31 Tucker

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Stephen Whiteside
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31 Tucker

Post by Stephen Whiteside » Mon Nov 14, 2011 6:15 am

31 Tucker

© Stephen Whiteside 14.11.2011

As it turned out, Horatio and Magnifico spent three days resting before commencing travel again at sundown on the third day. Three days and two nights. The stopoveer proved most worthwhile in the end. Not only did they greatly recover their confidence and strength, they learnt so much about their new environment. It was amazing just how beneficial it was to be able to stop and observe without the constant pressure to keep on moving forwards. What is more, Horatio, especially enjoyed himself greatly. It was interesting, he noted to himself, just how much state of mind came into play on such occasions. If he had felt they were destined to stay there forever he would have felt trapped and miserable, but knowing it was purely temporary, he in fact had a wonderful time.

Perhaps more than anything what they learnt about was food. And, after all, what could be more important? Up until now, they had been tuned into tracking down the carcasses of big animals - rabbits, possums, foxes, fish - even other rats; ‘glamour tucker’, so to speak. Iconic tucker. They also had thought in terms of feast or famine. Gorge then starve. Gorge then starve. You never knew when your next meal would come along, so eat until you could eat no more.

Gradually, though, all this changed. They began to see that there was food all around them, if only they looked. First, there was the grass. It wasn’t very exciting, and you couldn’t eat too much of eat, but it was edible. And it was quite filling. And it seemed to have the most amazing benefit of keeping your teeth clean.

Then there were the other plants. This was all a bit ‘hit and miss’, and some of them were no doubt poisonous. Generally they allowed themselves to be guided by flavour. A couple were extremely bitter, and they ate very little of these. Some of them, indeed, no doubt worked as drugs. Horatio found himself thrown into a fitful sleep with very strange dreams after eating one particular type of leaf. He was visited by a beautiful peanut cow, but the cow somehow seemed to morph into a rocket ship. He found himself marching up a ramp which was the cow’s tongue, and entering a dark chamber partially lit by flashing blue lights. He was then approached by another cow with a very wicked smile, a glint in its eye, and some sort of strange tool clasped in its hoof. He awoke in a cold sweat, and vowed never to touch those particular leaves again.

But experiences like these were rare. They also found numerous dead insects washed up along the bank, lying at the water’s edge. At first they nibbled at these rather distastefully, though curiously. The taste was an acquired one, but they acquired it surprisingly quickly. There was a slight bitterness at first, which was definitely off putting, but it became less obvious in time, and a more subtle nuttiness emerged instead. Horatio and Magnifico began to quite enjoy eating the carcasses of big, chewy dragonflies, crunchy beetles, and soft, wispy butterflies. The smaller ones were sweeter, as a rule, than the larger ones, but all were quite edible.

It then occurred to them that, living on a diet of plants and insects like this, they almost need never go hungry again. They looked with some astonishment back on their former selves, these strange, bumbling fools that starved in a sea of plenty. In fact, those large mammal carcasses, that had once held so much appeal, began to look a lot less attractive. Firstly, there was often the hard work involved in tearing through the thick hides to reach the flesh beneath. This required the expenditure of a great deal of energy.

Then there was the question of the time involved. It usually meant spending large amounts of time exposed to the view of countless potential predators, at a time when they were in a highly distracted state of mind. Not safe. Not safe at all.

Finally, there was the question of the food itself. It was often rotten, or at least well on the way to being so, and they began to lose their taste for rotting meat. Not that they had ever really had much, to be honest. Why eat the rotten flesh of these large animals, when they could happily snack all day on fresh vegetation, and relatively fresh insect life? No, this new diet certainly made sense.

It also had the added benefit of keeping their teeth cleaner and, oddly, of keeping their breath sweeter, and giving them less wind. These qualities both made tunnel life much more comfortable!
Stephen Whiteside, Australian Poet and Writer
http://www.stephenwhiteside.com.au

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