Read Forest Spirit Online

Authors: David Laing

Tags: #Children, #Young Adults

Forest Spirit (11 page)

BOOK: Forest Spirit
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After the meal, Jars, closely followed by Shadow, walked down to the edge of the lake. Its waters were grey in the fading light of the evening. A westerly breeze now blew over its surface, bringing with it a coolness that made her shiver. Ignoring the cold, she gazed absently over the lake, listening to the quarking of the frogs as they lay hidden on the shore among the weed and rocks.

Snook, who had seen her leave, quickly went after her. ‘It doesn't add up,' he said to her back as she continued to watch over the lake. ‘I heard Dad yelling at you, telling you off, but it's hard to believe. I mean, I've only known you for what seems like a minute, but, hell, you don't seem the type to do what he says you did. So, is it true what Dad said, or did something else actually go on out there?'

Jars turned to face Snook. ‘It doesn't matter.'

‘Yes, it does, something else did happen, didn't it? I can tell. And I'm gonna find out what it was. And if I'm any judge, Quigley had a hand in there, somehow.' He walked over to her side. ‘Am I right or what?'

Jars rubbed Shadow's ear, then sighed. She didn't want to tell him. If she did, Snook would confront Quenton and that would cause more strife. She didn't want that. It was best to leave things as they were.

‘Quenton would get into trouble with your dad if I told you.'

‘Why are you so worried about Quigley? You know he's a waste of space.'

‘If your dad tells him off, he'll make up a lie to tell his father when we go back to Cray Bay. I know what Quenton's like now. He'd do that for sure, convince his father that he was the perfect little angel and that you and I were the villains. Then your dad would be put into an awkward situation with Mr Quigley – especially since he wants to buy the cray boat.'

‘Jars, there's no doubt about it, you're either too good to be true or just plain stupid. Look, I don't really care what the little wart does. I don't care what his old man thinks either. But okay, if that's what you want, I suppose I can keep quiet. I won't tell Dad, but if he's been as big an idiot as I reckon he's been, he'll cop it … somehow. Now, seeing that I've promised to keep your little secret, let's have it. What really happened?'

Jars hesitated for a moment as if still making up her mind, then, taking a deep breath, she told Snook – about finding Quenton, about the wombat, the cave and the ghostly figure.

When she had finished, Snook looked at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘You're serious aren't you? What you told me about Quigley, I can believe, but that stuff about a spirit, or whatever, is that really true? I mean, you told me before you'd seen a spook, or whatever, in a sort of dream, but now you're saying …'

Snook paused as if gathering his thoughts. ‘Now you're saying you really did see a … a ghost? That what you've been telling me is really true?' Jars nodded. Snook took a pace forward and slapped Jars hard on the back, making her stumble forward. ‘Awesome! It is kinda hard to believe, but, well, I suppose I do. You couldn't just make up a story like that.' Without warning, he punched the palm of his hand with a fist. ‘But I know one thing for certain. We have gotta tell Dad about Quigley. He can't let you take the blame for something he did. I mean, how low can you get?'

‘No, just leave it, it's over now.' Jars' eyes drifted over the lake. The mountains were growing black as they swallowed the last rays of the sun. ‘I – I'll just be more careful from now on.'

Even in the half-light, she could make out the first of the stars as they appeared in the sky. She watched as her favourite constellation formed in the darkness. It was clearly visible, far to the south – the Southern Cross, brightening the sky with its icy light.

Looking away, she turned to Snook. ‘Let's get back,' she said, starting off. ‘It's cold.' She paused. ‘Snook,' her voice barely a whisper, ‘over there, in the forest. Lights.'

Snook followed the direction of her gaze and there, flickering through the blanket of trees, was the unmistakable yellow light of a torch. ‘C'mon,' Snook said, walking quickly towards the camp. ‘We'd better tell Dad.'

‘There could easily be a logical explanation,' Snook's dad said when they told him about the lights. ‘Although I have to admit, it's a bit odd. Anyway, let's sleep on it. We'll all go for a drive into town tomorrow. Reg should be back by then so we can let him know what you saw. He might want to look into it.'

Tucked in her sleeping bag, Jars didn't hear the soft patter of rain on the canvas, and for once the images of the cave and the ghost did not disturb her. She slept soundly.

That is, until a noise, like a sharp yell, shattered her sleep. She sprang awake, and Shadow, who had been lying on the floor near her side, let out a low growl.

Lying perfectly still, she listened; the rain had gone and the night was silent, except for the faint breathing of Snook and his father, who were in a separate compartment.

However, there had been something … a noise, loud and sudden, like someone cursing when they bang their finger with a hammer.

She strained to hear it again. Probably a wallaby, she decided, or one of those Tasmanian devils Snook had told her about. Yes, that would be it. Snook said their growl was high-pitched, like a human screaming. Satisfied, she snuggled into her sleeping bag once more. It wasn't long before she fell asleep again.

Jars was the first to awaken. She unzipped her sleeping bag and let her eyes wander around her small section of the tent. She squinted, trying to see through the greyness of early morning. At first she didn't realise where she was. Then she came fully awake and remembered. She also remembered waking during the night, and the noise that had disturbed her sleep. She rolled off the camp-stretcher and dressed quickly, anxious to have a good look around the campsite. Maybe there would be a clue that explained what she had heard, like animal tracks. Then I'll light the fire, she decided. Make breakfast. Her uncle would like that.

Unzipping the tent flap, she stepped outside. Shadow padded behind her. A crisp, cooling breeze had rippled into life during the night. She shivered and rubbed her hands together to warm them, then stood watching as the gusting wind scuffed the lake's surface.

Shadow immediately began to run around, stopping every now and then to sniff the ground. That's strange, she thought, he's never done that before. He stopped and scratched at the ground near her tent. Curious, she walked over.

At her feet, directly in front of her, were footprints that should not have been there.

Narrowing her eyes, she studied the prints. There were two sets and they belonged to strangers. She was certain of that. Her mother and even the station hands had taught her how to read the signs that people and animals left behind.

Did they somehow tie in with the lights she and Snook had seen? Was the sense of being followed yesterday, after leaving the cave, part of it too? She bit her lip and gazed in the direction of the forest, then towards the tent where her uncle and Snook still slept. I've got to tell them, she said to herself. They have to know.

She hurried over and was about to enter when Snook came out, yawning and rubbing his eyes. ‘What's up?' He gave Jars a questioning look. ‘Something bothering you, or what?'

Jars quickly told Snook about what she had found.

‘You mean some low-life was here … last night?'

‘I found two sets of prints, Snook. It rained last night, making the ground soft. Someone was walking around the camp.' Jars nodded in the direction of the tent. ‘We'd better tell your dad.'

‘Yeah, we'll do that … when he gets up. There's no real hurry.'

Jars was about to disagree when she heard a noise coming from Quenton's tent. She touched Snook on the arm. ‘Did you hear that – a sort of moaning sound? We'd better check it out. Make sure Quenton's okay.'

Snook nodded. ‘Yeah, I heard it. He's probably dreaming about stuffing himself with cream cake or something. But yeah, I suppose we can have a look – see what's bothering him.'

Jars, followed by Snook, walked over to Quenton's tent. ‘Are you okay?' Jars called through a gap in the tent flap.

A whuffling, groaning sound came from inside the tent. ‘Snook, something's wrong.'

Snook, who had been standing behind Jars, leaned forward. ‘Hey, Quigley, what's goin' on? You havin' a nightmare, or what?'

Jars reached through the gap and unzipped the flap of the tent. She stepped inside. ‘Quenton, what's …?' She stopped in mid sentence.

Quenton was lying on his back, a blue eiderdown sleeping bag zipped to his chin. His eyes, wide and staring, darted from side to side. ‘Do something,' he whispered, his voice trembling. ‘There's a snake in my sleeping bag.'

Snook stepped forward and rubbed his chin as though deep in thought. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Y-yes. It – it's at the bottom of my sleeping bag, near my feet. I – I can feel it.'

Jars prodded Snook in the ribs. ‘Go and get your dad. Quick!'

Drops of oily sweat broke out on Quenton's forehead and his eyes grew even wider.

Snook made for the exit.

‘Hurry back with your dad,' Jars called out, ‘we have to help him.'

Snook stopped and turned, ‘There's no time to get Dad. He'd have to get dressed and everything. We'll have to handle it … as soon as I find a stick.'

Jars stared after Snook as he ducked through the tent flap and disappeared outside. She turned to Quenton. ‘Don't worry – we'll fix everything as soon as Snook comes back.'

‘Right,' Snook said as he came into the tent carrying a long stick. ‘You whip the sleeping bag down real quick and I'll clobber the snake with this.' He waved the stick in the air.

Quenton, lips trembling, looked at Snook, then Jars. ‘No,' he pleaded, ‘get your dad. H-he'd be better.'

Ignoring him, Snook raised the stick in the air and nodded to Jars. ‘Ready when you are.' Quenton groaned. ‘Don't worry Quigley; it might just be a whip snake. They're not very poisonous.'

Jars hesitated. ‘Are you sure about this, Snook? If something goes wrong …'

‘Nothin's gonna go wrong.' He nodded to Jars. ‘Let 'er rip. Now!'

Quenton's lips moved as though he was trying to say something but nothing came out. Jars leant over him and unzipped the sleeping bag. Then with a quick jerk, she whipped it away. ‘Ahhh!' Quenton scrambled to his feet and scurried behind her. ‘Where is it?' he yelled in a shrill voice. ‘Where's the snake?'

A wide grin spread across Snook's face. ‘There,' he said, pointing to the ground. ‘There's your snake. A great big skink!'

They watched as the lizard, no longer than a pencil, hurried towards the tent's opening. Snook laughed. ‘The poor little thing. I reckon you gave it a right scare.'

Quenton tightened the cord on his pyjamas then wiped his eyes. ‘You don't have to laugh. It's not funny. I could have died.'

Snook tossed the stick to the ground and waved a hand in the air. ‘Ah, can it, you were just lucky we were around to save you.' Then, eyes still laughing, he added, ‘And by the way, I like what you're wearing. What do you reckon, Jars? They suit him don't they?'

Jars stepped back and looked at Quenton. She couldn't help smiling. His pyjamas were silk, bright red and dotted with pictures of tiny brown koalas. Suddenly, her face became serious. She walked over to Snook, grabbed him by the arm and pushed him outside. ‘There's just one thing I want to know, Snook Kelly, and that is how that lizard got into Quenton's sleeping bag?'

‘Uh?'

‘You know what I mean.' Jars met Snook's eyes. ‘Did you put it there?'

‘No, I wouldn't do a thing like that.'

‘But you laughed.'

‘Well, you gotta admit, seeing that little skink and Quigley in his flash pyjamas was a funny sight. But you know, I can't help thinking about something else.'

‘What's that?'

‘Have you ever heard of karma?'

‘No,' Jars said, ‘I don't think so.'

‘Dad told me once. It means when you do something bad, something bad will happen to you. The same goes for doing something good.'

‘So, because Quenton told lies about me, this karma thing punished him for it?'

‘That's what I reckon. Anyway, I gotta go get some wood for the fire. Dad'll be awake soon.'

Jars watched as he strode towards the forest. She couldn't help smiling. She had to admit, it was funny. As long as Quenton doesn't think it was Snook who put the lizard in his bed, she said to herself. He'd be seriously ticked off if he did. Then there would be more trouble.

BOOK: Forest Spirit
12.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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