by Dave Leys
‘I bet we could outrun it.’ He looked cocky, but his lip quivered a little.
‘Not this bear,’ said Mr Mattius. ‘Apparently it moves like a lion, and it has claws on its paws that can rip the flesh from your knees. And when it sits on you,’ he said, his voice sinking to a whisper, ‘it’s so big and heavy that your stomach explodes from the weight.’
The boys looked at each other, and then at their father. Liam held his hands against his chest, while Dane curled his legs up.
‘Now boys,’ said Mr Mattius. ‘When you go to sleep tonight, I want you to be absolutely quiet. If the bear comes around and it hears one sound out of your tent, well …’
There was silence.
‘What?’ asked Liam with trepidation.
‘Snap snap!’ said Mr Mattius, clapping his hands to add dramatic effect. He was quite enjoying himself.
Liam and Dane crawled into their tent. They didn’t say a word. Mr Mattius smiled. He went into his own tent, lay down, and felt his whole body relax.
Five minutes later he heard something and his whole body tensed. Was that them? No, it must be frogs, or crickets. Then again a sound came out. The boys were giggling. Then a scream. Then another scream, and a laugh.
Mr Mattius got up. His teeth were clenched and his eyebrows bunched up. Okay, okay, so they wanted to push it? He went to his car and retrieved what he had gone into town for. He had hired it from a costume shop. Sniffling, he put it on. It was made of brown fur and felt, and as he slipped on the head his breathing became shallow. He looked in the side mirror of the car. He looked big, mean and scary.
Slowly he walked to the boys’ tent. He lifted up his arms and made a low growling sound. He gnashed his teeth. He jumped up and down.
Inside the orange tent the boys heard something. Liam looked up. In the silhouette he saw the shadow of something large and animalistic.
‘Dane,’ he whispered, ‘look!’
Dane got to his knees and looked out the window. The bear was lumbering along, scraping at the ground with its huge sharp paws, grinning in the moonlight with its razor-like teeth. ‘Oh no,’ he said. The bear growled and licked its lips. ‘I think it must have eaten Dad!’
Liam started to cry. ‘What do we do?’ he squeaked.
Dane reached into his bag, pulled out his phone, and dialled the number of the ranger. ‘Hello?’ he said. ‘There’s a huge bear outside our tent, and I think it’s swallowed our father.’
Ten minutes later the ranger crept up to the campsite. He could see the creature pawing at the boys’ tent, growling and shaking its legs.
‘Don’t worry, boys,’ he shouted. ‘I’ve got it.’
Mr Mattius looked around as the ranger brought the gun to his shoulder. Mr Mattius tried to say something but the head muffled his words. The ranger fired his gun and hit Mr Mattius in the stomach. The bear collapsed to the ground.
Liam and Dane crept out of their tent and looked at the fallen creature sprawled out in the dirt.
‘Did you …?’ asked Dane. His words trailed off.
‘Don’t worry, boys, ‘ said the ranger. ‘He’s not dead. I hit him with a tranquiliser dart. He’ll be out like a light for two days.’
They looked at the bear. Its furry stomach went up and down peacefully. Inside the suit, finally, Mr Mattius was asleep.
A New Species of Animal
The snow began to fall heavily as the three men trudged up the icy hill. It was cold, the kind of cold that got deep into your bones and made your breath come out in a gust of steam. The kind of cold that made your fridge, by comparison, look like it wasn’t trying very hard.
Professor Jenkins and Professor Phillips, both very intelligent men, had come to Antarctica to try to find a new species of animal. Cody Brown, not quite as intelligent as them, had come along to make sure the practical things got done. It was he who put up the tent each night, who made sure they camped out of the wind, who ensured they didn’t walk in circles. They were scientists, he was just a technician.
‘Professor Jenkins!’ cried Cody. He had just spotted something moving off in the distance. Was it a bird?
‘What is it, Cody?’ sighed Professor Jenkins, who was sick of the cold, sick of walking, and at that moment was daydreaming about being at home in a nice warm bath.
‘Up ahead,’ said Cody. ‘Isn’t that a ..?’
He didn’t have time to finish before the two scientists, almost slipping over in their haste, began to run. They grabbed at each other’s sleeves and skidded to a sudden stop as they got near to the moving thing. Whatever it was had been half covered in snow and was struggling to get free.
‘Jenkins, it’s a penguin. But what variety is it?’ whispered Professor Phillips. ‘We must examine it.’
‘I agree,’ said Professor Jenkins.
They leaned over and looked at the shape in front of them. Flipping its webbed feet up and down, it stared back at them. It had the most extraordinary yellow feathers that crested above its eyes like gigantic eyelashes. They circled around it, holding up magnifying glasses, measuring tapes and machines that went beep. They leaned this way and that to get a better look. They poked long black testing rods into its feathers and then jumped back as it snapped its beak at them. Then they retreated a few feet and talked in low murmurs to each other, turning to refer every now and then to a book on Antarctic species.
Cody, meanwhile, crept up to the poor little bird and patted its head before beginning to dig at the ice that had formed around it. Slowly it wriggled and began to move freely.
‘Jenkins,’ said Professor Phillips.
‘Yes,’ said Professor Jenkins.
‘I’m afraid that we in fact do not have a new species of animal here.’
‘No?’ said Professor Jenkins dejectedly. ‘What does it seem to be?’
Professor Phillips snapped the book shut. ‘It appears to be a Rockhopper Penguin. Eudyptes chrysocome.’
‘Ah,’ sighed Professor Jenkins.
Cody dug out one last piece of ice and the penguin slithered up onto its legs, cocked its head to look at him, blinked twice, and then ran away as fast as its little legs would move in the direction of the rocks, where it bounded from one to another.
‘Never mind,’ said Cody, turning to the two scientists, ‘I’m sure you’ll find a new animal soon enough.’ The two scientists didn’t answer him, but instead muttered to themselves as they began trudging ahead, shaking their heads in disappointment.
That night, however, as the three of them huddled in the tent eating baked beans out of the can, the professors seemed to be in a much better mood.
‘When we discover a new species of animal,’ declared Professor Jenkins confidently, ‘we’ll be famous.’ He closed his eyes, already imagining the accolades they would receive.
‘Yes,’ agreed Professor Phillips, nodding his head enthusiastically, ‘we’ll be on the cover of New Scientist magazine.’
‘And Nature magazine,’ added Professor Jenkins, ‘don’t forget that.’
‘Ah, yes,’ sighed Professor Phillips, ‘and then won’t we be important!’
The two scientists grinned at each other while Cody cleaned up the cans and arranged the bedding for the night.
On arising early the two professors were full of energy, ready to explore and discover, and they stared impatiently at Cody as he packed up the tent. Finally everything was ready and they set off along the coast. It was a clear morning and their spirits were high.
Around midday the weather began to worsen again with a bracing wind coming off the sea, and each man rubbed his hands together for warmth. Professor Jenkins and Professor Phillips were talking about who would get to name the new species upon discovery, the words tumbling out of their mouths, when again Cody spotted something. At first it looked like a large grey-white rock at the edge of the sea, but then Cody noticed it quivering slightly.
‘Professor Jenkins, Professor Phillips!’ he cried. ‘Look over there!’
They looked where he was pointing and as if they were one creature themselves made of four arms and four legs they scrambled towards it. What from a distance seemed to be a rock upon closer inspection had whiskers, black eyes and large flippers.
‘Fascinating,’ declared Professor Jenkins as he knelt in the snow and began to measure the creature’s girth. ‘It’s a seal, of course, but what variety could it be?’ It looked up at him and let out a low, husky bark, not unlike a dog. Its face, too, was like that of a dog, short and squat, while its fur was grey and white, with chocolate brown markings on its shoulders. Professor Phillips approached it from above, taking photographs and uploading them to his portable computer. They prodded it, clipped off one of its whiskers, lifted up and then let go of its flippers, testing them for bounce, and finally they even leant right in to smell its breath. Then once more they opened up their book of Antarctic species and began to leaf through it. Cody noticed that one of its flippers seemed to be caught on something, and as the professors consulted one another in earnest tones he felt the flipper, discovered there was some netting entangled over it, and carefully cut it away.
‘Phillips,’ said Professor Jenkins.
‘Yes,’ said Professor Phillips, a faint note of hope in his voice, ‘tell me. Is it a new species?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Professor Jenkins, and he crouched in despair. ‘What we have here is a Crabeater seal. Lobodon