Day 127: Katherine
Bluey strokes his head.
'Wild horses. Feral animals. Horses are good, high in phosphorus, low in fat, lots of good protein.'
'You feed horses to crocodiles?'
He nods amiably.
'Mince 'em up. Add a few vitamins.'
My eye is drawn uncontrollably to a large wall chart above the sofa, 'Land Snakes of the Northern Territory'. It sports some chillers like the Desert Death Adder.
'Do you get many of those round here?'
'We get a lot of Western Browns...'
His nine-year-old daughter Raine comes in, trailing long red hair like Alice in Wonderland.
'There was one in my towel last week.'
'Then there's pythons,' Bluey drawls on, 'they're not a problem, they eat all the rats and the frogs. No, it's the King Browns you godda look out for. They chase after you. We had one come through that door once, didn't we?'
Janelle shouts back from the kitchen.
'I hit it with a shovel and the shovel bounced right off its back!'
They all laugh nostalgically. Janelle appears and lays a plate of fresh-baked chocolate cake on the table.
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