Crocodyllus

"Crocodyllus" won a highly commended certificate in this year's Rolfe Boldrewood Literary Awards.
As there is now only a First Prize, this is equal to Second.

The judge enjoyed the change of point of view from the farmer to the crocodile.

CROCODYLLUS                                                     

 

The Buffalo Creek, the only pub in town, known to the locals as ‘The Wallow’, has the usual Friday after-work crowd. Four farmers and farm-hands are at the door-end of the bar, two council workers and the parks ranger are on stools, mid bar and two older men are at the far end, eyes glued to the Keno screen. Young Mickey with his tattooed arms and an ear-ring is playing a noisy game of pool with his mates and a couple of females are visible through the door to the lounge.

Bert leans on the door-end of the bar. The worry-lines on his weather beaten brow are accentuated by the sunlight streaming through the window. His face is drawn and tired.

“I lost another of my top heifers yesterday! The crocs are getting really bad.”

“It’s always the same just before the wet! They’re feeding up before the breeding season starts.” John finishes his drink and signals the barman for another.

“Pour one for Bert too! He needs it. He’s lost more stock to the crocs!”

Bert takes his fresh drink and raises his glass towards John; a tired smile on his face. Mickey looks up from the pool table, ears not missing much of the conversations around the bar.

“What yer lost, Bert?”

“Another one of my heifers went yesterday. I found the drag-marks on the bank where Two Mile Creek runs into the river.”

“It’s got to be a big croc to take a heifer down and you’ve lost three this month! I reckon you’ve got a killer croc there!” Mickey waves his pool cue in the air, and then grips it like a shot-gun as he runs across to the bar.

“Hey, guys, Bert’s got a killer croc! Let’s have a croc hunt this weekend!”

“Not so fast, young Mickey!” Josh, the National Parks and Wildlife Ranger slides off his stool and grips Mickey’s pretend shot-gun.

“First of all, the saltwater crocodile is a protected animal and secondly, we can’t have you and your mates ripping up the river bank with motorbikes and four wheel drives, while you’re waving loaded rifles and shot-guns around. That’s a sure recipe for a hospital-case, if not worse!” Josh gives Mickey a friendly push back towards the pool table.

The attention of the bar is centred on Josh. He looks along the bar to Bert.

“Bert, if you’re free tomorrow I’ll come out to your place and have a look at the river bank and creek. If it’s what it sounds like, I’ll see about setting a trap.”

 

***

I feel a comfortable warmth on my back as I lie on the bank at the edge of the river. My eyes almost shut in a lethargic half-slumber. The sun is low in the sky. I sense a movement. I open one eye and flare my nostrils to catch the scent. Cattle move towards the river. Four legged, plodding beasts, invading my territory!

I slither silently into the water.

The warmth on my back dissipates in the coolness. I am in my element. Without a ripple, I submerge and swim away from the bank. In the deeper water I rise slowly to the surface. My nostrils break first followed by my eyes. The small protrusions on the stippled surface are barely visible to an unsuspecting eye.

I can chase these creatures from my patch of river. All I have to do is swim ashore and rush up the bank. I am afraid of nothing! Deep inside me I feel the primal urge to hunt and eat. I drift, submerged, back towards the bank. I cautiously break the surface again and watch the cattle moving towards the water. A reflex flick of my tail keeps me in position against the slow movement of the river. There is no need to rush. The cattle will drink and graze on the river bank until the sun drops below the horizon.

There’s my mark! A sturdy young heifer; standing in the middle of the group at the water’s edge. Not too big but she’ll put up a bold fight when she feels my teeth. I am close to the bank. The late afternoon breeze makes swirling patterns on the river surface, aiding my stealthy approach. My front legs rest on the muddy bottom. I allow my rear to sink slowly until I have traction on the river bed with my back legs and tail.

I release all my pent-up energy in one violent burst. I leap forward with the water cascading from my head and shoulders. Cattle on either side roll their eyes in terror and bellow in fright as they buck away from me. My target stands mesmerised. She bellows and shakes her head as my jaws close over her upper foreleg. She attempts to back away and shake me free. I roll to the side and twist. She loses purchase as her body moves sideways and she rolls onto her back. I’ve done this before. Instinct takes over and I roll and drag my trophy into the water.

The river bank is clear. The other cattle have galloped into the bush and retreated from my territory. The river does not show the struggle for long. The turbulence like small whirlpools drifts down-stream and the surface returns quickly to its serene self.

 

***

The early morning sun sparkles on the dew clinging to the grass as Bert guides Josh to the mouth of the creek. The temperature and humidity are already rising, a sure sign of the approaching wet season. Josh stops the four wheel drive several metres from where the creek joins the river. Josh slings his camera around his neck as he leaves the vehicle and the two men walk to the river bank where Bert points out the drag-marks.

“It looks like you really have a big one here, Bert. No crocodile under four metres could drag a heifer like that! Look at the depth of those gouges in the mud.” Josh takes several pictures of the marks on the bank and then slowly walks along until he sees another sign.

“Here’s what I’m looking for. This is the spot where he lay in the sun before he took to the water.” Josh takes several more pictures. As he crouches down to get a close-up of the scratch marks, there is a swirling disturbance in the water less than a metre behind him. It goes unnoticed by the men as they concentrate on the signs on the ground.

“I’ll revise my estimate on the size of this fellow, Bert. There are the marks of his legs as he lay sunbathing. If you take away the scratch marks when he moved, the distance between those resting marks puts him close to six metres long!”

There is another swirl in the water behind them as the two men walk back towards the ranger’s vehicle. Josh stops and turns back. He takes a tape measure from his camera bag and lays it alongside the leg-marks on the bank.

“Nearly forgot that! I need something to show the size of this guy.” He flashes off two more shots before rolling up the tape and putting it back in the camera bag, along with the camera.

“Now we can go. I’ll send these shots of to head office with a request to trap this one and relocate him further away from a populated area.”

 

***

 

I like it when the sun comes up. I can go back to my spot on the bank and lie in the warm until it’s time to hunt and eat again. That cow was good last night. If I don’t catch anything else, it will keep me going for a while. What’s left is down there hooked under the rock shelf.

What’s that! I feel a vibration coming from the bank. That’s not normal! I cautiously break the surface. I see the source. It’s one of those steel vehicles.

The vibration has stopped. There’s movement. There are two men. They are coming into my territory! What are they doing? I submerge and wait.

I remember back to another time in another place. I reacted to the sounds of a fish in distress. When I got close I saw that the fish was being reeled in by a man at the water’s edge. He stepped into the water to reach the fish. It was too easy. I struck. There wasn’t much fight. I rolled under water until the man’s movements ceased. This was followed by a huge invasion of my territory. Vehicles were driving along the river bank and many boats with noisy propellers, ripping through the water. I moved downstream, staying well below the surface. When I reached the ocean I drifted with the current until I tasted the brackish flow from another river – This one.

I’ll have another look. My eyes just break the surface. One of the men is kneeling down, back towards me, an easy target. My eyes are assailed by a blinding, white flash. I can’t see! Submerge and cool my eyes. Go back to deeper water. My eyes slowly get better, I can see again. Swim back to the bank. Go slowly. Have another cautious look. They are walking away, back to the vehicle.

I’ll wait til the vibrations have gone before I get onto the bank.

The sun is warmer now. My nose is almost in the water. No intruders. The world is mine.

 

***

 

“They’re sending a trap down from the nature reserve. I’ll have it on Monday. I’ll come out in the afternoon and set it up.”

“That’s great news, Josh. This is one resident I won’t be sorry to see going somewhere else. See you on Monday.” The telephone goes dead and Bert hangs it back on the cradle.

“Trish, the Wildlife guys are coming on Monday to trap that croc!” Trish walks out of the laundry, throws her arms around Bert’s neck and gives him a loving kiss.

“That will take some of your stress away. I don’t like to see you like this. I hope they catch it quickly so we can get back to normal.” Bert disentangles himself from Trish’s embrace. “Come-on Trish, I’ve got work to do. I can’t stand here cuddling you all day!”

*

Josh and Bert watch Karl, the ‘crocodile expert’ from the reserve, as he paces the riverbank and the creek looking for signs. He walks back to where they are standing beside the truck.

“I’m going to tell you what you already know. This is a big one, could be six metres, but this trap will handle him, if we can get him inside. This bank and a few metres up the creek is where he has marked his territory. He’s taken at least two cows from that dip over there where they come to drink. There is no place on the bank or in the dip that we could conceal the trap effectively, so I’m going to set it up in the creek, where there is a bit of cover.”

The trap is pulled from the truck and man-handled down to the creek. Josh and the Wildlife team drag it into the creek where a small stand of mangroves is overhanging the water.

“That should hold him!” Josh clambers up the creek bank with mud up to waist level on his waders. Some other members of the team have even more mud.

“It’s a good job he didn’t come for a visit, some of you may not be here now!” Bert laughs uneasily.

Karl looks up as he peels off his waders.

“Oh! He’s been watching us. I saw several swirls just off the mouth of the creek. I was ready to call us out of the water if he got any closer.”

“Okay, what’s next?” Bert starts throwing the waders into the back of the truck.

“In the back of my ute I’ve got a young goat. I’ll tether him on the bank, just outside the trap. The trap appears to the croc to be a clear tunnel through the mangroves to the goat. When the croc is in the centre of the trap, both ends are triggered and he’s sealed inside. That’s the theory anyway.” Karl fetches the goat and tethers it on a short running lead, between two mangrove roots.

“With all this activity, he may not come in tonight, but you never know with saltwater crocodiles. They think they’re invincible! We’ll be back in the morning to check the trap.” The Wildlife team get into the truck and Josh and Bert climb into the ute with Karl.

 

***

They’ve gone. The vibration of the vehicles disappeared long ago. No signs of men anywhere along the bank. There’s a goat in the creek and the cattle are up on the hill. I wonder what they were doing in the creek. I’ll have a closer look. I swim carefully into the creek mouth. I surface for a look around. Nothing. There’s only the goat in the mangroves. It’s very tempting. I leave the creek and swim parallel to the bank, up the river. The cattle are still up on the hill. I’ll go back and see if the goat is still there. It is! Instinct takes over. I swim towards the goat. My legs are among the mangrove roots. I get ready for the lunge at the goat. Tail and back legs explode; my forward motion is stopped by a steel grid. I struggle to go backwards. I am stopped again. What has happened? I thrash around but I am securely held. I cannot escape! Eventually, I quieten down and lie still.

Men are coming. My trap is dragged from the creek. A rope is put over my muzzle. I thrash and roll. The rope gets tighter. A wet sack is put over my head. There is movement. I don’t know where I am.

Men are close to me again. The sack is removed and the rope on my muzzle is cut off. I open and close my jaws a few times. The front of the trap opens. I see water. I take a tentative step. I’m not attacked. I take another step. I rush for the water and dive down until I settle on a hard bottom. I stay there for a long time.

The sun is filtering down through the water. I surface. There is a grassed area. I climb slowly out of the water. There is a rock wall past the grass. A man appears. He has some meat hanging on a stick. He thrusts it towards me. I lunge at him. He steps quickly back. There are faces on top of the wall. They are making noises. The more I lunge, the louder the noise. I snap my jaws and grab the meat. I retreat into the water – my territory!

Maybe one day I’ll catch the man!

My new life in the zoo has its benefits.