Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

Into the Gully

Clara followed the tracks past the water tanks and down to the edge of the old gully behind the house, where runoff etched shallow veins through the clay. She gasped when she saw Elsie's hat stuck in a thornbush. She didn't shout. She felt like less of a mother and more of an animal.

Clara got down on her knees, looked about, and then crawled through the brush, her heart racing. Elsie was sitting there, in the natural bowl of the land. Seven dingoes stood around her in a rough circle, but her mom didn't think twice. She rose up slowly and straight and started to go down the hill, one step at a time.

Rescuing Her Daughter

Clara's voice was low and steady. It wasn't calming, but it was serious. "I'm here, Elsie." The dingoes saw her coming but didn't do anything. Their ears moved. One looked back, as if to check on something behind her. Clara's feet reached the firmer ground beside her daughter, and she squatted down without taking her eyes off her. She grabbed for Elsie, who looked up with big, unblinking eyes. Not a scratch. No tracks of tears. Clara picked her up gently, held her close, and slowly backed away. The dingoes stayed still. The ring broke just as she was about to leave, and the animals quietly melted back into the brush.