The Crocodile Hunter: The Incredible Life and Adventures of Steve and Terri Irwin by Steve Irwin, Terri Irwin Page B

guard.
    “Use your instincts, Stevo, use your instincts,” I kept muttering to myself as I finally got all the trap gear into the mass of twisting mangrove roots.
    Pulling my knife, I started clearing the site. The weight of the long blade felt good in my hand; it became an extension of my arm. Sweat poured from my body as I positioned the trap and tied it off. An hour slipped away. I was transfixed with work, contemplating the arduous task of hauling the mud bag twenty feet up into the mangrove branches, when I realized the tide had crept up to my site.
    Repositioning the boat so it was between me and the ever-deepening water, I cautioned Chilli to stay in the boat. She just sat there watching my every move with ever-adoring eyes.
    “Now comes the hard part,” I told her.
    I climbed up an overhanging mangrove tree to a good solid fork and began struggling and straining; inch by inch I hauled up the heavy weight bag. With it secured for the moment, I climbed down to the trap. The incoming tide was now covering the floor of the trap. Better move quick or I’ll be working underwater, I thought.
    While tying off the strings that support the trap, I watched the water rushing in. The boat swung out into the increasing tidal current, and as the water rose above my knees, the sun was starting to set.
    I turned away from the deep water to secure the last of the strings when an overwhelming sensation of being stalked stopped me in my tracks. Quickly I turned to face the water.
    “Knock it off, Stevo, you’re spooking yourself,” I said, trying to reassure myself there was no danger and fighting the fear.
    I turned to finish my job when Chilli let out an almighty scream. I didn’t turn to look—I grabbed at the mangroves and pulled myself into the branches, waiting for the thump of jaw pressure hitting my body. I scrambled higher and higher. Safe in the fork of the tree with the weight bag, I relaxed and took a look.
    Nothing. I could see nothing. Chilli was going ballistic, barking aggressively at the water below the boat.

    Another close call.
    “It’s OK, girl,” I called out. “There’s nothing there!”
    Bang! The boat jerked at a force that hit from below so hard that Chilli fell onto the floor. She regained her posture and continued to bark frantically at the water. A huge swirl churned the muddy waters.
    Thump! Again something bumped the bottom of the boat, making it jerk as if it had run aground. Helplessly stuck in the tree, I beckoned Chilli to settle down. She wouldn’t, no way. Bark, bark, bark, bark!
    “Dad! Dad! There’s a croc under the boat!” she was screaming in dog language.
    “I know, sweetheart. Settle down, pull your head in,” I pleaded with her. “Please, Chilli! Sit, babe, sit.” I was sure that before my eyes the croc was going to explode from the murk and pull her out of the boat by her head.
    Knowing I would take a hit if I climbed down and went for the boat, I located a long branch and swiftly sliced through it with my knife, stripping off the leaves and twigs. Chilli continued to bark so hard she was going off the Richter scale.
    I struck out at my boat with the stick, but it was too short. My life depending on stealth and accuracy, I climbed down toward the water. Again I struck out with the stick, this time catching the side of the bow just enough to get purchase and draw the boat toward me.
    With the boat directly under me again, I pulled out my knife and jumped straight into the boat. Jarring my ankles on impact, I raised my razor-like blade and in one slice cut the anchor rope, swung at the outboard, and fired it up with one pull. Thank goodness! I jammed it into reverse and gunned it.
    Feeling secure in the boat, I slowed in the middle of the river, keeping the motor idling. I stared at the water immediately in front of the trap site. Nothing, not even a swirl. Whew! Dad’s right, this croc has got one hell of an attitude. Confident the croc was being intimidated by the