Howie the Yowie

by Pat Clarke

  DO NOT DISTURB

  The sign covered a hole in the cave floor. Was it a burrow of some sort? Howie shifted the sign to one side, then knelt down and peered into the hole. Although he could see nothing, there were faint scratching noises coming from deep within.

  ‘Hello! Is anyone home?’ called Howie, cupping his paws around his mouth and sticking his head down the hole.

  The scratching noise stopped. There was complete silence.

  ‘I said,’ shouted Howie, ‘Is anyone home?’

  ‘No!’

  The voice sounded rather cross but Howie persisted.

  ‘Yes, there is. You’re home.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  Howie tried another tack. ‘I’m looking for the Bunyip.’

  ‘He’s not home either.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Can’t you read the sign?’

  ‘You mean the one that says, DO NOT DISTURB?’

  ‘No … the other side!’

  Howie turned the sign over. It read: GONE TO LUNCH.

  ‘But, it’s way past lunchtime,’ he said.

  Howie was getting fed up with all this shouting business and considered dropping stones down the hole to see what would happen. Luckily he didn’t, because after a short bout of silence and with much grumbling and muttering, a pair of oversized ears, together with a long, pointed pink-tipped snout, slowly poked out of the hole. The rest of the body soon followed.

  The creature was so comical that Howie had to stop himself from laughing out loud. What on earth was this rat-like animal with short front legs, long hind legs, and a grey tail with a black stripe and white tip? He had never seen anything like it in his life.

  ‘So, what do you want the Bunyip for?’ the creature asked.

  ‘I … er, want to ask him something.’

  ‘Well, ask away.’

  ‘But you’re not the Bunyip,’ protested Howie.

  ‘Oh, yes, I am!’ came the indignant reply.

  ‘But, you don’t look a bit like one.’

  ‘And what am I supposed to look like?’

  ‘Well now, let me think,’ replied Howie. ‘Something like, half beast, half lizard, with an ant-like head. And great big fangs … oh, and huge red eyes. I nearly forgot those.’

  ‘Sounds pretty scary.’

  ‘Well, yes, it does. Not a bit like you at all.’

  ‘No … but if people thought a Bunyip looked like me, they wouldn’t be afraid of Bunyips, would they?’

  Howie had to admit that this was true.

  The creature eyed Howie up and down as if wondering whether he could be trusted.

  ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  ‘I think so. I’ve never had a secret before, so I can’t say for certain.’

  ‘Well at least you’re honest, so I’ll tell you anyway. This whole Bunyip thing is a myth.’

  ‘A myth?’

  ‘Yes, a myth, you know … a made-up story that people believe is true, but isn’t.’

  Howie was confused. ‘Then … what you’re saying is … ?’

  ‘That there’s no such thing as a Bunyip and furthermore, there never has been!’

  The creature watched the Yowie’s reaction to this astounding revelation and nodded knowingly, ‘It’s amazing how many people claim to have seen one, though. You’d be surprised.’

  ‘If there’s no such thing as a Bunyip, then why do you claim to be one?’

  ‘Well, I’m really a Bilby, a kind of large bandicoot but I’m an actor by profession. So when I heard this job was vacant, I just jumped at the chance. Good acting roles are few and far between, I can tell you.

  ‘What job?’ asked Howie, more mystified than ever.

  ‘Keeper of the Myth, also known as The Myth-Keeper. It’s a very important job, mind you. Probably my most important acting role so far, ensuring that the myth of the Bunyip’s existence continues.’ He paused for a moment to see what effect this statement had on his listener before continuing. ‘Remember. You’re not to tell anyone.’

  ‘I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart.’

  ‘Very well,’ continued the Bilby. ‘Now what is it you wanted to ask the Bunyip?’

  ‘I’ve heard there are Yowies in the Blue Mountains and hoped I might come across them in these caves. Have you ever seen any?’

  ‘Of course not. There’s no such thing as Yowies. They’re a myth too. Just like the Bunyip!’

  ‘That’s not true! I’m a Yowie and I’m certainly not a myth,’ Howie protested.

  The Bilby’s eyes widened in surprise and his jaw dropped open in amazement. ‘Well, knock me down with a cockatoo feather,’ he exclaimed. ‘Fancy you being a Yowie! I thought you were some kind of bear or maybe even a giant koala.’ The Bilby scratched his head thoughtfully and was silent for a few moments. Finally he spoke. ‘You realise what this means, don’t you?’

  Howie shook his head. He had no idea whatsoever.

  ‘Well, it means that if Yowies are real—and they must be, because you’re one—then the Bunyip is probably real too, and not a myth after all. When you think about it, there are so many stories about people who claim to have seen a Bunyip, that surely some of them must be true!’ A broad grin spread across his narrow face. ‘And that means too, that if the Bunyip is real, then there’s no need for me to be Keeper of the Myth any longer. Isn’t that so?’

  ‘Absolutely … I guess,’ said Howie. He had given up trying to follow this peculiar creature’s reasoning and just nodded in agreement. The Bilby was obviously a very smart little fellow and surely must know what he was talking about.

  The Bilby gave a sigh of relief and went on. ‘I must admit, I was getting a bit sick of this job anyway. No one ever comes this way, so I never get a chance to scare anybody. And the pay is pretty poor, too. In fact, no pay at all, now that I come to think of it!’

  A smile lit up his long pointy features, making him look even more comical. ‘Listen here, old chap, why don’t the two of us pal up?’ he suggested. ‘I’m a free agent, now that I’ve stopped being the Myth-Keeper. I can help you in your search to find other Yowies. What do you say?’

  Howie nodded and said, ‘It’s a deal.’ He couldn’t stop grinning. He rather liked this curious, chatty creature and felt he had made a new friend already. Now that Joe was gone, it would be great to have someone to share the journey with.

  The Bilby shot out his paw for Howie to shake. ‘William Bilby, at your service,’ he announced, ‘but you can call me Bill.’

  Howie took Bill’s tiny paw in his own large hand and beamed. ‘My name’s Howard’ he replied proudly, ‘but my friends call me Howie.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The River Cave

  Before leaving the Bunyip Lair, Bill replaced the DO NOT DISTURB sign with another that said GONE FISHING. Then, ducking back into his burrow, he pulled on a floppy blue hat, tied a large red-and-white-striped handkerchief around his neck, and announced that he was ready to go.

  ‘My old mum used to say that a hat and a hanky are essential requirements for venturing out into the unknown,’ Bill explained. On seeing Howie’s look of dismay at having neither of these items, he hastily added, ‘The other essential, of course, is a backpack filled with all kinds of useful things for an adventure, like baked beans and such. In fact, I think it’s safe to say we’re now prepared for just about anything. Shall we push on?’

  And without further ado, they set off—a large, hairy monster hoping to find a family, and a small, comical animal in a flippy-floppy hat, who was, in his own words, “just merrily going along for the ride”.

  Howie sighed with relief when Bill claimed he knew a shortcut out of the caves. The Yowie’s muscles still ached from his torturous climb down the sinkhole, and he was relieved to learn that he wouldn’t have to retrace his steps. Bill’s plan was to make their way to the River Cave and there embark on a boat ride through an underground labyrinth of limestone caverns until they reached an ancient passage that led t
o the outside world.

  Howie remembered something Joe had mentioned. ‘Er, Bill,’ he said nervously, ‘I’ve never been on a boat before. Hope I don’t get seasick.’

  Bill chuckled. ‘No chance of that, old chap. The river flows so gently, you’ll hardly notice you’re moving.’

  Howie followed the bilby along a path that led downwards, across a bridge and into the main chamber. They climbed down some more stairs, ducking frequently under low-hanging rock formations until they arrived at the pool of Cerberus. Here they stopped to catch their breath and admire the surroundings. Then they were on their way again—down two very steep ladders—all the while descending deeper and deeper into the mysterious underworld.

  They could hear the soft gurgling noises of the river and knew their destination was close. Howie gave a huge sigh of relief as he jumped off the final rung and followed Bill to a boat tethered at the water’s edge. Howie was ready and eager for the next part of this amazing adventure—his very first boat ride. As soon as he had settled himself comfortably on the wooden seat, Bill took up a paddle and pushed off.

  While the boat slowly meandered its way through the underground caverns, the unlikely pair marvelled at the incredible beauty surrounding them.

  There were limestone passages draped with dazzling, pure-white crystal formations and forested with delicate crystals tinted every shade of pink. The water was so clear and glasslike that it reflected the spectacular scenery like a mirror. To Howie, it seemed that they were floating through a magical wonderland.

  This section of their journey ended in the “Pool of Reflections”—a deep underground lake whose motionless surface produced stunning reflections. Howie gasped in wonderment. He had never before seen anything so beautiful and could have stayed there for hours.

  But Bill was anxious to get going.

  He jumped out quickly and, with Howie’s help, dragged the boat ashore. They set off on foot once more, along a long, narrow tunnel, the entrance to which was almost hidden by a huge pile of rubble from a recent mudslide.

  As they rounded a bend, they were suddenly struck by a shaft of bright light that made them clap their hands over their eyes. Rays of golden sunlight streaming through a gigantic arch announced they were approaching the outside world.

  Howie took a deep breath as they emerged from the caves and entered a small clearing. It came as a welcome relief from the slightly stale air of the caverns. This was more like it, he thought—trees and rocks and undergrowth, glorious sunshine and lots of cool, fresh air.

  He smiled at his newfound friend. If anyone could help him find his family, he thought, it was bound to be this happy and resourceful little Bilby. He sure was lucky to have met up with such a smart fellow. Howie could hardly wait for the next part of their journey. What an adventure it was proving to be, and what fun to be sharing it with such a delightful companion!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Min Min Light

  From their position atop a high ridge, the two adventurers spied a silvery stream snaking its way along the valley floor. At Howie’s suggestion, they left their vantage point and made their way downhill, pushing through the thick undergrowth that led towards the water.

  ‘It makes sense to follow the waterway,’ said Howie, ‘especially at this time of the evening when animals come down to drink. Maybe we’ll even come across a Yowie, if we’re lucky.’

  But it was much harder going than expected, and night had fallen long before they finally reached the water’s edge and set up camp. After lighting a small fire, they prepared a meal of sorts—some nuts and berries from the forest, along with a tin of Howie’s baked beans— and finally settled down to sleep.

  Only then did they notice the light.

  It was a small, rather dim glow at first, about the size of a torchlight beam. As it approached, however, the light grew larger and larger, until it had grown to the size of a large balloon. It floated towards them as airily as a bubble, casting a strange, ghostly glow that intensified in brightness as it came closer. Howie and Bill watched in silence, mesmerised by this ghostly apparition as it slowly hovered above them—burning brightly as it approached, and dimming as it retreated. The light kept coming and going several times before finally fading away and vanishing completely.

  The Bilby broke the silence. ‘It’s the Min Min Light,’ he whispered in awe.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Howie.

  ‘The Aborigines call it the debil debil. They believe it’s the spirit of their dead ancestors. There’ve been sightings of the Min Min Light all around Australia, especially in outback Queensland.’

  ‘I’ve heard there are Yowies in Queensland too. Do you think this is some kind of sign and maybe Yowies aren’t too far away?’ asked Howie hopefully.

  ‘Hmm …’ said Bill, scratching his long ears thoughtfully. ‘You may be right, my friend. It certainly means something. The question is, whether it’s a good sign or a bad one. It could even be a warning of danger ahead. I suppose we’ll find out one way or another, but we’d best be on our guard, just in case.’

  The two companions decided to take turns keeping watch during the night.

  Howie was finding it difficult to stay awake. He had taken the first watch and was pleased when it was almost time to wake up Bill. He was incredibly tired and couldn’t stop yawning. He felt he could sleep for a week.

  What was that?

  Something had stirred in that nearby bush!

  Suddenly, all of Howie’s senses became alert. His thick brown hair stood on edge. His mouth went dry and his heart began to pound. He peered into the darkness. The orange glow from the campfire made it impossible to see very far but there was definitely something out there.

  There it was again!

  And now a black shape was rising up … straight up … and coming towards him! Before he had time to think or shout a warning, it pounced! Snarling and roaring, something heavy landed on top of Howie and knocked him over backwards. He just missed landing in the fire!

  Razor-sharp fangs sank deep into Howie’s throat. He couldn’t breathe. He rolled over and over on the ground, wrestling with the beast, desperately trying to dislodge it. Just when he thought he was done for, he managed to grab hold of its head in his huge paws. All he could do was try to force its powerful jaws apart.

  As they rolled closer to the flames, Howie got his first look at the ferocious attacker. A pair of big yellow eyes confirmed his worst fears.

  It was a black panther!

  Despite his enormous strength, the Yowie couldn’t budge him. Those jaws were like an iron bear trap, tightly locked into position on Howie’s throat.

  The commotion woke Bill, who immediately realised what was happening and didn’t hesitate for a moment. With a blood-curdling cry, he leapt onto the panther’s back and clamped his hind legs around the base of his neck, then reached around the front to find its face. With the needle-sharp claws of his front legs, he raked its eyes and tore at its snout. At last there came a howl of pain, and the jaws of the panther parted wide enough for Howie to pull free.

  Spitting and snarling, the black beast slunk off into the bushes to lick its wounds.

  Bill bent down to examine his Yowie friend, who was battered and bleeding.

  ‘Boy, am I glad to see you,’ Howie croaked.

  ‘Wait right there,’ said Bill. He bounded down to the water’s edge and filled his flippy-floppy hat with water, then came back and washed away the blood and dirt from Howie’s neck. When he was finished, he used his red-and-white striped handkerchief to bandage the wound and stem the bleeding.

  ‘You saved my life, Bill,’ Howie murmured. ‘How can I ever thank you? If you hadn’t been here, I don’t know what ...’

  ‘There, there,’ said the Bilby, trying to make light of the situation. ‘Think nothing of it, old chap. It was rather exciting, wasn’t it? And just think of the valuable lesson we both learned tonight.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Well, it
just goes to show that mothers really do know best, and that you should always carry a hat and a clean hanky when you go off adventuring.’

  And Howie, as sick as he was, couldn’t help but grin.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Homecoming

  Howie was convinced he was dying. The throbbing pain had become almost unbearable and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. As he lay on the forest floor with the striped bandage around his neck, he tried hard to remember what Bilby Bill had said before he’d left. Something about the light returning and having to follow it. But what light? And why had he hurried off like that? It made his head spin, trying to figure it all out.

  With a groan, Howie closed his eyes and passed out once again.

  The next time he came to, his mind was a bit clearer.

  He remembered being attacked by a black panther and Bill coming to his aid. What a remarkable sight that must have been—a funny, little Bilby, taking on a huge, ferocious black panther! It almost made him smile thinking about it but the wounds on his neck were no laughing matter. If help didn’t arrive soon, he would bleed to death right here in the Blue Mountains and never, ever find the family he was searching for.

  As he lay there in the darkness, Howie also recalled that the strangely beautiful light they had seen earlier in the evening had returned and Bill had decided to follow it in order to get help. What did he call it? The Min Min Light?

  Despite the pain and dizziness, Howie was comfortable enough on his bed of soft leaves and moss in a shelter of branches and bushes that Bill had erected.

  After stoking up the campfire to keep his friend warm, and promising to be as quick as possible, Bill had bounded off, heading towards the mysterious light hovering just a little way off. Amazingly, the Min Min Light seemed to be guiding the Bilby, only floating off as he drew near, and never getting too far ahead. Meanwhile, back at the camp, there were rustling noises coming from the bushes once again. Howie was convinced it was the panther returning. From the sound of it, there might even be more than one!