Forest Spirit (12 page)

Jim Kelly came out of his tent. He ran a hand through his hair and walked over to where Snook and Jars were coaxing the fire into life. ‘Morning, you two. Ready for some breakfast?'

Jars waved some smoke away from her eyes then turned to her uncle. ‘I found some footprints in the camp this morning that don't belong to us.'

‘Footprints? How do you know they're not ours?'

‘I just know. They were made by two people, both wearing heavy boots. One set of prints goes deeper into the ground than the other, so I'd say one of the two was big. I also heard some strange sounds last night. I thought it might have been some wild animals. But now I'm not so sure.'

Jim frowned. ‘Okay, you'd better show me.'

Jars, followed by Snook and her uncle, led the way. ‘There,' she said, pointing to the prints.

Jim bent over, peering at the ground. ‘Darned if I can see anything. Are you sure you're not just imagining things, Jars?'

She shook her head. ‘No, they're there, but you're looking from the wrong angle. The sun has to be behind you.'

Changing position, he bent over once again, nodding. ‘Yes, I see them. You're right. It looks like we did have a visitor last night.'

Snook looked over his shoulder at the forest. ‘Two visitors,' he reminded his father. ‘There were two of them.'

Snook's dad walked slowly back to the fire, rubbing his chin, as though thinking. ‘What time of night did you hear noises, Jars?'

‘I'm not sure, but it was late.'

‘That's strange. Why on earth would anyone be prowling around here at that time of night?'

‘Don't forget the lights we saw last night, Dad,' Snook said. ‘Whoever was wandering around in the forest was more than likely our visitors.'

His dad thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I think you're right. There's not much we can do about it though, except let Reg Carter know. Now go and fetch Quenton, wherever he is.'

SignaIling that the subject was closed, he tousled Snook's hair. ‘Tell him breakfast will soon be on the go.'

‘There's one thing for sure,' Snook added. ‘I don't think we should spend another night out here.' He prodded Jars on the arm. ‘What do you reckon? Makes you feel a bit uneasy, don't it?'

‘It's another mystery, Snook. One we can do without, I think.'

Snook's dad interrupted. ‘Let's not worry too much about it though. We'll get out of here straight after breakfast. We'll take everything with us. It won't take long to pack up.'

Quenton, who had been peering at them from behind the tent, made a beeline for Jim, who had gone to collect some food from the esky.

After a short while, Jim, arms laden with bread, eggs and bacon, walked over and placed the food on an old card table. Quenton was with him.

He straightened and called out to Snook and Jars, who were placing a steel hotplate on the fire, which was now glowing with red embers. ‘Snook, go and get the butter and some oil for the barbeque plate. And Jars, you come with me.' He walked some distance from the fire, then turned and faced her.

Jars knew something was wrong. Her uncle's cheeks had turned to a crimson colour again; his lips were pressed tightly together and his brow was furrowed. She raised her eyebrows. ‘What's the matter, Uncle Jim?'

Somewhere in the distance, a cockatoo screeched, and smoke drifted across from the fire; it curled around her, stinging her eyes. She couldn't help noticing Quenton. He was looking their way with what looked like a satisfied smile on his lips.

‘We have some things to discuss,' her uncle said, his words clipped.

Jars could hardly believe it; she was in trouble again. She did not know how or why, but she suspected Quenton Quigley somehow had a hand in it. As her uncle started to outline her latest ‘misdoing', she knew she had guessed correctly.

Afterwards, she returned to where Snook was busy frying the eggs and making toast. He stopped what he was doing when he saw her arrive. ‘What's the matter now? Don't tell me you got another telling off?'

Jars sat on a nearby log. ‘Yes, I did.'

Snook shrugged, then carried on with his cooking.

She wiped her eyes, watching Snook at work, still hearing her uncle's words. ‘It's not good enough. First, you go wandering off … and now you play a stupid trick on Quenton with a lizard, for goodness sake. So, you just listen to me young lady. Your aunt and I have given you a new home, a new beginning for that matter, and we expect you to toe the line. We certainly do not expect the behaviour you have displayed so far, so …'

Quenton sidled over towards Snook and took out some bread from its plastic bag. ‘I'll help you. I'll finish making the toast. I'm good at that.'

Jars watched them. So, she thought, Quenton's done it again. Made me look bad. But why? Sighing, she pushed herself up from the log. Why does he do this? What have I done to him?

Jim returned to the fire. He grabbed a plate and squatted next to Snook and Quenton. Quenton handed him some toast then flipped an egg onto his plate. He beamed. ‘Good job, boys.' He glanced towards Jars, then turned his back and walked over to a log, where he sat and ate his breakfast.

Afterwards, he called out to Jars, who was standing alone, away from the group. ‘You can wash up and put everything away. The boys have done all the work so far. Now it's your turn.'

Jars picked up the plastic water bucket and headed towards the lake. On the way, she could not help thinking about what Tom used to say back at the cattle station. What goes around comes around. It was true. One day Quenton Quigley would really get what was coming to him. And it would be from his own actions. Not hers. Maybe that karma thing would come to punish Quenton once again. She tightened her grip on the bucket and continued to make her way towards the lake.

The car would not start.

Jim KeIly thumped the steering wheel. ‘Damn!' He flicked the interior bonnet switch and opened the car door, then, before sliding out, caIled over his shoulder. ‘You lot might as well get out too while I see what's wrong.'

Snook was the first to do so. ‘Does this mean we're not going to town?' he asked his father.

Ignoring Snook, Jim collected a toolbox from the back of the car then buried his head under the bonnet. Jars and Quenton joined Snook and stood, watching.

Quenton grabbed Snook's arm. ‘I – I don't like this. What if we're stranded here? What if …?'

Snook shook free. ‘Put a sock in it. Dad will get it fixed.'

‘I don't know about that.' Jim extracted himself from under the bonnet. ‘It seems you were right. Our visitors last night certainly didn't have friendly intentions.' He held up the end of the fuel line.

‘Why? What do you mean?' Snook asked.

‘I mean we've been sabotaged. Someone's put water in the fuel.'

Snook cringed at the anger in his father's voice. Quenton, who had taken an involuntary step backwards, began to blubber. ‘I knew it. Now we're stuck here. I should never have come on this trip. I should have …'

Jars interrupted. ‘Quenton, calm down. My uncle will know what to do.'

Jim Kelly joined in. ‘Keep quiet, you three; I need to think. I need to figure out how to get us out of this mess.'

Shadow, who had been sitting next to Jars, tilted his head to one side and raised his eyes, as though curious at the goings on. Jars ruffled his ears. She was thinking about the lights, the footprints, the feeling of being watched after she had left the cave yesterday. And now this … sabotage. She frowned, not liking what she now knew to be true. All of these incidents had to be related. Someone, for whatever the reason, did not want them to leave the camp. She clenched her hands, feeling the bite of her fingernails digging into her palms.

Quenton, desperation in his voice, looked from one to the other. ‘W-we could phone someone.'

Snook threw his hands in the air. ‘Mobiles don't work out here. Didn't you hear the ranger tell us that?'

‘Okay, okay, that's enough,' Snook's father said, butting in, ‘bickering won't get us anywhere. Now, here's what we're going to do.'

When Jim had finished outlining his plan, Quenton, almost sobbing now, was the first to respond. ‘What? Leave us out here? On our own?'

‘Look, someone has to get to town. We need fresh fuel to get this started.' He slammed the bonnet down. ‘There's no choice. I'll have to walk into town. I'd say it's about a twenty kilometre walk.'

‘We could all walk, right Jars?' Snook said.

‘Not me,' Quenton butted in, ‘it's way too far.'

‘That's what I thought,' Jim agreed. ‘You'd never make it. I don't like doing it one little bit, but there's no option. You'll have to stay here.'

‘No,' Quenton sobbed, ‘I don't want to do that either. Those people out there might be dangerous.'

Snook grinned and looked at his dad. ‘Don't take any notice of him. We'll be okay. It's broad daylight and we have Shadow. No bad guys are gonna bother us.' His face suddenly grew serious. ‘But it's a long walk back into town. Reckon you'll make it?'

Jim Kelly looked at the sky. It didn't look like rain. ‘There's no problem on that score, and who knows, I might get lucky and get a lift from someone. I must admit though, I'm not thrilled at having to leave you on your own.' He waved an arm in the direction of the forest. ‘The intention of those people, whoever they are, was to keep us here. For some reason they don't want us talking to anyone. That much is clear. They're up to something shady, that's for sure, and whatever it is, they want to keep it to themselves. As long as they think their secret is safe, they won't bother us.'

‘Are – are you sure?' Quenton managed to splutter.

‘Yes, Quenton, I'm sure, but make sure you three stay put and stick together.'

He slapped the side of the car. ‘Fresh fuel is what this old girl needs, so the sooner I can get that into her the better. Before I leave I want you all to promise me one thing.'

Snook raised his eyebrows. ‘What's that, Dad?'

‘Remember what I said before – do not leave the campsite under any circumstances, and stick together.'

Jars shifted from one foot to the other. She squirmed. Her uncle's eyes were fixed on her. It was obvious. His words were meant for her ears alone.

Hector Grimshaw came from behind a shrub. He nudged Arnie. ‘It worked. They won't be going anywhere for a while. All we have to do now is keep out of sight. If they happen to find out what we're doing out here, they won't be able to tell anybody.'

‘Um, you mean if they find our, ah, cages? Will they find our other things, Hector? Them places that birds like. Um, avi … avi …'

Hector helped him out. ‘Yeah, yeah, aviaries. We trap them then put 'em in the aviaries to keep them nice and safe till they're ready to be moved to their new home. That's what we're gonna do tonight – as soon as Evelyn arrives.'

‘How we going to do that? Do we got to take all the avi … avi …'

Hector interrupted again. ‘Look, I've told you a hundred times. We transfer them into the small cages we brought earlier, then we load them onto the boat. After that, we take them to the man who's going to ship them to Victoria.'

‘Um, what happens then, Hector? What happens to the birds?'

‘We sell them – I mean, we take the birds to their new home.'

Arnie thought for a while. ‘I get it,' he said eventually. ‘They'l like it there, in their new place. Won't they, Hector?'

By way of answer, Hector slid a long-bladed knife from his belt. He tested the cutting edge with his thumb. ‘And if they try anything … that man and those brats. If they stick their noses where they're not wanted … well, I know just what to do.' An insane cackle escaped from his throat as he replaced the knife.

Arnie, who had been crouching behind a bush watching Jim Kelly's attempts to start the vehicle, lumbered to his feet, a quizzical look on his face. ‘What we're doing – it's good isn't it? We're saving all them birds. That's right, isn't it?'