Ten-year-old best friends Jeremy and Gerard are quiet, country-bred, peace-loving souls who respect nature. They enjoy each other's company as much as they enjoy fishing in the river near their families' farms. Their peaceful existence is threatened, however, when they witness two bullies-Joey and Lance-destroy the sports pavilion. Jeremy and Gerard report the crime to the authorities, and now the miscreants plan to get even. During the first attack, Joey and Lance follow Jeremy and Gerard to their favorite fishing hole; as the two ten-year-olds try to escape on their bicycles, Joey and Lance run them down in their jalopy. As the assault begins, Jeremy and Gerard are saved by the intervention of Game Warden Herman Gordon. Impressed by the honesty and integrity of the two little boys, Herman befriends Jeremy and Gerard and takes them to his special fishing spot and on a weekend camping trip. They form a special relationship that warms the hearts of their respective families.

Herman, the Mentor

By Howard Reede-Pelling

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2011 Howard Reede-Pelling
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4269-5229-6

Contents

1 The Fete.................................................12 The Game Warden..........................................63 Herman's Secret Spot.....................................124 A Smelly Little Man......................................195 A Fright — Then Bliss..............................246 The Outing...............................................307 The Larrikins............................................388 A Fun Week-end...........................................469 The Fairgrounds..........................................5410 An Explosive Situation..................................6111 Caught — and the Arrangements.....................6912 The Happy Holiday.......................................7613 A Frightening ordeal....................................8414 The Stranger............................................9115 The Way Home............................................9916 An Accident.............................................10717 Herman Steps In.........................................11518 The New Hand............................................12419 The Family Day Picnic...................................13320 A Woolly Problem........................................14121 The Rescuers............................................14922 Jane Returns............................................15823 A Black Experience......................................16624 The Art Exhibition......................................17525 The Mentor is fulfilled.................................184

Chapter One

The Fete

Jeremy strained hard upon the ropes of his toboggan. It carried a full cardboard box of apples. It was a very large box; in fact, it was the biggest box he could find in the pile of empties that Mister Jenkins allowed him to select from. Jeremy came to wish that he had not been so ambitious, for in having a very large box; the extra apples added more weight. Now it was his task to drag this heavy load back to the house, as he had faithfully promised his mother he would do. Why Jeremy chose his toboggan as a vehicle instead of his billy-cart, he did not know. Perhaps it may have been the fact that one of the wheels of the billy-cart wobbled dramatically. Jeremy feared that it was about to fall off. Jeremy's father owned a very large farm. There were many sheep, three horses, one of which was the pride and joy of Jeremy, for it was given to him as a birthday present when he became ten years of age. Jeremy really loved his `Bessie', she was rather old as horses go — the same age as Jeremy in fact — which made her about forty years old in human terms. His father classed her as a `hack' and ideal in temperament for such an exuberant youngster such as him. On the farm were a couple of windmills, one near the house for personal needs when the tanks were low and the other in the outer paddocks for the hundred head of Herefords that his father cherished, for they were top breeding stock. However sheep were the main source of income and there were eight hundred of them. Three milking cows, a litter of piglets and a run of chickens comprised all of the livestock; not counting the two kelpies his dad needed to round up the stock, of course. Sam and Bluey were really more like family than part of the farm animals though! The orchard covered some three acres and at the time was being harvested. The seasonal pickers were hard at work and when Jeremy was asked by his teacher, Miss Purdie, for something to donate to the school's annual fete; Jeremy suggested that he would ask his parents if they would give some apples. So it happened that the boy was allowed to take as many apples as he could manage, provided that he took only the `windfalls' — those apples which had fallen to the ground. Jeremy had done so and therefore was struggling and straining to get his huge cardboard box of apples home. He was relieved that his parents had suggested that they would drop the box of apples off at the school, when next they took he and his little sister Karen. The track, over which Jeremy had to drag his toboggan, was in parts grassy but much of it was hard-packed dirt. The boy ceased his struggles for a breather, the while he looked about for some means of assistance. It was at this time that one of the Jersey cows offered her advice.

"Of course!" Jeremy smiled as he mumbled to himself, "Maisy would love to help — I will get some rope!" Jeremy ran to the cowshed, a happy gleam in his eyes.

The strange sight of one of his milkers being gently led past the kitchen window towards the front verandah, pulling a toboggan upon which was a box full of apples; caused the head of the household to hail his wife.

"Hey Yvonne! Look at young Jeremy, the little scamp!"

"Oh, I always knew our boy was very resourceful!" Yvonne proudly claimed, as she slipped her slim arms about her husband's waist.

"He is a chip off the old block, for sure." Matt nodded as he planted a soft kiss upon his wife's forehead.

"Yes. He is a clever little bloke but I wonder how he is going to lift that heavy box up on to the verandah? Let us slip up to the front door and watch!"

They hurried there and unknown to their son, eagerly witnessed the amazing sight.

Jeremy dragged the wooden lid off the wood box by the back door, lugged it to the small flight of steps where he laid it so he could lead Maisy and enables her to drag his toboggan up the lid and on to the verandah. Leaving the box of apples on the toboggan, the boy led Maisy back to the pasture and released her, with a thankful friendly slap upon the rump. Returning to the verandah, the youngster tugged the toboggan out of the way and up against the wall of the house. His brown eyes sparkled with satisfaction beneath the crop of unruly black hair, which cascaded about the boy's ears. His thin wiry frame straightened as he placed hands upon hips and heaved a heavy sigh of complete satisfaction, for a job well done.

"Gee! I bet Miss Purdie will be very pleased with that lot!" He murmured to himself.

The boy's parents heard the whispered remark and returned to the kitchen to await Jeremy, for they knew he would come to them and explain that the fruit was ready for transportation.

The school fete was a very well patronised event. It was one of the many social happenings that held small country communities together, a chance for hard-working farmers and business people to intermingle and exchange ideas and indeed; help each other with goods and advice. While the adults were conversing or selling the donated goods to assist with the local school's funding, those children not actively participating with the fete, played on the school ground equipment or gathered in isolated corners of the school grounds; discussing those things which were of interest to them.

Jeremy had dutifully spent an hour selling his apples which the cooking class at school had dipped in toffee. He was very happy that they were selling well. His mother urged Jeremy to go and play awhile, as she would look after the stall for him. Grateful to be let off the hook, the youngster eagerly sought his best mate Gerard and the two gleefully ran to the sports oval; to get away from the bustle of the fete. Both were peace-loving souls who could sit and fish for hours with very few words between them. They were quiet, country-bred boys, imbued with common sense and taught to respect nature and enjoy the bounties to be found in the solitude of the bush. As Jeremy and Gerard quietly conversed in the meagre shade afforded by the uprights of the oval fence; they became aware of two teen-agers who strolled across the sports ground and headed towards the timber and brick pavilion. Each had a beer can in one hand and a half-eaten toffee-apple in the other. Cigarettes dangled from their lips.

"That is Joey Gruntz but I do not know the big bloke!" Jeremy whispered to his cobber.

"I think he is a friend of Gruntzy — he is just up for the weekend — I heard my sister talking about him to Flossy Barnes!" Gerard announced.

"Wonder where they are going" Jeremy queried.

"Who cares?" Gerard answered.

"I want to follow them and see, I bet they are up to no good!" Jeremy persisted.

"It is none of our business!" Gerard worried.

The two youngsters stayed where they were as the youths disappeared behind the pavilion. A smashing of glass caused the younger boys to jump up and hurry to see what the cause of the breakage was. Deep down inside they had a good idea what caused it and the bigger boys were heavily suspected. And so it proved. Jeremy and Gerard cautiously peeped in through the broken window, to behold the larrikins causing havoc within the building. They were wilfully tossing any object that was not attached to a solid foundation, from one place to another. The floor was littered with debris. As the younger boys watched, the visitor began to jemmy open lockers with an iron rod, which he had yanked from the window. It was used to bar the window locked. Joey Gruntz suddenly looked to the window and saw the two boys watching.

"Get them!" Joey ordered, as he charged towards the boys. By the time the youths were outside the damaged building and had raced around the corner, Jeremy and Gerard were well and truly off the oval and racing back to the fete at the school grounds and the safety of their parents company. The boys raised the alarm which had most of the menfolk and many of the women and children, hurry to the pavilion to witness for themselves, the carnage reported by the two youngsters. Of course the vandals were gone by the time the townsfolk arrived. They were appalled with the wanton destruction. It was apparent that another fund-raiser would now be needed to restore the sporting facility. The stupidity of the destruction caused much chagrin amongst the locals, as council funds were already stretched to the limit. Matt sighed as he noted.

"The pavilion needed restoration but not a complete overhaul, like that which will be necessary now!" Most of those within hearing concurred.

Meanwhile, Joey Gruntz and his city friend were puffing cigarettes as they sprawled atop the wooden garden table by the local picnic barbeque.

"Those little squirts will have dobbed on us by now; we should have grabbed the little blighters when we had the chance!" Joey snarled. His city friend agreed.

"Yeah! And it ain't too late; we got to find them and frighten the living daylights out of them!" Joey shook his head.

"Course it's too late, they've already told; but that don't mean we can't belt the daylights outa them later!"

Chapter Two

The Game Warden

Sunday mornings were quiet times for the farming community. After the cows were milked, the stock fed and the minor chores that fell to the junior members of any family were attended, then it was freedom for those juniors. After the morning church service, of course. Jeremy and Gerard made their way to a favourite fishing area which was easily accessible to the boys. Although they were neighbours, both of their farms were reasonably large and the lads needed to use their bicycles to get to the river from which they fished. As with most waterways, public access was allowed along the banks. Many fishermen, and indeed fisherwomen, could be found restfully whiling away the hours along the winding length of the slow-moving river. The two youngsters found the preferred section where they were wont to fish. It was rather secluded in that the river wound snake-like, leaving a peninsular which was heavily shrubbed amongst the large stand of eucalyptus gums. Their bicycles were easily hidden in the bushes if they chose to do so, but because of the peninsular, there was little need to hide their bicycles at all. If the boys decided to wander the banks, seeking the elusive fish, they could do that without fear of leaving their transport to be stolen. As the two settled down with rods in hand and lines in the water, a chugging splutter sounded as of a motor vehicle in its last stages of demise. The noise was getting closer to the peninsular where Jeremy and Gerard were fishing. Of a sudden, with a final splutter, quiet returned to the bushland as the motor ceased its struggles.

"Must be a fisherman!" Gerard stated.

"Yeah! But the people that fish here usually come from the city and they don't have old rattle-traps!" Jeremy astutely advised. The boys fished in silence.

A murmur of voices alerted the two young fishermen, that they were not alone on their peninsular. Jeremy quickly rose and peered from behind a huge gum down the winding path along which they rode their bicycles earlier. He could see no one. Gerard joined him and together the boys crept from cover to cover towards the voices.

"Crikey!" Jeremy whispered in alarm. "It's that Joey and the new kid — bet they are after us — quick, pack our gear and let's scoot!"

Both boys hurried to their equipment and speedily packed it.

"We should hide our bikes in the bushes and us too!" Gerard panicked.

"No! They could still find us and we'd get killed. Best to make a run for it down the other track!" Jeremy advised.

The boys had their gear strapped to the bicycles and were mounting them, as the two angry young men sighted the terrified boys.

"There they are Lance. Grab the little -!

Too late, the small legs were urging their metal steeds to the utmost and were well out of sight before they could be apprehended.

"Quick — the car — we'll run them down!" Lance shouted.

The bullies raced back to their ancient vehicle, well aware that the children could not out-pace them. The frightened boys groaned as they heard the old vehicle splutter into motion after a couple of mis-firings of the engine.

Four healthy little legs pummelling iron were no match for the ancient machinery of a motor vehicle and the boys were very soon caught up with, by the laughing louts. As the car approached from the rear, Jeremy cast a terrified glance behind, to behold the car almost upon him. He veered heavily to his left to let it pass but in doing so, collided with his friend. Both screaming boys crashed into a large shrub, where they lay tangled together with their bicycles on top of them and legs entwined in the machines. Their fall was cushioned by the bush and they were not seriously injured. The car skidded to a stop and two happy louts approached the stricken youngsters.

"Gotcha, you pair of snivelling little blabber-mouths!"

Joey snarled as he lifted the bikes to get at the children.

"This one's mine!"

Lance called as he dragged the fair-haired Gerard out of the bushes and threw him to the middle of the track, where he delivered a hefty kick to the little boy's ribs. Gerard screamed in agony as Jeremy received like treatment from Joey.

"Let's toss them into the river!" Lance urged.

"Hey, what a great idea!" Joey agreed. "Come on you two; time for a swim!"

Each youth yanked a boy to his feet and shoved the unwilling and very sore little boys ahead of them, to the river; which parallelled the bush track. The youths were in the act of swinging the two youngsters off their feet and into the river, when a loud stentorian voice hailed.

"Oy! What is going on there?"

The voice belonged to a very large fisherman who happened to be passing and noted the car and fallen bicycles. His keen, alert eyes bristling with anger beneath a floppy fishing hat bedecked with flies and lures, as he hurried to the suspicious scene.

"Whatcha want?" The belligerent city lout ordered.

The man saw the terrified looks upon the faces of the two little boys turn to relief, as they attempted to go to the newcomer.

"They want to toss us into the river!" Gerard snivelled.

"No we weren't!" Joey defended.

"We just brought them here to wash up, `cause they fell off their bikes!"

"You tried to run us down!" Jeremy accused.

"Did not — you panicked as we were trying to pass!"

Joey hissed his grip on the boy's arm tightened fiercely.

"Ouch! You are hurting me!" Jeremy cried.

"Let the boys go or I will break your rotten necks!"

The fisherman charged forwards, fists ready to thrash these bullies.

"Come on, let's go. These little brats are ungrateful liars anyway!"

Lance and Joey beat a hasty retreat to their dilapidated vehicle. Before driving off, each drove a hefty foot into the spokes of a bicycle. They drove away, still threatening dire reprisals upon the two boys who seemed to thwart them each time they met.

"Thank you Mister!" Jeremy reached out to shake the man by the hand. He responded and asked.

"Do you boys know these bullies?"

"Only Joey Gruntz, the little one. We don't know who the big one is except that he comes from the city!" Jeremy softly said, still trembling with fright.

"They wrecked our sports pavilion and we saw them, that's why they kicked us!" Gerard spoke up, and then began to sniffle as he added. "They were going to drown us!"

He broke down completely.

"There, there!" The big man patted the tiny shoulders. "Don't cry little man, it is all over now. Let us see if your bicycles are damaged!"

He led the way and asked what they meant by saying that the youths kicked them.

"When they dragged the bikes off and threw us onto the road — they kicked us — look, see the sore part?" Jeremy raised his shirt and singlet, exposing his ribs.

"Wow! That is a nasty bruise — what about you son?" The man kneeled down as Gerard exposed his ribs too.

"The rotten hounds, I wish that I knew about this before — no — perhaps it is better that I did not know. You poor little blokes! Here are your bicycles — gosh - you certainly wrecked them; didn't you?"

Both machines had a buckled wheel.

"Gee! We did not hit anything, we just fell off into the bushes; how did they get bent like that?" The man noted the youth-sized footprints but said nothing to the children.

"Listen boys — er — what are your names?" The man asked. They told him.

"I am Herman Gordon. Now I know your parents have warned you not to ride with strangers, but your cycles are broken and you are much bruised. I really think I should drive you and your bicycles home!"

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Herman, the Mentorby Howard Reede-Pelling Copyright © 2011 by Howard Reede-Pelling. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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