It was a holiday weekend and Montana’s
birthday. Mum had promised her that she could spend the three days camping with
her friends. Their family lived on a cattle property along the Reestal River
and often camped near a billabong, but this time it was kids only, no grownups allowed.
They rode with their gear on the back of dad’s old ute,. He’d loaded firewood
and everything they needed for their stay.
Her
Dad built a fire for the barbeque while the kids set up their camp. A circle of
stones surrounded the flames, and a round steel plough disc waited for the wood
to burn into coals to cook their dinner. Sausages and soft drink waited in the
cooler ready to make up their feast. Happy with his work and the sausages
sizzling, dad looked around and knowing they were safe headed home.
Giggling
and laughing, they were pleased to be on their own. Swigging down their soft
drink, and after a night of telling ghost stories, the girls could feel creepiness
in the air. It was time to turn in, but Emily wanted to wash her face and she
ran to the water’s edge, the vibrations from her loud footsteps waking the
fearsome monster.
Hiding under the water
Budjerra waited, Emily kneeled to splash her face, as her fingers touched the
water it was Budjerra’s time.
His
head was green and tiny, like a kitten’s head, he had a very long body with a
short tail. What no one knew was, he had knives poking out of his back looking like
a porcupine. Yellow blood stained puss oozed from his wounds.
His
tongue, it was like the arm of an octopus, it flicked out hitting her leg. Its
suckers, leech like began drawing blood threw her flesh. Terrible screams
filled the air, and as quickly, as they could the other girls ran to Emily. They
saw Budjerra sucking her flesh. Montana grabbed a stick from the fire and waved
it under his nose. The flames scorching his tongue, his eyelashes on fire, Budjerra’s
tongue released Emily’s leg, dropping her, and in a hiss of bubbles, he was
gone. Montana had saved the camp.
They hurried through the scrub, ending up back
at the farmhouse so mum could tend Emily’s wounds. The adults didn’t believe
their story and told them not to lie, but the girls weren’t lying. This would
be a birthday they would never forget, a horrible night to remember.
