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<h1>15</h1>
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<p><em>August 1. 5 pm...</em></p>
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<p>The bird flapped laboriously into the air, a grey shadow rising
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above the ferns bordering the stream. Without thinking, more an
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instinctive reaction, Danny threw his stick at the motion and his
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aim, quite uncharacteristically for him, was easily six foot wide
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of the mark. The stick flew though the air, making a whirring sound
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as it spun end over end.</p>
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<p>The slow, whooshing wingbeats pushed the heron forward, the neck
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curved in a white serpent-shape and its long dagger-beak pointed at
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the sky. It flew straight into the path of the whirling piece of
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wood. The thrown stick caught it at the base of the neck and the
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bird simply stalled in its flight. The branch flipped onwards and
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landed in a hazel bush. A small white breast feather tumbled
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outwards. The heron dropped to the earth and hit with a thump. One
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wing flapped madly, while the other was clenched tight in against
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its body. The beating wing carried the big bird around in ungainly
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circles, a graceful thing now graceless, clumsy and broken.</p>
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<p>"Bloody <em>great</em> shot," Billy whooped.</p>
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<p>Danny's heart sank. He hadn't even known what he was throwing
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at. He had only seen a movement beside the ferns, a rabbit, maybe a
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hare. He'd lobbed plenty of rocks at plenty of rabbits for many a
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summer and he'd never succeeded in hitting any one of them.</p>
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<p>Now the beautiful bird was down, its beak opening and closing
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like a slender trap, making no bird noise, but emitting a harsh and
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ragged hiss that made him think it was choking. Its head was
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twisted at an odd angle.</p>
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<p>"Didya see that shot?" Billy yelled again. Doug, following
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behind, still stripped to his sting vest popped his head over the
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fern tops.</p>
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<p>"What's happening?"</p>
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<p>Danny ran forward, the soles of his thin canvas shoes pattering
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on the smooth stones as he crossed the stream at the shallows.
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Billy was right behind him, ignoring the stepping stones, splashing
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through the water.</p>
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<p>The heron flapped madly with its one good wing.</p>
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<p>"Kill it," Billy said. "Kill it before it gets away."</p>
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<p>Danny froze. The bird was broken. The long and slender legs were
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stuck out below it as if they were incapable of taking the weight.
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A delicate crest of feathers flowed back from the smooth white
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head. The long, yellow dagger of a beak opened and closed with a
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faint snapping noise.</p>
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<p>"I didn't mean it," Danny said.</p>
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<p>"Did you hit it?" Doug called from the far side. "What is it? A
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cormorant?"</p>
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<p>"It's a flamin' stork."</p>
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<p>"A heron," Danny said lamely. He edged forward and picked up his
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stick. The bird hissed and its bright yellow eye fixed on him. It
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made a lunge to protect itself, the beak knifing forward, but its
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co-ordination went awry and the lunge took it a foot past Danny's
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toe. The beak slapped on the short grass like a mis-thrown knife.
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An unbidden tear sparked in Danny's eye and he blinked it
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back..</p>
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<p>"I didn't mean it, honest," he protested. If he could have
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<em>un</em>thrown the stick, if he had simply waited for a second,
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the bird would have soared into the air, surprised by their
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approach, alarmed maybe, but it would have risen on those whooping
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wings and taken to the sky. The eye fixed on him again, bright
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yellow with a sparkling black pupil that widened then contracted to
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a pinpoint as the head turned towards the sun.</p>
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<p>An awful feeling of wrongdoing settled upon him.</p>
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<p>"Bloody brilliant shot," Billy was saying. "Got it right in the
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neck." He was dancing around excitedly, poking his own stick at the
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stricken bird. He knocked it on the beak and the heron snapped
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weakly at the piece of wood. "Look at the size of the thing. It's
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like a flamin' turkey. That could keep us going for a week."</p>
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<p>"Can you eat them?"</p>
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<p>" 'course."</p>
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<p>Danny wasn't listening. All he could see was the bright, glazed
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eye that seemed to be hold him with an accusing glare, and the
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hissing rasp as the bird hauled for air through its damaged neck.
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An ominous sense of foreboding stole over him. He'd thrown the
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stick and hit the bird. He could see where its neck was broken,
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down at the base close to the shoulder. It was dying.</p>
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<p>A small cloud passed over and dimmed the bright sunlight. It
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happened all of a sudden and Danny shivered inside himself as a
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sense of misfortune overtook him. It was as if the deed had been
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witnessed, the simple casual destruction of a heron, by some force
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of nature that had darkened the day because of the act. A tear of
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guilt and regret brimmed over Danny's eyelid and rolled down his
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cheek. None of the others noticed. Doug had come across the stream
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and was now crouched down some feet away. Danny knuckled the tear
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away.</p>
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<p>"Bust its neck," Doug said. "Spot on. Never knew you were that
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good." There was no sense of regret in his voice, merely a
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curiosity and, of course, admiration.</p>
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<p>"I didn't mean it," Danny insisted. The bird was still flopping
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around, though less frenziedly now. It whirled in a circle and then
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stopped. The beak opened and it sighed, or at least that's what it
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sounded like. From that long dagger, it had an oddly unnerving
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human quality.</p>
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<p>"What'll we do?" Billy asked.</p>
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<p>"It's dying," Danny replied. He could hear his own voice tight
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and cracking. "It's hurt." He took three steps forward and swung
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his stick in the air and brought it down in a fast arc. It caught
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the heron on the back of the head. The beating wing went into a
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spasm of frantic movement then it slowed to a shivering tremble.
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The beak opened once and then closed again very slowly. The
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lifelight faded from the yellow eye and the bird was dead.</p>
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<p>It lay there on the short grass beside a clump of ferns. In
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death it took on a certain dignity and the twist in its neck, where
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the fine bones had been dislocated was not quite so apparent. It
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could have been sleeping - if herons ever did lie down to sleep -
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except for the fact that its sightless eye was wide open and fixed,
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still fixed accusingly on Danny Gillan.</p>
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<p>He turned quickly and went across the stream again, this time
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ignoring the stepping stones. The small while cloud passed quickly,
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taking its shadow with it and the sunlight flooded back into the
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valley. But as Danny followed the path back down to where they'd
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stopped to camp, the strange and uncomfortable sense of foreboding
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followed him.</p>
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<p>Corky had the fire lit and it crackled inside the ring of smooth
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stones they'd brought up from the stream. He and Tom were peeling
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potatoes and in an old dried milk can, blackened and with a bent
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wire for a handle water was bubbling away. Tom stood up when the
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others approached.</p>
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<p>"What's that?"</p>
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<p>"A heron," Doug said. "Danny hit it in the air. Must have been
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fifty yards away." Doug exaggerated. The bird had been much closer.
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"Knocked it right out of the sky."</p>
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<p>"Big, isn't it?"</p>
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<p>"You should have left it," Danny said. Corky was looking at the
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bird admiringly as Billy spread out the wide grey wings.</p>
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<p>"Never seen one up close before," he said admiringly.</p>
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<p>"I didn't mean it," Danny said again, and the others looked at
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him. "I wish I hadn't hit it. It'll have yunks in the nest waiting
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for it. They'll starve."</p>
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<p>Billy held the slender neck up in one hand, letting both wings
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trail. The bird was as tall as Tom when it was stretched out. The
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blinkless yellow eye still found Danny.</p>
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<p>"This one won't scare all the trout away," Billy observed.
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"We'll get all the fish we want. And we can eat this too."</p>
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<p>"No," Danny said. "Hide it."</p>
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<p>"What's the matter with you?" Corky asked reasonably. "It's only
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a bird."</p>
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<p>Danny tried to tell him it was more than that. He'd seen the
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heron taking off, its neck coiled to rest the head on the shoulders
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while the great beak pointed at the sky. It had been a magnificent
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thing full of wild life and slender beauty and he'd thrown the
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stick and broken it. <em>Killed it.</em></p>
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<p>He couldn't explain. They wouldn't understand. Billy stood there
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with the bird dangling from one hand, his dark hair gleaming in the
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sun and his tanned shoulders making him look more like a young
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Indian brave triumphantly showing a kill.</p>
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<p>He turned and strode up to the gnarled hawthorn tree that spread
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its twisted branches out in a high arch in the hollow beside a low
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wall of rock. Before they'd gone off exploring the left side of the
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stream they'd gathered sticks and branches for firewood and stacked
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it in the rough natural shelf in case it rained. Billy put the bird
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down on one log, letting the head dangle over the side. He slipped
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his old knife from the leather sheath and started to hack away at
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the neck. It took several hits before the head fell away attached
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to six inches of white neck that ended in a bloody draggle of
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feathers.</p>
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<p>He held it up, wagging his hand up and down trying to make the
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beak open and close.</p>
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<p>"Look. I got it to talk," he called down. Doug laughed. Billy
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did a little dance that made him look even more like a tribal
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warrior, slapping his hand against his mouth to give a tribal yell.
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The ragged end of the neck jangled in his hand and thick droplets
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of blood splashed over his bare shoulders and chest. He looked down
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at the congealing splotches and pulled a face.</p>
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<p>"Oh Jeez," he bawled.</p>
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<p>"Heap big warrior, scared of blood," Corky said.</p>
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<p>"It's horrible," Billy protested. He turned and stuck the head
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in the cleft between two branches of the hawthorn tree, leaving the
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beak pointing down towards the campfire. He came down towards the
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others. Out of the shade they could see the large drops of blood,
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scarlet freckles on his smooth skin.</p>
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<p>Doug reached out and speared one with his finger, drawing a line
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of red down Billy's back. The other boy spun round angrily.</p>
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<p><em>And they marked the lintels with the blood so that the angel
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of death would pass over</em>. The line from Exodus sprung unbidden
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into Danny's head, but the feeling of wrong-doing stayed with him,
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as if he'd broken more than the heron.</p>
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<p>"Makes you more like an Apache," Doug said. He poked out again
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and smeared the blood on Billy's chest, leaving three thin
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trails.</p>
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<p>"That's really horrible," Billy said. "And it stinks as well."
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He passed Corky who reached and smudged the lines, making a
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criss-cross pattern. Billy jerked away, crossing to the other end
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of the fire. Through the wavering air over the flames they saw him
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head down towards the stream. As he passed close to a small wild
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hazel bush, a small swarm of flies came buzzing out, danced in the
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air and went following the scent of blood.</p>
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<p>Billy did a strange little dance as the flies whirled around
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him, suddenly taking him by surprise. He flapped them away and then
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slapped at his own skin. "Bloody flies. They're eating me
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alive."</p>
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<p>"Heap brave warrior shitting his pants," Corky said and he and
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Doug and Tom cracked up with sudden laughter. Billy got to the
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stream, waded in without hesitation and then ducked right under the
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surface. When he came up, snorting for breath they saw him quickly
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wipe away the smears of blood. The coil of flies danced around him
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momentarily and then flew back into the bush again.</p>
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<p>Billy came wading up to the campfire grinning widely.</p>
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<p>"What, no war paint?" Corky asked sarcastically. "You'll get
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drummed out of the cubs."</p>
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<p>"Out of the brownies, more like," Tom said.</p>
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<p>"Honest to God, those flies are like vampires. See the fangs
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they've got?" Billy clenched his own teeth in a demonstration and
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then started to laugh. He came up close to the fire and the water
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splashing from his soaked jeans hissed on the hot stones.</p>
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<p>"So what's for dinner?" he asked.</p>
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<p>The heron's head still stared out from the fork in the tree, a
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trophy to Danny's great skill as a hunter. The staring, filmy eyes
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snagged him while Billy was wading in the stream, trying to escape
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the cloud of flies. The feeling of guilt and the underlying
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sensation of foreboding, having broken a taboo still hung around
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him.</p>
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<p>"Come on, Danny boy," Billy called over. "Doug nicked a tin of
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corned beef. Want some?"</p>
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<p>A few large black flies were hovering around the bloody stump of
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the dead bird's neck where it flopped across the log. Another one
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flew up to the head and alighted on the yellow eye, rubbing its
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forelegs together. Danny turned away, knowing he would have to take
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the thing down and hide it.</p>
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<p>"Will we eat first or fix up the tent?" Corky asked.</p>
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<p>"Eat first," Doug and Billy said simultaneously. Tom voted along
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with them. Danny came down from the tree and tried to put the
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feeling of guilt and odd apprehension away from him.</p>
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<p>The potatoes were hard from not being boiled long enough and the
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beans were speckled with ash from the fire, but the boys wolfed the
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lot and then threw their tin plates in the stream to let the
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current clean them off. Danny and Corky dragged the tent out onto
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the flat a few yards away from the fire and untied the stays, to
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roll the heavy green canvas out. The bag of tent-pegs rolled to the
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side and thumped to the ground. Another tightly wound roll of
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burlap dropped and hit the hard turf with a clatter.</p>
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<p>"What's that?" Corky asked. He unravelled the dirty piece of
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sacking and spilled the contents onto the grass.</p>
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<p>"No wonder it was so heavy," he said. A heavy ballpeen hammer
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lay on top of the short black curve of a crowbar. Beside it lay a
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pair of electrician's heavy duty pliers with insulated handles and
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a long screwdriver with a crooked blade. Corky flipped the canvas
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so that all of the contents rolled out. Billy darted forward and
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grabbed a tightly-rolled magazine held in a cylinder with a rubber
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band. Doug picked up a shiny and expensive-looking Ronson varaflame
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cigarette lighter that was the height of technology of the day. A
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small box covered in black velvet revealed two gold cufflinks
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inlaid with black onyx. A smaller canvas bundle showed what Danny
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thought was a Luger pistol, but turned out to be an old pump-action
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airgun. Beside it a rattling tin held the lead slugs.</p>
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<p>"No wonder he didn't want us to have the tent," Corky said.</p>
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<p>"What do you mean?" Tom asked the obvious question.</p>
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<p>"This is where he's been hiding his stash. And his gear."</p>
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<p>"I don't get it? Tom insisted.</p>
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<p>"It's his B&E gear. For getting into places. Like garages
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and bike sheds. Like people's houses?" He started meaningfully at
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Tom who looked blank.</p>
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<p>"Breaking and entering. Like what Mole Hopkirk used to get up
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to. I never saw that lighter before, or the cufflinks. Or the
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airgun. He must have swiped them and hid them there."</p>
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<p>"And I never saw tits like that before," Billy said, spreading
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out the magazine on the grass. "Look at the size of them." He
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turned the picture around to show the others. "That's Marilyn
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Monroe."</p>
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<p>"No it isn't," Doug debated. "But it's like her." Unconsciously
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he dropped his hand to his crotch and fumbled himself into a
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comfortable position.</p>
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<p>Corky gave the picture a glance. "Brenda Fortucci's got bigger
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ones."</p>
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<p>"She's got bigger everything," Doug said. "And a face like the
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backside of a double-decker bus."</p>
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<p>"We've seen better than that, eh Dan?" Corky asked, giving Danny
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a wink. Danny still had that picture of Jane Hartfield branded on
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his mind, every curve of her as she strode down the path with fire
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in her eyes and a flush on her face. Doug was about to ask what
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Corky was talking about when Billy whooped.</p>
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<p>"A goddess," he said appreciatively, lowering his voice to what
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he thought sounded like a lecherous growl. "A livin' doll." He
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snatched the magazine up and formed his lips into a pout.</p>
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<p>"Mmmm," he kissed the printed breasts then pecked at the red
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lips of the smiling woman then dropped his mouth to plant another
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smacker on the curve of her buttock.</p>
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<p>"Wish you could see the front," Billy said.</p>
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<p>"Wish you could see where that's been. Phil's probably had that
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under the blankets, and now you've kissed it."</p>
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<p>"Argh," Billy said, drawing his face into a contorted twist of
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disgust. He spat quickly as if he'd eaten something foul.</p>
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<p>"Oh, that's fuckin' awful. You don't think he <em>came</em> on
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it?"</p>
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<p>Tom started laughing and even Danny started to giggle though the
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two of them were still below the cusp of puberty and while they'd
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heard plenty weren't exactly sure what the description entailed.
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Something came out and it was white and sticky, but what made that
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happen wasn't within their scope of experience yet.</p>
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<p>"Yeah," Corky said. "Every night for a week. All over it, and
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now you've got it in your mouth."</p>
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<p>"No. Don't say that," Billy pleaded. He held the magazine up to
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the light to inspect the pages. "No, he couldn't have. I can't see
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anything."</p>
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<p>"That's 'cause it goes invisible," Doug said, keeping it up.
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"Just like germs, but it's worse than germs. If you get somebody's
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come in your mouth you get VD."</p>
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<p>"What's that?" Tom asked.</p>
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<p>"Venial disease," Doug said. "And it's fatal every time."</p>
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<p>"No, don't say that," Billy begged. He stuck his tongue out and
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began to wipe it with his fingers.</p>
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<p>"It rots your skin and it gets into your dick and makes it fall
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off," Doug pressed it home, winking at Corky, grinning broadly.</p>
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<p>"And the only cure is to get a sharp spike with barbs on it.
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They put it right down and then rip it back out and it brings all
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the scabs with it, and all the poison and it feels like you piss
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broken bottles for about a year. Mybe more."</p>
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<p>Billy winced, screwing up his face at the very thought. He
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crossed his legs in an involuntary protective motion against such
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an event.</p>
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<p>"They call it the Wassermatter reaction. Phil told me about it.
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He knew a guy who had it done and it left his dick shredded to
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pieces and he had to sit down to pee after that."</p>
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<p>"Oh Jeez," Billy said, his imagination running riot.</p>
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<p>"And if you get it," Doug said, head turned away from Billy so
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that his grin couldn't be seen. "You can never get in the Commandos
|
|
once you've had VD. They do an inspection right down your willy to
|
|
see if you've had the scabs. And they can tell if you caught it
|
|
from somebody else's spunk. I read that somewhere. You'd get done
|
|
for being a queer-boy. Nobody likes them. They can even throw you
|
|
in jail for that."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Doug was about to go on when he realised what he'd said. Jail
|
|
was a taboo subject. He turned quickly to Corky.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Sorry man. I didn't mean anything..."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Corky slapped him on the shoulder. "No problem Doug." He turned
|
|
and indicated the pile of tools and goods on the grass. "If Phil
|
|
gets caught with this lot, he'll be up in Drumbain himself." He
|
|
gave a rueful grin and Danny thought he was being really big about
|
|
it. "See, Billy? Once they catch you, you can have company in the
|
|
cell. You and Crazy Phil banged up in the Drum.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"I wouldn't share a cell with that bastard if he was the last
|
|
man on earth," Billy said with feeling. He spat again. "Not after
|
|
what he's done."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Oh, don't worry about it. It might not be VD at all. It might
|
|
be <em>Siff</em>."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Billy raised his eyebrows hopefully. He might have been the
|
|
biggest among them and the oldest, but he was the least well
|
|
informed.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"What's that?"</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Don't you ever read anything except Commando comics?" Doug came
|
|
back in. "It's even worse than VD. It rots your nose and then your
|
|
skin it turns your brain to mush. You end up like a walking
|
|
skeleton. Like a zombie."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"That's all right then," Tom said. "Nobody will ever
|
|
notice."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Everybody looked at Tom. He looked back, face straight. Then all
|
|
four of them burst out laughing, all doubled up and howling
|
|
helplessly while Billy stood there, scraping his tongue against the
|
|
edge of his teeth, wondering what they were laughing at, convinced
|
|
he could already feel the contamination working inside him.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"What's this?" Doug asked. He'd lifted the box with the
|
|
cuff-links and the little velvet holder had flipped out, revealing
|
|
two oblong foil shapes. He held one up.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Chewing gum?"</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Corky reached for one. "It's a johnny," he said.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"What's that?" Tom asked, completely innocent.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"You put it over your dick so you don't get the siff," Corky
|
|
said. "It's got germolene or something inside it. Penicillin
|
|
maybe."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Let's see," Doug said, snatching it back. He ripped the foil
|
|
and pulled out the pink shape. The little nipple flopped outwards.
|
|
"Couldn't even get Tom's little willy into that," he said and they
|
|
all hooted, even Tom, who took no offence at all.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Naw. I've seen used ones down at the sewer pipe," Billy said.
|
|
"They're bigger than that."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Doug worked at it until the end began to unravel. He held it up,
|
|
pale and translucent, stretching it between his hands. "It's a
|
|
balloon," he said. "Who's stick their dick in a balloon?"</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Daft Phil would," Billy said and they all had a laugh at that.
|
|
Doug brought the rubber up to his lips and blew into the thing. It
|
|
inflated immediately, even quicker than the bewildered frog had
|
|
done. He drew breath and blew in again until the rubber was the
|
|
size of a football.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"That would fit me now," Tom said and this time Doug almost
|
|
choked. The rubber slipped from his hands and flipped away on a
|
|
bubbling fart of expelled air. It landed in the bush, just out of
|
|
reach, dangling from the thorns like a thin skin. By this time they
|
|
were all convulsed with laughter and Billy was actually rolling on
|
|
the ground, holding his belly. Corky was rubbing tears from his
|
|
eyes.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Eventually the laughter faded. Doug stuck the other condom into
|
|
the pocket of his jeans and they cleared a space to erect the tent,
|
|
spreading the guy lines out on either side under Corky's directions
|
|
and getting the stout centre pole straight. The original cords had
|
|
long since frayed and now the boys used a roll of rough and hairy
|
|
baling twine that was coiled round a baton of wood. Another length
|
|
of fine wire that they'd found last summer on a fence post at
|
|
Cargill Farm stretched from the back pole to one of the trees
|
|
behind, to keep everything steady. The ballpeen hammer came in
|
|
handy for getting the tent-pegs hammered into the hard ground. In
|
|
half an hour, much longer than it would have taken the boys in the
|
|
scout troop, the old green tent was fixed up, a little swaybacked
|
|
and with side closest to the stream flapping loosely, but it would
|
|
take them all at a squeeze come nightfall.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Doug brewed some tea in the blackened milk-can and slung in a
|
|
small sliver of wood which he said would help draw the fire-ash to
|
|
the surface. They drank it in their old chipped mugs and while they
|
|
had no milk, they were in the great outdoors, miles away from the
|
|
town, miles away from the pressures of home and it tasted just
|
|
fine.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Does Phil really break in to places?" Tom asked.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Corky shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past him, but I wouldn't ask
|
|
him neither, if I was you." He winked and then spiralled a finger
|
|
around his own temple. "He's not so hot in the brains department,
|
|
not like his handsome, intelligent kid brother."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Ugly and thick brother," Billy responded automatically.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Oh, the big chief hunter of flies has spoken," Corky said and
|
|
gave Billy two fingers. "Up yours Harrison. Up to the elbow." It
|
|
was all said without rancour, almost like an automatic litany of
|
|
responses. He turned back to Tom.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"But he'll be mad as a wet hen when he finds out what
|
|
<em>we've</em> found out. I'll have to think of something. Like
|
|
tell him we didn't use the tent."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Maybe we should go back and he'll never know we found it,"
|
|
Danny ventured. It was the first time the thought had entered his
|
|
mind. It just came up from nowhere and he'd simply uttered it. He
|
|
didn't feel right about that heron. It had disturbed him, taken the
|
|
shine off the day, put a shadow on the adventure. This morning Phil
|
|
Corcoran had thrown a knife at him and his luck had saved him, let
|
|
him off with a small bruise on the side of his head. Now he felt as
|
|
if that luck wouldn't hold. He couldn't, if asked, have coherently
|
|
explained why. Tom looked up at him, blew the steam off the surface
|
|
of his tea. He nodded. "Maybe we should go back."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Corky shook his head. "Nah, not since we've come this far. That
|
|
tent weighs a ton, and I'm not carrying it back. Phil can wait
|
|
until we get home."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Can't stop now," Doug agreed. "We must be at least half way
|
|
there."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Yeah we want to find the Dummy Village," Billy backed him up,
|
|
the threat of disease forgotten and his face now animated. "We'll
|
|
be the first. There might be guns left behind. Maybe even machine
|
|
guns." He had dragged the flopped body of the heron away to the
|
|
side and was pulling the broad flight feathers from the ends of the
|
|
wings, each of them coming out reluctantly.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Danny looked at Tom. The feeling of apprehension was still
|
|
there, but they had come this far. Tom was still unnerved from the
|
|
gorse-fire. He'd had a real scare, and Danny could tell he really
|
|
did want to go home, but that he didn't want to be the first to
|
|
back out.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Come on Danny boy," Billy said. "We can play commandos. It'll
|
|
be just like in the war." He held up a bunch of the wide grey
|
|
feathers. "Or even cowboys and injuns." He took a length of the
|
|
baling twine and tied it around his head, then jammed some of the
|
|
feathers through it, making them stand upright. The head-dress made
|
|
him look even more like a young brave. He grinned proudly, waving
|
|
the rest of them in his hands and doing a little shuffling
|
|
dance.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Danny shrugged, and that committed Tom. Corky winked at him and
|
|
slung an arm around Tom's neck, giving him a quick and friendly
|
|
headlock. "The famous five ride again, amigos," he said.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>When they finished their tea Corky loaded the air pistol and
|
|
they spent a half an hour firing at the empty tin of corned beef
|
|
which they set up on a stone on the far side. The steep sides of
|
|
the deep gully spat the pistol-cracks back at them, but only Billy
|
|
managed to hit the tin and even then, the spring on the old gun was
|
|
so weak that it hardly made a dent. Finally Doug put a stone in his
|
|
catapult and winged it at the can, hitting it dead centre and
|
|
sending it tumbling into the air. The sun was high, edging over the
|
|
east side of the valley to shine directly into the stream. The
|
|
light spangled up from the ripples below the low falls.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"I vote we go and look for it now," Billy said. He'd taken off
|
|
his feathers which were now looped over the tent-pole and he was
|
|
now lying on his belly on the short grass, soaking up the sun,
|
|
while Doug gently touched his skin with a stalk of grass. Every now
|
|
and again Billy would bat away what he thought was a horse-fly.
|
|
Doug grinned mischievously and kept up the nuisance.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Too late now," Danny said. "If we start early tomorrow we'll
|
|
have all day."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"How about exploring the stream?" Corky said. He pointed to the
|
|
fork ahead where the two canyons met, joining from separate
|
|
tributaries at a narrow angle. "I've never been up there."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"I was up once, catching trout last winter," Danny said. "Me and
|
|
Al Crombie. There's a good bit like a wall right across the gully
|
|
and the water comes out in big arch. You can get right behind the
|
|
waterfall."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"I read that in a book," Corky said. "Hawkeye. Him and his pal
|
|
Chingachgook were hiding under the falls. It was like a cave." He
|
|
hauled himself to his feet. "Let's go see."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>He bent quickly and slapped Billy hard on the reddening skin of
|
|
his back just where Doug was mischievously trailing the ear of
|
|
grass. Billy yelped.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Big horsefly," Corky said. "Biggest I ever saw. Had to smack it
|
|
off before it got you."</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>Billy glared at him, unsure of whether Corky was taking the
|
|
mickey or not.</p>
|
|
|
|
<p>"Would I lie to you Billy-O?" Corky asked, knuckling the bigger
|
|
lad on the shoulder. "I just saved your life, didn't I?"</p>
|
|
</div>
|
|
</div>
|
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</body>
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</html>
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