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Bindon's Lore
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with BINDON THE BUSHIE
Rampant Reptiles Reprint from Edition 59, Winter 2006
Jim had worked in the herpetological department of a State Museum, in other words he was always a bit snaky. his perch, one that held water and the other sunflower seeds. During daylight hours, he wandered free around the yard and in the Now, I can take snakes or leave them - mostly the latter and at a fast rate. In fact I was once accused (when only wearing thongs on my feet) of running so fast that I was on top of the scrub instead of on the ground when I met an aggressive brown Joe Blake on a bush track. Jim, on the other hand, strolled around on his bush block in a quiet corner of north Queensland's Daintree clad in bare feet and not much more. Every now and then he encountered some form of reptilian visitor and picking it up and draping it around his neck, he escorted it away from the block without much comment but he sometimes kept them for a day or two to observe their creature habits. As Bob and I lounged about on the upstairs veranda of his unfinished house and forced down pannikins of Jim's mediocre red wine, he explained why there was a huge Emerald Scrub Python coiled up in a large glass tank downstairs. The snake was waiting for a trip out to another bloke's place where things were quieter and there was no resident cockatoo or intolerant wife. As he said this I knew that there was a story coming up so I topped up our wines and sat back. Bob and I leaned back on our four-gallon drums sipping the hot wine, while Jim started to explain why he had a large chunk of Elastoplast stuck on the side of his left hand. It was all because of Elmer. About a metre of water pipe welded upright on to an old plough disc and a tee-piece holding a couple more pieces of pipe was the home of Jim's cockatoo named Elmer, a pet since childhood. Elmer had two tins attached to downstairs kitchen, bathroom and laundry of the typical two-storey Queensland house - just a little bit unfinished. But at night, a thin chain around his leg attached him to a ring on the central pole of the perch to keep him out of trouble and he was placed on a pad of newspaper in one corner of the kitchen. It seems that two nights previously, Jim and his wife Jenny were asleep in the upstairs bedroom when Jenny was awoken by Elmer screeching blue murder - or in this case attempted murder. Jim was sleeping heavily beside her, because he had been testing the wine that he was going to share with us before we arrived, like any good host would. Eventually he woke up when Jenny's kicking reached atomic proportions. Using simple words uttered very convincingly she directed Jim to proceed downstairs and "see what's making your bloody parrot squawk!" Bleary-eyed and stark naked, Jim staggered down and found about a quarter of a big Scrub Python twined around the vertical post of Elmer's stand. Scrub Pythons are reputedly Australia's longest and biggest snake, and after he was able to be measured, this one proved to be more than six metres long, which is one big snake. When he turned on the feeble six volt light, Jim saw a lengthy bit of snake still on the kitchen floor and the bit with the head on it was level with Elmer's and was obviously thinking of a late supper. Elmer was on the absolute end of his perch, chain stretched tight. Every time the snake moved, Elmer fluttered up to the end of the
chain flapping frantically while apparently trying to lift plough disc and perch into the air and away from danger. Being over 50 years old and equipped with about as many feathers as my hand has fingers, this was quite a commendable effort, particularly as he was squawking at the same time. Taking in the situation at a glance as they say, Jim stumbled to the rescue. Thinking swiftly, he grabbed the Scrub Python around the neck, but the snake objected to being held, thinking that all Jim should have done was tie a serviette around his neck, not grab and squeeze. Using the bit of his body that he still had on the ground, the snake put a couple of curls around Jim's leg in retaliation. Unfortunately for Jim, these curls were about as thick as his leg. Understandably, this threw the rescuer off balance and he grabbed Elmer's perch to steady himself. This proved to be a mistake because Elmer mistook the hand of salvation for a piece of snake and sank his beak deep into the side of the hand. In fact he sank it so deeply that both sides of his beak met and he couldn't be shaken loose. Elmer held on to the thrashing hand and arm for grim death, which he could probably see approaching, despite being half-blinded with spurting blood (which mercifully had been hosed off the floor before Bob and I arrived). Jim's only solution to the predicament was to pull the snake off his leg but he made the mistake of trying to use both hands, including the one Elmer was fastened to. Having blinked away some of the blood that had been blinding him, Elmer could now see what was what and he wasn't going to let that shiny body any closer to him than necessary. Each time the snake-holding hand came near him he bit deeper into the hand in his possession and shook his head from side to side to indicate "No!" Jim's eyes were beginning to water and he screamed to Jenny for help just as the python managed to topple him over. Python, parrot, Jim, seed and water thrashed around in a squirming mess on the floor as he heard, "It's your bloody parrot, you sort it out." Adding emphasis to her instructions, Jenny slammed the door to the upstairs portion of the house excluding all the actors in this drama and most of the noise. Having brought Jim down to his own level the snake proceeded to throw a couple of coils around his neck and Jim told us that things were beginning to get a little hazy. Hoping that his frantic geriatric pet would excuse him, Jim began battering on the floor with his bitten hand - parrot still attached. This brutal treatment by his faithful friend eventually became too much for Elmer and he released Jim's hand and flapped off to the end of his chain to let Jim battle the python by himself. It took a great effort, he said, still breathless at the thought of it, to unwind those strong coils of snake from his neck. The snake was probably thinking the same thing, because his neck was still being firmly grasped by the more-or-less non-bloody hand of the retired herpetologist who was not going to let this prize specimen escape easily. Finally gaining the upper hand as it were, Jim dragged his captive over to the big glass case where Bob and I had first seen him and popped him in. I glanced over to check that
the strong cover held down with a big rock was still in place as Jim continued with the story. Elmer was restored to his perch and his water and seed tins refilled. Then Jim crept back up the stairs and knocked at the locked door. Taking pity on him and hearing no further noise, Jenny opened the door. One look and she screamed with horror but after a second glance she burst into laughter. Jim was covered in blood to which had stuck the sunflower seeds along with a couple of parrot feathers. "That bloody kitchen had better be spotless when I come down tomorrow," she said through gritted teeth, slamming the door again and directing him to the outside shower - only equipped with freezing cold water piped directly from the creek. Anyway, he made it through the night and was alive although still not well when we arrived two days later and he told us this story. Pointedly, and perhaps sensing another dramatic night, Jenny went in to the town to see a film while Bob and I were entertained by Jim. Our night was probably less dramatic than hers considering the state of the track out and the condition of the vehicle she had to drive. Our only excitement was that while Jim provided a scientific description of the Scrub Python, a friendly little Green Tree Snake regularly shot back and forth across the rafters above our heads striking at moths fluttering in the feeble glow of the six volt light. "Look, I'll show you how the anterior supralabials of the Scrub Python are deeply pitted," he said about to remove the big rock. "Leave the bastard in there," one of us said pouring just a tiny drop of wine as a nightcap. Later that night we chose the camping tents with zips on their doors as our places of rest, which was rather strange for two bushies that only ever slept in swags thrown down on the ground.
DL17210
EXPLOREX CARAVANS 66 Prestige Parade, Wangara
