed and some furniture. He guided Becky to a dressing table and showed her a photograph of him with a woman and a baby. He said something, asked her something, but she had no clue what he were talking about and she looked to me as if I might understand, but I had no idea either. Then she suddenly let out a shout and jumped back from her twin. Me too, I were shocked. I had seen meself reflected in the water when I drank it but Becky and I had forgotten about mirrors and we found ourselves growling at her twin til it dawned on us that the twin were not real - she were only Becky.
I were sorely in need of rest. It were the middle of the day. Mr Carsons seemed upset by Becky’s reaction to the photograph, and seeing we were yawning with tiredness took us outside onto the verandah and tied us to the railing. We balled up together, seeking warmth and comfort, and went to sleep. It were a fitful sleep. We kept waking up on hearing footsteps on the verandah floor, the clucking of chooks and the bleating of sheep.
Round twilight the two men took us into the kitchen. Ernie put me on a chair. It felt hard on me bum and I slid off it onto the floor. He tried to lift me up on it again but I made meself feel like a rag doll and I slid off again. He gave a big sigh and left me on the floor. Mr Carsons told Becky to sit. She just stood. He pushed her onto a chair. She squealed like a quoll being attacked and plopped down on the floor next to me. He tried to lift her back in the chair again but when he stepped away she just flopped down next to me. He gave up after that.
They gave us some food. It were hot and tasted like charcoal. I spat it out, so did Becky. It were a dreadful taste. Then I knew what we wanted. We wanted raw meat. We wanted energy. We wanted fresh meat and, if the truth be known, the taste of blood. Ernie tried to put some food into me mouth. I spat it out and Becky started to tear off her shift. It were so funny as she growled and tore at it that I laughed meself sick. Then she stopped right in the middle of her fury and listened. I stopped laughing and listened too. We could hear a faint scurrying and then a mouse appeared in the far corner and fled back behind the wall. Becky growled a command to me. I knew what that meant:
Let’s skedaddle
. We jumped up and raced out on all fours into the night and freedom.
We ran down the dark corridor to a door, but it were locked. We turned to go the other way and seen Ernie, surprisingly fast for one so big, race to the other entrance to block it off. Both men were yelling for us to stop. Ernie came at us. We ran back and stopped halfway in the corridor. We were panting with excitement and panic. I looked into a side room. Becky knew, for we could talk without words, that I had seen an escape route.
It were the parlour window we made for. It were opened and we jumped through it and onto the grass. I heard the two men running down the corridor and outside into the back yard. Becky and I looked round. Where to go? There were a fence ahead of us, but there were also a small track down the side of the house that led to a gate we could easily get over. We set off on all fours again, not realising cos we were so wound up that we weren’t listening properly. I thought the men were behind us, but one had gone round the side of the house and came straight at us. It were Mr Carsons. We tried to turn back but there - ready for us - were Ernie.
We were tied up to a bed. We couldn’t undo the knots cos our fingers wouldn’t work. Becky tried to chew through the ropes, it only made her gums bloody. We were trapped. It were like being in a prison. We howled and growled. We listened without breathing, hoping the tigers would call out to us, but heard only silence.
Next morning we were drowsy from lack of sleep. The two men carted us outside where they had made a strange contraption. There were two, made of leather and tied by a rope to a pepper-tree branch. They put us into a contraption each. It were like a straitjacket that kept us hanging upright, our toes just touching the earth. We swang back and forth for what seemed like hours and the men gradually lowered the ropes, keeping us upright til our feet touched the ground, but we were still hanging. Mr Carsons untied Becky and she stood upright and began to walk. The two men cried out in gladness at what they seen. They untied me but it felt strange to put so much weight on me feet that I fell to the earth. Becky seen me on all fours and joined me, much to the woe of the two men.
Again and again they put us in the contraption to make us try and stand on two feet. Most times we just swang back and forth from the tree, dozing through the hot day, sometimes waking on hearing a chook or the bleating of sheep out in the paddocks. We were awful hungry.
Late in the day Carsons did some work round the barn. I woke up when I seen him throw some meat and bones to the dogs. Ernie were asleep in a cane chair on the verandah. I kicked Becky awake and she seen what I did - the bones and meat. Mr Carsons had gone round the back of the barn. Me ropes were slack and I wiggled free, then I helped Becky. Ernie were still snoring away. We raced across the yard to the dogs. They howled and scattered. We pounced on the animal carcass they were eating. Oh, the yard were full of dogs barking and howling, chooks squawking, roosters cockadoodling and Becky’s father yelling at Ernie. By the time the two men had got to us, we had gobs full of meat. Mr Carsons grabbed his daughter and Ernie held me. Mr Carsons was real angry and slapped Becky on the legs - she didn’t cry out, our bodies had been made hard.