Forest Spirit

by David Laing

  Jars nodded.

  ‘Come on then, get Snook and come with me. I’ll show you.’

  ‘It’s kinda cool how that wombat always keeps in front of us, eh, Jars,’ Snook said as they made their way towards the cave.

  Jars, who was slightly ahead of Snook, spoke without turning. ‘He always does that; he likes to lead the way.’ With the sound of Snook talking excitedly to the ranger behind her, Jars fell silent, content to be alone with her thoughts. What would happen to Quenton, now that he would almost certainly be without his father? Would he cope? And what about her uncle? Would he still have a job? Would he be able to buy the cray boat that he so badly wanted? The questions twisted and turned in her mind. If she had not come to Tasmania, none of this would have happened. She stopped suddenly, swivelling on her heel so that she faced Snook and the ranger, who were still chattering away to each other.

  ‘What’s going to happen now?’ she asked, raw anxiety in her voice. ‘To Quenton … and your dad … and me? Will I have to go away again? Your dad doesn’t like me, Snook. He more or less said that back at the camp.’

  Snook, legs apart, shook his finger in her direction. ‘Listen to me, you great sook, Quigley will be fine; I’ll even be nice to him. Anyway, who knows, with his old man locked up, he could change for the better. And as for my Dad, I reckon he’ll be able to buy that boat now; he’ll get it real cheap I’d say. You’ll be all right too. Dad was wrong about you.’

  The ranger didn’t let him finish. ‘Jars, I was going to tell you: I’ve been talking to Snook; he told me what really happened – everything, so don’t worry. Your uncle knows too. Snook told him back at the Grimshaw camp. You, my girl, are back in the good books. In addition, as for our Mr Quigley, your uncle got it out of him back there; it turns out he’s short on the money side. He’s been overspending in a big way. The smuggling racket was supposed to make things right, but thank goodness his wife found out what he was up to. It must have taken a lot of guts for her to inform on him. But enough of all that; there’s something else I want to ask you.’

  ‘What’s that, Mr Carter?’

  ‘Do you want to have Shadow? I’ve taken the new job and there’s no room for a dog where I’m going. Your uncle said it would be okay with him, so what do you say? Do you want to be Shadow’s new owner?’

  ‘Wow! Do I ever. That’s great.’

  ‘Okay, that’s settled, now, let’s get a move on and go see this Forest Spirit of yours.’

  The snakes were on the boulder at the cave’s entrance, but this time Jars didn’t hesitate. She wriggled past. The ranger, who seemed used to the presence of the snakes, followed. Snook faltered for a moment, but eventually summoned up the courage to enter. Once inside, the ranger swept the beam of his torch in a wide arc in front of them. Immediately, one wall lit up with the fiery lights of the glow-worms.

  ‘This is awesome!’ Snook said. ‘What a place!’

  ‘Come with me,’ Jars said, ‘there’s more.’ She showed Snook the underground stream, the stalagmites and stalactites, and finally, the rock carving.

  ‘Okay, Jars,’ the ranger said, ‘what do you think the circles are?’

  Jars stared at the figure. ‘I think the five dots are the stars – the Southern Cross. And those two other ones, they’re the Pointers.’

  The ranger slapped his forehead. ‘Of course, why didn’t I think of that?’

  ‘There’s something else,’ Jars went on. ‘The other markings, the bird tracks, all point in the one direction, and they lead to this final print of some other animal. I don’t know what animal, though.’

  ‘Yes, I see what you mean. But I know what it is.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll show you in a minute, but you go first. Tell me about the stars.’

  Snook and the ranger listened as Jars continued. ‘The two stars at the bottom of the drawing – the Pointers – are facing in this direction.’

  Snook scratched his head. ‘Pointing at what though? I don’t see nothin’ to point at.’

  Reg, who had moved towards the back wall of the cave, called to them. ‘Come over here. There’s something you should see as well.’

  More than a little curious, Jars and Snook picked their way over.

  ‘Look, this is what I wanted to show you.’

  Snook and Jars couldn’t believe their eyes. ‘They’re pups,’ Snook said. ‘What’re they doing out here?’

  ‘No,’ Reg replied, a slight quiver in his voice, ‘they’re not pups. They’re cubs. The large footprint in the painting belongs to an adult one of these.’

  ‘But what are they?’ Jars asked. ‘What kind of cubs?’

  Like soft toys, the cubs lay curled up, asleep. The ranger bent over and pointed at one. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘the tail’s what you might call rigid. It’s not flexible like a dog’s, and it’s tapered towards the end.’ He lifted the tail to demonstrate. ‘And look at its back. If you look closely, you can see the beginnings of dark stripes. You know what that means don’t you?’

  Jars and Snook both shook their heads.

  ‘This is a thylacine! A Tasmanian tiger!’

  ‘What!’ Snook said raising his voice. ‘That’s impossible. Everyone knows they’re extinct. They’ve been that way for about seventy years. They’re all gone now.’

  Reg smiled. ‘So they say, but I found these, didn’t I? I first saw the male about three months ago. Shadow and I were out doing our usual patrol of the area when bingo, there he was. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first. All I could do was stare, and I don’t mind telling you, I was shaking all over. He had a small animal in his mouth, so he must have been out hunting. Anyway, he disappeared into the side of the hill. When I investigated I saw that he’d gone into a cave – this cave.’

  Snook, disbelief still showing in his voice, went on. ‘So, if they are tigers, shouldn’t we tell someone?’

  ‘I’ve thought about that. Then I got to wondering. What good would it do? We’d end up with hordes of people tramping all over the place. If I were one of the tigers, I don’t think I’d appreciate that.’

  Jars, who had remained quiet, listening to the ranger’s words, stepped forward. She knelt down next to the cub. ‘The Pointers face this way, towards the tigers. This must have always been a breeding ground for them.’ Jars continued. ‘These could be the only tigers left in the whole world. They need to be protected. If we leave them alone they might even start a breeding colony. That’d really be something, wouldn’t it, Mr Carter?’

  Reg nodded. ‘It sure would, and we’d be the ones that made it possible – by making certain that they were left in peace.’

  Jars cast her eyes around the cave. ‘I wonder where the parents are?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Snook chimed in, ‘they’re kinda big, aren’t they?’

  ‘I dare say they won’t be too far away,’ Reg said. ‘They’re probably watching us now.’

  Snook nudged Jars. ‘Do you reckon they’re dangerous?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Snook. Earlier on, when I was here in the cave, I felt there was something watching me. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but later, when I saw the Forest Spirit, I thought it must have been him. Now I’m not so sure. It could have been the adult tigers. If it was, they didn’t front up to me then, so I reckon we’re safe now.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Snook said, ‘but I’m gonna keep an eye out. That’s for sure.’

  Jars turned to Reg. ‘I’ve just thought of something else, another reason we need to keep the tigers a secret. The Pointers are facing in this direction for a reason. Maybe tigers were sacred to the people. If that were the case, then the people would have watched over them, wouldn’t they? I think we should watch over them too.’

  The ranger placed the cub with the others. ‘Yes, Jars, but don’t forget, I won’t be here. It’ll be up to yourself and Snook to keep the secret, to be their guards.’

  ‘Just like how the wombat watches over them,’ Jars whispered.

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nbsp; Reg straightened. ‘Yes. Like he is now. He’s in the corner, over there.’ He pointed the beam of the torch towards a pair of red eyes. And remember, you have to help him.’

  Jars covered her eyes. She felt strange. A sudden compulsion had come over her, a desire to see the Forest Spirit one more time. She sensed that he was calling her. Silently, she left Snook and the ranger, who were still talking and looking at the cubs.

  She found herself standing in front of the cave drawing. Almost at once, the geometric figure began to fade and change until once again the familiar ancient face looked down on her. Before, the sight had frightened her. Not now. She and the Forest Spirit had been destined to meet. She knew that now; he had needed her. She had been his helper without really knowing.

  But why did he want to see her now? Her task had been completed, hadn’t it? The birds were safe now. She stared, not knowing what to expect.

  She didn’t expect what happened next.

  She found herself floating as though detached from her body. Her mind grew blank, and slowly she sank to the cave floor. Darkness followed, but somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she could hear the murmurings of the stream … the voice of the Forest Spirit.

  ‘The rocks are weeping. The rocks are weeping.’

  There was a certain sadness in the words. Her journey was not yet complete.

  Jars sat in the dappled shade of the ghost gum, leaning against its trunk. A soft breeze from the north-west brushed against her face, and with each whisper, each breath, the scents of the bush came to her – the musty dryness of the red earth, the sweet eucalyptus of the gum trees and the wet airiness of a coming storm.

  She could see as far as the lake – Jacana Billabong, and the winding dirt track that pointed towards the highway, one hundred kilometres to the west.

  The cockatoos were in their watching place, on the branches above, sitting silent and still, as though waiting for some great event. ‘You’ve never left my side, have you?’ Jars said, mouthing the words silently to the birds. ‘Always watching.’

  A crack, like distant thunder, came from the eastern end of the track. She turned her head, watching. A splash of red dust, like a billowing cloud, rose into the air.

  Then, like a dream inside a dream, Jars saw her brother, then her mother and father. Their faces and upper bodies appeared without warning, floating in the air directly in front of her. ‘Eric? Mum? Dad?’ she cried out without thinking. There was no reply. She continued to watch, refusing even to blink. They smiled and waved and disappeared as quickly as they had come.

  They were gone, but now she knew – they would always be with her. She would have memories, memories that would not be blown away like leaves in the wind. They would remain, caressed only by her thoughts. Her face glowed like the wings of a butterfly and she smiled.

  The buffalo lay next to her, his black nose almost hidden in the grass as he rested his head on the ground. His eyes were raised, watching the human next to him.

  He snorted as Jars reached out and rested her hand on his head. She looked down. Two sets of dark eyes met. At that moment she realised. An understanding between them had been reached. Neither had been at fault. The buffalo was a wild thing who lived each day by his instincts. That’s how he had survived from day to day. That was his way. She had been wrong to hate him for that. She knew that now.

  The cockatoos stirred. They fidgeted and rustled their wings, then, at some hidden signal, rose into the sky, circling and screeching so that every living creature could hear their voices.

  Jars smiled again. ‘The rocks will stop weeping now,’ she whispered to herself, listening as the breeze brought to her the faint but familiar sound of a dying vehicle that lay on its back, wheels turning.

  ‘Whup – Whup – Whup – Whup.’