Into That Forest - By Louis Nowra Page 0,24

been sleeping or away hunting tigers, I didn’t know. There, said Becky pointing to a dozen sheep dozing under a gum tree. I knew right then, like being whacked over the head with a piece of ironwood that the sheep were our food. So did the tigers. There were no words said. We all knew we had to do this quickly and quietly. And we knew our part in the hunt.

The tigers ran in a wide arc so they could be behind the sheep while Becky and I herded them. We knew they would turn tail and run. Once we seen the tigers had cut off the sheep’s escape route we ran straight at them. It were only later that I realised I were on all fours. It seemed more natural. We were so good at hunting, and so silent, that we were practically on the sheep before they realised. They tried to flee, but they went straight into the jaws of Dave and Corinna, who ripped the throats of two of the sheep while the others escaped. The horse were afeared and tried to get away but it were tied to a tree. We stood there, the dead sheep at our feet, panting and listening hard to any movement inside the shack. But there were none. I wanted to eat the sheep then and there and so did the tigers, but Becky said no. She were very quiet and forceful. She grabbed a sheep by the legs and told me to do the same. We dragged those two creatures from the back yard up the slope and boy it were hard yakka, let me tell you. It were easier going down the slope into a hiding place deep in a forest of peppermint gums, where we ate with a fury only the truly hungry could understand. Then Becky and me took turns carrying the remains of the sheep back to the den.

We became full of life and Becky and I didn’t feel the cold quite as bad. The tigers started the habit of going off by themselves, not wanting us to come. It were strange behaviour and I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. Then one day, as the sun were setting, Becky were outside when she called to me. I crawled out of the lair and seen what she were seeing. Dave were mounting Corinna in a clearing covered with snow. I had seen this sort of thing with me pigs. I knew they were making babies and so did Becky. I were troubled. Not by what they were doing, but what it meant for Becky and me.

Near the end of winter we ran out of food again so we went back to the bounty hunter’s place. We killed two more sheep. After we gorged ourselves til late morning in our hideaway in the forest of gum trees, Becky got it in her head to go back to the shack. There were no smoke coming from the chimney, there were no horse and there were no sign of the tiger man. I followed her, trembling a little cos I was worried he would spot us, but she had purpose on her mind.

We snuck round to the front of the shack and peered into the window. The house seemed empty. We pushed open the front door and stood there in the doorway. Me fear was so bad that I felt meself leaking, a warm trickle running down the inside of me legs. Becky stood there for a time listening, and let me tell you, our hearing were extra good now. I could hear the footsteps of a dunnart on dead leaves a hundred yards away, and know that a low growl were a wombat and a solitary crunch sound were a quoll crushing a rabbit’s skull with a bite to the back of the neck. And our eyes, our eyes could see way deep into the darkness and recognise the shape of a pademelon or pygmy possum hiding in a night tree. Becky heard nothing. She looked at me, I heard nothing too, so we stepped inside.

It were such a long, long time since we had been inside a house. It were really only a shack, but it seemed enormous to us. I think Becky were just curious, curious to know what sort of life she had left behind. She sat on the only chair while I touched the ashes of the fire. They were cold, so I