by Pat Clarke
Ignoring the pain for a moment, he sat up slowly and groped behind himself for the backpack. Without taking his eyes off the bushes, he opened the side flap and felt for the penknife. There it was! It was quite a small knife in Howie’s large hand, but he felt a little better knowing he had something with which to defend himself.
What else could he use as a weapon? Think, Howie, think! His fingers closed around a handle with a metal point … it was the can opener! That would do nicely for backup. And while he waited, Howie pulled out the very last can of baked beans. Moving cautiously, he removed the lid and noted with satisfaction how jagged the edge was—sharp enough to cut deep into the panther’s flesh if he should strike again.
As he crouched in his shelter, all senses attuned to the sounds and smells and movements surrounding him, the Yowie’s thoughts returned to dying. He felt weak and vulnerable. He was painfully aware that if he were attacked by panthers once more, he would not have enough strength left to fight them off.
He was drifting again, just drifting …
No! He mustn’t sleep!
It took all his willpower to remain alert and aware. Howie desperately tried to find something to focus on, to help him stay awake. It would be much too easy for the enemy to sneak up on him and finish him off, otherwise.
Hannah. His thoughts turned immediately to his little friend Hannah.
She had once told him about a place called Heaven, claiming that everyone went there when they died. He wondered if he would go there if the panthers killed him. He recalled a picture book Hannah had shown him, filled with beautiful people called angels, who wore long white robes and flew around, high up in the clouds. Some of them sang in the heavenly choir, Hannah had said, while others played musical instruments called harps. Howie liked the sound of Heaven and hoped he would go there, even though there was no chance he’d get chosen for the choir. His voice was far too gruff. But maybe there was something else he could do … like polishing the stars, perhaps.
Funny, how heavy his eyelids had grown. Howie gradually gave in to the feeling and closed his eyes.
He was vaguely aware of a dreadful commotion nearby but couldn’t concentrate enough to figure out what it was. There were growls and snarls, intermingled with yells and screeches. It had to be the panthers. But even this thought was not enough to rouse him.
He sank deeper and deeper into oblivion.
Then arms lifted him up, strong yet gentle. They raised him high and carried him along. The burning pain was gone and Howie felt pleasantly drowsy, warm and comfortable. Perhaps the angels were taking him up through the clouds …
‘Am I in Heaven yet?’ he asked dreamily.
‘Of course not,’ said a gruff voice. ‘You only go there when you die, and you’re very much alive and kicking, I’m happy to say.’
Howie slowly opened his eyes and got a tremendous shock.
Was this a mirror?
The figure beside him had small, squinty red eyes and a squashed- in nose, just like his own. Was this …? Surely it had to be … just had to be … He snapped his eyes shut; certain that he was dreaming but couldn’t resist one more glimpse, just to make sure …
It was, it was, it really was a YOWIE!
The voice spoke again. ‘I know you’re not well enough to understand all this but there’s someone here who can’t wait to see you.’
Howie closed his eyes. It was all too strange and confusing. He couldn’t, didn’t want to, think about anything. All he wanted was to sleep.
Then came a feather-light touch on his forehead and a soothing voice whispered words of comfort. Now he was positive he was dreaming. This was the familiar voice that so often haunted his dreams. Long-forgotten memories flooded back.
He opened his eyes and gazed at the figure bending over him.
Reaching for the hand that stroked his forehead, he sobbed, ‘Mother.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bilby Bill
It was almost Christmas—Hannah’s favourite time of the year.
She spent the morning making decorations for the small pine tree her father had brought home the night before, carefully twisting red and green crêpe paper into streamers, and painting pinecones with silver and gold to hang in its branches. After adding a few other ornaments that she found in a box of leftover decorations, Hannah stood back and admired her handiwork.
Almost finished. All that was needed was the large gold star that went right on top. It was lying on the floor beside the tree. As she picked it up, Hannah noticed that it was quite shabby from all the years of use and had lost most of its glitter. No, that wouldn’t do at all. What she needed was something else, something special.
Hannah wished she had an angel for the tree. That would brighten it up nicely! Oh, well, she told herself, she would just have to look for something else.
She left the house and was gathering wildflowers in the forest and wondering what she could possibly use to replace the gold star, when her thoughts were interrupted by a noise coming from a little way off.
She pricked up her ears. It was someone singing. She listened carefully and was finally able to make out some words.
‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way …’
Hannah was thrilled. She knew her mother was expecting the Indian trader to call. If it was him, perhaps he’d have an angel for the tree! With that in mind, she scooped up her basket of flowers and scampered up the path towards the music.
But what was this? Hannah stopped dead in her tracks. She could hardly believe her eyes and rubbed them to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Sure enough, hopping towards her, singing at the top of its voice, was the funniest little creature she had ever seen.
The creature stopped too.
For a moment they both stood there, silently staring at each other.
The odd-looking animal was the first to break the silence. It lifted its blue floppy hat with a grand flourish and bowed deeply. ‘Miss Hannah, I presume?’
Hannah nodded and clapped her hands in delight at this fascinating being who seemed to know her name.
Taking a few steps forward, she examined it more closely. She had never seen anything quite like it before. It had a face like a rat, soft silky fur and a pointed snout with whiskers. Its ears were long and narrow like a rabbit’s, so perhaps it was some kind of bunny. But no, she decided, that couldn’t be, because of its long grey tail with a black stripe and white tip. Everyone knew that bunnies had short, fluffy, cute little tails.
Was it a potoroo, she wondered?
Feeling just like Alice in Wonderland, she pretended to hold out the sides of a dress and curtseyed. ‘Yes, I’m Hannah,’ she said politely. ‘And may I ask who you are?’
‘William Bilby at your service, Miss,’ he replied, bowing deeply once more. ‘Or Bilby Bill … whichever you prefer. Shall we sit? I have a message for you … from a mutual friend.’
Intrigued as to what this message could possibly be, Hannah led him over to the fairy ring. They sat opposite each other on the little wooden stools her father had built and Bilby Bill opened the backpack he’d been carrying. He withdrew a piece of folded paper and handed it to Hannah.
As soon as she opened it, Hannah smiled widely. It was a crayon drawing of a small girl holding hands with a big, hairy monster. Beneath it were printed the words:
HOWIE + HANNAH
Friends Forever XXX
It was the note she had sent Howie to warn him about Scarfie the Yowie hunter. It seemed like such a long time ago and she was both touched and amazed that he’d kept it all this time.
‘Have you seen Howie?’ she asked eagerly. ‘Is he all right? Did he find his family? Please, tell me everything!’
Hannah already knew some of Howie’s story since leaving the forest. Her father had received a letter from Joe Maloney, who had written about their adventures on the way to the Blue Mountains. Joe had sent the letter from Sydney Town just before boarding his ship to Ireland, and along with the
letter came a present for Hannah—a small brown teddy bear with reddish glass eyes, a squashed-in nose and a lopsided smile. Joe explained that although the original idea was to buy a doll, he felt sure Hannah would prefer the bear, as it would remind her of her friend. The toy bear had immediately become Hannah’s most treasured possession.
Now this odd little Bilby was able to fill in the rest of the story.
He explained how he and Howie had first met and how, when Howie had been attacked by a black panther, it had been up to him to go for help. The Min Min Light had guided him to a group of Yowies hidden deep in the forest and they had come to Howie’s rescue.
Hannah gasped. ‘So there really were Yowies in the Blue Mountains after all? How absolutely wonderful!’
‘Indeed it is. It seems that young Howie was stolen from his family when he was only small. His mother escaped from the hunters but she was badly injured and couldn’t save her baby.’
‘But … then how did Howie end up in the Goonoo Forest? It’s an awfully long way from the Blue Mountains to here.’
‘That, I’m afraid, will always remain a mystery, my dear. A hunter named Scarfie is the only person who knew what really happened, and I believe he is now dead and gone. No great loss, I hasten to add. From the sound of it, he was a pretty nasty fellow.’
Hannah scrunched up her face in anger. ‘That horrible man! He told Mama he’d seen a female Yowie and her baby in the Blue Mountains years ago.’
‘Was he the one who stole Howie?’
‘Apparently so, and that’s how he got that ugly scar down the side of his face. Even though she was seriously wounded, Howie’s mother fought as hard as she could and managed to rip open the side of his face before he ran off with her baby.’
‘Good. I’m glad she did!’ Hannah’s eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. ‘How awful for poor Howie … to be taken from his mother when he was so little … and to grow up all alone.’
‘Please don’t cry, Miss Hannah. It’s a story with a happy ending, after all,’ said Bill, hopping over to Hannah and patting her arm consolingly. ‘Our friend Howie has been reunited with his mother and, as you can imagine, they are over the moon about being together again.’
‘Oh, Bill,’ said Hannah, drying her eyes on her sleeve, ‘it’s what he always dreamed of—his very own family.’
Bill untied the hanky from around his neck and, after wiping his own eyes, handed it over. ‘Here, use this.’
Hannah blew her nose loudly and dabbed at her eyes with the striped hanky. There was one part of the story that hadn’t yet been explained. ‘What happened after you found the Yowie tribe, Bill?’
The Bilby returned to his stool, screwed up his eyes and twitched his nose. ‘Hmm, let me see. You can hardly call them a tribe, really, as there’s only about eight or ten in all—though I must say, they’re a pretty fearsome lot. I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of them. Anyway,’ he said, chuckling at the memory, ‘we got back to the campsite just in time to help Howie. There were three panthers just about to strike. But by the time the Yowies had finished with them, all that remained were pieces of panther.’
He leaned over and reached into his backpack. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve kept some mementoes of that night. Perhaps you would like to have one. Look here, this is a panther tooth,’ said Bill, holding up a razor-sharp fang. ‘You can have it, if you like.’
Hannah did not want to offend him but politely declined the offer all the same. This could have been the very tooth that hurt her dear friend Howie. Just the idea of touching it made her shudder.
The Bilby stood up once more and declared that it was time for him to leave. ‘I’m heading for a place called Charleville, up in Queensland,’ he said. ‘Rumour has it, there’s a Bilby colony up that way.’
‘I hope you’ll be as lucky as Howie was,’ Hannah said, taking his tiny paw and giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘Maybe you’ll find your family, too.’
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Bill smiled, ‘but that’s not the purpose of my visit. You see, we Bilbies are in danger of becoming extinct, and though I’m not sure what they actually do at this colony, my intention is to see if I can help in some way.’
Hannah waved goodbye and watched as Bilby Bill hopped to the end of the track and disappeared from sight. She suddenly noticed his hanky and picked it up but it was too late. He was already gone. Never mind, she told herself, she would keep it as a memento of his visit—a much nicer one than that dreadful panther tooth!
She could hardly wait to tell her parents the wonderful news.
Clutching Howie’s drawing to her chest; she dashed down the path and headed for home.
As she raced along the track, a wonderful idea struck her.
She knew exactly what she would place on top of the Christmas tree. Not an angel, after all, but the little brown bear with the squashed-in nose, the reddish glass eyes and the lopsided smile.
The End
FACT OR FICTION
Goonoo Forest (Fact)
The Goonoo State Conservation Area covers an area of 62,500 ha. It lies 40km north east of Dubbo, NSW and is an oasis of natural bushland providing refuge for threatened species such as the Malleefowl, Regent Honeyeater, Turquoise Parrot, Glossy Black-cockatoo and the Barking Owl. The Barking Owl has an extremely characteristic voice that can range from a barking dog noise to a shrill, woman-like scream, and has sometimes been referred to as the source associated with stories surrounding the presence of the Bunyip.
Bunyips (Fiction)
Bunyips are mythical creatures that supposedly lurk in swamps, billabongs, creeks, riverbeds and waterholes. It is said they have a great appetite—especially for humans—and were greatly feared by Aborigines. Descriptions of this fearsome creature vary, but all are equally terrifying.
Yowies (Fact or Fiction?)
Since the early days of European settlement in Australia, many people claim to have encountered this mythical, hairy, ape-like creature; similar to the Himalayan Yeti (Abominable Snowman) and the North American Sasquatch (Bigfoot). Reports indicate that Yowies appear to be timid creatures, not given to violence, and who emit a screeching sound before heading off into the trees when sighted. There have been claims of sightings in the Blue Mountains and in the vicinity of Dubbo in 1935 and 1969 but despite rewards being offered for their capture, so far no-one has yet produced a real live Yowie.
Bilbies (Fact)
The Greater Bilby is an endangered species. It is the largest member of the family of Bandicoots and is a desert-dwelling marsupial. It is also called the Rabbit-eared Bandicoot because of its large rabbit-like ears. It has excellent hearing and sense of smell, which make up for the fact that it has very poor eyesight. Like the Koala, the Bilby does not drink water but gets all the moisture it needs from its food which consists of insects, seeds, spiders, fruit and fungi. A portion of the profits of the sale of chocolate Easter Bilbies (as an alternative to chocolate Easter Bunnies) are channelled towards Bilby protection and research in an attempt to protect this precious Australian icon from extinction.
‘Waltzing Matilda’ (Fact and Fiction)
This song is Australia’s most popular bush ballad and is often referred to as the unofficial national anthem. The lyrics were written by the famous Australian poet, Banjo Patterson in 1895.
The story tells of a swagman who had camped at a billabong and was in the process of cooking a sheep that he had stolen. He was ‘boiling the billy’ to make a cup of tea when the owner of the aforesaid sheep arrived on the scene accompanied by three policemen (troopers). In an attempt to escape, the swagman jumped into the billabong and drowned. His ghost haunts the place where he died.
Black Panthers (Fact or Fiction?)
Rumours have circulated for years about the existence of a colony of big cats roaming the Blue Mountains. One theory is that the cats escaped from private zoos or a circus many years ago and have since bred and survived. Another theory is that American World War II airmen b
rought cougars with them as mascots and released them into the Australian bush. Sightings of exotic big cats in Australia began more than 100 years ago, but a report commissioned by the State Government concluded that the many hundreds of people, who claim to have seen the panthers, are wrong. It is suggested that the sightings are of domesticated cats ‘gone feral’ but not everyone is convinced of this fact.
The Min Min Lights (Fact)
The mysterious Min Min Light is an unusual light phenomenon that has been reported numerous times in eastern Australia. Stories of the lights can be found in Aboriginal myths from way before European settlement. Some accounts describe the light as approaching them several times before retreating, while others report that the light kept up with them when they were travelling in a car. Various explanations have been put forward including optical illusions, luminescent animals or a form of mirage. Nobody disputes the existence of the Min Min lights or the fact that it is quite an unnerving experience, should you encounter this phenomenon.
The Jenolan Caves (Fact)
The Jenolan Caves are a National Treasure, set in the World Heritage wilderness of the Blue Mountains, NSW. They are the world’s oldest known and dated open cave system and are the most spectacular caves in Australia. These caves were known by the Gundungurra people as ‘Binoomee’—meaning, ‘the dark place’. They were discovered by Europeans in 1838 when James Whalan, a local pastoralist, recorded their discovery. He came across them while in pursuit of a bushranger named James McKeown, who had been using the caves as a hideout. Word soon spread of the discovery of this hidden wonderland and both James Whalan and his brother Charles, acted as honorary guides until the first official cave guide, Jeremiah Wilson was appointed The Keeper of the Caves in 1866/67.
