The Killer Koala Read Free Page B

shallow
troughs made by crocodile tails with footmarks on either side.
    'By
jove, there's at least four females here,' said Roger
enthusiastically. And you can see how big the bull must be.' He
pointed at a couple of tracks made up of much bigger troughs and
footmarks than the others. 'He could be six or seven metres long.'
    'Well,
a few Aborigines and on with the job, eh?' I fiddled with my gun.
    'No
hurry,' said Roger. 'You see, what happens is that the bull finds
place like this and then waits until females come past. When one
does, he forces it in here and keeps it here. By the time the mating
season's over he might have eight or ten females penned up.'
    'So
what's he doing now — waiting
on the bottom looking at us?'
    'No,
I shouldn't think so,' said Roger. 'He's probably out in the main
stream waiting for another female.'
    'Why
do you say that?'
    'Well,
if he was in here he would probably have made his presence felt.
Bulls tend to be a bit aggressive in the mating season.'
    I
thought for a moment. 'Roger,' I said very clearly, 'in view of the
fact that we are in a very small, grossly overloaded boat, surrounded
by cliffs a lizard couldn't climb, in a lagoon infested with female
crocodiles, with a sex-mad bull about to return in a moment — in
view of all that, don't you think it's time to get the bloody hell
out of here?'
    Roger
looked at me, frowning. 'You know, you could be right,' he said. 'It
could be quite dangerous in here.' So to my great relief we pushed
the boat off the sand and headed for the gap leading back to the
river.
    'But
what a find!' Roger was saying. 'We'll get back here with some
helpers and net the whole place . . .'
    We
were almost at the entrance to the lagoon when it seemed to blow up
in our faces. Great spurts of water rose high in the air. Vast clouds
of spray swept across us. Small waves perilously rocked our boat.
Strange black shapes were writhing in the watery turmoil ahead and
there was a succession of mind-shattering bellows of such force and
ferocity that they seemed to come from a creature not of this earth.
    Roger
turned the boat around, which was the only thing to do, because a
battleship would have hesitated to sail through that maelstrom.
    'What
the hell?' I said, although I had a pretty good idea.
    'Crocodiles
mating,' said Roger excitedly. 'He's just caught a new one and he's
breaking her in. He needs that shallow water in the entrance for
that.'
    Roger
stopped the boat in the middle of the lagoon and we looked back at
the watery love nest. You couldn't see much except vast volumes of
water splashing up from the surface. It was as though somebody had
plunged a huge kitchen mixer into the entrance to the lagoon and
turned it on. The only evidence of crocodile was the occasional
glimpse of a huge black shape flailing away. They were obviously at
it hammer and tongs.
    Roger
was rummaging in his gear for a camera. 'Oh, what luck, what luck!'
he was chirruping. 'I don't think anyone's seen this before — not
in Australia.'
    'How
long do they take?' I said practically.
    'I
don't know,' said Roger happily. 'That's the point — we'll
find out.'
    'I
mean, does it take minutes, or half an hour, or what?'
    Roger
was clicking away with his camera. 'I just don't know. Lots of
animals couple for an hour or more.'
    A
terrible bellow rolled over the lagoon, rebounding off the cliff
walls.
    'The
tape recorder,' muttered Roger. 'Where did I pack the tape recorder?'
    'Roger,'
I said gently, 'how do you propose to get us out of here?'
    'We
couldn't possibly go before they finish. We have to photograph what
we can, and record it. It's a most brilliant stroke of luck,' he
said.
    'Roger,'
I said, with a great effort keeping my voice low and level, 'we
couldn't possibly go anyway. Nothing could get through that storm of
reptilian frenzy and I at least can't climb those bloody cliffs.'
    Roger,
realising at last that I was genuinely disturbed, stopped fiddling
with his tape recorder and stared at me