Like A Bee-Sting

 How're they doing? asks Reedy.

Gone to look for fresh water, says Gaius. I gave Terence my phone.

I meant mum's pastries, says Reedy. Are they defrosted?

More than defrosted, says Gaius. We'd better eat them quickly.

I'll get a knife, says Reedy.

He cuts up the bienenstich, and hands it around.

Yum, says Sweezus. Tastes like a bee-sting.

It is a bee-sting, says Reedy.

You gave Terence your phone? says Arthur.

So he can call if he gets into trouble, says Gaius. 

Maybe we should call him, says Sweezus, licking honey and cream from his fingers.

He's with his Polynesias, says Gaius. He'll be all right.

You reckon they're reliable? asks Sweezus. 

We'll see, says Gaius. 

How come you're so laid back? asks Sweezus.

Maybe it's the beer, says Gaius. May I have another one?

Yes he may. Reedy is well stocked with ales and lagers.

The combination of rich sticky pastries, copious ale and the stuffy air in the tiny blue caravan sends them gradually into a stupor, and no one calls Terence.

Terence has made for the sand hills. From higher up, he should have a good view.

His duck-parrots have disappeared already.

Up up climbs Terence.

The sand is soft, and squeaky.

At last he reaches a high point.

Now he can see everything. The blue caravan, back there. The ocean, over that way, and a stretch of flat water over there. That's where the stupid ducks are. He can see them spinning round in a circle, on the water. Head to tail.

Yuck, says Terence. What are they doing that for? They're RUBBISH parrots. I wish I had a real parrot. Or even Saint Roley.

How good would it be if Saint Roley flew overhead right now?

But he doesn't.

Saint Roley has reached the lighthouse at the tip of Kangaroo Island. He has landed. He has knocked on the door. Captain du Couedic has opened it and welcomed Saint Roley.

Come in, come in! You must join us for our holiday festivities! What's this? A chocolate bar?

Saint Roley follows him in. No, it's the thermometer Sweezus promised you. It needs washing.

So I see, says Captain du Couedic. Baudin is upstairs, drinking rum. Bring it!

They climb the stairs. 

Sit, says Captain du Couedic. Let me pour you a rum. Help yourself to the savouries. The toppings are pickled mussels, peeled sea urchins and crab. Oh, and those ones are lobster. Ha ha. A little Christmas indulgence.

So lobsters do sometimes eat other lobsters.

But only at Christmas.

That's good to know.