Meri panted in the fierce heat, the sun was burning him up although he
was in amongst the trees. The trouble was that this forest was not the
dense pine forest he was used to - it was more open, like a birch
forest. But these trees were like no others he had seen.
Thick trunks rose tall and straight then spread into a twisting canopy
of branches which carried a thin sprinking of sickle shaped leaves. He
was walking through the dappled shade, following Tirra Lirra as she
moved lightly across the forest floor.
He felt heavy and hot, his feet noisy amongst the dry leaves and sticks
of the forest floor.
Tirra looked back and slowed down. She was worried - Meri was such a
sturdy fellow, but he was not looking happy. His hair was plastered
damply on his head and his skin was flushed and hot.
Meri slowed too and gradually came up to where she was waiting for him.
She reached out and touched his face. He looked at her, amazed to see
that, although she was warm, the burning heat was not distressing her at
all.
Tirra reached into her pack and took out a bottle of water, offering it
to Meri. Together they sat down and drank the water. The heat washed
over Meri in waves. He began to think of rolling in the snow at home....
They continued on their way, walking slowly through the trees. Cicadas shrilled
all around them, their piercing sound reverberating in their ears. The air itself
seemed to vibrate. They moved along more and more slowly.
Tirra was worried, she had to get Meri out of the heat. It was clear that he was becoming increasingly distressed.
His face was red and his eyes bulged a little. A while earlier, he had begun to mumble as he plodded along.
Now his mumbling grew louder and Tirra could make out rambling phrases that made little sense to her.
"He sang to them," he mumbled, ".....they listened....and awaked.....it was about
themselves.....who they were....who their parents were.....and why they
were. The sharks were gone, replaced by millions of insects with colorful
wings that flapped in their nosehair, tickling. But like a snake without a
tail they felt that something was missing....the desert didnīt have
sand....the clouds didnīt have sky......themselves didnīt have the hobbit
mind to tell them right from wrong."
She walked by his side and cast her eyes around for a cooler place where he could rest. She was leading him
down the side of the hill to the gully where she knew she would find a creek - she hoped the water would be cool.
She led the way over the rough ground, picking her way around rocky outcrops and big trees. Sweat poured off Meri
and even Tirra was perspiring freely now. At the base of a large outcrop, she noticed a sizeable hole and
recognised a wombat's den. Meri stumbled against her and she put her arm around him. She sat him in the shade
of the rock and offered him the water bottle again. The air hung hot and heavy shrill with the noise of the cicadas .
The leaves on the trees hung drably in the heat.
Tirra wet a cloth with water from the bottle and wiped Meri's face, she lay the wet cloth across the back of his neck.
He managed a small smile and muttered his thanks.
Tirra looked around and made a quick decision. She took off her pack and told Meri to stay there, then she wriggled
into the wombat's hole on elbows and knees. After a few metres, the hole widened and the air became a little cooler.
She smelt the strong smell of wombat. She stopped and called to the sleeping marsupial. After calling for a minute or so,
she heard a stirring in the blackness. She kept calling to wombat, asking him to wake up. Gradually the wombat woke
and came sniffing towards her.
Propped on one elbow, she put her other hand out and touched his snout. She stroked his rough wiry hair and whispered
to him in his own way. He grunted and muttered and jerked his head back behind him. She spoke some more. He seemed to nod.
Tirra wriggled backwards out of the hole and emerged into the hard afternoon light feet first. The heat washed over her.
She felt hot and dirty. Meri sat miserably where she had left him. She brushed back his damp hair and explained what she
wanted him to do. He brightened straight away. He hated feeling like this - usually he could walk all day. Tirra took both packs
and let Meri go first into the hole. He wriggled forward and disappeared into the darkness. She followed
dragging the two packs awkwardly along with her.
Meri loved the smell of the earth and immediately felt better in the darkness of the enclosed space. He was grateful
for the cooler air on his face and his nostrils prickled at the dusky animal smell of the wombat. Soon, he heard the
wombat grunt and scuffle away from him, so he continued wriggling forward. From time to time, he reached up to
feel the space above his head. The space grew higher and soon he was crawling on hands and knees, following the
sounds of the wombat ahead of him and aware of Tirra following behind him.
Tirra stopped and slung both packs over her shoulder then continued on hands and knees. The wombat led them
along a tunnel that sloped steadily downwards. Once or twice another tunnel joined theirs and sometimes the tunnel t
wisted around rock or passed through clefts of rock. Meri wondered who had made this network of passages -
it didn't feel like the work of animals.
Then the wombat stopped moving ahead, Meri reached up and touched only air - the tunnel had opened into a
high cavern. Meri and Tirra stood up with relief. Tirra dusted her dirty knees now scratched and bruised by the
stoney floor of the tunnel.
She could see nothing in the blackness. She called to wombat and heard him grunt in reply. She spoke again
in gutteral tones, he mumbled and grunted, then they heard him scuffling away again.
Tirra touched Meri on the shoulder and said, "We follow him."
With her hand on his shoulder, Tirra and Meri cautiously felt their way across the rough floor of the cavern,
stumbling now and then and supporting each other. Both of them enjoyed the cool damp air in the cavern -
air that had been undisturbed for generations. A damp, musty smell filled the space.
The cavern narrowed, and, after a while, they found themselves walking through a narrow cleft between high
walls of rock. The walls felt damp and they heard the sound of water. As they continued along, Tirra became
aware of a slight lightening of the blackness. Step by step, they continued with Meri in front his hand touching the
wet rocky walls, as they moved out of the blackness into deep gloom.
Now they could make out the shape of the high, narrow tunnel they were moving through. Meri could see light ahead
and make out the silhouette of the wombat scuffling along on his stubby legs. He glanced back at Tirra and caught
her look. They were pleased.
The wombat led them to the opening where the passageway ended in daylight. Again, they could feel the heat
of the day. Meri crouched down and thanked the wombat. The wombat grunted and accepted a pat from Tirra
before turning back to continue his sleep.
Tirra and Meri looked out onto thick vegetation green with ferns, bushes and lichens. They could hear the quiet sound
of water running. Meri took a few steps out and felt the heat wash over him again. Although the greenery looked cool, the
temperature was almost as hot as it had been on the side of the hill. He retreated into the cool shadows and sat down.
Tirra dropped beside him, had a drink and stretched out. She wriggled a bit then sat up again. Then she cleared the ground
beneath her of the worst stones and sticks, before lying down again with her pack as a pillow. Meri did the same and they
both followed the wombat's example and dozed quietly in the heat of the day.
As Tirra dozed, the plants around the creek strengthened their hold on life, drinking in the warmth of the sun, the moisture of
the earth.
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Đ 1997
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