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Authors: Christopher Russell

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BOOK: The Warrior Sheep Down Under
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28
Snapping Monsters

The warriors had galloped most of the way along the rough track from Jumpup Crossing. They were full of energy after their earlier long sleep, fired up, and ready for anything. They sang as they ran.

“We's the Eppingham Posse

And we's givin' it a go.

We's comin' for Tuftella

If you really wanna know.

She's a special kinda sheep,

She's the fairest ewe of all,

And we's gonna do a rescue

'cause we never fail the call!”

The lone crocodile lay perfectly still, just its eyes visible. Watching. Listening. It had hoped for a snack. Instead, a five-course banquet was trotting its way.

Wills suddenly stopped singing.

“There it is…” he cried excitedly. “Maiden Tower!”

The others stopped and followed his gaze. There, across the creek and a stretch of bush beyond, rose a tall stone building.

“Nice one, Willsyboy…” said Oxo, after they'd all stared at the tower in awed silence for a bit.

Then the great ram glanced at the water between them and their goal. “Last one in's a sissy!” he shouted.

Wills raced after him, then suddenly remembered the kangaroo's warning.

“Whoa! Slow down, Oxo. What was it the kangaroo said about salties? Something to do with floods? That means water…” But he was too late.

Oxo's front hooves were already in the creek when he saw the log move. And noticed the mean greenish-brown eyes staring at him. The salty lunged forward and its great jaws clicked open, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth. Oxo veered sideways to avoid the teeth but was instantly knocked head-over-hooves by a lash of the croc's great tail. The ram briefly disappeared beneath the frothing brown water. His hooves churned mud from the bottom of the creek as he scrabbled upright, then he slewed this way and that, trying to avoid the snapping jaws and lashing tail. Finally, Oxo gathered all his remaining strength, pushed off, and lunged desperately for the bank. The jaws snapped again. And this time they closed around a part of Oxo's rear end.

“Ohmygrassohmygrassohmyoxooo…!”

Oxo tugged hard, yanking himself free, then scrambled and scrabbled out of the water. The crocodile was left with just a chunk of creamy white fleece in its mouth.

But the danger wasn't over.

“Run!” yelled Wills. “Run. It's coming after us!”

The crocodile wasn't giving up on its dinner easily. It was pulling itself out of the water, its three-meter long body propelled rapidly by its stubby legs and whipping tail.

The warriors turned and fled. Straight into the path of a battered orange truck.

• • •

Deidre, who was taking a turn at driving, jammed on the brakes “It's them again,” she gasped. “Those sheep!”

In the passenger seat beside her, Shelly had already seen the crocodile. “Holy-moly!”

Alice leapt up behind her. “I was right all along,” she screamed at Deidre. “It
is
a plot. You're using them to stop me getting to the Billabong in time!” She pushed past Shelly, slid the passenger door open, and tried to jump out. She wanted to kick the sheep out of the way, once and for all. But Shelly grabbed her shirt and shoved her back into her seat.

“Idiot!” she said to Alice. “Stupid, stupid idiot!”

Outside the van, the sheep were running in all directions, then reforming into a flock as the crocodile tried to pick out a victim.

“Oh no!” Deidre cried. “It's almost got the little one!”

Shelly opened her door, grasped the edge of Norm's roof, and hauled herself up. She ran along the top, dropped down on to Normette, leaned down, and yanked the door off. String and all. “Glad I never got round to getting that properly fixed,” she muttered. Then she stood up and loudly whistled through her fingers. “Here, sheepy sheepy sheep…”

• • •

The warriors had veered off the track in an attempt to escape the snapping jaws. Wills heard Shelly and glanced back.

“Guys!” he shouted. “Stop. Turn back!”

In bleating turmoil, the sheep did as he said. They found themselves facing the crocodile's eyes and teeth as it scuttled toward them. But then Links saw what Wills wanted them to do.

“Jump, man, jump!” And he led the way up and through the open doorway of the trailer. Sal, Wills Jaycey, and lastly Oxo followed.

“Drive!” shouted Shelly. “Drive!”

The crocodile's jaws snapped one more time. And were left with just another chunk of Oxo's wool.

“Man,” said Links, as the truck and trailer lurched away. “You's gonna be bald by the time we finish Down Under.”

Shelly stayed where she was, crouched on Normette's roof, until she was sure the salty had given up the chase. Then she banged on Norm's roof and Deidre pulled up again. Shelly leapt from the roof and swung herself back into the driver's seat.

“They'll make a mess of your luggage,” she told Alice cheerfully, “but I'm sure you won't mind that.”

“Of course not,” replied Alice savagely. “I should
hate
to have them eaten by a crocodile.”

Shelly was peering at the creek as she drove, searching for the shallowest stretch. “OK,” she warned. “All body parts to be kept inside the vehicle. We're going through.”

And she turned Norm down the bank and splashed him into the creek. The water lapped the wheel arches as she drove slowly across.

Peeping out of Normette's open doorway, Jaycey panicked again.

“Ohmygrassohmygrassarethereanymoresalties?”

Oxo grunted. “No worries. Didn't you see my brilliant spin turn?”

“Nah,” said Links. “We only see'd you bein' sheared.”

Jaycey didn't have to panic for long. Soon, they were on dry land again, bumping toward Barton's Billabong.

Squashed on top of a smart suitcase, Sal was intoning happily:

“And locked in darkest tower tall

Whilst 'neath her snapping monsters crawl…”

“Couldn't get much more snappy than that tingy back there,” said Links.

“And did you see who first tried to step out and stand in its path?” inquired Sal. “Who first tried to save us?”

“Our fairy godtingy,” they all chorused obediently.

“Quite,” said Sal, her eyes gleaming. “And now she carries us to the darkest tower. Now we will face the final thunder!”

The others nodded dutifully. Except for Oxo, who was thoughtfully chewing a toilet paper roll.

• • •

It was while the sheep were dealing with the snapping monster that Tod and Ida had arrived back at the sanctuary and found the phone wire cut and Nat gone missing. For a few moments, they'd stood in Frank's kitchen feeling very alone and vulnerable. There was no mobile reception at the Billabong. All this vast, quiet emptiness, with only themselves and the rescue animals. And Mr. Creeply.

“Is there a phone in the office?” asked Tod suddenly. Ida didn't know.

“I think we need to find out.” Tod dropped the end of the phone wire he was holding. “This didn't cut itself. I'm going to speak to Mr. Creeply.”

“You're not going without me,” Ida told him firmly. “I've lost my brother and I've lost my lovely flock of sheep. I don't want to lose you too.”

“You won't, Gran,” said Tod. “But we need to get help quickly.”

He gave her a reassuring smile and raced off across the yard.

“Be careful, Tod,” Ida shouted after him. “I don't trust that Creeply man.” She hitched up her skirt and followed as fast as her old legs would take her.

On reaching the rope bridge, Tod paused in surprise. The tower's main door stood wide open. Tod glanced around, then ran lightly across the bridge.

“Mr. Creeply?” he called, as he reached the tower doorway. There was no answer.

Tod stepped warily into the tower. He blinked as he passed from the bright sunlight into near-darkness. Then the darkness became complete as a pillowcase was thrust over his head.

29
Tuftella

The pillowcase was a long one, the type used as pouches for the joeys. Tod's arms were enclosed, as well as his head, and though he struggled and kicked and wriggled, he couldn't get free. A strong fist shoved him in the back and he stumbled forward. He heard a key turning in a lock, then he was shoved from behind again and felt himself pitching headfirst into space. He bounced painfully on stone steps, then splashed into cold water, and sank like a stone.

Ida wobbled across the rope bridge just as the door inside the tower slammed shut.

“Tod…” she called. “Wait for me…” She couldn't see where Tod had gone. Then, as she walked into the tower, a pillowcase was thrown over her head too.

“Keep still and keep quiet,” a voice whispered in her ear. A moment later, she was stumbling against the unseen bottom step of the spiral staircase.

“Lift your feet…” the voice ordered. “Upstairs.”

Ida grazed her elbows and shins on the rough stone walls of the staircase as she was jostled upward. Finally, her captor leaned past her and unlocked a door. He shoved her inside, slammed the door behind her, and locked it again.

Outside the door, Nat drew a deep breath. He walked slowly down to the floor just below and stood peering out of the window. Things weren't going entirely to plan. He drummed his fingers on the windowsill as he stared out. Where was she?

Far below in the dungeon, Tod was rolling over and over in the cold water, desperately trying to escape from the pillowcase. It was now soaking wet and clinging to his face. Water had seeped through the fabric and filled his mouth. He was choking and gagging. Drowning!

“It's all right, mate…it's all right…” A bony arm was suddenly under Tod's body, lifting his head and shoulders clear of the water. Then a bony hand grasped the pillowcase and peeled it from Tod's face.

“Uncle Frank!”

• • •

Inside the room at the very top of the tower, Ida tore off her pillowcase hood and found herself face to face with a young woman with pale skin, very long blond hair, and frightened blue eyes. She was holding a small Merino lamb in her arms.

The two women stared at each other.

“Who are you?” they both said in the same breath.

The pale woman opened her mouth to answer, but Ida was already looking desperately around the room. It didn't really matter who this woman was. All that mattered was finding Tod. And Frank.

“I've got to get out of here,” she said.

“You can't,” the pale woman said. “I've been locked in for weeks.”

Ida stared at her a moment more, then ran to the tiny window and peered down. Five floors below, she could see the narrow strip of stone around the base of the tower and the moat surrounding it. She jiggled the iron handle on the window frame. It clearly hadn't been used for years. The circular room contained only a small bed and a table with a plate of half-eaten food. And there was a small three-legged stool.

Ida moved swiftly and picked up the stool. Then smashed it against the window.

“Right…” she said. “Start tying your sheets and blankets together to make a rope. We'll need to rip them up first to make it long enough.”

• • •

In the dungeon, Frank and Tod were making their own escape attempt.

Most ancient towers which were surrounded by water had a water gate, and Motte and Bailey had made sure theirs did too. It was guarded by a portcullis: an iron grating that could be wound up or down to let small boats row right into the bottom of the tower.

Since he'd been thrown in the dungeon, Frank had spent hours standing knee-deep in water by the portcullis, using a bit of loose stone to scrape rust and dirt from a wheel fixed to the wall. The wheel was connected to the portcullis. If only he could turn the wheel, he would be able to raise the portcullis and escape.

Now he had Tod to help him, there was a chance they would succeed.

“Are you
sure
it was Nat?” he asked Tod for the umpteenth time as they scraped.

“Sure as I'm standing here with a lump on my head,” replied Tod. “I recognized his voice. And his smell: Joeys mixed with aftershave. Didn't you?”

“No, mate. I didn't know a thing. One minute I was sitting in the kitchen waiting for a call from you and your gran, and the next,
Bang!
Woke up in here. Shouted for hours, hoping Mr. Creeply in the office would hear, but these walls just soak up the noise. Motte and Bailey did too good a good job of building their precious Maiden Tower.”

• • •

On the fourth floor of the tower, Nat had suddenly straightened up. He could see a battered orange truck coming his way.

“Yes…” he breathed. “At last. This must be her!”

Shelly drove in through the sanctuary gate and pulled up near the house and animal shelters. By the time she'd walked round to the back of Normette, the sheep were out and running off.

Shelly turned with a shrug and a grin at Alice and Deidre.

“Well, here we are, guys. Barton's Billabong. And still an hour till sunset.”

But her human passengers were already hurrying away too.

“Yeah, thanks for everything, Shelly,” she said to herself brightly. Then answered herself just as cheerfully. “No worries. You're welcome.”

The warriors stood at the entrance to the rope bridge, gazing up at the tower.

“We're here, right?” said Links in wonder.

“Yeah. So what's next?” asked Oxo.

“In one of Tod's books,” said Wills slowly, “the human maiden in distress was called Rapunzel, and she had very long hair…and she let it hang down and the prince, who was also a warrior, climbed up it and…rescued her. I think.”

“Sounds painful, man,” said Links. “An' we's not exactly climbing dudes, is it?”

But Sal was ready to burst forth. “Tuftella, Tuftella, let down your fleece!” she cried.

The others looked at each other, then joined in.

“Tuftella, Tuftella, let down your fleece!”

In the room at the top of the tower, Ida looked up sharply from the sheet she was ripping. She hardly dared believe it, but she knew she was right. “Our sheep…” she breathed.

But even her precious and much-loved sheep couldn't distract her for long. She had to escape. She had to find Tod and Frank. She knotted the last two pieces of sheet firmly together.

“Tuftella, Tuftella, let down your…”

The pale woman's pet lamb had been listening. Suddenly, it bleated in reply and leapt on to the windowsill.

Down below, the warriors stopped in mid-call.

“Tuftella!” breathed Sal.

“Mmmm…She's well pretty,” said Links.

Oxo nodded in agreement. “Well pretty…”

They all stood gazing up.

“I think she's a Merino,” said Wills.

“She's a mess,” sniffed Jaycey. “But I thought we were supposed to be rescuing her?”

Oxo pulled himself together. “Right. Yeah.”

“And what's more,” breathed Sal, “our fairy godtingy is still with us…We have nothing to fear.”

They turned to see their fairy godtingy approaching the rope bridge. She hesitated, then stepped onto it, holding tight to the ropes on either side.

“Follow the fairy godtingy!” shouted Oxo. “One for five and five for Tuftella!”

He charged at the bridge and was on it before he realized the floor wasn't solid. The woven rope was not something a cloven-hoofed animal would normally step on. The others crowded on after him.

“Ohmyhoovesohmyhooves…” squealed Jaycey. “They're going through the holes! Get off this thing! Run!”

The bridge swayed violently from side to side, like a swing boat at a fairground, as the sheep thrashed about, trying not to get their hooves trapped as they scrambled. Ahead of them, Alice lost her grip on the ropes, and with the next downward swoop, she toppled off, splashing into the water below.

“Thank you, thank you,” cried Sal as the warriors hurried across. “Even to the last she is sacrificing herself for our sakes.”

Nat hadn't seen the fall from the bridge. He'd already left the window on the fourth floor and was running to meet the woman with the plum-colored hair. He was halfway down the stairs of the tower when he met the sheep coming up. For a couple of minutes there was utter confusion. There was no space to push past them and they wouldn't stand still when he tried to climb over them. The plan, he thought to himself, was definitely not going to plan. He finally pushed and shoved past the woolly mass and ran down the rest of the stairs. He stood with his back to the wall and waited, hidden in the shadows. It was going to be OK. She'd arrived. It was time for action.

The warriors continued on up, but it's hard to hurry in tight upward circles on four legs and slippery stone steps. By the time they got to the top, they were all feeling very dizzy.

“Man, I'm spinnin',” puffed Links, staggering against the wall.

“What a shame,” said Jaycey sniffily. “I thought you liked being in a spin over tacky Tuftella.”

Oxo looked at the heavy door in front of them. They could all hear a sobbing and sighing from the other side. There was plenty of tap tapping too.

“In olden times,” said Wills, “they'd use a battering ram.”

“Really?” said Oxo. “Look no farther.” And he lowered his great head and butted the door hard. It shook and rattled.

Inside the room, the sudden crash made Ida and the pale woman jump in alarm. They were standing by the broken window, tapping out the last sharp pieces of glass. One end of the rope they'd made from sheets and blankets was tied firmly to the leg of the bed and the other end hung down outside the window. They turned briefly to look at the door. “It's not going to hold long,” said Ida.

“Just go. Before it's too late,” said the young woman. “I'll hold the rope steady and then follow.”

Ida climbed out and gripped the rope between her knees.

She began to lower herself down, then remembered she hadn't even found out the woman's name. She paused a moment and called up.

“Who are you?”

“Alice,” said the young woman. “I'm Alice Barton.”

BOOK: The Warrior Sheep Down Under
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