Don't Bugger Up The Spelling

Gaius gazes at the ocean. 

He spits out a pip.

He wonders if Saint Roley has had any luck spotting a dunnart.

The early morning sun warms the rock he is sitting on.

He should have a hat.

He is about to stand up and get one when the copperhead appears, from the front.

Ah! says Gaius, freezing in a half-standing position.

Do sit down, says the copperhead.

He does.

I've just met your colleague, says the copperhead. He told me you were here. So I've come down to make your acquaintance.

You refer to Saint Roley? asks Gaius.

No, says the copperhead. An oystercatcher, with the faintest French accent.

That's Saint Roley, says Gaius. He goes by that name.

One doesn't go by such a name, surely, says the copperhead. One is granted a sainthood, post mortem.

Circumstances, says Gaius. He was named by the infant Terence, who was originally planning call him Chicken, but was advised against it.

Interesting, but that's not why I'm here, says the copperhead. I wished to meet you, having heard of your writings.

Here on Kangaroo Island! says Gaius, surprised.

We're not quite the backwater you think us, says the copperhead.

I didn't mean that, says Gaius. Only that I'm flattered.

Have you thought of updating them? asks the copperhead. Some of your ideas are quite dated.

I'm always updating, says Gaius. In fact I'm here making notes on the regeneration, and the progress or otherwise of endangered species.

I'm listed as vulnerable, says the copperhead.

I'm aware of that. I shall add you to my list of sightings, says Gaius. You're a pygmy copperhead, Austrelaps labialis.

I am, says the copperhead. Don't bugger up the spelling.

Gaius smiles. As if he would bugger up the spelling.

And how have you found things, after the fires? asks Gaius.

Not great, says the copperhead. We've all had to make changes.

May I ask what changes? asks Gaius.

For example, one spots a dunnart, asleep  in a grass clump, says the copperhead. We know now they're critically endangered. 

And this changes your behaviour? asks Gaius.

Let's say that it might, says the copperhead. 

Fascinating, that you consider these things, says Gaius.

Not at all, says the copperhead. Any other questions?

Dated, says Gaius. To what were you referring?

Your cures for toothache, says the copperhead. Erigeron. Berries that make your teeth fall out. Totally useless.

I admit modern dentistry is an improvement, says Gaius.

And there are no humans whose saliva is an antidote to snake bite, adds the copperhead. Furthermore, snakes do not flee people born of adultery.

Much of my early writing was based on hearsay, says Gaius. 

You should issue a statement, says the copperhead.

No need. It's well known, says Gaius. These days I tend to rely on real evidence.

As if to support this, Saint Roley appears, with good news.

He has spotted a dunnart!