Best Boomer

That's strange, says Dufresne. Where has Baudin gone?

Perhaps he has gone for a piddle, says David.

Is that what you call it? says Dufresne.

Not generally, the word just popped out, says David. I expect he'll be back soon. If not, use your whistle.

Piddle, says Dufresne. I like it.

But Baudin has not gone for a piddle.

He is following the kakapo.

She seems to sense it.

After a short distance she stops.

Baudin scrapes to a halt, but not before the kakapo hears scraping.

I don't mind you following me, says the kakapo.

That's nice, says Baudin.

You seemed well informed about us, says the kakapo.

That was my friend, says Baudin.  

I only saw you, says the kakapo.

You saw Dufresne, says Baudin. He knows more than me about the kakapo.

It that why you're following me? asks the kakapo.

Could be, says Baudin. 

It is, says the kakapo. You were jealous.

Merely curious, says Baudin. About this lek business.

Prrrt! says the kakapo. I'm not really going.

You said you were, says Baudin.

But not that I was being truthful, says the kakapo.

How droll, says Baudin. Why aren't you going?

We females always pick the same guy, says the kakapo.

The best boomer? says Baudin. Or....hooter?

Think about it, says the kakapo. 

Only one winner, says Baudin.

It used to be fun, says the kakapo. 

But no longer, says Baudin. One grows weary. I know what you mean.

They continue shuffling and stamping towards who knows where.

Suddenly Baudin sees a thin beam of torchlight. 

And Katherine's feet.

Above which, her striped long johns.

Hello! says Katherine. I see you have found one!

She writes something in a small notebook.

Already counted, says Baudin.

More than once, says the kakapo.