Lost!

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Authors: Bindi Irwin
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Bindi and Robert stood back from the rock-shelter, staring at the distinctive stripes running down the tiger’s back.
    â€˜He’s out of this world!’ cried Robert, admiring the ancient painting on the rock’s surface.
    Their Aboriginal friend, DJ, laughed. ‘You’re right, Robert, he is out of this world, considering he’s extinct!’
    â€˜I didn’t know Tasmanian tigers had ever lived as far north as the Northern Territory,’ said Bindi, surprised.
    â€˜They sure did!’ answered DJ, with enthusiasm. ‘The Tassie tiger, or thylacine, once lived all over Australia. Aboriginal rock art like this is very cool because not only does it mean a lot of different things to Aboriginal people, it’s also more than just art for tourists and non-Indigenous Australians. It’s a historical record as well.’
    Terri Irwin smiled at DJ’s dad, Tommy Yibarbul, who was an old friend and lectured in Indigenous art at the university in Darwin. ‘He’s becoming a chip off the old block, Tommy.’
    Tommy grinned. ‘Yep, DJ loves an audience.’
    The Irwins took a few more moments to study the Indigenous rock painting of the tiger. It was one of many paintings they had seen that morning, but this one struck a particular chord with the family. They had been in Kakadu National Park for only a few hours and already their heads were filled with wonder at this incredible place.
    â€˜Why did the thylacine die off on the mainland but still live in Tassie?’ asked Bindi.
    â€˜Nobody knows for sure,’ answered DJ, vaguely. He was eager for them to move on to the next painting, but when he noticed the disappointment on his friends’ faces, he continued. ‘Well, they were probably hunted for food, and they had major competition from dingoes. I doubt those two species got on well,’ he offered.
    The Irwins were spending a few days with Tommy and DJ. Their people, the Bininj , were some of the original custodians of the land in Kakadu and they were the perfecttour guides to lead Terri, Bindi and Robert around the Ubirr rock art galleries.
    DJ and Bindi walked on ahead. The boy gave his friend a good-natured nudge. ‘It’s good to see you again, Bindi.’
    â€˜Likewise!’ exclaimed Bindi.
    As they walked, Bindi assessed her friend. It was really good to see DJ again. It had been a while. Their families had been on lots of camping trips together when they were little but, despite the children being penpals, it had been years since they had actually hung out.
    DJ was a few months older than Bindi, but he was so sure of himselfthat he seemed much older, and was happy to treat her like a younger sister. Tall, with a mop of dark hair that hung over his eyes, today he was dressed in dark denim jeans, a skate shirt and a cotton hoodie. He was fun to be around, and whenever he and Bindi were together, they always managed to get into trouble.
    Tommy drew the Irwins’ attention to the next painting. It was a freshwater crocodile. ‘If you look closely at the croc’s markings, you can see he’s painted in the large naturalistic style of the pre-estuarine period.’
    The others stared back with blank expressions. Animal namesthey understood, but now Tommy was speaking a different language!
    DJ laughed. ‘Allow me to translate. Dad means that this piece of rock art is about 20,000 years old.’
    â€˜Now that’s really old,’ said Bindi.
    Tommy nodded. ‘Kakadu’s human history dates back at least 50,000 years. It’s an ancient place.’
    As Bindi listened to Tommy talk, she gazed down from the top of the rock escarpment. The view of the grasslands below was incredible. She noticed a cute little chestnut-quilled rock pigeon hopping about as he foraged forfood. The pigeon was startled by a young woman hurrying along the gravel path. As she drew closer, Bindi could tell that the woman had been crying.

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