Loku and the Shark Attack (2 page)

Chapter two

Loku woke when it was still dark. He collected sticks for his mother's fire and dragged one of his father's canoes to the edge of the ocean. He walked back up to the hut and told
Lapun Papa
he was going for a walk along the beach to collect crabs. ‘Okay,' replied his grandfather.
Lapun Papa
noticed that Loku had left his delicious fish head uneaten the night before. He was thinking about his grandson, but he chose not to interfere or follow.

Loku walked along the beach, but he found no crabs, only a broken piece of glass. He reached the river mouth and turned and walked along the banks of the river. When he came to the painted stone and tall stick that marked the edge of his village territory, he did not stop. It wasn't until he was inside the border of the neighbouring village that he walked into the bush to collect green leaves to make a fire signalling he was in their territory. All the time he walked he thought only of Nul's words, ‘You always do the right thing. Responsible Boy!'

Loku tightened his jaw and swallowed. He looked around. There were not many green leaves because of the long dry season. As he gathered leaves, his cheeks began to burn, and his brother's words grew louder in his head.

‘You always do the right thing. Responsible Boy!'

Loku dropped the green leaves he had carefully collected and began to deliberately choose dry leaves. Instead of making the fire close to water as custom had taught him to do, he walked further inland. When the river was out of sight, he made a pile of dry leaves and thin twigs in the grass and took out the broken piece of glass he had found on the beach. Turning the glass in his hand, he waited for the sun to warm up.

When he finally felt the heat of the morning sun on his skin, Loku knelt and held his piece of glass above the leaves. He ignored the ants crawling over his feet, and waited for the small brown ring of heat to burn the leaves. Soon a thin wisp of smoke appeared. Loku bent down and blew with very slow, controlled breaths.

Slowly, he fed more leaves to the flame that came. He was pleased with himself when he had a steady fire, and he layered it with dry branches full of crisp, brown leaves.

The smoke rose, but it did not carry the thickness of a proper smoke signal. Instead, the smoke looked like that of a cooking fire, and the fire was bigger than Loku had expected. He watched it nervously and sighed. He had deliberately made a fire away from the river's edge and he wondered how he would be able to collect enough water to put it out.

He heard his brother's voice echoing in his head again. ‘You always do the right thing. Responsible Boy!' His cheeks reddened again with anger.

Okay,
thought Loku,
I won't put out the fire!
though he silently said to himself,
The neighbours have seen the smoke and will put it out soon, anyway.
This is what he hoped would happen.

Suddenly, there was a strong gush of wind, and a rush of thick, hot air blew against him. It lifted up some of the burning leaves, blowing them in different directions. There were small fires catching in different places, and the wind did not stop.

This is not good,
thought Loku. He began pulling up grass and grabbing handfuls of earth to put out the big fire. It was no use. Loku felt a thick wall of heat around him, and he looked up. The surrounding bushes were on fire. The wind had carried burning leaves to the tall dry grass and brittle bushes. The flames moved quickly with the wind. Loku's little fire had become a raging bush fire, uncontrolled and growing quickly – much too quickly!

Flames were leaping higher than his head. An orange wall of fire raged through the bush like an angry giant. The forest was ablaze and crackling toward him. He could barely see through the thick smoke closing in on him.

Loku ran as fast as he could. Then he stopped in his tracks. Trapped! He was surrounded by fire and a huge crackling branch – not far above his head – was about to fall. Raising his arm above his head for protection, he squinted and jumped to his right. Crash! The large branch smashed where he had just been standing. A shower of sparks rained down upon him. Stopping to catch his breath, he realised the smell of singed hair was his own. He zigzagged his way through patches of smoking grass. Then he jumped like never before and went over the last burning bush at the edge of the forest. Tumbling to the ground exhausted, he crawled to the edge of the river and collapsed in a heap on the sand.

Chapter three

When Loku lifted his head, he was startled by what he saw in the river. A large old turtle with its leathery neck above the water, fixed two solemn eyes upon Loku. His heart sank. The turtle was his tribe's totem animal. He knew he would be punished for starting the bush fire.

Avoiding the turtle's gaze, Loku stepped into the river and lay for a few peaceful moments cooling his heated body. He felt lucky to have escaped without serious burns. Turning over, he was surprised to see an old canoe resting beneath the mangroves not far from him.

Loku waded slowly toward it. Whose canoe was it? It had no carving of a turtle on it, so he knew it was not from his father's village.

The fire had pushed him right to the water's edge. Loku jumped into the canoe and paddled quickly up the river mouth.

Taking a stranger's canoe was serious and Loku was very nervous. Suddenly, the canoe stopped – stuck! He peered over the edge, but only saw the emerald green of the river. Then he jerked in fright. The reflection of a man holding a spear had appeared in the water. Loku looked up in time to see a man disappear behind a tree. His heart pounded against his chest, and he quickly lay down in the canoe to hide. A dark wave of smoke from the fire blew across the river toward him.

Soon Loku was gasping for air. Everything went hazy and then black. He did not see a man's hand reach over the edge of the canoe, but he felt himself being pulled to the river's edge. Two men helped drag the canoe out of the water. A pair of long spindly arms grabbed Loku's limp body and lifted him from the canoe. The men bound his ankles and his wrists and lay him on his stomach beneath a tree. One man placed a rock on Loku's neck. The turtle watched from the water, wide-eyed and still.

Loku woke much later and he felt a heavy weight on his neck. He was thirsty and he swallowed hard, but he kept his eyes shut tight. He didn't want his captors to see he was awake. He could hear the deep voices of three men. One voice sounded familiar, but he could not tell who it was.

‘The place of the large turtle is in the old cave.'

‘It's a long swim across, and the cave is deep.'

‘We should go before the next tide.'

Loku listened carefully – not only to their words but for their spirit voices. He hoped to hear kindness, but all he could hear was harsh laughter. First it was the men who laughed, then a chorus of birds joined in. When they flew away, silence descended. Loku wondered if the men were watching him closely or if they had left him. Then two strong hands grabbed his ankles. The rock was taken from his neck, and a piece of moist bark was placed in his mouth. He was dragged by his ankles across the rough bush grass on his belly. He was so busy sucking water from the cool bark, he barely felt the grass scrape against his skin.

Suddenly the men stopped and let go of Loku's feet. Thud! His hands were untied, and he was rolled onto his back in the centre of the men. The three men spoke to each other in more serious tones now.

‘He's out of his village territory.'

‘Came onto our land without permission.'

‘He started a bushfire and stole a canoe!'

‘He's a foolish boy.'

‘Not a boy – he's a baby whose mother did not know he was playing with fire,' one man jeered.

After much laughter there was a moment of silence. A gruff voice made a suggestion.

‘We do need something to use as bait.'

Bait!
thought Loku, and he flinched.
I'm going to be used as bait!

Just as he was about to open his eyes, a man ruffled his hair. The familiar voice said, ‘Don't open your eyes yet. Save that for when you're under water.'

Clenching his jaws tightly, Loku swallowed with a gulp. His stomach churned and he felt weak. He lay very still.

‘The shark will swim in from the sea to wash his barnacles off. He'll come up the river mouth before the sun closes her eye. We just need a bit of live bait to lure him in.'

Loku broke into a sweat. He wanted to cry.

‘We should feed the boy, so that he has strength for his task ahead.'

I don't feel like eating at all,
thought Loku, but someone shoved a piece of smoked fish into his hand. A rough hand wrapped around his own and guided the dry fish to his mouth. Another person lifted him so he was sitting upright. He gulped the fish down.

Then the stranger with the familiar voice moved to within an inch of Loku's face. He spoke slowly. ‘We will take you to the edge of the river mouth. The ocean will be coming in to meet the river. You will swim out to the rock in the middle of the river and dive down beneath the surface. Do you understand?'

Loku nodded. His eyes were still closed, and he felt sick in his stomach.

‘You will find a cave entrance. Inside the cave there lives an old turtle. Bring it to us.'

The stranger moved away, but the others spoke now.

‘We will tie the turtle to a vine and pull it beside the canoe.'

‘Yes. We will spear it, so its blood will attract the shark.'

‘The sun is beginning to close her eye. Let's go!'

Loku was horrified. How could he betray his totem animal? He wanted to run, but he felt the tightness of the vines around his ankles.

A pair of strong arms lifted Loku to his feet and the binding around his ankles was untied. He was told to open his eyes and to walk down to the water. The men followed close behind.

Loku stared out from the riverbank into the dark, swirling current.

‘See where the rock sticks out above the water; the cave is just below it.'

Loku looked out across the river. The rock was a small dot in the middle. The ocean was reaching for it. Could he swim to the other side of the river and escape? No! It was too far away and he was already weak.

A strong voice boomed behind him, ‘In you go. Bring the turtle back. Quickly now!'

‘Why are you doing this to me?' Loku asked angrily.

His chest heaved and he turned to face his captors. Instantly, six strong hands grabbed him. They held him tightly, facing the sea. He was answered firmly.

‘You were outside your territory. You lit a fire, but your fire was not in the sand. You did not use green leaves. You used dead brown leaves, and you started a bush fire. You sent animals to their death. You destroyed our crops.'

Loku shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to start the bush fire. Why had he let his brother's words echo in his head and lead him to such recklessness?

He shuddered to think of what his own people would do without food. He sighed deeply.

‘Now you must go!'

Loku was pushed from the steep bank into the river. The jolt of cold water against his skin made his eyes open wide. The water was dark and shadowy in the dimming light. He turned to catch a glimpse of the men's faces, but he could only see their silhouettes. They stood beneath the trees, three men with spears – waiting. He struggled to swim quickly, but the river pushed him in the opposite direction. He grabbed hold of a log and hung on tight. Then he spotted a long, shadowy movement beneath the water. It was the shark!

Now I die,
he thought.