Cat Of The South

• Jessica Stute, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2016

The creature’s eyes gleamed gold in the darkness, scanning the area for its target. It crouched and began to stalk through the high grass, its eyes locked on its prey. Suddenly an explosion cracked the night’s silence. White-hot pain pierced the creature’s side for a moment, before the blackness took over.
Nick Harvey jogged towards the long grass that the sheep never ate. It was good to stretch after being cramped in the camouflaged hut for half an hour. The foxes were particularly active this spring. Eight lambs had been taken in the past week, and the Harveys were determined to stop that, using the tranquiliser gun his mother and twin sister had insisted on. Nick swept his torch over the ground before the beam landed on a dark shape. Nick jogged towards it, but when the creature came into full view, Nick dropped the torch and reeled back in horror. This was no fox.
“Mum, Dad, Alicia! You’re never going to believe this!” yelled Nick as he raced through the front door. “Is everything alright?” asked his father leaping to his feet. “No! Come on!” urged Nick. His father sped out the door, pulling on his boots.” I’m coming to!” cried Alicia, and the three of them raced out the door.
“Where is the thing?” cried Mr. Harvey. “Over there,” answered Nick, pointing to where he’d last seen the animal. “What does it look like?” questioned Alicia. “You’ll see in a minute. And not so loud, you’ll wake it up,” replied her brother. “Why are you worried about it waking up?” Alicia was beginning to doubt her decision to come. “Dad, there’s nothing out here that will hurt us, is there?” You know the answer to that as well as I do,” snapped her father, he was clearly losing patience. But at that moment, his light swung onto the animal, and they all gasped. “It’s a panther,” said Alicia breathlessly.
When Nick walked into the kitchen the next morning, he found his mother and sister making pancakes, and his father reading the paper. He glanced up when Nick entered. “I’ve called the authorities,” he announced. “They should be here around twelve.” Nick looked hungrily at the pan. “When are those pancakes going to be ready?”
The authorities were in no hurry. After a cup of tea and a slice of cake, they wandered outside. Mick and Joe were the names of the men and both seemed quite friendly. When they reached the cage, the panther lay there, glaring at them. The one called Mick shot the panther through the bars of the cage and its head lolled. Joe opened the door, ready to take a blood sample, but as he did, the panther shot through his legs and towards the bush. With one last look at the astonished faces, the panther slipped into the shrubbery. This wasn’t its first escape, and it certainly wouldn’t be its last. The end