Our own great hunter and tracker

Dear Madam,
When I was a lad of eight to 10-years-old, I was known as a brilliant tracker. I would spend most of my free time tracking the insects and animals. Yep. I could even track birds – on the wing of course!
Why!! I even tracked a tadpole through a swamp for five days … but that’s another truthful story yet to come. Well my tracking skills were… believe it or not in Africa.
It seems that a big fierce wild lion was on the rampage in a village away out in the bush. Dad took the phone call and gave me general information on what needs to be done to hunt a big, fierce wild lion … in Africa.
So I packed my overcoat, footy socks and beanie, just in case it gets cold in Africa.
I picked up my old .22 rifle with no sights and headed for the train station. Africa! Here comes that big, fierce, wild lion’s worst nightmare. Oh yeah … we couldn’t take the old truck because Dad ran over the huge 10-foot tadpole and busted up all the steering etc. Another true story?
When we got to Africa, we were given the general directions of the village – 333 miles due west. Off we went walking.
We walked to the village because I wanted to hone my “tracking skills”.
The villagers told us that Kimba Sai (that’s the word for lion) was eating all the chooks and pinching the kids Easter eggs … I realised that the big fierce lion had to go.
They showed me his tracks … wow, they were the size of a 44 gallon drum. He’s a biggin’ alright. Whew!
I came across the beast about midday … I was in awe as I loaded up my .22 rifle with no sights and took pointed (no sights) … I couldn’t bring myself to kill this magnificent beast, so aimed to just crease him, so we could relocate him.
Bang and down went the lion … I hope you tune in to read the second part of this true story next issue!
Brolga (Max
Ferguson).

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