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Authors: Christopher Russell

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21
Trapped and Lost

Alice was trying her Oscar-winning act again but she wasn't getting any awards. She'd been taken into an office inside the cricket ground and was being severely told off by the Head of Security. There were rules against field invading.

“I'm sooo sorry,” simpered Alice.

And rules against kissing batsmen.

“It was very naughty of me,” she sobbed.

And then there were the sheep.

“They're not mine,” cried Alice in sudden alarm.

“Really?” said the Head of Security. He obviously didn't believe her. “Well, you'll still have to sit here until they've been rounded up.”

“No!” Alice jumped to her feet and dashed toward the door.

The Head of Security stepped in front of her and she pushed him over. That was a big mistake.

Deidre was outside the door. It opened and the Head of Security appeared briefly.

“Don't bother waiting,” he said. “We'll be filling in paperwork all night.”

Then the door slammed again.

Shelly was striding down the corridor toward Deidre.

“Are we good to go?” she asked.

“Er, no,” said Deidre. “I think Miss Barton's been arrested.”

“Shame,” said Shelly, trying not to laugh. “Come and say hello to Norman anyway. I've just been down to the quayside and loaded up.”

The cricket ground parking lot was emptying fast now. Bad light had stopped play for the day. A dented, dusty, tangerine-orange truck was standing on its own on the tarmac.

“Norm,” said Shelly, “this is Deidre.”

Deidre giggled. “He's even worse than the last one,”

“What? Smaller…” said Shelly. “I'll grant you that. He's smaller than Trevor. But look on the bright side. You won't have to share him with the luggage. That's nicely packed in Normette.”

“Normette?”

Shelly nodded at the small two-wheeled trailer attached to the back of the truck.

“It looks like a baked-bean can on wheels,” said Deidre. “Is all Miss Barton's precious stuff in
that
?”

Shelly nodded. “Safe as the Bank of Australia.”

There was a narrow door at the end of the rusty metal tube on wheels. She patted its broken plastic handle and the whole door came off in her hand.

“Oops. It's always doing that…” Shelly propped the door back in place. “No dramas. Only needs a bit of string.” She rummaged in her pocket and found some.

While Shelly tied the door back together, Deidre checked her laptop.

“The next challenge has come through,” she called. “And hey—it's the very last one! We have to get to a place called Lonely Flats.”

“Better go and buy some supplies, then,” grunted Shelly.

“Supplies?”

“Food, water, toilet paper…Lonely Flats is way out in the Outback. No corner shops out there.” Shelly tugged the door string to test it. “Not even any corners.”

• • •

While Alice was trapped inside the cricket ground, the warriors were getting lost in the side streets of Brisbane. They'd escaped from the ground through the nearest exit and kept on running until they were out of breath. They were still very confused. Wills had explained again that maiden overs weren't the same thing as maidens in distress and the others
thought
they understood. But if he was right, why had the fairy godtingy run onto the grass? And why had the men chased her? And where was she now?

“Maybe we should get back to the cricket ground,” said Wills. “And look for her there?”

“What?” said Jaycey. “And get chased by those horrid men again?”

“Nice grass though,” said Oxo, losing his battle to keep it out of his mind.

“This is not about grass, Oxo,” said Sal, giving him one of her looks. “It is about Destiny.” She turned to Wills. “Which way do we go, dear?”

Wills gazed around at the maze of roads and buildings. He looked up at the sky but there was no help there. The sun had gone behind clouds. He swallowed hard. He had no idea.

22
No Reply

Wills…? Oxo…? Jaycey…?”

Tod was getting hoarse and so was Ida. They'd been chasing around Brisbane for hours. Calling, whistling, searching, stopping passersby to ask if anyone had seen a small flock of sheep. There had, in fact, been several sightings near the cricket ground, but nobody knew where they'd gone after that.

Finally, exhausted and hungry, Tod and Ida went to a police station and reported their rare breeds missing. Then they trudged to the little hotel where they were staying the night. “Boy, has that Rose got some explaining to do,” growled Ida.

Rose was ready when the call came.

It was extremely early, only just light in Murkton-on-Sea but she was already up and eager. She even spoke first.

“Hello, Ida. How's Brisbane? Hang on a minute…” She was trying to sound casual as she bustled outdoors, carrying her laptop. She took it into the field and set it on the grass, making sure the little camera was pointing in the right direction. A few seconds later, thousands of miles away in Brisbane, the screen on the hotel computer was showing five assorted sheep, grazing in the gray morning light.

“There,” said Rose. “Now, you can say hello to your lovely rare breeds.”

Tod and Ida stared at their screen without speaking. The silence was a long one.

Rose began to panic. “Um…I know Links isn't looking quite as curly as usual,” she said quickly. “But don't worry—it's only the damp weather.”

“Is it?” said Ida, trying to stay calm. “And what about Sal? Why's she looking so thin?”

“Thin?” Rose gulped hard. “She's not thin. Just…not so fat.”

“And Jaycey?” Ida was sounding less calm now. “What are those brown blobs all over her fleece?”

“Um…” Rose's voice rose to a dry squeak. “Mud! Yes—she got splashed with mud.”

Ida's patience snapped. “I think you mean paint!” She drew a deep breath. “Rose. They are
not
our sheep!”

“Don't be silly, Ida. Of course—”


Rose!
Our sheep are
here
. In Brisbane!”

“They're what?”

“They're here. I don't know how, but they are. And now we've lost them again. So you can stop pretending.”

The long silence was at the other end now. It was broken by a sniff before Rose spoke in a tiny voice.

“Oh, Ida, I'm so sorry…” The sniff became a full-scale blub.

Ida finally forgave Rose, and in Murkton, Rose finally stopped crying. Both said sorry several times and Tod told them both that everything would be all right. Finally, he logged off from the hotel computer and he and Gran went up to their room. They ate a few leftover sandwiches for supper.

“I think we should phone Uncle Frank before we go to bed,” Tod said. “He'll worry if he doesn't hear from us.”

So they did. But the phone at Barton's Billabong just rang and rang.

“I expect he's already asleep,” said Gran. But they both knew that Frank never went to bed early. That he would be waiting for their call…

• • •

Tod and Ida woke early next morning. They hadn't slept well. They phoned the police station but nobody had handed in a flock of sheep. They phoned Frank again, but still he didn't answer. Ida chewed her lip, then made a decision.

“We need to get back to the Billabong,” she said. “Your Uncle Frank might be ill. And he's more important than the sheep.”

Tod swallowed hard but nodded. He knew she was right.

23
Boomer and Jaz

The warriors were completely lost. While Tod and Ida were tossing and turning in their hotel room and Alice was locked in the cricket ground, the sheep had continued to wander, far beyond the suburbs of Brisbane. Still straining their eyes for a sight of their fairy godtingy, and their ears for the sobbing and sighing of Tuftella.

Now, they were in open countryside dotted with trees, and there was food at last, of a kind. Oxo spotted it first.

“Comfort stop,” he called, and rumbled wearily toward the patch of rough, prickly grass amid the trees.

The other sheep followed, got their heads down, and munched hungrily. Nobody complained that the stuff was dry and tasteless.

And nobody noticed that they were being watched. Until Jaycey looked up and squealed.

“Ohmygrass…! Looklooklook…”

The others looked. And saw the strangest bunch of creatures staring back at them from across the clearing. Eight or nine of them. They seemed to be mostly made up of feet. And tail. Their tails were so thick and long, they were leaning back on them. Their short, sleek, grayish brown fur gleamed in the dawn sunshine. And one of the females had a little joey peeping from her pocket.

“Kangaroos!” Wills was so excited he forgot about being worried.

“Kangawhat?” asked Oxo.

“Kangaroos. You remember. The Chosen Few on the ship told us about them.”

The largest male hopped forward and spoke.

“G'day. You guys just passing through?”

“Yeah,” replied Oxo, drawing himself up, ready for trouble. “Just passing through. What of it?”

The kangaroo leaned back. “Nothing. You look lost, that's all.” His voice had become slightly cooler.

“Lost? Not me, mate,” growled Oxo.

Sal edged in front of him before he could start a fight. “But we
are
a long way from home,” she said, and held up a front hoof. “From Eppingham, in fact.”

The kangaroo looked surprised, but leaned down and touched her hoof with his small front paw.

“Eppingham? That would be near…Sydney?” he guessed.

It was Sal's turn to look surprised. “Er…” she turned to Wills. “Is it, dear?”

Wills was still bouncing with excitement at meeting kangaroos. “No,” he laughed. “It's in England.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Sal.

One of the young females tossed her head. “You're fibberooing,” she said. “We get busloads of tourists from England and none of them look like you.”

The joey piped up, “Are they the ones that go bright red in the sun?”

“Lots of them do, yes, dear,” said his mother.

“I'm not fibberooing,” said Wills, slightly hurt. “And we're not tourists. We're on a mission.” He glanced sideways at Oxo, not wanting to upset him. “And, er, we would appreciate some directions.”

Sal took over again. “That's quite right,” she said solemnly. “We have been called by the ancient Songs of the Fleece.”

The joey giggled and his mother tapped his head. “Shhh…”

“To save poor, sweet Tuftella,” continued Sal. “The fairest ewe of all. We believe she's held captive in Maiden Tower. Have you by chance heard of such a place?”

The kangaroos looked at each other.

“Yeah,” said another of the females. “We know where you're talking about.”

“We do?” said the big male.

“Well, you should, Boomer, y'big banana,” said the female. “It's where they took you when your mum died.”

“Oh, right…” said Boomer. “Y'mean Barton's Billabong?”

“Right,” said the female. “The sticky-up bit in the water's called Maiden Tower.”

“I wouldn't know,” said Boomer. “I spent all my time there in a pillowcase.”

“Is it far from here?” inquired Sal excitedly.

“And does it have snapping monsters?” asked Oxo.

“Yeah, gotta have snappin' monsters, man,” said Links.

“Maybe,” said Boomer. “I only met koalas and possums. But is it far? Yeah, the Billabong's a heck of a stretch from here.”

“We could take 'em as far as Lonely Flats,” suggested the female. “Point 'em in the right direction from there.”

Boomer nodded. “We could do that, Jaz. Yeah…”

“Well, what're you waiting for then, y'big banana?” asked Jaz. “Lead the way.”

“Right,” said Boomer. “Right.” And he turned and thrust off with his powerful hind legs. Just one bound took him half the length of a soccer field. He turned and looked back. “You coming or what?” he called.

The warriors gulped and galloped after him, with Jaz and the rest of the kangaroos for company.

“This is so wonderfully kind of you,” gasped Sal. “We've lost our fairy godtingy, you see.”

“Crazy Brits,” squeaked the joey.

His mother tapped his head again, a bit more sharply this time.

24
The Bunyip

Back in Brisbane, Alice had been released with several warnings.

“Crazy Brits,” muttered the Head of Security as he set her loose on the world again.

Deidre and Shelly were waiting. So were Norm and Normette. Alice pretended not to notice their resemblance to rusty baked-bean cans. She'd lost a whole night and was in a hurry.

“The last challenge?” she cried, when Deidre showed her the instructions on the laptop. “Well
done
, poppet.” Then she frowned suspiciously. “So what exactly is Lonely Flats?”

“Start of the Jumpup Trail,” replied Shelly as Norman coughed into life.

“Trail…?” Alice's frown deepened. “Does that imply walking?”

“Not half,” said Shelly. “Miles of the stuff.”

• • •

Lonely Flats turned out to be just that. Lonely. And flat.

As Norman trundled to a halt and Alice climbed stiffly out, a tall, thin man strolled toward her from a long, low building at the side of the dirt road. The only building. Nothingness stretched beyond it. It was almost sunset.

“You're a bit late,” said the man, stretching out his hand. He was wearing jeans and a loose long-sleeved shirt. A baseball cap shaded his dark-skinned face.

Alice managed a smile and shook his hand. “Yes,” she said tersely. “The engine of our so-called vehicle overheated, wouldn't you know. And we had to wait for it to cool down.” She shot an angry glance at Shelly, who was now standing beside the troublesome Norm. “And you are…?”

“The name's Jon,” said the man. “Motte and Bailey were old mates of mine. I promised them I'd get you started safely on the trail.” He pointed into the sunset. “The beginning's marked. You turn off this dirt road about twenty minutes down. From there, it should take you about twelve hours to get to Jumpup Crossing.” He held up a smallish rucksack. “You're supposed to make do with bush tucker. But I'd be happier if you took an emergency food ration. We needn't tell Mr. Creeply.”

“Bush tucker?” Alice was already jolted by the prospect of a twelve-hour walk.

Jon smiled. “Berries, nuts. There's a chart showing which ones are poisonous. If you're lucky, you might catch a lizard or two. And if you're
very
lucky, you might even manage to dig up a few witchetty grubs.”

Alice went paler still. Shelly's grin was as big as a slice of melon.

Jon put down the rucksack and picked up a roll of khaki canvas from beside it. “I think you should take a swag too. Keeps the mossies off, if nothing else.” He flicked his wrist and the canvas unrolled.

Alice stared in horror at the stiff sleeping bag now spread out on the dirt.

“No tent?” she asked faintly.

Shelly was quivering with silent laughter. “No tent,” she chortled. “Just the swag. In the open. Under the stars.”

“The most important thing to remember about using a swag,” said Jon, “is to check before you get into it.” He squatted down and unzipped the side of the canvas bag, then, pulling his shirtsleeve down over his hand, so no skin was left uncovered, he put his arm into the swag and felt around. “Any number of things could have snuck in: spiders—some of them are poisonous. Snakes…”

Alice was rigid.

Jon straightened up and smiled at her again. “It's OK now but if you decide to use it, check again before you get in.”

He helped Alice put on the rucksack, while Shelly re-rolled the swag.

“My advice, though, would be to walk through the night. It's cooler.”

Alice gulped and stared at him.

“You'll be fine.” Jon smiled encouragingly. “That way.” He pointed again.

Alice started walking.

“Watch out for the Bunyip,” Shelly called.

“The what…?” Alice turned.

“The Bunyip. It hangs out in the bush. Especially around creeks and billabongs. A real nasty beast.”

Jon frowned at Shelly.

“Ignore her,” he called. “The Bunyip's just one of our Aboriginal legends. A myth. Like your Loch Ness Monster? And this young lady is very naughty for mentioning it.”

Alice didn't thank Jon for his kind words. She glared at Shelly, then stumbled off under the slight but unfamiliar weight of the rucksack on her back.

“Sorry,” said Shelly. “I shouldn't have said that.” She stood looking guilty for a moment, then grinned. “Any chance of a ginger beer?”

• • •

The humans were still indoors drinking ginger beer when Boomer and Jaz and their mob of kangaroos bounced into Lonely Flats, accompanied by a small flock of panting sheep.

“There y'go,” said Boomer. “The trail shoots through to Jumpup Crossing, and Barton's Billabong is just a coupla bounces away from there.”

“Respect,” said Links. And he led a high hooves and paws with the kangaroos.

“Hey, just watch out for salties,” Boomer called as the kangaroos bounced away. “There's still a few around after the floods.”

“Watch out for what?” asked Oxo, when the kangaroos had disappeared into the bush.

“Er, salties,” said Wills. “I've no idea what they are.”

Sal wasn't listening. She was peering into the distance along the Jumpup Trail. “Is it just my eyes,” she asked in a hushed voice. “Or can I see our fairy godtingy…?”

The warriors stared. It was getting dark, but they could all see a short, plump human plodding away along the track in front of them. The human disappeared round a bend.

“After her!” shouted Oxo.

They'd almost caught up when Links slowed down.

“Not so noisy,” he warned. “
We
don't think we's scary, but 'member how she jumped out of the mud bath ting when she see'd us?”

“How very wise,” said Sal. “It's easy to forget how imposing we rare breeds must look to others. We must not overwhelm her this time…”

They hurried forward again, on tip-hooves, making hardly any sound on the soft, red dirt of the track. Soon, there was only a short gap between themselves and the fairy godtingy.

Alice glanced up. Evening had quickly turned to night. She had never seen so many stars. But she didn't stop to wonder at their beauty. She found the sharp, white starlight even more scary than total darkness, and she jumped every time she saw the smallest shadow on the trail. She walked more quickly.

Then she heard it. A sound like breathing, close behind her. Could it be…? She hesitated, then walked faster still. The sound of breathing stayed right behind her. She told herself to stop panicking. The Bunyip didn't exist. It was a myth. She stopped. The breathing was still close. Very, very close. She turned slowly.

And saw ten yellow eyes staring at her!

“Aaaarggghhh!” Alice screamed loudly, turned, and ran.

“She did it again,” groaned Links. “Even though we's softly softly…”

“Yeah. How are we s'posed to stick to her side if she keeps running away?” asked Oxo.

“Not only
that
,” said Jaycey, before Sal could speak. “If she's supposed to be leading us to tacky Tuftella, how come we haven't heard any sobbing and sighing in
ages
?” She turned and glared at Wills. “Maybe you got it all wrong about the fairy godtingy!”

Wills hung his head. She had a point. As far as he could remember, the fairy godmothers in Tod's books never screamed and ran away. He looked up sadly. “Maybe I did,” he said quietly.

“Ohmygrass!” Jaycey tossed her head. “So now you're saying I've been soaked, bounced, boiled, and baked for
nothing
?”

Sal suddenly stamped a hoof. “Oh, for Aries's sake, Jaycey! Wills was
not
wrong.
And
our fairy godtingy is
leading
us. There is nothing in the Songs of the Fleece that says she has to stop for a chat!”

There was an uncomfortable silence, as there always was when Sal got annoyed.

“Are we going to give up now?” she demanded. “Having traveled so far? Farther than any of our kind have traveled in the history of sheepdom?”

The silence became more uncomfortable still.

“No,” said Sal. “We are not. Onward, rare breeds!”

So onward they went.

• • •

After her first scream, Alice had run until she'd tripped over. And when she'd turned for another fearful look over her shoulder, the Bunyip's yellow eyes were still staring at her. All ten of them. She dived off the trail, stumbled a few paces, then threw her swag in among the knee-high spiky grass. There was nowhere else to hide. She unzipped the swag with trembling fingers, wriggled in feet first, then yanked the zip right up again so that only the very top of her head was showing. She forgot everything Jon had said about checking inside.

• • •

A short while later, the Warrior Sheep trotted by. They didn't notice the long, browny-green tube lying in the grass. If Oxo had seen it, he might have tried it for taste, but he didn't and the warriors hurried on. And on.

“Ohmyhooves…!” Jaycey sat down abruptly. “I'm soooo tired. Can't we stop, Sal? Please?”

Sal squinted ahead into the darkness. She was surprised, and secretly a little worried that they hadn't caught up with the fairy godtingy again. But Jaycey did look tired. They all were. What with one thing and another, they'd had hardly any sleep since arriving in Australia.

“Forty winks then,” she said kindly.

They found a patch of not-too-scratchy grass and, by trampling it as they turned round and round a few times, made a fairly nice place to lie.

“Only forty winks, remember,” said Sal, sagging on to her large, comfy rump.

The others were already snoring.

They didn't hear the soft footfall in the bush nearby.

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