December 1956 School Magazine

December, 1956

December, 1956

BrisbaQe Girls' Grammar School Magazine

Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazine

TRAP He came upon the trap late that afternoon. He had been walking slowly along the beaten bush track thinking of the recent dingo raid upon his sheep, when a dingo 's howl broke unex- pectedly upon his thoughts. He listt;:ned. It was emitted again, biting sharply into the warm afternoon air. It was a cry stricken with terror and anguish and it strangely awakened his senses to half- forgotten memories, memories that flooded over him, unbidden, unwanted; memories of those nightmare years spent in the prisoner-of-war camp. How often then had he heard such pain- racked cries issuing from the throats of tortured, broken men? Shaking himself angrily to dismiss the thoughts, he pushed his way through the bush undergrowth to investigate the sound. Without warning he burst upon a scene that jarred him. In front of him was a dingo trap, and in its merciless grip a large dingo was writhing, its front paw gripped by the steel teeth. The creature's eyes darted instantly to him, but they were eyes clouded with pain and at short intervals agonized trembling racked its body. It snarled menacinglY, but the snarl was stifled in its throat. Pain drew the wild dog's attention from the intruder, and it started tugging frantically at its imprisoned paw. The man saw that the trap had almost severed the bone. The brown fur was stained dark red, and torn flesh lay about the trap. He gazed in horrible fascination at the ugly wound. His own flesh writhed as he felt again unbearable agony . . . his torturers ran their cold bayonets across his limb, vainly endeavouring to prise his country's secrets from him. The hideous scream forced itself from his throat as the bayonets severed his bone-with a muti- lated stump for an arm, he was left . .. A sharp bark interrupted his tumbled thoughts and he forced himself back to reality. In front of him the dog had freed itself -but at the grim cost of its paw, which lay, torn and still, in the trap. The dog limped off through the undergrowth, but its fine head was held high. It had won, just as he had won when he had stumbled away from the dread ·barbed wire camp during the confusion of a night air-raid-stumbled triumphantly away towards freedom . . . The sun had set when he arrived back at the homestead. He was shaken by his experience, but his mouth was .set resolutely as he took from his writing desk the latest order for dingo traps . He gazed unseeingly at the paper for a moment, then tore it into small pieces, and thoughtfully let the scraps slip through his fingers , and fall into the wastepaper basket. ANNE MARKWELL. Form !Vb.

--NANETTE BUCHANAN, VA.

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