Moonstone Promise (18 page)

Luke set off to collect his winnings from the secretary's tent with his fingers in his belt loops, a whistle on his lips and a lightness in his step. He felt taller, stronger, prouder than he ever had in his life.

He looked around at the two pups at his heels. They truly were goofy-looking with their long snouts, droopy jowls and huge fat paws. Their tails seemed too long for their bodies. And for some strange reason they seemed to utterly adore him. He bent over and gave them a pat. ‘Why me?'

Filth instantly rolled on his back and piddled in the air with excitement. Fang jumped over him and got squirted. Luke looked at them with a mix of disgust, endearment and disappointment. ‘Why couldn't you be blue heelers or something useful?'

‘Dingo, Dingo, quick!' Toby yelled urgently, galloping up behind him and pulling Greybo to a sliding stop. ‘The coppers are here, they're asking for some fella called Luke Matheson! That you?'

Sister Suzie!

Luke's eyes darted about. He saw it. A big four-wheel drive with blue-and-white checks down the side and sirens and aerials all over it. Sister Suzie in the front seat, pointing at him.

‘It's the grey nurse!' shrieked Toby.

Luke looked about frantically. ‘They've seen me, Toby, where do I go?'

‘Jump on the back!' screamed Toby. ‘I'll take you to the river. Jump on quick!'

Luke sprang up behind Toby and both he and the boy flapped their legs against the horse's sides, galloping straight for the gap between the cop car and the dagwood-dog stand.

Sister Suzie stepped out and tried to block them, waving her arms and hopping about like a soccer goalie. But Toby rode straight over the top of her, sending her leaping out of the way and crashing into a queue of hungry dagwood-dog customers. Luke turned to see Fang and Filth take flying leaps and land on her. Fang took hold of her trouser leg, growling with high-pitched puppyish rage. Filth lay on her chest and smothered her with kisses. She screamed at the police to get them off.

Luke and Toby sailed over a timber fence and headed straight for the scrub. They galloped in and out of trees and the scrub got thicker and thicker. As the showgrounds grew further and further behind them, they slowed to a walk, keeping under the cover of the trees. Soon they reached an overgrown section of the river, choked thick with pandanus and palms.

‘I think we lost them,' panted Toby.

‘Did you see the dogs?' laughed Luke.

‘Yeah, that pup slobbered all over her!'

They rode for a little while longer and then Luke slipped off the horse and looked back behind him.

He gave a short whistle.

The bush was quiet.

Luke stood and waited, hopeful.

There was a rustle, and first Fang, then Filth, came gambolling along the track. Luke knelt on one knee and held his arms out. They dived into his lap and wiggled excitedly, puffing and slobbering profusely.

‘I think them pups wanna be yours,' said Toby.

‘I reckon there's no getting around it now,' said Luke, jerking his chin away from an enthusiastic tongue. ‘Pwah, have to change their diet though. No more offal for you, matey,' he said, pushing Filth away. ‘What about you? You going back?'

‘I ain't going near them coppers,' said Toby.

Luke wondered why but said nothing.

‘Don't ask,' said Toby.

‘Don't worry,' said Luke, shaking his head. ‘I ain't gonna. But what about your dad?'

‘We know how to find each other out here, no worries,' said Toby. ‘And if we run into a croc, you can wrestle him, like you did that buffalo.'

‘Are there crocs in this river?'

‘Prob'ly not.'

‘That means maybe yes.'

‘Yeah, but what are the chances?' said the kid. ‘That's what Dad always says.'

‘Yeah, what are the chances,' agreed Luke.

They headed back along the river. When the pups got tired, Luke scooped them up and put them in the saddlebags. Toby broke tree branches and arranged various stones as they went, leaving a trail for Pete.

22

THE SUN WAS SETTING
by the time they found the spot where Luke had camped with Tyson and Tex. When they reached the causeway, Luke quickly found the swag and his pack. They had been rolled up and placed under some bushes. Next to them was a bag of groceries and a handline with a few spare lures.

‘Bob's been here,' said Luke, pushing Filth's nose out of the bag. ‘Look, he left us some tucker.' He turned to Toby. ‘You any good at fishing?'

‘Never tried,' said Toby, jumping down from Greybo and unbuckling his saddle.

‘Don't worry. I'm an expert. I'll catch us a big barra!' said Luke. ‘There's a big horse paddock behind all those trees,' said Luke. ‘Let the horse go out there for a pick if you want.' He showed Toby how to use a stirrup leather for hobbles.

Toby led the horse through the river and disappeared. Meanwhile, Luke inspected the lures. There were a few different types. He decided to just go for the biggest one. Surely that would catch the biggest fish. Pulling a few metres of line off the reel, he threw the lure into the water and tied the other end to a tree branch.

‘That oughta do it,' he mumbled to himself, walking back to the bag of groceries. ‘No need to stand around holding it all night.'

There were tins of soup and some crackers. He rummaged through his pack and felt around for a box of matches, then collected some kindling to start a fire. A fat locust landed in his shoulder and clung on with its barbed legs. Crickets chirruped and birds argued with each other as the sun dipped below the horizon. Cane toads smashed about in the bushes. Filth started leaping in after them.

‘Don't go eating one of those or you'll be sorry,' Luke said.

He struck a match and watched the fire crackle to life. Toby came back and sat next to him, wrapping his arms around his knees. He'd gone a bit quiet since the sun started setting. Fang nuzzled under his arm and the boy let him crawl onto his lap.

‘You all right there, little stockman?'

‘Yeah, me and Dad camp out all the time.'

Toby started rocking back and forth and looking around at the darkening trees and water. Luke thought of Chocky and the way he looked after Rusty.

‘I got a real good swag. You can sleep in it if you want, and I'll sleep right next to you, just until your dad comes. He won't be long.'

‘Yeah, he'll be coming soon,' said the kid, nodding and looking into the fire.

Luke dragged the end of a big branch over and laid it on the flames, then opened the box of crackers and offered it to Toby, who shook his head.

‘Reckon there really would be any salties?' Toby asked.

‘Probably not.'

‘That means maybe yes.'

‘Yeah, but what are the chances?' grinned Luke.

There was a huge splashing sound and both Luke and Toby jumped out of their skins. Filth and Fang leapt up and began yapping excitedly at the river.

‘What was that?' Toby ran to Luke and threw his arms around his waist.

‘It's my line!' gasped Luke. ‘It must be huge.'

‘You caught a croc, Dingo Luke!' screamed Toby, backing away from the water.

‘A croc?'

The taut, jerking line was nearly snapping the branch off the tree. Fang hurled himself into the river with a mighty growl and disappeared under the surface, reappearing a few seconds later. He shook the water out of his ears and began growling and yapping again, swimming in circles.

‘Fang! Get out of there, you idiot!' yelled Luke.

Whatever it was, it was the size of a large dog, maybe even a small horse. A
croc?

Luke wasn't taking any chances. He ran away from the river and caught up with Toby. Filth ran at his heels, barking and yapping like mad.

‘Do you really reckon it's a croc?' Luke stared in vain through the trees. ‘Hope Fang hasn't been eaten!'

Toby clamped his arms around Luke's waist again and peered around from behind him. ‘See it rolling?' he whispered. ‘That's its death roll. It wants to take you under the water and roll you around until your arms fall off. Then he wants to ram you under a rock until you rot and then he can eat your guts out!'

‘Whoa,' said Luke.

‘Let's camp up in the hills,' whispered Toby.

‘What about all our food and the swag?'

‘You go an' get them.'

‘Are crocs scared of fire?'

‘Yeah, yeah, you'll be right,' said Toby, loosening his grip on Luke's waist. ‘Just go real quiet. I'll wait here and look after the pup.'

The monster in the river kept jerking and thrashing about in the water, sending waves a metre high all around it and bending the tree branch to snapping point.

‘Reckon we really need our stuff?' asked Luke. ‘That thing looks real angry to me.'

A wave of light arced over the river and the sound of tyres over gravel rolled up behind them.

‘Quick, quick, it's the cops!' squeaked Toby, jumping up and down. ‘We got to run to the hills!' He tugged urgently at Luke's arm. Fang shot out of the water and together the two pups began barking at the car with puppyish fury.

Luke squinted into the headlights. He could see no sirens or aerials. The car had low-set round lights, like those on an HQ ute.

‘It's Bob!' yelled Luke. ‘Bob!' He waved his arms euphorically and scruffed Toby on the head. ‘It's okay, Toby. It's a mate of mine!'

Toby went quiet and slid behind Luke, without letting go of his waist. Luke walked over to the car, dragging the boy behind him. ‘I thought you knew Bob Stockman?'

‘Bob Stockman,' whispered Toby. ‘Who's that?'

‘You know, Paulie and Frank and all that mob,' said Luke, twisting around and trying to detach the boy's arms. ‘One-eyed Willy!'

‘A one-eyed what?'

Luke just shook his head. When he reached the driver's side window, he realised there was another car pulling up behind.

‘Tyson!' yelled Luke. ‘Quick, we caught a big croc! It's tied to a tree!'

The second car came to a stop and Luke watched a big springy-haired silhouette step out.

‘What's that?' Tyson asked.

‘We caught a crocodile. It's in the water, tied to a tree!'

‘What are you talking about?' said Tyson, pushing past Luke and walking down to the river. Bob rolled his ute down onto the causeway and shone the headlights on the splashes that were still erupting from the river. Something silvery flapped in the light.

Tyson turned to Luke. ‘
What
did you say it was?'

‘Ummm,' said Luke, gingerly taking a few steps closer. ‘We weren't exactly sure.'

Tyson waded into the water and seized the line. He pulled a knife from his back pocket, cut the line from the tree, and began hauling a huge ugly fish towards the bank.

‘Geez, give me a hand, Luke,' he grunted, the line winding tightly around his hands. ‘Grab a big thick stick!'

Luke pounced on a thick branch and waded through the river to Tyson.

‘Wrap the line round it,' said Tyson, grimacing.

Luke began winding the stick around and around the line until it was well and truly secured. Then Tyson unwound his hand and shook it out, cursing under his breath. ‘You bring her in, big fulla,' he said to Luke. ‘She's all yours.'

Luke hung onto the wood with his one good hand; his broken arm had no strength at all. He staggered backwards into the knee-deep water. The fish yanked at his arm, lunging from side to side. ‘Come and help me, Toby,' he yelled, planting his feet into a pile of pebbles. ‘It's your fish too!'

Toby needed no second invitation. He leapt into the water and, with his arms over the top of Luke's, began tugging at the fish, hauling it up and over the riverbank until it lay flapping on the dirt, with Fang and Filth darting back and forth and snapping at it.

‘Where'd the wolves come from?' asked Bob.

‘Mate, that is without a doubt the biggest barra I ever saw in my life!' said Tyson, dripping wet, his hands on his hips. ‘That is one big mother of a barramundi.'

Luke stood proudly looking at his catch, the line still in his hand.

Luke Matheson. Man of steel. Big hunter!

‘She's a big breeder. You gonna keep her or let her go?' asked Bob, staring down at the fish with his hands in his pockets.

‘Up to you, Luke,' said Tyson.

‘We got anything else to eat?' asked Luke.

‘Dry crackers,' said Tyson.

‘Let's eat it, let's eat it!' sang Toby, suddenly getting over his shyness. ‘It's my fish too. Let's eat it!'