Flight of the Jabiru (16 page)

“Then the one I've seen must be a saltie,” Lara suggested with a hint of annoyance. By now she had every man in the bar's undivided attention, and it wasn't because she was one of the most attractive women they'd ever seen.

“I've been hunting crocs since I was twelve,” Timber said. “I've seen plenty of big salties, but very few get to sixteen feet and they're not in the billabongs. That's a lot of crocodile,” he suggested with grave authority.

“He was at least that long,” Lara insisted. “I was barely ten foot from the monster, so I should know.”

The men looked momentarily stunned, and then they burst out laughing.

Colin flushed and his head dropped, while Lara stared at the men defiantly.

“How long have you been in Australia, love?” a retired hunter asked patronizingly.

Lara noticed he'd lost three fingers on one hand and a thumb on the other. “What has that got to do with anything?” she replied defensively.

“How many crocodiles have you actually seen?”

“Quite a few, unfortunately! That's why I'm here.”

“How is it you came to be ten feet from a sixteen-foot crocodile?” Wally asked. He didn't believe her, but he had the feeling her answer was going to be really amusing. “Were you sunning yourself on the banks of the billabong, and it joined you?”

The men laughed.

“Of course not,” Lara snapped. “I was cleaning the kitchen where I'm living and it appeared in the doorway and growled at me.” As soon as the words tumbled from her mouth Lara realized how unbelievable her story sounded. “I swear it's true,” she added.

“Did you ask it to stand still, Miss Penrose, while you found a tape measure?” Wally suggested, while the men behind him continued to snigger. He was enjoying getting his revenge after she'd made him look a fool.

“Of course not,” Lara snapped again. “I could see the beast's tail through the kitchen window, so I know it had to be at least sixteen feet long. Its head was enormous. It filled the doorway.”

The men burst into riotous laughter, just as Colin expected. He took hold of Lara's arm.

“Come on,” he said. “They do not believe you and that's not going to change any time soon.”

Lara felt humiliated, but she knew he was right. They walked along the esplanade and she sat down on a bench overlooking the harbor.

“I didn't expect that to go so badly,” she said. “I hate it that people think I'm a hysterical woman or that I'm making up a story about a huge crocodile. I know what I saw. I didn't imagine it. One day someone else will see the same crocodile and you'll all know that I was telling the truth.”

“You wait here, while I go and fetch the car,” he suggested. He'd parked it at the back of the hotel, and thought a few minutes alone would do her good.

Lara was glad to have some time to think about what had just happened. She was terribly disappointed that not one man had been willing to help. Where had chivalry gone? Didn't they care about the women and children of Shady Camp?

“Excuse me,” someone with a warm, deep voice said.

Lara turned to find a stranger looking at her. She estimated that he was around thirty years of age as she took in his height, five feet eight, or nine inches. Like everyone in the Territory, he was tanned nut brown, but he looked especially fit. She could see part of his muscled chest as his open shirt moved in the breeze coming off the water. It was a little disconcerting and very hard to get used to the casual way in which people dressed in Northern Australia.

“Yes,” she said with mild interest as she studied his features. His strong jaw was covered in several days of beard growth, his forehead was broad, and his eyes were dark and mesmerizing, but kind.

“If you are still looking for a croc hunter, I'd be willing to help you,” he said.

“Oh, that's very gallant of you,” Lara said.

“Gallantry has nothing to do with it. It's paid work to me,” he replied.

“Thank you, but I need a professional. I wouldn't want to hire someone who might be injured, or worse.”

“What makes you think I'm not a professional hunter?”

Lara was startled. He seemed too ‘nice'. “Are you a good shot with a gun?”

He hesitated. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Taking him a little more seriously, Lara stood up and faced him. “How much experience have you had?”

“I can get rid of the crocs for you. Isn't that what you want?”

“Yes, but ... did you hear me tell those men that there's a monster crocodile in Shady Camp that's at least sixteen feet long?”

“I heard.”

The strong hint of disbelief in his tone made Lara's hackles rise. “But you don't believe me, either.”

He glanced back at the hotel and then looked at Lara again. “Does it matter what I believe?”

Lara was in no mood to be further mocked. “Yes, it matters. If you don't believe me, then I don't want to hire you.” Colin pulled up at the curb in the Ford. To save her further embarrassment, he got out and helped her climb over the door.

“Who's that?” he asked, noticing the man walking away.

“Drive on.“

“Was that man bothering you?” Colin asked.

“No, he said he was a crocodile hunter and that he could help us,” Lara said, putting Betty's scarf on her head. They headed for the Arnhem Highway.

“So you hired him,” Colin said, wondering why she didn't look happier.

“No, I didn't,” Lara said.

“Did he want too much money?”

“We didn't discuss the fee.”

“I don't understand...” It was then that Colin realized the problem. “You mentioned the monster croc and he doesn't believe you.”

“I don't want to discuss it,” Lara said.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

After a night of tossing and turning, and having nightmares about crocodiles and hunters, Lara got up at dawn in an unusually surly mood. She washed and dressed and then went into the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of water and yawned. As per usual, there were many dead moths on the sink and bench tops. She shook her head and absently opened the curtains and then gasped in wonder at the breathtaking beauty framed by the window.

Bathed in soft rosy light that flooded the kitchen, she sighed. “Oh, my!”

The first rays of warm sunlight had turned the sky and the tranquil billabong fuchsia pink. At the water's edge, enjoying the coolest part of the day, two Ibis stretched their long limbs, wings, and preened feathers, while a Jabiru strutted majestically between giant lily pads searching for breakfast. Lara couldn't help smiling when a family of sweet ducks came out from behind one of the boats tied up at the jetty.

Unable to look away, Lara sighed and her mood lifted. It was impossible to remain grumpy while gazing at such a magnificent view. She suddenly had the intense urge to paint. In her late teens and up until eighteen months ago, she'd dabbled in painting, mostly landscapes, but lost interest because of a lack of ‘exotic inspiration'. But each new dawn on the billabong appeared to transcend the last, which made her wish she had a canvas, and paint, so that she could forever capture such unparalleled beauty.

As she filled the kettle with water, and put a scoop of Earl Grey tea leaves in the tea pot, Lara continued to admire the miracle of nature, while the sky gradually changed color. Suddenly, movement in the far-right-hand corner of the window caught her eye, and she jumped with fright. Her heart began racing as she strained to see what was outside, fearing it was the monster crocodile. After a few moments, she realized she was looking at the top of someone's head, and broad shoulders, as they crouched on the ground, and she became angry.

Lara swung the back door open to see a man closely examining the ground a short distance away. “What are you doing?” she asked tersely. “You frightened the life out of me!”

He straightened up and she recognized him. “You! Why are you on your hands and knees in front of my home?” He'd shaved and his shirt was buttoned, but there was no mistaking his dark eyes set in handsome features.

“I was looking for tracks.”

“Tracks?”

“Yes, some indication that a crocodile had been around here,” he mumbled, obviously taken off guard by being caught out and confused by her obvious irritation.

“Why? I told you I'm not hiring someone who does not believe I saw a monster salt water crocodile in my kitchen doorway.”

“I didn't actually say that I didn't believe you. I believe I said something along the lines of it shouldn't matter whether I believed you or not.”

Lara was confused. If he was looking for tracks, was there a possibility that he believed her? “What are you saying, exactly? Do you believe me, or not?”

“I believe you.”

Lara looked at him dubiously. “Why? You'd certainly be in the minority.” So far, only Monty believed her.

“I'm fairly certain I've seen the same crocodile.”

Lara's eyes widened.

“It was on the other side of the billabong. I was looking for something to confirm it was the same crocodile, although the chances of there being two big salties in the same area are very remote. One would kill the other. If it's the same crocodile, he has a toe missing on his back right foot. I don't suppose you noticed something like that.”

“Sorry, I didn't stop to count his toes because I thought I was about to be eaten!”

“It was a stupid question.”

Lara felt remorseful for being surly. “I didn't see either of the croc's back feet. He had his enormous head through the door, and his front feet ... I think. I don't know for sure because I couldn't take my eyes off all those jagged teeth, but I did catch a very brief glimpse of his tail through the kitchen window.”

The visitor looked at the back door, and then stepped sideways to look at the window. Lara knew he was estimating the size of the crocodile. He didn't question her estimate.

“I've never been so terrified in my life,” she added.

“Believe me, I know exactly how you felt,” he said with sincere empathy as he glanced at the ground again. “I was looking for a print in the earth, but it hasn't rained for awhile so the ground is hard and other animals may have crossed this area. How long ago was it here?”

“A few days now,” Lara said. She didn't know what to think. Part of her was happy and relieved that someone believed her, but another part was cross. “Why didn't you speak up yesterday? I might not have looked so much like a complete fool in front of those men in the bar. They're probably still laughing!”

“I have my reasons,” he said.

“You didn't want to join me in looking like a fool?” Lara suggested with a hint of sarcasm.

“That I could handle,” he said.

“Then why didn't you stand up for me?”

“A few years back the aborigines claimed to have seen a giant crocodile. When a fisherman backed their story the government put a bounty on his head. The croc hunters shot every croc in sight, but they didn't kill one over twelve feet long. They nearly wiped out the crocs in the Top End. I don't want to see hundreds of crocs die because the hunters are after one big croc. Besides that, they're dangerous men. You don't really want them around here shooting everything that moves, do you?”

“Well, not all of them. But I had wanted to hire one hunter who would discriminately hunt and kill the dangerous crocodiles.”

“Those men are not discriminate. Take my word for that. They're also not the sorts of men you want to go up against. Not if you plan to grow old.”

“I can understand you'd be afraid of them. They are rather intimidating,” she admitted.

“I have more reason than most to be wary of them. They've already tried to kill me once.”

Lara gasped. “Why?”

“I usually get to the biggest crocs before they do.”

Lara wasn't surprised the killing of big crocodiles was competitive. “Did they try to shoot you?”

“No, there are less implicating ways to get rid of someone in croc-infested waters.”

Lara assumed that he meant that the crocodiles would soon take care of a body in the water. It was a gruesome thought. “So you sell skins and crocodile meat, too?”

“No, I don't kill crocodiles. No animal deserves to die like that so that he can become a handbag or shoes.”

Lara was stunned again. “If you don't kill crocodiles, what are you doing here? You told me yesterday that you can get rid of the crocs around here and that you're a good shot with a gun.”

“I can get rid of them and I am a good shot with a gun. I just don't shoot them.”

“I'm confused and it's too early to be talking to me in riddles.” Lara turned to go inside.

“I trap crocodiles and relocate them, unharmed,” he explained.

Lara turned back to him, wearing an expression of disbelief. “You mean you actually take them somewhere else and leave them there?”

“That's right.”

“Won't they come back? I was told they're territorial.”

“I take them a good way up or down the river systems to places that are accessible only by boat and uninhabitable by humans, where they find new territorial ground. The croc hunters don't like me doing that, because obviously it makes finding them and killing them much harder. There's no real way to tell a croc's age, but a croc as big as the one that was here would very likely be in the vicinity of seventy or eighty years old, or even older. If the croc hunters had believed you yesterday, his days could be numbered.”

“I was hoping his days were numbered because his size makes him very dangerous. There are children in this town. What hope would they have if he decided he wanted to eat them?”

“I know he's potentially dangerous...”

“Potentially!”

“Alright, he's very dangerous, but it would be a real pity to see him killed. I want to move him to somewhere very remote, where he can live out his life in peace.”

Lara was astonished. She'd never expected to meet someone willing to risk his life to save a dangerous animal like a crocodile. “I don't think you introduced yourself yesterday...”

“Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Rick Marshall,” he said, and extended his hand. “I should've introduced myself yesterday, but you didn't really give me the chance.”

“I'm Lara Penrose,” Lara said, shaking his hand. “But I suppose you know that if you were at the pub yesterday.”

Rick smiled for the first time, revealing perfect, white teeth. “Yes, Miss Penrose,” he said charmingly. “So, do I have a job?”

“I can't make a decision without a cup of tea,” Lara said, lighting the camp stove. She went inside to get the kettle and then put it on the camp stove. “Come inside if you'd like to join me,” she said.

“Do you cook meat on this stove?” Rick asked as he noticed a frying pan beside the stove.

“I've cooked fish, but I intend to cook meat. Apparently the wood oven makes the kitchen very hot so I haven't used it yet. Why do you ask?” She was assuming that he'd used a camp stove so she was confused by his curiosity.

“Hasn't anyone told you that crocodiles have a keen sense of smell when it comes to meat?”

Lara was gobsmacked. “Colin Jeffries didn't mention that. In fact, he said the previous tenant mostly cooked outside.”

Rick looked concerned. “It's up to you if you want to cook outside, but stay alert, and cautious, especially after dark. You are very close to the billabong.” He followed Lara inside. “This is nice,” he said, admiring the cheery kitchen.

“Thank you. It didn't look like this a few days ago, but after I'd cleaned the local women provided a few homely touches that made all the difference.”

“Have you had an insect problem?”

“Yes, why?”

“I can smell Mortein Spray.”

Lara was embarrassed. “I think I went a bit crazy with it.”

“You'll get over it.” He noticed she was studying his features. “Have I got egg on my face?” he asked with a grin.

“Sorry, I was just thinking it's a real novelty to see a clean-shaven man,” Lara commented. “I was beginning to think razors are in short supply in the Territory.”

“Humidity and razors are a bad mix,” Rick informed her as he rubbed his smooth chin. “Not so much in the winter, but in the wet season I suffer rashes all the time if I shave every day. Unfortunately, I can't grow a full beard because it's too itchy in this climate.”

“Oh,” Lara said empathetically. “Maybe it's just as well.”

“Why's that?”

She had been thinking his face was too handsome to cover with a beard, but she wasn't going to admit that and make his head swell. She was sure a man with his looks had women falling all over him. “You don't want to look like an old man before your time,” she offered instead.

Rick laughed and sat down at the small kitchen table. “I'm guessing you've only been in Darwin a very short time.”

“That's right, just a few days.”

“You're obviously English and fresh off a ship.”

“Is the accent and white skin a give away?”

“I'm afraid so. What part of England are you from?”

“County Suffolk. I'm the new school teacher.”

“Teacher! I never knew there was a school here.” Rick had passed Shady Camp many times in his boat, but never stopped on the town side of the billabong.

“There isn't a proper school. The church is going to be my classroom.”

He'd been wondering why she was staying in the rectory and considered the idea she was a ministers wife. “What made you choose this place to teach? It's rather isolated.”

Lara's mind flashed back to her conversation with Judge Mitchell and she stiffened. “The children here have been neglected for three years. I find that deplorable.”

“Even so, you're to be admired for taking this place on. I hope these people appreciate you.”

Lara couldn't take his praise when she didn't deserve it. “How long would it take you to move most of the crocodiles from this billabong?”

“It would be impossible to get rid of all the crocs as they come up the Mary River to the wet lands, which are all interconnected and vast in the ‘wet', but it would take me a few weeks, maybe longer, to move the ones that have claimed this area as their territory. In a few months there will be females nesting in the area. They're very tricky to move when they're guarding a nest. They become fearless and ferocious, but it's not impossible.”

“It sounds like dangerous work.” Lara thought shooting them was a safer option.

Rick read her mind. She felt the same way that most people did, so he wasn't surprised. “It can be if you don't know what you are doing. Fortunately, I do.”