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Authors: Kenneth Cook
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This one's not more dangerous because it's
killed a man.'
'No.
But we always kill 'em if they take somebody. If we can.'
That
seemed to me like killing a tree because it dropped a branch on
somebody, but I didn't pursue the argument.
'Anyway,'
said Jack, 'he might have just got himself lost and be still
wandering around, or he might have shot through.'
'So
what are your plans?'
'Going
back to get instructions from the boss,' he said, standing up. 'Be
seeing you. If you happen to see him, don't forget to tell him I'm
looking for him. You'll know him because he'll have no clothes on,
probably. Be seeing you.'
'See
you.'
He
dropped in again next morning, ostensibly to ask again whether I had
seen the missing man, but really because he just liked dropping in.
I
had more or less worked the area dry for specimens, but I was
interested in hanging around to find out what had happened.
'My
boss reckons the setup's a bit crook,' he said. 'I've got to keep
nosing about until I find out what did happen to the bastard.'
'Does
your . . . boss . . . think it was a crocodile?'
'Should
be more signs if it was, he says. Fair enough. You see, the creek
near where his clothes were was pretty small — you
could step over it. If he was sitting in there and the croc got him,
you'd expect to find some blood and stuff on the banks — but
it might have all been washed away. Then if the croc got him on dry
land, there should be some traces around — until
the ants clean it up, of course. It's a pity he wasn't wearing his
clothes. Always something left when a stiff's been wearing clothes.'
'Do
many people get taken by crocodiles, then?'
'Nah.
Few of the Murri kids, old people. No, people die lots of ways out
here and then the dogs and the birds and the ants and the pigs clean
'em up pretty quickly — often
don't even find bones, but you usually get a bit of clothing. Now we
got all this bloke's clothing, but it looks as though he took
everything off himself. Even his wristwatch was in the pocket of his
pants.'
'How
exactly would a crocodile get him on dry land, or even in a little
creek? Surely he'd hear it coming.'
'Nah.
They can move like a galloping horse for a short distance. Seen one
jump out of the water over on the coast once and run after a bloody
great cow. She didn't have a chance. She caught wind of him all right
and started to gallop away, but he ran her down, grabbed her by the
back leg and dragged her into the water. Ever seen the big lizards
run? Croc's as fast as that. Only for a short distance, though.'
He
rolled himself a cigarette. 'Bloody awful animals, crocs. The big
ones. I don't know why they're protected. I nearly walked into one
last year. That's another way they get you — they
just lie doggo and you walk into them and bang! you're gone. This one
I struck wasn't hungry. He just stood up on his hind legs and
bellowed at me, like a bull. Frightened buggery out of me.'
'What'd
you do?'
'Blew
his guts out. Makes 'em easy to kill when they rear up like that.
Belly's the softest part. You can bounce a .303 off their backs if
you hit 'em at any sort of angle.'
You
never know how much to believe of what anybody tells you about
animals up north. I've heard dozens of stories about snakes chasing
and catching a man on a motorcycle, buffaloes that charged and
wrecked cars, pigs of unbelievable size and ferocity disembowelling
horses. However, my policeman seemed to know all about crocodiles.
'Should
hear a bull croc when they 're mating. Horrible sound. He bellows all
the time. It's not like an ordinary mating. The bull bails up a few
females in a creek and just rapes 'em. Rough as buggery, they are.
'Course, the female's just as bad. They lay their eggs and then hang
around for a long while and God help anything that goes near that
nest. Then they just bugger off and leave 'em. The baby croc comes
out of the shell snapping and growling and hissing like a young
dragon. Nasty brutes. Anyhow . . .'
He
stood up and
killed a man.'
'No.
But we always kill 'em if they take somebody. If we can.'
That
seemed to me like killing a tree because it dropped a branch on
somebody, but I didn't pursue the argument.
'Anyway,'
said Jack, 'he might have just got himself lost and be still
wandering around, or he might have shot through.'
'So
what are your plans?'
'Going
back to get instructions from the boss,' he said, standing up. 'Be
seeing you. If you happen to see him, don't forget to tell him I'm
looking for him. You'll know him because he'll have no clothes on,
probably. Be seeing you.'
'See
you.'
He
dropped in again next morning, ostensibly to ask again whether I had
seen the missing man, but really because he just liked dropping in.
I
had more or less worked the area dry for specimens, but I was
interested in hanging around to find out what had happened.
'My
boss reckons the setup's a bit crook,' he said. 'I've got to keep
nosing about until I find out what did happen to the bastard.'
'Does
your . . . boss . . . think it was a crocodile?'
'Should
be more signs if it was, he says. Fair enough. You see, the creek
near where his clothes were was pretty small — you
could step over it. If he was sitting in there and the croc got him,
you'd expect to find some blood and stuff on the banks — but
it might have all been washed away. Then if the croc got him on dry
land, there should be some traces around — until
the ants clean it up, of course. It's a pity he wasn't wearing his
clothes. Always something left when a stiff's been wearing clothes.'
'Do
many people get taken by crocodiles, then?'
'Nah.
Few of the Murri kids, old people. No, people die lots of ways out
here and then the dogs and the birds and the ants and the pigs clean
'em up pretty quickly — often
don't even find bones, but you usually get a bit of clothing. Now we
got all this bloke's clothing, but it looks as though he took
everything off himself. Even his wristwatch was in the pocket of his
pants.'
'How
exactly would a crocodile get him on dry land, or even in a little
creek? Surely he'd hear it coming.'
'Nah.
They can move like a galloping horse for a short distance. Seen one
jump out of the water over on the coast once and run after a bloody
great cow. She didn't have a chance. She caught wind of him all right
and started to gallop away, but he ran her down, grabbed her by the
back leg and dragged her into the water. Ever seen the big lizards
run? Croc's as fast as that. Only for a short distance, though.'
He
rolled himself a cigarette. 'Bloody awful animals, crocs. The big
ones. I don't know why they're protected. I nearly walked into one
last year. That's another way they get you — they
just lie doggo and you walk into them and bang! you're gone. This one
I struck wasn't hungry. He just stood up on his hind legs and
bellowed at me, like a bull. Frightened buggery out of me.'
'What'd
you do?'
'Blew
his guts out. Makes 'em easy to kill when they rear up like that.
Belly's the softest part. You can bounce a .303 off their backs if
you hit 'em at any sort of angle.'
You
never know how much to believe of what anybody tells you about
animals up north. I've heard dozens of stories about snakes chasing
and catching a man on a motorcycle, buffaloes that charged and
wrecked cars, pigs of unbelievable size and ferocity disembowelling
horses. However, my policeman seemed to know all about crocodiles.
'Should
hear a bull croc when they 're mating. Horrible sound. He bellows all
the time. It's not like an ordinary mating. The bull bails up a few
females in a creek and just rapes 'em. Rough as buggery, they are.
'Course, the female's just as bad. They lay their eggs and then hang
around for a long while and God help anything that goes near that
nest. Then they just bugger off and leave 'em. The baby croc comes
out of the shell snapping and growling and hissing like a young
dragon. Nasty brutes. Anyhow . . .'
He
stood up and
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