there.
'Yeah,'
said the policeman, 'probably.'
'No.
I haven't seen any whites, on foot or otherwise. What's he done?'
'Nothing.
Just lost. What you doing up here?'
'Catching
insects.'
'Oh.'
(Long pause.) 'Getting plenty?'
'Yeah.'
'Good.'
Another
pause. 'Seen any crocodiles?'
'Yeah.
Quite a few.'
'In
the creeks, you mean? Little fellas?'
'Well,
one was about six feet long,' I said defensively.
'Yeah,
but freshwater. Haven't seen a big estuarine croc?'
'No.
But I haven't been near the sea much.'
'Oh,
they go overland. You want to watch it while you're camping.'
'They
ever grab anybody?'
The
policeman plucked a straw of grass and began chewing it. 'We think
this bloke we're looking for might have been taken by one,' he said.
' He was camped with his mates here,' he nodded towards the two
civilians, 'and went off for a stroll by himself. Didn't come back.
No sign of him since.'
'Where
was all this?'
'About
half an hour up the track from here. Anyway, if you see him, let him
know we were looking for him, will you?'
'Sure.'
They
drove off and I continued hunting insects, keeping a wary eye out for
crocodiles. I had always thought they stuck to the water or very
close to it, and only attacked swimmers or drinking cattle. The idea
of a crocodile roaming around in the scrub seemed as unlikely as it
was disturbing. I thought the policeman might have been pulling my
leg. Queenslanders are like that.
Late
that afternoon the policeman, whose name was Jack, called at my camp
again. The civilians weren't with him.
'Did
you find him?' I asked.
'No.
You seen anyone?'
'No.'
Jack
squatted on one haunch in the manner of those who live north of the
Tropic of Capricorn. I tried to imitate him but found it very
uncomfortable and settled for sitting on the ground.
'Found
his clothes,' said Jack.
'His
clothes?'
'Yeah.
Shoes, socks, shirt, pants and hat, all neatly stacked against a
tree. Must have taken them off and put them there himself.'
'Why?'
'Probably
wanted to cool off in a creek. There's a bit of a creek there. Enough
water to sit in.'
'What
do you think then?'
'Croc
might have got him.'
The
thought lay heavily between us for a few moments.
'
'Course, it might not have,' added Jack.
'What
else, then?'
Jack
thought. 'He might have wanted to blow through. Disappear. Make
people think a croc had got him, or he had got lost or something.'
'Why
would he want to do that?'
Jack
shrugged. 'People often do. Might have been on the run, or just
wanted to get away from a wife or something. Happens a lot. Bloke
always seems to turn up, though. Get charged if they do.'
'What
with?'
'Public
nuisance. Can't have blokes like meself tearing around looking for
people if they're not lost or dead.'
'No.
I suppose not.'
'
'Course,' said Jack reflectively, 'he might've been knocked off.
Thought that yesterday. Not so sure now.'
'Who
might have knocked him off?'
'His
mates,' said Jack, looking surprised that I would ask so obvious a
question. I thought about the 'mates" brutal eyes.
'Why?'
He
shrugged again. 'People do. Might have had a row over money, or a
woman or something. It happens.'
'What
are they doing up here?'
Jack
shrugged again. 'They reckon they're fishing. I think they're
probably poaching.'
'Poaching
what?'
'Crocs.
Protected, you know. Skins worth a hell of a lot of money.'
'But
you don't think they . . . knocked off . . . their mate now, eh?'
'No.
Clothes were too neatly stacked. Those two wouldn't have got them off
him as neatly as that if he was dead. Anyway, they're not bright
enough to lay a false trail like that. No, I reckon a croc got him.'
'Well
there's not much you can do about that, is there?'
'Probably
have to get the croc.'
'How?'
'Oh,
trail around until I find it. It'd be a pretty big one.'
'But
what's the point?'
'Get
the body back. If it's not digested. Besides, have to kill the croc.'
'Why?
Particularly if they're protected? I mean, any big crocodile is
dangerous, isn't it?
'Yeah,'
said the policeman, 'probably.'
'No.
I haven't seen any whites, on foot or otherwise. What's he done?'
'Nothing.
Just lost. What you doing up here?'
'Catching
insects.'
'Oh.'
(Long pause.) 'Getting plenty?'
'Yeah.'
'Good.'
Another
pause. 'Seen any crocodiles?'
'Yeah.
Quite a few.'
'In
the creeks, you mean? Little fellas?'
'Well,
one was about six feet long,' I said defensively.
'Yeah,
but freshwater. Haven't seen a big estuarine croc?'
'No.
But I haven't been near the sea much.'
'Oh,
they go overland. You want to watch it while you're camping.'
'They
ever grab anybody?'
The
policeman plucked a straw of grass and began chewing it. 'We think
this bloke we're looking for might have been taken by one,' he said.
' He was camped with his mates here,' he nodded towards the two
civilians, 'and went off for a stroll by himself. Didn't come back.
No sign of him since.'
'Where
was all this?'
'About
half an hour up the track from here. Anyway, if you see him, let him
know we were looking for him, will you?'
'Sure.'
They
drove off and I continued hunting insects, keeping a wary eye out for
crocodiles. I had always thought they stuck to the water or very
close to it, and only attacked swimmers or drinking cattle. The idea
of a crocodile roaming around in the scrub seemed as unlikely as it
was disturbing. I thought the policeman might have been pulling my
leg. Queenslanders are like that.
Late
that afternoon the policeman, whose name was Jack, called at my camp
again. The civilians weren't with him.
'Did
you find him?' I asked.
'No.
You seen anyone?'
'No.'
Jack
squatted on one haunch in the manner of those who live north of the
Tropic of Capricorn. I tried to imitate him but found it very
uncomfortable and settled for sitting on the ground.
'Found
his clothes,' said Jack.
'His
clothes?'
'Yeah.
Shoes, socks, shirt, pants and hat, all neatly stacked against a
tree. Must have taken them off and put them there himself.'
'Why?'
'Probably
wanted to cool off in a creek. There's a bit of a creek there. Enough
water to sit in.'
'What
do you think then?'
'Croc
might have got him.'
The
thought lay heavily between us for a few moments.
'
'Course, it might not have,' added Jack.
'What
else, then?'
Jack
thought. 'He might have wanted to blow through. Disappear. Make
people think a croc had got him, or he had got lost or something.'
'Why
would he want to do that?'
Jack
shrugged. 'People often do. Might have been on the run, or just
wanted to get away from a wife or something. Happens a lot. Bloke
always seems to turn up, though. Get charged if they do.'
'What
with?'
'Public
nuisance. Can't have blokes like meself tearing around looking for
people if they're not lost or dead.'
'No.
I suppose not.'
'
'Course,' said Jack reflectively, 'he might've been knocked off.
Thought that yesterday. Not so sure now.'
'Who
might have knocked him off?'
'His
mates,' said Jack, looking surprised that I would ask so obvious a
question. I thought about the 'mates" brutal eyes.
'Why?'
He
shrugged again. 'People do. Might have had a row over money, or a
woman or something. It happens.'
'What
are they doing up here?'
Jack
shrugged again. 'They reckon they're fishing. I think they're
probably poaching.'
'Poaching
what?'
'Crocs.
Protected, you know. Skins worth a hell of a lot of money.'
'But
you don't think they . . . knocked off . . . their mate now, eh?'
'No.
Clothes were too neatly stacked. Those two wouldn't have got them off
him as neatly as that if he was dead. Anyway, they're not bright
enough to lay a false trail like that. No, I reckon a croc got him.'
'Well
there's not much you can do about that, is there?'
'Probably
have to get the croc.'
'How?'
'Oh,
trail around until I find it. It'd be a pretty big one.'
'But
what's the point?'
'Get
the body back. If it's not digested. Besides, have to kill the croc.'
'Why?
Particularly if they're protected? I mean, any big crocodile is
dangerous, isn't it?
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