Whispering in the Wind by Alan Marshall

Author:Alan Marshall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2018-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

‘What’s this squirting people to death?’ asked Greyfur. ‘What do you mean? Peter and I would never agree to such a death. You want to be careful making threats like that. I’ve seen men get a punch on the nose for talking like you do.’

‘Listen to her talk,’ said the Bunyip scornfully. ‘One squirt from my nostrils and I’d send you sliding down that track for a hundred yards. Good heavens, woman! I’m the world’s champion squirter, and you talk about my getting a punch on the nose.’

The Bunyip threw back his head and roared with laughter.

‘I thought you blew fire out of your nostrils,’ said Greyfur, disconcerted by the Bunyip’s amusement. ‘How can you guard a Beautiful Princess when you haven’t got a fiery breath?’

‘Now, look!’ said the Bunyip. ‘Sit down here for a while and rest. I won’t kill you till after lunch, so relax and make yourselves at home while I gallop round the castle and scare away any man or beast that wanders too close. I won’t be long—about twenty minutes. We’ll have lunch together, then. I always bring a cut lunch. I’ve got a dish of fried frogs—ah, beautiful!’ and he smacked his lips. ‘I’ll tell you all about myself when I return, then you can run for it. I hate killing people who are not trying to get away. I’ll give you both fifty yards start before I squirt you to kingdom come. You couldn’t ask for anything fairer than that.’

He rose to his feet and began prancing to loosen his muscles. He certainly did look an extraordinary creature. His head, perched on the end of his long neck, stood twenty feet above the earth. He could twist it like a duck, and it was no trouble for him to turn it and look backwards. His body was cumbersome and heavy. He held his kangaroo-like tail in the air while he walked, and when he ran he lurched and rolled like an overladen ship in a heavy swell at sea.

He now set off at a gallop round the wide track that encircled the castle. Each time he rose in the air his neck went forward, and when his feet touched the ground again, it came back. He moved like a giraffe, yet his legs were as short as a bear’s. As he ran, he shot water from his nostrils and roared loudly. Cattle that had strayed onto the track were blasted off their feet by a jet of water that sped between them in a glittering arch. He could send the stream from either nostril at will, and such was the force with which he expelled it that the beasts rolled over and over before staggering to their feet coughing and spluttering.

If he went on long enough the victim would be drowned, but with cattle and horses he was content to knock them over. With Knights and Princes on horseback, he drew a deeper breath and hit them harder. Knights laden with their armour charged him with drawn lances, shouting battle cries as they came.

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