Brown mud oozed around Greg's rubber boots, making a soft swishing sound as he worked. The sun was warm on his back. He could hear bird song and the rustle of a breeze through the gum trees above. There was no sound of people around. Or was there? He stiffened. Someone was coming down the steep bank, slipping and sliding on the gravel. Greg looked around hastily. A tall grass tree with three black trunks stood nearby. Quickly he threw down his trowel into a clump of reeds and hid behind the grass tree. As he watched, a ...
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Brown mud oozed around Greg's rubber boots, making a soft swishing sound as he worked. The sun was warm on his back. He could hear bird song and the rustle of a breeze through the gum trees above. There was no sound of people around. Or was there? He stiffened. Someone was coming down the steep bank, slipping and sliding on the gravel. Greg looked around hastily. A tall grass tree with three black trunks stood nearby. Quickly he threw down his trowel into a clump of reeds and hid behind the grass tree. As he watched, a scruffy, furtive youth scrambled up to a group of rocks under a tree and stuffed a bulging sack down among the granite boulders. Then he returned the way he had come, passing within centimetres of Greg's hiding place. Greg froze. What was in the sack? And just what could he do about it?
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