For Green Eyes Only Hooked With Fishing Line 
It was nice to have finally found a peaceful spot away from the disturbing traffic, at Scrubby Creek, where the fish would not be scared away. On top of the big grey rock with green moss on it, I felt excited but relaxed. My feet were a little bit sore because of the little stones and pebbles, coloured with moss, but they weren't just green, they were yellow, red and orange too. The trees, close together and yet allowing a brilliant sunlight through their leaves gave a warm feel to the air.

A pull, a little jerk shivering up my fishing rod and through my body. I wound in the line, but alas, I had been too busy examining the beautiful scenery to react quickly enough. The fish had gone and I felt ashamed, for my friend John was disappointed that he had not caught a fish and thought I had. When he saw the glistening hook without a fish or bait, the reaction on his face surprised me. He seemed to glow but still show his emotion of pity and I realized that he was showing it towards myself for not capitalizing the catch.

"Better luck next time, Jimmy," he said in a sorrowful voice. Time went slowly but with enjoyment and it enabled me to observe the animals and insects. John and I talked and wondered why the name of the creek was 'Scrubby Creek'. We came up with four ideas, but the excitement of another catch took all our attention.

As John reeled the catch in, I shouted with astonishment as I saw a platypus being pulled to the shore. We unhooked the reasonably young baby, but he was bleeding badly. He would not live long! We ran back towards the road with the squealing, wrestling platypus wrapped in towels in my arms. My house was a few hundred metres away. We got home and briefly told dad what had happened and he drove us to the vet with haste. The vet went to the platypus immediately, but sadly it didn't look like the platypus was going to survive. The cut in his cheek was amazingly long and it had lost a lot of blood. We feared for it over the next week .

Eight days later we received the great news! The platypus was going to live!! However it still needed a few weeks to recuperate so we took a pool cleaner and made a fresh water pool and added mud to it so the platypus could live there while it got better.

We looked after it and then returned it to Scrubby Creek exactly three weeks later. The mud had clogged the filters on the pool cleaner so dad was furious and it took him a long time to clean them out.

After we set the platypus free, we started thinking again about why it was called 'Scrubby Creek'. We started looking up history books but couldn't find any explanation, so we looked along the banks, but still found nothing. We never fished at Scrubby Creek again for fear of hurting the platypus, but John and I still went for walks along the banks of the creek.

One time as we were walking a platypus came to the surface of the water near us and seemed to nod its head up stream. "I think it wants us to follow it," remarked John. We followed it, feeling a bit dumb, and when the platypus disappeared John and I felt we had wasted our time.

Suddenly I slipped on a mossy rock and fell into the creek. My head hit something hard and I was in a little tub shaped thing and I figured they were rocks. My lungs were burning as I hadn't surfaced for air yet, so I stood up, only to be knocked over by the current. I hopped up again cautious of where I put my feet. I lumbered out of the creek and fell to the shore. My foot,still hooked to something, was hurt and twisted. As I turned to unhook myself, I realized it was a rusted steel tub filled with rocks. I gaped in surprise as did John. We had found the reason this creek was called Scrubby Creek!!

by Ian from Greenbank State School.


 
 
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This story was created during a one day Literary Day of Excellence at Regents Park Primary School, Queensland, Australia.
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Last updated - 19/7/99