Genuine Aboriginal Democracy

Here was the silhouette of a park ranger.

  "Mr. Reedy, answer me if you are in there," the ranger demanded.

  The cave was silent. The figure of Professor George Reedy, Little Captain, lay in a corner of the cave.

  "Sir, I must ask you now under penalty of law to stop what you are doing. You are committing trespass by excavating on this land. I am now climbing down the ladder," he said, "To place you under arrest."

  George lay in a fetal position, in the corner of the cave, his thin white hair standing on end.

  "Sir, I charge you with a violation of?"

  "That's of no consequence to me," George cried. "You must arrest me on the charge of murder!"

  "What murder, sir?"

  "I am responsible for the death of my only friend left on the face of the earth." George's hands trembled and his knees knocked as he spoke. "Because of my foolishness, my selfishness, my ego, a very great man is dead," George said.

  "Who, sir?"

  "His name is Turner and he was a dear friend of mine in every sense of the word."

  "Where is this dead man?"

  "I left his body where I found it. In our tent. In his bedrolls."

  "Sir, I assure you that there wasn't a body there. I went to the tent first to look for you. No one was there."

  George sat up and put a hand to his brow. "No one?"

  "Not a soul."

  "Surely in the blanket rolls?"

  "There was no one. Only one set of blanket rolls were left."

  George sat up.

  "And footprints in the new snow led away from the camp," said the ranger. "One set was yours and the other led away. I received a message saying someone was excavating here."

  George stood up and swayed. What did it mean?

  Was it a trick of his, pretending to be dead, the ultimate trick? No doubt he'd rolled in the snow to chill his body and held his breath, not blinking his eyes as George examined him. In his depleted physical state, shocked by grief, George hadn't thought to take a pulse.

  What joy George felt upon realizing that his faithful companion still lived! Sunlight never seemed so warm. Nor a winter jail so homelike. And it mattered not at all that he had misplaced his gold watch, which might have been useful for his bail.

  ~~****~~