The Crocodile Nest (12 page)

Lora and Luke were sitting on the back of Chizza’s glorious truck. Behind was a massive ten-metre boat, almost as new as the vehicle. In front were Chizza, Ham, Beth and Andy.

Beth was quizzing Andy about crocodiles and what they would see. Unfortunately, only snippets of the answers could be heard from the back, and Luke had to imagine half of what was being said. He gathered that they were likely to see more crocs at night than in the daytime, as that was their preferred feeding time. Also, at this time of the year, they went into the water to maintain body temperature during the cooler hours. In the years before crocs were protected, spotlighting had been one of the main ways of hunting them down.

Lora must have heard this last part, for she nudged Luke and said, ‘At least there won’t be a gun around this time for you to shoot me.’

‘I didn’t shoot you last time,’ replied Luke, pretending to be
upset by her accusation. Actually, he was thrilled that she was even talking to him.

She gave him another nudge. ‘Not because you didn’t try.’

‘So long as we stop Beth from driving the boat, we’ll be all right.’

Lora giggled. ‘If she got the chance to drive, she’d tip Chizza out. She’s real mad at him for stealing her money.’

Luke looked at her sharply. ‘Did you tell her?’

‘Of course!’

‘Everything?’

Lora gave a little nod. ‘I was so mad at you, I wanted her to go to the police or at least talk to Ham. She said it was probably best to wait. That you must have a good reason for holding off.’

After processing this, Luke told her about his email to Brian.

‘Good!’ she said. ‘So we can contact the police tomorrow?’

‘Yes,’ replied Luke. ‘After I’ve had a talk to Ham.’

Soon afterwards, they turned off the main road onto a gravel track which bounced them around too much to talk. For a couple of kilometres they travelled parallel to the creek, getting glimpses of the water through the mangroves. To Luke it looked more like a wide river than a creek.

Eventually, they reached a spot with a gap through the trees just wide enough to launch the boat. Even then it was tricky getting into the water, as the tide had exposed a strip of mudflat. Chizza’s truck ended up splattered with great dollops of mud.

It was dark by the time the motor was started and they began cruising downstream. The only light was a single small bulb that lit the wheel area.

‘You better keep to the side,’ suggested Andy. ‘There are sandbanks in the middle around here.’

‘I have done this many times,’ replied Chizza. ‘I never get stuck before.’

‘You’d be better off going upstream—that’s where the crocs will be.’

‘They are down here as well. I have seen them.’

‘Just trying to help,’ said Andy. ‘I know this creek better than you.’

‘Nice boat,’ put in Beth.

‘Thank you,’ replied Chizza, happy for the change in topic.

‘Must’ve cost more than twenty thousand dollars.’

Chizza gave her a puzzled look. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Oh,’ said Beth, sweetly, ‘it was just a figure that came into my head.’

‘It cost eighty thousand dollars,’ said Chizza.

‘Oooo!’ said Beth, as if impressed. ‘That’s
four
lots of twenty thousand dollars. That’s a lot of work on computers. You have been busy, haven’t you?’

Luke felt a pit form in his stomach. Next thing she’d be accusing the man outright. This was no place for a showdown, not if there were crocodiles out there.

Ham must have been getting worried, too, for he broke in: ‘Time to get the spotlight out, eh, Chizza?’

Chizza studied Beth for a few seconds, before saying, ‘Yes. Let us see what we can see.’

Ham opened a locker, removed the spotlight, and began to mount it on a support near the wheel. Meanwhile, Chizza
opened another locker and removed a rifle, which he placed on a shelf within arm’s reach.

Lora saw it and gave a little gasp.

‘You won’t need that thing,’ said Andy, slowly.

‘I hope not,’ replied Chizza, just as slowly. ‘But it is better to be prepared, do you not think?’

Andy didn’t get the chance to reply before the spotlight came on, blinding them all.

‘Sorry!’ said Ham, swinging the beam around onto the water.

Immediately all eyes followed the beam, searching for the first hint of a red reflection. Ham scanned the beam across the water, towards the mangroves which lined the creek in a wall of roots and branches.

There was nothing. No reflection, no dark shapes, no movement. Then the light caught something. It was in the water, drifting along like a log. Chizza eased the boat closer until it was right alongside, and they could see it in detail. It was just what it looked like—a log.

Shortly afterwards, they got to the mouth of the river where Andy said, ‘I told you we should’ve gone upstream.’

Chizza suddenly stepped away from the wheel. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘you take the thing since you know so much. You find us the crocodiles.’

‘OK,’ said Andy, with a satisfied smile. ‘Thanks for the offer, mate.’

He spun the wheel, executing a smooth U-turn. When they were back on a straight path, he said, ‘The crocs’ll be further upstream, because that’ll be where the tucker is.’

‘What would they feed on at night?’ asked Beth.

‘Fish mostly. Barra, bream, grunters, tarpon, you name it. There’s a lot of fish in these estuaries.’

‘What about kangaroos and wallabies?’ asked Luke, who had visions of crocodiles dragging big animals into the water.

‘Not in the mangroves. Freshies might take animals when they come to the water to drink. But the salties around here don’t get any chance at that.’

‘Don’t they take anything from the land?’

‘Yeah—crabs, birds, rats, injured flying foxes, maybe even a bandicoot.’

‘Humans?’ suggested Lora.

‘Geez, mate,’ said Andy, shaking his head, ‘the only thing you tourists seem to be interested in is man-eating crocodiles! Sure, a big one will attack a human if somebody’s crazy enough to move into their territory. But humans are not part of their regular diet. Same thing goes for cattle. You’ve got to remember that crocs were here a long time before we were. They were around before there were
any
mammals. They survived for millions of years on fish, birds and other reptiles, and they can survive on them still.’ He considered that for a few seconds, before adding, ‘That’s as long as we leave enough of those things around. If we cut down the rainforest, or pollute the waters with mining, then we destroy their food sources. That’s when you’re likely to see the crocs change their behaviour. But around here, if people are sensible, then they’re not a problem.’

As everyone thought about this, the boat cruised past the launching place, heading into the higher reaches of the estuary.

Andy throttled the engine back until it was quietly ticking over. Ham resumed scanning with the spotlight. Straightaway they got a response: two red lights shining out of a bulge in the water. Andy turned off the engine and let the boat drift by the creature.

Luke looked at his first crocodile viewed without bars, and was disappointed. There was little to see except for the two eyes. And it was small, almost tiny compared with the ones he’d seen in the tropical zoo. There was no way that this thing could attack a human, or even a bandicoot.

As if reading his thoughts, Andy said, ‘That’s about the usual size of croc you see at nights. There are many more small ones than giants. In the middle of the day, the little ones can hide amongst the mangrove roots and you only see the big ones. Tourists get the idea that all crocs are big—they aren’t. It takes about fifty years to grow to five metres.’

Andy restarted the motor. From there on, they saw plenty more crocodiles, all of them small. Then they passed a tree, larger than the others, with branches forming an umbrella over the water. Roosting in the branches were twenty or so large white birds.

‘Egrets,’ said Andy. ‘During the day you see them feeding all around this estuary.’

‘Do the crocodiles eat them?’ asked Luke.

‘Too right!’ replied Andy. ‘If they get the chance.’ He looked up at the birds in the tree. ‘They’re mostly all right up there. The only thing that might get them is the green python, and there’s not too many of those around here.’

A little further on, the river split into two. Andy said it was an
island, the first of several in the upper estuary. He kept the boat quietly cruising close to the shore, and soon they were rewarded with a view of a much larger croc. It was lying on a shelf formed by the roots of the mangroves; it looked like a permanent home. Clearly the reptile knew it was being watched, for its head moved to follow the light as they drifted by. Yet it didn’t seem worried about them, even when they moved in closer.

This was what Luke had been hoping to see: a decent-sized crocodile at close quarters. He wondered what would happen if someone on the boat was to fall into the water. Would the croc continue to be so relaxed? He doubted it. There was something about the look of the animal that suggested it was alert in a dangerous way. He imagined it slipping quietly into the water at the first hint of an easy meal.

Chizza must have been thinking much the same thing, for he picked up the rifle and pulled back on the cocking lever.

‘Don’t you dare shoot at it,’ snarled Andy.

Chizza didn’t reply. Instead, he raised the rifle to his shoulder.

‘Chizza!’ called Ham, urgently.

‘OK, OK!’ said Chizza, lowering the rifle. ‘I was just taking a closer look.’

For a time they travelled in silence, until Andy throttled back and let the boat drift into the shore. ‘Shine the light in there,’ he said to Ham.

Ham did so.

‘Bit to the left. Yeah! There! See it?’

In a small clearing there was a pile of dead leaves and branches, looking like a gardener’s compost heap. It was a croc’s nest.

‘That nest was used a couple of years back. I wouldn’t get this close if it was the wet season and it was still in use.’

‘Would the female still be around here somewhere?’ asked Beth.

Andy shrugged. ‘Who knows? Probably not, seeing she hasn’t nested here for a couple of years.’

‘Where’s Crazy Hazel’s nest?’ asked Luke.

‘Not far from here, on a little island she calls her own.’

‘Crazy Hazel?’ asked Beth. ‘How’d she get that name?’

So once again Andy had to give the full explanation.

When he’d finished, Lora asked. ‘Can we go and see her?’

‘No!’ replied Andy, firmly. ‘It’s best if we leave her alone.’

‘What if I say we go?’ said Chizza, glaring at him menacingly.

Andy glared back at him. ‘We still don’t go.’

‘I am the captain of this boat.’

‘You might be, but I know the difference between right and wrong.’

Luke became very much aware of the loaded rifle that Chizza was holding. It seemed to be pointing near Andy’s feet. It only had to be lifted a little and…

The tense standoff lasted a few moments longer, before the roar of trail bikes startled everyone. Luke looked to the bank of the creek and saw two lights flashing quickly between the trees.

‘Are they in the mangroves?’ asked Beth.

‘No,’ said Andy, ‘they’re on the track we came in on. The mangroves are not very thick just here.’ He paused. ‘We might as well go back now: those hoons will have scared all the crocs for miles.’

Chizza said nothing as Andy spun the wheel and gave the motor a bit more throttle. The sound of the trail bikes drifted away, until the only sound was the idling outboard.

As they passed the egret tree, Andy turned off the motor and let the boat drift closer than before. Under the spotlight, heads popped up and glared down at the intruders, their eyes glowing bright orange.

‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ said Lora in a hushed voice.

‘They’re the great egret,’ said Andy, just as quietly. ‘One of our most common.’

Luke started to ask why so many Aussie things were called ‘great’, when the sound of a shot blasted his ears. The colony of birds erupted in a roar of raucous calls as the birds took flight. Wings beat without any sense other than the panic to get away. They bashed into each other and snagged on branches. Clearly they couldn’t see where they were going.

Seconds later all except for three were gone. One had collapsed on a branch with its perfect, white feathers now stained red with blood. A wing flapped vainly, showing that there was still some life left, or maybe it was just the final motions of death. Two others were caught in the upper branches, struggling to free themselves.

As Luke watched, the bloody one became more active, dislodging itself so that it fell into the water.

‘Now, let us see what will happen,’ said Chizza, gleefully. ‘Maybe there will be some action now.’ He was still holding the rifle as if he was going to fire another shot, this one at anything that might rise to take the egret.

‘You bloody mongrel,’ snarled Andy. ‘What did you do that for?’

Chizza gave a sneering smile without taking his eyes off the bird in the water. ‘One of them did a shit on me once.’

Andy looked away in disgust.

The boat and the bird drifted downstream on the outgoing tide, with only a few metres separating them. There still seemed to be some life in the bird, for every so often a wing would move. Luke couldn’t drag his eyes away, sensing that something dramatic was about to happen.

The seconds dragged into minutes, with everyone staring at the bird. Nobody dared to speak. Then a swirl formed in the water some distance behind it. The swirl began to form a wake before suddenly a pair of open jaws came up out of the water. They engulfed the bird and closed with a snap. Almost immediately, the crocodile’s head rose vertically and opened again. Twice more the jaws snapped shut. After a couple of small chomps to clear any remaining bits, the crocodile lowered its head to look directly at the light, before disappearing into the water as silently as it had appeared.

Chizza let out a whoop of delight. ‘There!’ he yelled. ‘That is the way to see crocodiles. Give them something to eat and they will come to you.’