Into That Forest - By Louis Nowra Page 0,18

The tigers must have known what autumn meant cos they didn’t bother to sniff out prey and one evening set off at a steady pace in the opposite direction of our usual hunting grounds. I knew what that meant. They were planning on a long walk. We headed off through tara fern country and once we had left the green world we moved through a forest of blue and silver gums, taking a wide berth round giant fields of barking brilla that we knew were squirming with tiger snakes, and headed down the slopes.

Becky and I wondered where we were going, but the tigers had no way of explaining to us so we could only follow. Becky were thinking out loud at one point, becoming excited that they might be taking us home. I didn’t think so, but they had a purpose in mind cos they seemed to be dead certain where they were going. The good thing were that as we went further downhill the warmer it became. It had been hard to keep warm at times cos I had little of me dress left. It were really just a piece of ripped material that hanged on me like a useless kerchief, and Becky’s, although she was always trying to look after it, were torn too and she used the cameo to pin together two pieces at the top of her dress. She didn’t want anyone to see her chest. Who cares? Who’s gonna see your tits out here? I’d say, which really made her cranky. She thought I were right grubby but I didn’t care. I were wearing bits of me dress but I had thrown away me underclothes. It were easier to piss and shit without them. Becky still washed hers in the creek and wouldn’t be seen without them.

Just after dawn the tigers stopped. They sniffed the air. We sniffed the air too. There were the smell of smoke. Becky burst into a grin as wide as a tiger’s yawn. I always remembered what she said then, in an excited voice, her eyes sparkling: A house! That’s someone’s fire! Without waiting for us, she ran off through the brush and up a slope where she stopped and stared at something I could not see. I raced to join her and there through a mist of trees were a wooden shack with smoke puffing out of the tin chimney. There were someone there! Me heart beat so loud I thought I were going deaf. We were looking at the cottage when I seen a figure, a man with a wild ginger beard, step off the back verandah and walk towards his horse tied to a tree. It’s a man, she said, excited and twitching as if stanged by jack jumpers. She were about to yell out to the man when I slapped her arm.

I recognised him; it were that terrible tiger man who sometimes stayed with me parents. Then I seen he were holding something that made me want to piss meself. I squeezed Becky’s arm real hard. She spinned round wanting to hit me. I pointed to a huge carving knife he had in his hand. So what! she replied, thumping me back. I were aware of a padding sound behind us and seen the two tigers had joined us. They too were watching this fella as it began to drizzle. There were something ’bout the way he held the knife that scared me. I thought he were going to kill the horse but he threw the knife into the ground and untied a bundle that were strapped to its back. I heard Becky gasp. It were a dead tiger. Then before we had time to think what this meant, he pulled the knife out of the earth and made a deep cut along the tiger’s belly. He were good at what he were doing. In next to no time he had skinned that tiger, ripping its skin off in one tremendous yank. He carried the skin to a lean-to round the side of the shack then went back inside as it began to pour down something shocking.

The horse sniffed the shiny skinned body of the tiger and went back to eating grass. Both Becky and I looked at our tigers and hoped that they didn’t know what were happening, but they knew. Their noses were working overtime cos they smelt raw flesh and blood. Their tails were rigid with fright. Come on, said Becky, grabbing