by Pat Clarke
HOWIE THE YOWIE
ADVENTURES OF A LOVABLE MONSTER
PAT CLARKE
ILLUSTRATED BY GRAEME COMPTON
www.goonoobooks.com.au
First published in Australia in 2014
by Little Steps Publishing
Suite 3, Level 2, 18 Aquatic Drive
Frenchs Forest NSW 2086
www.littlesteps.com.au
Text copyright © 2014 Pat Clarke
Illustrations copyright © 2014 Graeme Compton
This book is copyright.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review,
as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without
written permission. Enquiries should be addressed to the publishers.
All rights reserved.
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Author: Clarke, Pat, author.
Title: Howie the Yowie / written by Pat Clarke and illustrated by
Graeme Compton.
ISBN: 9781925117165 (hardback)
ISBN: 9781925117233 (eBook)
Target Audience: For children.
Subjects: Yowie (Mythical animals)--Juvenile fiction.
Animals, Mythical--Australia--Juvenile fiction.
Other Authors/Contributors:
Compton, Graeme, illustrator.
Dewey Number: A823.4
Designed by Dana Brown
For my sons
Jim, David and Steven
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE: The Christening
CHAPTER TWO: The Accident
CHAPTER THREE: The Stranger
CHAPTER FOUR: The Capture
CHAPTER FIVE: The Unveiling
CHAPTER SIX: The Good Idea
CHAPTER SEVEN: The First Day
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Second Day
CHAPTER NINE: The Jenolan Caves
CHAPTER TEN: The Bunyip
CHAPTER ELEVEN: The River Cave
CHAPTER TWELVE: The Min Min Light
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Homecoming
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Bilby Bill
FACT OR FICTION
CHAPTER ONE
The Christening
The forest creature gazed at his reflection in the waterhole, and crouching down, he examined his face more closely in the still, clear water. His whole body except for his face was covered in scraggly dark hair, matted with snagged leaves, twigs and dirt. His long, pointy, claw-like fingers and toes, small, squinty red eyes, squashed-in nose and sticky-out ears, did nothing to improve his appearance.
Not a pretty sight, he decided, shaking his head sadly.
He wondered what kind of animal he was. He knew he wasn’t human and decided he was most likely some kind of bear or ape. Not big and scary like King Kong but a smaller, friendlier version … like a chimpanzee, perhaps.
It came as a terrible shock when he finally learned the truth.
While gathering fresh nuts and berries for his breakfast one morning, the creature suddenly found himself face to face with a hunter. He gave the man his best friendly smile, stretching his lips as far as they could go and showing his large yellow teeth. The hunter’s eyes grew wide with fright. His jaw dropped open and his gun fell to the ground. Jumping backwards and running crazily through the forest, he screamed at the top of his voice, ‘A Yowie! There’s a Yowie in the forest!’
So that’s what he was … a Yowie! Not a bear or an ape or a smiling chimpanzee.
This was not good news. Yowies had a very bad name. He had heard parents warn their children not to wander off in case the Yowie caught them and gobbled them up. Gobbled! He knew he would never do such a thing. He was a kind and gentle creature, and besides, he was a vegetarian, not a meat eater, and would never dream of “gobbling up” anyone.
It was also said that Yowies roamed the countryside at night, stealing babies from their cradles. And this was another great big lie! Why … he had never stolen a baby in his life, and never wanted to either! He wondered how Yowies had earned such a shameful reputation and decided that if he ever got the chance, he would prove it was untrue.
After the “hunter experience”, the Yowie was even more careful than before. He knew that once word spread of his presence in the forest, the place would soon be full of hunters, all trying to catch him or kill him. So he lay low in his hiding place, only coming out to gather food and to drink at the nearby waterhole when it was safe to do so.
He was right about the hunters. They came in big numbers, all hoping to kill him and take his body back home as a trophy to display on the wall and to boast afterwards about their bravery in killing the “savage beast”.
After a while though, when there were no further sightings, people began to lose interest. Some of them questioned whether there had ever been a Yowie in the first place. Perhaps the hunter had been mistaken or drunk or had even made up the whole story just to impress his mates. Either way, the incident was soon forgotten and life in the Goonoo Forest slowly returned to normal.
But it was a very lonely life for the Yowie.
How or why he came to live in the Goonoo Forest was a mystery. Surely he must belong to somebody but if there were other Yowies, why hadn’t he ever come across them? The more he thought about it, the sadder and lonelier he became. He would have liked a human friend but knew this could never be. Everyone was too afraid of Yowies.
One claim that really surprised him was that Yowies were smelly creatures. He thought he smelled alright, but just to make sure, took a big sniff of his hairy armpits. First one arm, then the other. Phew! The smell nearly knocked him over. And what about his breath? He held a paw to his mouth, breathed into his palm and inhaled. He pulled a face. He had to admit his breath was a bit off, too, and there and then he decided that if he ever had the chance, he’d get whatever he needed to freshen himself up. Perhaps if he didn’t smell so awful, humans might be a bit friendlier.
In a small cottage at the edge of the forest, there lived a woodcutter and his family. The Yowie was fascinated by these humans. Because he was lonely, he liked to keep watch over the family and his dream was that one day he might get to know and be accepted by them—especially the little girl Hannah. On some nights, when it was safe to do so, he crept up to the cottage and sat in the bushes beneath her window, listening to the bedtime stories her mother read aloud.
How wonderful it must be to have a mother, thought the Yowie wistfully. He supposed he’d once had one. If only he could remember! Whenever he thought of the family he’d never known, the tears ran silently down his weather-beaten face, and there came a strange ache in his heart that wouldn’t go away.
The bedtime stories always cheered him up, though. Hannah’s favourite story (and the Yowie’s too) was about a chocolate cake monster, who lived in a forest and ate nothing but chocolate cake. The Yowie wondered about this thing called “chocolate cake”. Was it as yummy as it sounded? He certainly hoped to find out one day!
He could hardly contain his excitement one morning, as he watched the woodcutter harness up his horse and cart and the family climb in and drive away. Now was his big chance to go inside and have a go at cleaning himself up. Then no one would ever be able to accuse him of being smelly. His heart pounding, he crept up to the cottage, pushed open the kitchen door and quickly entered.
What should he do first? Where would he find the things he was after and what did they look like? The little girl and her mother smelled like flowers, while the father had more of a spicy, woody aroma about him. How did they get to smell so different? It was all a big mystery!
Not knowing anything about bathrooms, and never having been in a kitchen before, he was puzzled about where to
start. He opened a cupboard door.
Crash! Clatter! Clang!
Pots that had been stacked unevenly in the cupboard crashed onto the floor, making a dreadful racket. He jumped back in fright.
No sooner had he recovered from this shock, than there was another. The Yowie was amazed to hear a little voice coming from behind him.
‘There’s no chocolate cake but there are plenty of chocolate cookies if you’d like some.’
The startled creature turned around. It was the little girl. She hadn’t gone with her parents and baby sister after all!
There were red spots all over her face. ‘I’ve got the measles, so don’t come too close,’ she explained. ‘I wouldn’t want you to catch them too. Sit down and make yourself comfy while I get you a glass of milk and some cookies.’
The Yowie just stood there, mouth open wide, gazing down at the calm little girl in front of him. She seemed completely unafraid. This was not a reaction he was used to at all. He didn’t know what to do.
He looked around the kitchen and deciding that the chairs were much too flimsy to hold his weight, plopped himself down, cross-legged, on the floor. At least now they were eye to eye.
‘My name’s Hannah,’ she told him. ‘I know you’re the Chocolate Cake Monster, but do you have a proper name?’
The Yowie chuckled. The chuckle soon grew into a laugh. This was just too funny to be true. Why … she thought he was the Chocolate Cake Monster from the story! He rocked with laughter and couldn’t stop. Then something peculiar happened. Before he knew it, his laughter had turned to sobbing and he was crying as if his heart would break.
Forgetting all about her measles, Hannah ran up to him. She threw her arms around his neck. ‘Please … please … don’t cry. I’ll get Mama to make you a chocolate cake as soon as she comes home, I promise.’
Not wanting to upset the little girl any further, the Yowie made a great effort to pull himself together. He sniffed, stopped crying and then, giving her a teary, lopsided smile, explained that he didn’t have a name and no, he wasn’t the Chocolate Cake Monster, but was instead (he was almost too afraid to say it) a Yowie!
He needn’t have worried. This news didn’t bother Hannah one little bit. She was more concerned that he didn’t have a name.
‘Everyone should have a name’, she said solemnly, ‘otherwise people would just say “Hey You”, and that’s not very nice’. She was silent for a while, deep in thought. ‘How would … ’ she began. A grin spread over her face and she clapped her hands excitedly. ‘That’s it! What about “Howard”? That was Granddad’s name, and I’m sure he’d be happy for you to use it. He was called “Howie” for short, and that would be perfect. Howie the Yowie has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?’
Quickly gulping down the glass of milk and taking a handful of cookies, the Yowie nodded eagerly.
‘I could christen you, you know. All I have to do is sprinkle a bit of water on your head, say out loud, “I christen you Howard,” probably say a little prayer, and that’s about it. Easy peasy!’ Hannah beamed with delight.
The Yowie nodded “okay” and stuffed more cookies into his mouth. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life and wondered how chocolate cake could possibly taste any better.
Tilting her head to one side, Hannah inspected him closely.
‘You really should be dressed in decent clothes for your christening, but you’re bigger than Daddy, so none of his clothes would fit. Never mind, you can wear one of his ties and his very best hat which he only wears for weddings and such.’ The little girl frowned. ‘No offence, but you really should have a wash first … just so you’re nice and clean for the occasion.’
His mouth full, the soon-to-be christened creature nodded agreeably at this suggestion. After all, that was his reason for being there in the first place.
‘Come with me,’ said Hannah.
She put her tiny hand into his huge paw and led him out to the washhouse. Against one wall was something that looked like a large water trough for animals, but which Hannah called a bathtub. She ladled some warm, soapy water from the old copper into the tub and filled it halfway up. The Yowie then did as Hannah instructed and climbed in.
What happens next, he wondered?
He soon found out. Using a large enamel jug, Hannah poured warm water over his head. She handed him a bar of yellow soap and an old washer and showed him how to shampoo his thick, matted hair.
‘YOWeeeee,’ he cried, when the soap went into his eyes.
‘Don’t be such a baby!’ Hannah said firmly. ‘It won’t sting for long.’ She stepped back and looked at him, ‘Ooh, that looks so funny,’ she giggled, watching the froth and bubbles cover the sodden creature from head to toe.
The Yowie grinned too, showing his large yellow teeth.
‘My goodness! Your teeth! We’ll have to do something about them as well.’
After showing him how to brush his teeth (using a very old toothbrush that Mama kept specially for cleaning the hard-to-get-at places), she decided he was sufficiently clean and would “do” very nicely. It was time to hop out and dry off. The water in the tub was murky and muddy, with dead leaves and sticks and insects floating on top. After Hannah pulled out the plug and the water drained away, there remained a dark brown tidemark all the way around the tub, with long, wet strands of hair clinging to the sides.
‘Oh, yuck! What a disgusting mess! Mama will have a fit!’
The Yowie’s face turned bright red. Where had all this rubbish come from?
‘Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up later,’ Hannah assured him. ‘Let’s get you dried off now. I’ll go get you a big, fluffy towel.’
But the Yowie didn’t wait for her return. He knew the best way to get dry. He spread out his arms and legs, shaking himself vigorously; stamping up and down, and splashing soapy water all over the place.
When Hannah returned, she found a rather damp Yowie standing in a huge puddle, with water slowly trickling down the walls and dripping from the ceiling.
She sighed. ‘Oh, dear! Now we’ll have to clean up this mess, too. But never mind, we’ll get the christening done first.’
Once more taking his hand in hers, she led the Yowie back to the kitchen.
‘There … that’s better,’ she smiled when she’d knotted a colourful tie around his neck.
‘You look very handsome. Now, let’s get started.’
While he closed his eyes and bowed his head, Hannah murmured some solemn words and sprinkled his head with water from the kitchen tap. She then carefully positioned her father’s hat on top of the Yowie’s hairy head and announced in her loudest voice, ‘I christen you Howard’.
It was done. He finally had a name! A real name like other people! He was “Howie the Yowie”, but even better than that … he now had a friend!
Howie sighed with contentment as he munched on another handful of cookies, with Hannah kneeling beside him on the kitchen floor. He had never been so happy in his life!
It was this scene that greeted Hannah’s parents upon their return.
Neither Hannah nor Howie had heard them pull up and they were caught completely unawares.
‘What on earth is going on?’ roared Hannah’s father. ‘Who is this creature? What’s he doing in our house?’ He raced to get his gun while her mother screamed and the baby bellowed in fright.
There was such a commotion that Howie decided not to hang around any longer. He took off as fast as he could, bounding out the door and down the track.
‘Hey, you! Come back with my hat and tie!’ was the angry shout that followed him as he disappeared into the forest.
‘His name isn’t Hey, you,’ cried Hannah. ‘It’s Howard … but he’s called “Howie” for short!’
CHAPTER TWO
The Accident
It was baking day and Mary Richards was busy cooking something special for Howie—his absolute favourites—chocolate cookies! As she rolled the soft dough into balls, her thou
ghts drifted back to the day when Howie had first come into their lives.
She smiled, remembering how shocked she and Jim had been when they’d entered the house last spring and found a huge, hairy monster sitting with Hannah on the kitchen floor, surrounded by saucepans, puddles of water, wet towels and cookie crumbs. She chuckled aloud at the memory of the Yowie, wearing Jim’s best hat and tie, racing down the track, with Jim chasing after him and yelling at the top of his voice.
She had been quite cross with her daughter at first—especially when she saw the mess in the bathroom—but Hannah helped her clean it up and was soon forgiven. Mary remembered listening in fascination to Hannah’s tale of the afternoon’s strange events and of roaring with laughter when she came to the part about the Yowie’s christening ceremony! It made her smile even now!
Mary had awoken to a pleasant surprise the following morning.
When she opened the front door, she had discovered her husband’s hat and tie neatly placed on the doorstep. But that wasn’t all. There was something else as well—a lovely bunch of wildflowers and a lopsided leaf basket filled with plump, juicy blackberries.
Every morning for the next week there was a special gift of some kind. Since Howie didn’t know what humans ate, some of the nuts and berries he left were only suitable for animals, but others were sweet and delicious. Of all these gifts, though, Mary loved the flowers best—the pale pink bush orchids, fluffy yellow wattle, bright white daisies and dainty bluebells.
Hannah told her mother about the Yowie’s love of bedtime stories, especially the one about the Chocolate Cake Monster.
One night, after reading that story for the umpteenth time, Mary closed the book and smiled. ‘Do you think Howie might like some of our chocolate cake … if he’s outside … and if he’s listening … and if he’s hungry?’
‘I’m sure he would!’ Hannah replied, clapping her hands delightedly. She put her head out the window and said very politely, ‘Hello? Are you there, Howie?’
