Into That Forest (12 page)

I were so inside meself I didn’t notice til the last minute that Ernie were leaving. He had a packhorse with his machine tied to it and I only seen he were going when he stopped beside me and whispered something - which sounded kind - and ruffled me hair. He were a gentle man, I sensed that. When he hopped on his horse Becky patted the box which held the machine.
There, there . . .
she said. I knew what she were doing; she were calming down our song inside the box.

I watched Ernie slowly ride out the front gate with Mr Carsons walking beside him, talking ’bout something. Me mother and father had gone and now Ernie were gone. I wanted to howl like a dog. I wanted to claw at me body. I seen a pool of water in the mud near the horse trough and I don’t know why but I ran towards it, tearing off me shirt and trousers on the way. I rolled in the mud, weeping, feeling the comfort of the warm mud on me skin. I wanted to return to the tigers. I wanted to be a tiger. I were demented - no doubt about that - and I grabbed some mud and tried to draw stripes on me back. I heard Becky making soothing sounds in me ear. I heard me name being called by Mr Carsons, but I didn’t care, I were weeping and howling so much. Then I felt her fingers on me skin. Becky were drawing stripes on me back with the mud. I stopped weeping. It felt calming. I opened me eyes and seen Mr Carsons watching us in the mud. He didn’t try to stop what his daughter were doing to me. Becky were snuffling as she did the stripes and when she finished she laughed with delight. That caused me to laugh too. I didn’t feel so alone now. I were sad, sad to my marrow, but I had Becky. After sitting in the warm mud for some time she stood up and helped me to the trough where we bathed together in the cold water, teeth chattering, me skin like the goosebumps of a plucked chook. After we were clean Mr Carsons took us inside and fed us freshly killed possum.

Cos Mr Carsons knew that I wouldn’t run away without Becky he allowed us to roam free round the farm as long as we didn’t scare the chooks or dogs. One night while I were sitting on the verandah peeking into the darkness hoping Corinna and Dave would turn up, Becky came outside wearing a new dress. She sat on the cane chair near where I were on my haunches. We had both stopped walking on all fours but I didn’t take to sitting on chairs cos they were too hard for me arse. Becky were becoming different. She liked sitting in chairs now. There were something about her mood that didn’t sit well with me. It were like she were smiling down at me from her chair. It were a look I had seen that once before, like she were better than me. I gave her a threat yawn. She laughed and pointed to herself, saying,
Becky
. She pointed to me and said,
Hannah.
I knew me name. I didn’t need her telling me I were stupid. I growled at her but she paid no attention cos her eyes were on a frog hopping across the verandah floor. Her hand jumped out and she caught it in the middle of its leap. She got up and went inside. I were lonely, so I followed her.

She walked down the corridor and went into the bedroom where Mr Carsons were dozing. I peered round the door and seen her slowly approach her father who were lying on his back, his eyes suddenly open, knowing his daughter were in the room. Her eyes were radiant, as the dim light of his bedroom were perfect to see in. She snuffled and moved towards him. I could see dread in his eyes. I think he were wondering if Becky were going to kill him. She stopped at the side of the bed and jumped at him. He sat bolt upright, his eyes bright with terror. Becky laughed. I knew she were playing a game with him only he didn’t know. She looked surprised at his reaction and she gave him a nuzzle. He didn’t know what to make of this but he didn’t push her away. He allowed her to snuffle, lick and nuzzle him. She touched him on the face and began to speak. It were as if she were stuttering at first, saying
d
-
d
-
d
-
d
-
d
-
d
til she paused and then whispered
Daddy.
She grinned and he smiled in return. She opened her left hand and the frog fell onto the bed, surprising her father, before it began to hop across the blanket; it were her gift for him. She nuzzled him as he stroked her hair. They were real close then and I were not.

Every day after that Becky seemed to grow further from me. Her father taught her to speak again. He got me to sit in on her lessons but I were not interested. I didn’t feel the need to speak. I knew what a few words meant, like
food, dog, sheep
and
gun
but I didn’t speak, unlike Becky who ate up all the learning. She were so caught up in it that if she got a word or sentence wrong she would slap her forehead and call herself stupid. Becky wanted to speak like she did before. She wanted to change. She tried real hard, like I hadn’t seen her before. She were the type that were always yes or no. If she wanted something real hard, she tried real hard.

Even when she wasn’t learning or reading she were playing the piano instead of being with me. I think I began to be worried that she were separating herself from me cos me skin broke out in sores something bad. I picked at them and pretty soon I were covered in scabs. Mr Carsons tried to stop me from picking at them but I couldn’t help it. I felt anxious and bothered all the time. Other things were changing with Becky. She began to sleep at night. This really worried me cos I were awake at nights still. One evening I went into her bedroom where she were sleeping and I grabbed her hand with me teeth and tried to pull her on her feet but she slapped me away. She didn’t want to sleep when it were daytime. She said dogs did that, people didn’t.

I spent a lot of time at night by meself. I liked sitting on the roof and listening to the sounds and noises of owls, squealing mice, fighting devils, the quolls running across dry grass and the spitting of possums - all of this wrapped up in the lovely scents of flowers in the night summer breeze.

Becky started to eat cooked meat on a plate with a knife and fork. I ate raw meat and sat on the kitchen floor. One day Becky gave me that strange stare again - one where she looked down on me - and she mimicked the noises I made when I ate and the way I didn’t close my mouth when I chewed. I gave her a threat yawn but she only laughed. Mr Carsons, sitting at the table with Becky, told me to stop. I were angry so I spat meat on his boots. He cried out,
Oh my God!
I laughed at him cos it seemed he were too serious ’bout what I had done. It were so funny that I found meself mimicking him. The first time I were just making sounds and then something happened inside me head. I heard meself and realised that I hadn’t mimicked him properly so I said, clear as a bell,
Oh my God . . . Oh
my God . . .
It struck me - I could talk! Oh, I’ll go bail if I didn’t drove those two mad for the rest of the day, just saying over and over,
Oh my God . . .
like some magic incantation. And it were magic cos I were speaking, even Becky were impressed.

Later in the evening I were watching Mr Carsons put a freshly shot joey in the meat safe that hung from the pepper tree when I heard the faint sound of a sheep bleat in the distance. Becky heard it too, cos she turned in the direction of the sound like I did. It bleated in terror. I heard Mr Carsons ask his daughter what she were listening to, but Becky didn’t answer. She knew what it were, like me. Me heart beat fast with happiness. We shared a look and both of us knew what we were hearing and we took off, not obeying Mr Carsons who were calling us back. His cries telling us to stop could barely be heard over the barking and yelping of the dogs.

We leapt over the front yard gate and ran through the long grass towards where we heard the sheep being killed. I coughed and keened like a tiger but there were no answer. We found Mr Carsons’s prize ram, bright scarlet in the moonlight, its skull crushed and its brain eaten. It were tigers all right. But were they Corinna and Dave? I peered real hard into the darkness and seen two fire-bright eyes staring back at us ’bout a hundred yards away. It were a tiger and it stanked of male. Becky and I coughed and keened then we seen the silhouette of a tiger turn and come towards us. We jumped in fright when we heard a shot whistling past us. It were Mr Carsons shooting at the tiger. The bullet missed and the tiger hightailed it back into the dark bush. Becky’s father gave a large sigh when he seen the dead ram. It were the sigh of a disappointed man. I caught a glimpse of the tiger racing over the hill and made a howl of distress. Mr Carsons slapped me across the leg, telling me to stop. He grabbed Becky’s arm. He were in a desperate, angry mood and asked her if it were a girl or boy tiger. She told the truth - it were a boy.

Next morning Mr Carsons were up very early. He spent nearly the whole day digging a trench in the paddocks. I had no idea why he were doing it, nor did I care. I lied in the sun on the verandah catching up with me sleep while Becky played the piano over and over, the music sounding less . . . less jangled and nervous, more soft and gentle, and it had - if I had known the word then - melody.

When we had finished our tea, Mr Carsons tied us up to the verandah railings again.
Why?
Becky kept asking when he bounded her to one of the posts. He didn’t reply and put a gag round her mouth. He were very serious and had a great purpose in mind - that were easy to tell. What were Mr Carsons doing? I thought to meself. He gagged me, but instead of tying me to a verandah post he pulled me across the paddock to the trench, and after tying me wrists together, lifted me down into it. Only if I stood on me tiptoes could I see over it. Then he covered the top of the trench with a frame of branches, leaves and grass. I heard him walk away and I were left alone. I were frightened and confused - the trench were like a grave. I were in a dark hole with only bits and pieces of moonlight shining through the lid of leaves and branches above me.

After an hour I sat down. I had no idea how long Mr Carsons were going to keep me in the trench. Were he going to kill me? I wondered to meself. Maybe I had done something wrong. But what? I were feeling sad for meself when I smelt a tiger coming closer. I stood up on my toes and pushed me head through the branches. I smelt him first before seeing him, it were Dave. I tried to make noises but me mouth were gagged with a scarf. I seen Dave push his nuzzle through the lid sniffing as hard as possible and then suddenly it were all chaos. He fell through the lid onto me. We were rolling round trying to stand up in the mess of leaves and branches when I heard Mr Carsons running towards the trench and a moment later there he were looking down at us and pointing his rifle at Dave. He reached down with his free hand and lifted me out of the trench.

I flopped down beside the trench. Mr Carsons pointed his rifle down at Dave who were trying to jump out of the trench, and fired three bullets into him. Exactly three - those three shots were like me being stabbed in me heart three times. I crawled to the side of the trench and looked down. Dave were lying there, his eyes closed, his flanks bleeding. He were dead, that were easy to tell. I found meself saying over and over,
Oh my God,
even when Mr Carsons were taking me back to the verandah where Becky were howling with grief and trying to bite the ropes to free herself. Mr Carsons tried to calm her but she tried to bite him even though she still wore a gag. She was furious with her father as I were. I were in a fury of teeth-gnashing and weeping. Dave had helped save us. He and Corinna had cared for us. We had hunted with them. They were our father and mother. Now Dave were murdered. That’s how I thought of it - Becky’s father had cold-bloodedly murdered Dave and used me as bait to attract him cos he knew the tigers cared for me. That’s why Dave sniffed me out and came for me.

We refused to eat for four days. Mr Carsons kept us tied up cos he were afeared that we would run away. Becky didn’t want to talk or play piano, she were grieving like me. He tried to talk to his daughter but she gave him the threat yawn or bared her teeth and growled. He tried to get her to read and play piano, but she tore up the books and spat on the piano keys. She told her father she hated him. It were now his turn to weep. He spent much of the time lying on his bed, his eyes full of misery.

It were me who seen Ernie first. I were listening to me stomach grumble while I lied with Becky on the verandah when I smelt horses. One was a packhorse loaded with boxes while the other had a rider. He were fat. He were Ernie. He rode into the back yard and after getting off his horse he greeted us with a nuzzle. He were puzzled as to why we were so weary. He didn’t know we hadn’t eaten for days. He called out for Mr Carsons and when he got no answer he went inside.

What followed were a strange week. Mr Carsons spent most of the time in bed and Ernie cared for us. Becky had gone back to sleeping of a day and staying awake with me through the night. Ernie bounded us up so we wouldn’t escape cos he knew that we were being called by the bush. We were desperate to find Corinna. He fed us and spent time in Mr Carsons’s room talking gently to him - Becky’s father seemed stricken by some inner sickness. Left to ourselves we didn’t sit on chairs any more but on the floor. Becky and me were now back being close. We were with each other all day and night.

Gradually Mr Carsons spent less time in bed. I think Ernie were trying to change his mind ’bout something. Sometimes he’d take Mr Carsons’s hand and have him come and stare at us and they’d talk softly about things I didn’t understand. The only thing that began to change were that Mr Carsons shook his head a lot when talking to Ernie and then one morning, while we were eyeing the chooks and the two men were looking at us, I seen out of the corner of me eye Mr Carsons nod his head once and after Ernie said something to him, he nodded his head up and down til I thought it were going to fall off.

The next morning Becky and I were in the buggy with Mr Carsons and Ernie were on his horse accompanying us. For the first few hours I thought I could smell a female tiger following us but I didn’t know if I were dreaming it or not. We passed through thick forests and bush til the bush became paddocks filled with sheep and cattle and the tracks became a wide road at the end of which was a distant mountain with snow on it. We travelled over a hill and there in front of us were thousands of houses surrounding a harbour filled with ships.
Hobart
, said Ernie. It meant nothing to me.