Into That Forest - By Louis Nowra Page 0,23

were filled with honey. Other times I felt me body were a fish. I dreamt with me eyes open about whales. I dreamt with me eyes open about me father living inside a whale and it made me happy. Becky and I hardly said a word to each other. We were beyond words. When we moved round we did it on all fours, like we had become tigers too. I took off me dress and threw it away. I had no use for that, no use for words. Becky and me were in a heaven made of clouds of perfume. The tigers too. We all had the same expressions of bliss and happiness and we all had eyes that were glassy. We were full as a goog with joy.

Once the ambergris were finished, we slept for a couple of days and nights. I were now naked as the day I came into the world and Becky seeing me so carefree took off her dress and threw it away. It were a big thing for her to do but the dress were ragged and torn. She still wore her underclothes and put the cameo inside them so she wouldn’t lose it. One late afternoon when we were back to our real selves, and it were time to go, we set off the way we had come, avoiding the tiger man, and heading back to the den. It became colder on our journey home, but the lair were warm, especially after we followed the example of the tigers, who ripped off fern fronds and put them on the floor. Becky took off her filthy underclothes and wrapped the cameo in them and put it in the corner of the den cos it were precious to her. I think in becoming naked it made her even more determined not to lose her language and she’d sing, tell stories from the Bible or recite poems, not caring if we listened or not. The deepest part of her were fighting real hard not to become an animal.

Winter is cruel. It’s like having your bare bum whipped with a switch every day. It’s a constant sting, especially in your stomach. We were in ferny country so there were still animals ’bout, but not as many. Cos we wore no clothes we covered ourselves with mud from the creek. The wind didn’t cut us half as bad then. When snow fell we just stayed in our lair, snuggled up, snoozing all the time. Sometimes when we were really desperate for food we’d find a dead devil, but the flesh were rank and some of it would not stay down in our throat and it would come up again, but it were warm by then so we chewed it again and it were easier to swallow warm gunk. We went after wombat babies cos the mother and father were away hunting for their food. The tigers digged out the opening then Becky and I would attack the hole with sticks, digging deeper and deeper til we found the wombat pups. They were good nights. But in the real dark cold part of winter there were no food.

One evening as we looked out on the deep snow and shivered we knew it would be bad hunting. All our usual prey were in their burrows or dens. The world outside were empty of life. Our stomachs were full-bore empty too. Becky said she had an idea. So the three of us followed her through the ferny country, through the gum tree forest and into the scrub. We were still walking hours later when the sick sun came up.

We stopped on top of a hill and me heart started to beat like it were an animal trying to escape from me ribcage. This were where the evil tiger man lived. The tigers were frightened too; I could see by their stiff tails. I were clutching Becky’s muddy arm and saying, No, no, no. I didn’t want to give meself up to the man cos he skinned the tigers. She looked at me hard - oh dear, I remember that look so well, it were branded on me brain. It said I were stupid and silly and weak. She dragged me up to the top of the slope. The horse were still there, its blanket covered in snow - it looked white like a unicorn in me picture book. There were no smoke coming from the chimney so the fella might have