Return of the Fox

by Pat Clarke

  ‘It was one morning about a week ago and Lou and I were out foraging with the Malleefowl. We decided to head home, but Marnie and Marty wanted to stay longer. They asked if we would check their nest on the way back. Cousin Marnie was anxious about her last batch of eggs and she expected them to hatch any day.

  ‘Of course we agreed. We were only too pleased to help. They have been so kind to us; it was the least we could do.

  ‘When we arrived back at the mound, we could hardly believe our eyes. On top of the mound, digging away, swishing his enormous tail, and making a terrible mess, was this gigantic goanna. We were absolutely horrified!’

  ‘Good heavens! What did you do?’ asked Sheila

  ‘I didn’t do anything. I was shell-shocked!’ said Zelma. ‘But you should have seen Louise! She raced up to the top of the mound, looked the goanna squarely in the eyes and shouted, “STOP! What do you think you’re doing?”

  ‘“Minding my own business,” was his cheeky reply. “Why don’t you mind yours?”

  ‘Well, that infuriated Louise. “This is my business,” she said, stamping her foot and glaring at him. “This mound belongs to our relations. It’s their home and it’s their babies you’re trying to steal!”

  ‘“What do you mean, babies! There are only eggs buried under all this rubbish.”

  ‘That made Louise even angrier. “Don’t you know anything?” she shouted. “Don’t you know that Malleefowl are an endangered species? And that the chance of any of their eggs hatching into chicks and becoming fully grown is rare enough as it is? It certainly doesn’t help if creatures like you ruin any chance they have of surviving. They could become extinct … like the Tasmanian tiger … and dinosaurs … and it would be your fault! How would you like that?”

  ‘I could hardly believe it,’ Thelma said, cackling at the memory. ‘The goanna seemed genuinely taken aback. He stopped digging and came down from the mound. Louise followed him. She wasn’t through yet. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she told him. “Those poor little eggs are totally helpless! You’re just a big bully!”

  ‘I was surprised he didn’t just ignore her or even attack both of us. But that wasn’t the case at all. He was just full of apologies. Eggs were his favourite food, he said, and he had no idea that left alone they’d become chicks and then grown-up Malleefowl.

  ‘Also he certainly didn’t want to be responsible for the extinction of any species. How could he make it up to the Malleefowl family, he wanted to know?

  ‘“Well,” Louise said, “we could tidy up the mound so that when Marnie and Marty come home, they won’t know what happened.”

  ‘And so that’s what we did.

  ‘The goanna’s name was Clancy. He turned out to be a very likable creature — he kept saying how sorry he was and he looked so miserable that Louise forgave him. You know how soft-hearted she is, Sheila! She even laid an egg for him as a special treat (after explaining it was okay to eat, seeing as how it would never turn into a baby chick).

  ‘So that’s the story of Clancy,’ said Zelma, finishing her tale. She stretched, gave a big yawn and added, ‘Oh … I nearly forgot to mention! That’s when he offered to help us anytime we needed it.’

  Zelma smiled at her friends. The story-telling had been a good idea, she thought. Both hens were looking very drowsy and she was starting to nod off herself.

  The tale had taken their minds off their worries and perhaps now they would get a good night’s sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  At daylight the next morning, Rover the barking owl, Clancy the goanna, and the three hens arrived at the outskirts of the wildlife refuge where Ma Turner lived.

  Rover decided to take a quick flight around the area to check for news. He noticed Maggie Magpie in a tree nearby but chose to avoid her. Although she was harmless and meant well, she was also very talkative and something of a busybody, as he told Zelma. He would much rather spend the time looking for Elvis, and finding out exactly what happened, than waste time hearing all the latest rumours and gossip.

  Maggie was in earshot and overheard the owl’s comments. She was annoyed and very upset about being called a ‘busybody’ and determined to keep any information she had to herself in future.

  After Rover’s departure, Zelma and Louise helped Sheila onto Clancy’s back and the party continued on their way.

  They were getting close to their destination, when Clancy suddenly dropped a bombshell. ‘Sorry, ladies,’ he announced suddenly, ‘but this is as far as I can go. I’m afraid you’ll have to manage without me from now on.’

  The hens looked at him in astonishment Why pull out now, when they were almost there?

  Clancy tried to explain. ‘If I get any closer to Ma Turner’s place, you’ve no idea the ruckus it will cause.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Louise. ‘Is Ma Turner scared of goannas, or something?’

  Clancy turned a deep shade of green in embarrassment. ‘It’s not her that’s the problem. It’s the rooster — Eggie.’

  ‘A rooster! Surely you’re not afraid of him? And why is he called Eggie?’

  ‘It’s short for Egbert, and no, I’m not afraid of him. He’s the problem. He goes totally berserk just at the mention of a goanna, let alone if he sees one. It’s his worst nightmare!’

  The three chooks were full of questions but Clancy seemed reluctant to carry on with the conversation.

  He was saved by the sudden appearance of Rover. The owl landed on a branch just above their heads. ‘No news yet, I’m afraid,’ he said, shaking his head sadly.

  Clancy made his farewells. ‘Sorry I can’t stay any longer, but now Rover’s here, he can fill you in on the rest of the story. Good-bye and good luck!’

  Chapter Eight

  Rover was happy to continue the tale.

  ‘Eggie suffers from what they call “trauma”, meaning something happened to him that was so bad, it has affected him all his life.’

  The hens were agog with curiosity. What was the terrible event that had caused this trauma?

  ‘Well, what happened is this,’ explained Rover. ‘Eggie was still in his shell and waiting to be hatched when the terrible event occurred. His mother, Dulcie, was sitting on a nest of three eggs, one of which was Eggie, and she was frightened off by a large goanna.

  ‘And no, it wasn’t Clancy, in case you are wondering. Anyway, she squawked in terror and made such a racket that Ma Turner heard and came running, swinging a broom and yelling at the top of her voice. In his hurry to get away, the goanna swallowed the three eggs whole, with no time to chomp them up or digest them.’

  ‘Ma Turner was really angry! She grabbed the goanna by his tail, swung him round over her head, and then shook him up and down until the eggs flew out.

  ‘The first two smashed on the ground. But the third, the one that contained Eggie, landed in a sandy patch of ground and didn’t break. Ma Turner let go of the goanna, rescued the egg and replaced it in the nest. Meanwhile, the goanna high-tailed it out of there as fast as his legs could carry him.

  ‘Poor Dulcie! She was shaking with fright, but hurried back to the nest to watch over her sole remaining chick. Within minutes, the shell began to crack open and baby Egbert came into the world. He was a very timid little rooster and it was obvious he had been badly affected by his unhappy start in life.’

  ‘What a sad story,’ cried the soft-hearted Louise.

  ‘That’s not all, I’m afraid,’ Rover went on. ‘Dulcie was affected too. She got such a shock that she never, ever, laid another egg.

  ‘Eggie was her only child and she spoilt him terribly. It’s such a shame, you know. He’s a kindly bird but he’s scared of his own shadow and so terrified of goannas that he goes crazy if he sees one!

  ‘So, there you have it,’ said Rover. ‘That’s the reason Clancy didn’t want to hang around!’

  All three hens clucked in sympathy. Poor Dulcie! Poor Eggie!

  Zelma realised they now had a problem. ‘But how are w
e going to take Sheila the rest of the way?’

  ‘Oh, that’s easily solved,’ said Rover. ‘One of you can stay with Sheila while the other goes to find Bazza the dingo and bring him back here.’

  Zelma wasn’t keen on the idea. ‘A dingo! I’ve never met one, but I’ve heard they’re pretty dangerous.’

  ‘Not this one,’ Rover soothed. ‘He’s as tame as can be – all bark and no bite.’

  ‘But … how can Bazza help?’ Louise was having difficulty trying to imagine Sheila riding on a dingo’s back.

  ‘Once Bazza sees Sheila, he’ll go and get Ma Turner and everything will be fine. Meanwhile,’ Rover said, ‘I’ll keep looking for Elvis, but I’ll stay in touch. I know where to find you.’

  ‘Right,’ said Zelma, taking charge. ‘I’ll go look for this dingo while you stay here, Louise.’ And without further ado, she headed off into the bushes to find the dingo called Bazza.

  Chapter Nine

  For the two chooks left behind, time dragged slowly. Rover had flown off shortly after Clancy’s departure, so they were quite alone.

  When Zelma finally returned, she was accompanied not only by the dingo, but by three noisy brown-and-white chooks.

  Sheila could hardly believe her eyes!

  The three newcomers, introduced as Meryl, Beryl and Cheryl, were the very same chickens bought by Ma Turner on that day, long ago, when Sheila lost her eye and gained an eye-patch.

  The hens, all grown up now, remembered Sheila well. They clustered around her excitedly, recalling happy memories of their childhood on the farm and expressing their delight at meeting up with her again.

  Now that Sheila had company, Zelma thought it best that she and Louise should leave before Ma Turner turned up.

  ‘Just in case she feels she should return us to the farm’, she explained. ‘She’ll be surprised enough as it is when she sees Sheila.’

  The triplets clamoured for a group hug, and after a few tears and lots of laughter, the two hens trotted off towards the forest, safe in the knowledge that their friend would be well looked after.

  Bazza did not stay long. After casting a quick eye over Sheila and realising her injuries prevented her from walking, he disappeared and returned sometime later with his mistress.

  Ma Turner shook her head in astonishment when she saw the injured hen lying on the ground.

  ‘The one-eyed chook from MacDougall’s farm! How on earth did you get here? And these injuries? What happened to you?’ (She didn’t really expect an answer, of course. In fact, she would have got an awful shock if Sheila had actually replied!)

  Ma Turner continued talking to herself. ‘I’d best put her with the other bird. They’ll be company for each other and, who knows, the eagle may yet pull through.’

  Bazza gave a soft growl as if agreeing that it was all a big puzzle. Sheila’s heart leapt. An injured bird ... an eagle! It had to be Elvis! Her heart thumped so hard, she thought it might burst, but she tried to remain calm and not get her hopes up too high.

  The old lady picked up Sheila and, cradling the hen close to her chest, she made her way back through the bushes that led to the campsite. Trailing close behind came the overexcited and noisy triplets, Meryl, Beryl and Cheryl, and last but not least, Bazza the dingo.

  Was there going to be a happy ending after all?

  Chapter Ten

  Elvis lay on a low wooden bench, along with several other injured creatures. The old woman placed Sheila down beside him. The eagle was in very bad shape — bloodied and bruised, with one wing bandaged and the other held together by band-aids. Sheila felt sure he would recover now that she was there to watch over him. She softly whispered in his ear. Tears rolling down from her one good eye splashed onto his mangled feathers. He stirred, heaved a long sigh and opened an eye.

  It was the first sound he had made since Ma Turner rescued him.

  She was astounded! ‘Well, I never! It seems I was right to think they would be company for each other. It’s certainly very odd, though. An eagle and a chook? What an unlikely couple!’

  Sheila smiled. If only she knew!

  Chapter Eleven

  Can a fox be trusted? It seems not!

  When Rufus was banished from the Goonoo Forest, he promised never to return. At the time he probably meant it, but as the weeks went by, the crafty old fox convinced himself that the promise meant nothing, that he was terribly clever, and that he had tricked his enemies into believing him.

  Foxes aren’t called cunning and sly for no reason, and this fox had learned quite a few lessons from his first encounter with Elvis the wedge-tailed eagle and the chooks, Sheila, Zelma and Louise. Rufus vowed that if he ever got another chance to take them, nothing would stand in his way.

  So when the rumour of Elvis’s death finally reached the faraway forest where Rufus now lived, he could hardly believe it. His arch enemy was dead!

  Yippeee! This meant he could finally go home!

  The wily old fox’s grin grew wider and wider at the thought of what was in store for the chooks, once he got hold of them. It was so long since he’d dined on chicken that he’d almost forgotten the taste. He drooled at the thought of sinking his teeth into those nice, plump chicken thighs and sucking on the bones afterwards. He could hardly wait!

  His tummy rumbled in anticipation as he stealthily crept off towards his old stamping ground, the Goonoo Forest.

  ‘Revenge is sweet!’ he howled triumphantly.

  Chapter Twelve

  If Rufus had been half as smart as he thought he was, he would have known that rumours are not necessarily facts and waited until he knew for certain that Elvis was dead.

  As it was, he only found out the truth when he reached the Goonoo Forest sometime later and overheard two kookaburras discussing the matter. According to them, Elvis and Sheila had indeed been injured, but were slowly recovering under the care of an old lady who lived somewhere deep in the forest.

  Rufus bared his teeth and howled with disappointment.

  He’d counted on Elvis being dead!

  After a while he calmed down. After all, the seriously weakened birds would hardly be a threat, he told himself. Okay, so he would have to deal with the old lady. But how hard could that be? Old ladies were afraid of mice, Rufus knew, so imagine how terrified she would be to see a fox!

  It took much longer than Rufus expected to reach his final destination — Ma Turner’s campsite. He hid during the day and only travelled at night. This had slowed him down quite a lot. He got lost a few times too, which didn’t help, and asking for directions was not an option; he didn’t want word of his presence in the forest to get back to his prey and put them on their guard. He wanted to surprise them!

  The fox gave an evil grin. He loved surprises!

  Meanwhile, he would lie low and plan his next move. He would not hurry. He would simply wait for the right opportunity.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sheila was very pleased with her own recovery. She felt as good as new and was back to being her happy and cheerful self again. Her leg was in a splint made from a paddle pop stick and she joked about being a ‘proper pirate’ now, ‘with a wooden leg and all’.

  She even had a brand new eye-patch that Ma Turner had made from a dark blue material patterned with tiny stars.

  Elvis was sleeping, so Sheila decided it was a good time to visit Eggie the rooster and his mother, Dulcie. Their home was a rusty old car just a short distance from Ma Turner’s caravan. The doors of the car were all jammed shut, and there was no glass in the windows, making it very convenient for the two of them to hop in and out. It also provided some shelter from the weather and was quite cosy inside.

  Eggie and his mother were foraging for their breakfast in a clearing nearby. Dulcie spotted Sheila straight away and rushed over to greet her visitor.

  ‘I’m EGGs-tremely happy and EGGs-cited to meet you,’ she cackled. ‘Please EGGs-cuse us for not greeting you before this, but we didn’t want to tire you out. You must b
e EGGs-hausted.’ She paused for a moment, then added, ‘If you do EGGs-actly as Ma Turner says, you will make an EGGs-cellent recovery and will EGGs-cede all EGGs-pectations.’

  Sheila was astounded at Dulcie’s way of speaking … until she remembered that both mother and son had been traumatised at the time of his birth. Dulcie had never laid an egg since that day and was affected as badly as Eggie, although in a different way.

  After a few minutes, Dulcie called Eggie over and introduced him.

  She then wandered off and left the two of them together.

  The rooster was rather shy at first but gradually became more confident, chatting away happily and listening to Sheila’s stories of farm life.

  ‘I’d love to live on a farm and have lots of hens and chickens to look after,’ he sighed. ‘But that’s hardly likely to happen. I suppose everyone’s told you what a coward I am.’

  Eggie bowed his head and shuffled his feet in the dirt. ‘I’m sure I would be much better if only I wasn’t so scared of those ... you know, those big, scaly monsters ... those horrible dragons that eat eggs ...’

  The rooster’s face turned white at the mere thought of a goanna. He began to shiver and shake.

  ‘Shh, shh,’ soothed Sheila. ‘Don’t get yourself upset. Just close your eyes, breathe slowly, and count to a hundred.’

  ‘I only know up to twenty.’

  ‘Well, when you get to twenty, start again and do that five times over.’

  Sheila waited patiently until the counting was finished. Eggie had been pacing briskly up and down for the first lot of numbers, but gradually slowed down as he neared the end. The colour returned to his face and the shaking stopped.