Rarmarta's Journey

• Hannah Walsh, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2013

Glimmering rays of light penetrated the canopy above the young journalist, and warmed the earth beneath her as she made her way through the Matakari Mountains. Amelia Rarmarta had been sent on her first adventure, to locate and capture the rare Wakatipu Frog, and she wasn't about to let the public down. Dense vegetation full of life and fauna rich in colour surrounded the tall, slim figure but the petite orange frog with flawless purple stripes she desired was no where to be found.

Gentle winds were brewing, blowing Rarmarta's chestnut brown hair behind her as she trudged further and further, determined as a lion hunting its prey. The once quintessential sky had transformed into a dirty array of clouds and the tranquil sound of water flowing from a cliff face was over powered by the faint rumble of thunder establishing.

It was when the transparent droplets of rain began pelting the rims of Rarmarta's glasses that she decided to set up camp at the next clearing. But by the time it came thunder rumbled as loud as a hungry man's stomach and lightening crashed. Crash! Boom! Crash! Powerful winds howled and rain poured like there was a hole in the sky. Was it safe to venture further?

Not long after setting up a tent frustrated in the rain, it's pegs came loose and it ended up tangled in a nearby tree. Rarmarta was not in luck. Then came a CRACK before a 10,000-pound rock began its quick journey down the cliff face towards the campsite! With no time to lose she began to run as fast as a gazelle. The bolder was catching up, crushing everything in its path. Suddenly a hand appeared out of nowhere, took a firm grasp of her wrist and pulled her into a cave hidden amongst the forest. As she stumbled off balance inside, she collided with a rocky ledge and fell unconscious onto the sandy floor.

The next morning Rarmarta woke to the sickening smell of smoke and the unexpected sight of an Aboriginal man in cloth sitting by a fire. He had saved her. But as she sat up with a foggy head and a bird’s nest of hair ready to express her gratitude she noticed something in the corner of her eye, an orange frog with purple stripes. She had found it, the Wakatipu Frog.

The man introduced himself as Allambie and spent the morning sharing his story. These mountains had once been the home of hundreds of Aboriginal people like him, but when the area was classified as a National Park the government declared they all had to leave. Allambie's wife had been gravely ill and was in no condition to move, so they decided to hide and stay. After she died the Wakatipu Frog was the only thing that stayed at his side and reminded him of what had been. She couldn't take the frog from him, but she would return with a story like no other.