The Tree Story

1134 words

I ran so hard my chest pumped as hard as it could to give me breath but it was beginning to fail. I could feel the heat of my rubicund face swelling my pores begging for air with my wide open mouth pulling in every molecule of life. I’ll make it to the tree before the dogs can catch me. I must.  The dingo packs know nothing of mercy, nothing of “it’s only a child. They know only that they must eat and feed their young. I was not to be that meal. That tree, only a handful of yards away will be my shield against a relentless foe.

I jumped with no particular target branch in sight; clinging on for life---legs swinging wildly below me—too low as the bite of a dingo soon proved. The lack of air in my body must have caused the pain to flow out with the blood from his bite. Holding on; trying to pull myself up with the dog attached. I swung back and forth and was able to hit the main truck of the tree; dislodging the dingo. He’s had a taste of me now and his family wanted some. Eight seemingly normal dogs under other conditions; all weighing about 28 kg. with the young ones about a quarter the size. I climbed up to the strongest looking branch watching them as they jumped and barked as savage a scene I ever hoped to be part of.

I was still weak from lack of air and bleeding badly from my leg---my eyes and mind seemed to shut down to send any available life resources I had to my lungs. I lifted my wounded leg and crossed it over my other leg to get it more comfortable. As each drop of blood fell to the ground a dog would eagerly lap it up as if it were an appetizer. Not me. Not this day; I thought as my mind put me down to rest. My body and mind were so spent there was no energy to dream.

When I awoke the dogs were still surrounding the tree as if to be guarding any hope of escape. It’s now a waiting game. My leg was throbbing and I needed to stop the bleeding. It was mid-summer so clothing was minimal. I took off my tank top, but with no sleeves it was not much to work with. Looking at the sun; just about noon and temperature rising to near 100-- leg hurting bad and no help in sight; the reality of my situation was setting in. Why did I wander so far from the ranch? My Uncle warned me not to stray. I was visiting Australia and I wanted to see her natural beauty. The ranch was near a beach which is where I was going. What am I going to do. My leg is probably infected. I told nobody where I was going. I read the dogs only ate small animals and occasionally kangaroos and the like, but not people, not me.

I must get positioned so if I do lose consciousness I won’t fall—that terrified me. I started thinking of the people eaten by sharks and alligators. Oh my God please don’t let that happen to me! A couple of the dogs had left’ Maybe they were giving up their quest of me as a meal. How am I going to get help? I know they will look for me soon, but My Mom and Uncle have no idea where I went. I must be a good 5 miles from the ranch and hidden in a huge tree. How am I going to let people know I’m here? What can I do? Think Barbara, think. My leg is throbbing so hard it feels as though my heart has moved into my leg. I looked up toward the top of the tree and I knew I could make it there. There were plenty of branches and leaves to keep the sun off me. I noticed that the dingoes were moving around the tree. I thought they were following me but they were following the shade.

Maybe I could get rid of the dogs it I took away their shade. Forget it, there were too many branches to climb to and break; besides, I’ll be taking away my shade and I couldn’t let myself sit in this hot sun with no top on. And I have to be really careful about my leg. I have to try to keep it higher than me to help the pain. How can a 14 year old allow herself to screw up this bad? I decided I have no choice but to try option one, actually the only one I can think of. I climbed to the top of the tree. It took me over an hour to maneuver into a good position to start my tree demolition exercise. Then it dawned on me.  I can save branches to cover myself with. So I started my task, breaking off as many branches as I could. The ones I couldn’t break, I tried to rip the leaves off them. I through everything toward the area the dogs were laying. I could tell I was irritating the dingoes because they would jump and bark at me. Finally it got to the point that they were all standing in their ever shrinking shade barking and snarling at me. Ah, the taste of sweet revenge.

I kept working as the sun began to make its decent in the west. I had about 2 hours of sunlight left. I was so involved with the branch project that I hadn’t noticed the dogs had left. Now I had to figure out how to get help. I certainly couldn’t risk walking home. I don’t even know if I could make the journey with my leg hurting so badly. Then I saw a pick-up truck heading toward me. It was my Mom and Uncle. There was no way they could have seen me. Mom was driving and Uncle Jim was standing in the back. They drove straight to me. But how did they see me? They pulled up to the tree, Uncle Jim with his shotgun over his shoulder. They helped me down and into the back of the truck where Mom wrapped a blanket around me and stayed and helped me with my leg. “How did you know where I was?” “Ask your uncle when we get back.”

We arrived at the ranch and Uncle Jim carried me into the house.  “Uncle Jim, how did you know where I was?” “ Been an Aussie since I was an ankle biter and I’ve never seen a cairns bald on one side and throwing it’s branches away.