CHAPTER 12

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That night, Evie can’t fall asleep. Her head is full of the baby elephant and her mind keeps tumbling the same questions over and over. What if it survived the shipwreck? What if it is hurt? Is it hiding in the bush? The very idea of it lost and alone in the bush makes her heart flutter. She snuggles into Claudette and Florette, but sleeps fitfully, dreaming of a baby elephant crying out for her in the night.

Evie awakes with a sense of urgency; all she can think about is where one might begin a search for a baby elephant, monkeys, and birds. And if she is to find them, how can she show them she is friend, not foe? She knows the easiest way is to offer food. But what do baby elephants eat? She assumes milk, but will cow’s milk be a good substitute? How is she to carry it? She’s already researched a monkey’s diet – fruit, nuts, and seeds – which could also feed the birds.

With her head full of plans, Evie leaps out of bed and accidentally tips Claudette and Florette onto the floor. Dazed and blinking with sleep, they’re far from impressed. She nuzzles them as she lifts them back onto the bed and nestles them into the quilt.

Evie dresses and hurries to her chores. She wants to keep some milk aside for the baby elephant and seems to recall a canvas water bag hanging off the side of the buggy. Perfect. She’ll borrow that! Mr Duffer won’t mind.

Downstairs in the kitchen, she catches a whiff of sweet pastry and the tang of apples. Cook has been baking, and there on a cooling rack in the pantry, are four golden-looking apple pies. Without a second thought, Evie wraps one in a tea towel and eases it into her shoulder bag. She adds three more apples, rhubarb stalks, and a handful of oats. She can’t believe what she’s done – she’s stolen an apple pie! But desperate times call for desperate measures. Even so, when Cook finds out, she’ll string her up.

Evie hurries to the house paddock looking for Rhino. She finds him with Dominique and Bernard, and the sight of the three friends grazing together cheers her. They lift their heads upon seeing Evie and moo and neigh, calling out to her in greeting.

Rhino huffs as he saunters toward Evie making funny squeaking sounds as he snuffles her face. She rubs his ears and scratches his chin before tapping his horn and leading him to a fence. She steps up onto a railing and clicks her tongue, asking Rhino to move closer to her. He stands very still.

How hard can it be to ride a rhinoceros? wonders Evie.

Evie hoists herself up and climbs onto Rhino’s back. With a squeeze of her legs, Rhino starts to walk. His gait is smooth and slow, much smoother than a pony’s. Evie places her hands on Rhino’s neck, and touches him on the left or right to show him which way she’d like to go.

It’s not that different to riding a horse! thinks Evie. Except, you’re a lot higher off the ground, and Rhino’s girth is so wide her legs stick straight out. Evie grins. They head toward the beach to commence their search in earnest for the baby elephant, the monkeys, and the birds. Evie feels hope floating around inside her.

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Dismounting at the dunes, Evie and Rhino make the slow climb. At the top, the south-easterly wind whips at her hair and clothes. She inhales the clean salty air and juggling the shoulder bag, she staggers down to the bottom and onto the beach.

Rhino nibbles at Evie’s arm, tugging at the bag straps. She loops the straps over his horn until it’s secure and he carries the bag for her.

Together, these intrepid explorers stride up the beach.

We’re going to find the baby elephant! We’re going to find the monkeys! We’re going to find the birds!

Evie smiles at Rhino’s bouncy trot and his wobbly bottom. How she adores him!

Together they head toward the place Evie found Rhino and begin their search.

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The small cove is sheltered by a break of basalt rocks, and the aquamarine water is calm and clear. Evie glances at Rhino, wondering if he has any memory of this place. If he does, he doesn’t show it.

Evie takes the shoulder bag from Rhino and together they meander up the gentle rise from the shoreline and into the marram grass-covered dunes. The dunes aren’t steep here, they’re more like rolling sandhills merging into tea tree scrub and bush.

Crouching down on her heels, Evie listens to the dunes with her hands. Rhino lowers his head and huffs down her neck. She runs her hands along the sandy corrugates and can feel the dunes vibrating. They’re alive with bees buzzing in purple pig face and beetles and spiders making homes for their larvae, building nests and weaving webs.

What else can I hear? Evie concentrates, closing her eyes and going deeper.

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Rhino closes his eyes too. He can smell something tangy, a nostril-burning smell. He knows it comes from the leaves of the trees in this area because he’s chewed on some before, and they are most unpleasant. Very unpleasant. And this is a surprise, as his constitution allows him to consume most things. The dappled light through the trees makes him sleepy and he sways and leans his head lightly against the shoulder of the golden-haired child. She places her hand on his nose and “shushes” him. She wants him to be quiet. He can do that. He’ll just have a little nap. But the human child appears to be searching for something. He can sense her alertness; her pulse is racing. Although, this isn’t unusual. She is rarely still. Rhino gets a whiff of something on the breeze and it’s the sweet, gagging rankness of over-ripe fruit. It’s distinct and familiar. How could he ever forget it after the journey they endured together. He knows then and there, it’s the reeking stench of the little monkeys. He has wondered what became of them after seeing them streak off into the sand dunes as he collapsed ashore. It dawns on him; this is what the golden-haired child is seeking. The monkeys.

Rhino jerks his head in the air and Evie’s eyes fly open. She stares at him. His ears swivel and flicker. She knows he has an excellent sense of smell and acute hearing. She watches him as he tilts his head, sniffing the breeze. The pungent stink of monkey armpit wafts over him again. They’re close, Rhino can sense it. He can hear the creak of branches, bending under the weight of something swinging from it. He has to let them know they’ll be safe with the golden-haired child. The little monkeys were terrified of the humans on the ship, but they don’t need to be with this tiny human. She is uncommonly monkey-like herself. Rhino bellows, calling to them. Reassuring them. He can hear their chitter chatter of nervous surprise. But he can also hear their uncertainty.

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Evie cocks her head. She too can hear something. It’s faint, but getting louder, clearer. Is it a bird? No. It’s a chattering sound. Evie sucks in her breath. She imagines it’s the sort of sound a monkey would make. Monkeys, she thinks, her heart fluttering. It’s monkeys!

The wind gusts and as it changes direction the chattering fades.

Evie and Rhino move forward with deliberate, slow, silent steps into the tea tree scrub. Evie scans the ground looking for any signs that animals have been moving through the undergrowth. Papa taught her how to track, to search for signs such as footprints, trampled grass, and droppings. A hush falls around them and Evie raises her hand signaling Rhino to stop.

He’s picked up all of the signals she taught Francie and Freddie. Rhino does stop, and from behind gently bumps into her. He nibbles her fingers as she stares into the bush holding her breath. A flash in the corner of her eye makes her head spin around, but there’s nothing there. Another flicker of movement catches her eye and she snaps her head the other way.

There’s something in the trees, or is she imagining it?! No! There is something in the trees, something swinging from branch to branch!

Evie and Rhino continue to stare into the bush. There is definitely something in the trees watching them. Rhino sways on his feet from side to side.

Taking the bag from her shoulder, Evie leaves their food offerings on the ground. She pours some milk into an old cracked ceramic bowl she found in the stables and leaves apples, rhubarb stalks, a pile of oats, and, finally, she places Cook’s apple pie on the ground. It’s a bit mushed up. The outer edges are crumbled and merged into the sticky sweetness of the golden apples.

Evie’s not sure how she’ll cover up the disappearance of the pie, but she can’t think about that right now. She has to focus on finding the baby elephant, the monkeys, and the birds.

They leave the food and reverse out of the bush, back through the dunes and the swaying grass down to the beach.

Tomorrow, Evie and Rhino will return to see what is left.

But Rhino is reluctant to turn for home. He keeps stopping and turning his head around, staring wistfully toward the bush. He dawdles, dragging his feet in the sand, but after a while he canters to catch up with the golden-haired child.