Prologue

 

Not so long ago a young boy was lying on his stomach, reading about knights and soldiers, when he noticed a tiny white egg on one of the pages.

 

From this egg an ant emerged, and the boy trained it to walk on two feet, use swords and carry a shield. The ant’s name was Moresby.

But tragedy struck! A fierce storm swept across the land. It picked up Moresby from his shelter and carried him far away.

Moresby is still trying to get home today and everywhere he travels his legend grows.

It is the legend of an ant who defends the rights of lesser insects, who vanquishes evil.

 

This is the tale of Moresby and…..

 

The Lost Tribe

 

Moresby squinted and raised one hand to shield against the blazing sun. The heat reminded him of a magnifying glass he had once seen focused upon a leaf, causing it to burst into flames.

In front of him was an expanse of salt that seemed to stretch to the horizon. Perhaps he had been unwise to leave the road, even though it had twisted away from the direction he wanted to go. It had been dangerous too, because of the bull-ants that seemed to love the gravel that edged the side of the black bitumen. At times it had been one long fight, one bull-ant nest to another.

But to avoid them had meant striking out across the country, and now he had come across this, a lake of white crystals. A hot, inhospitable place with no shelter from the sun! A place where nothing survived! The humans must have created the lake for some strange reason.

He knew he was lucky to be an ant, not losing moisture easily, but he still had to be careful because ants did die through dehydration. Moresby searched for some seeds that would provide him with sufficient food for his journey across the salt pan. He tied two small seeds onto the underside of his shield, carried another underneath his abdomen, and took his first step onto the salt lake. As the heat swamped him, he wondered how one step could have made so much difference. He lowered his head and strode forward.

For the rest of that day Moresby marched onward, not meeting any other insects. Late in the afternoon he found the withered skeleton of a grasshopper. Moresby sheltered under its transparent shade for a rest but fell asleep. Two hours late he woke, feeling energised. He crawled out from beneath the husk, checked his bearings against the sky and his own previously left trail, and began his march again.

Even though the sun was dropping the heat on the salt pan was as draining as before. Moresby kept his eyes focused on the next step. There were no predators here, not even lizards. It was just a blinding blast of sun, reflecting off the crystallized ground.

By nightfall Moresby knew he had to find water. Despite his tiredness he pushed himself to keep up the pace he had maintained for most of the day. With no sun in his face he was able to lift his heavy head. And he marvelled at the lack of noise. Even on the bitumen there was a faint buzz of flies, or the thin vibrations caused by various mini-beasts. Out here, the only sound was the wind and the crunching sound of his feet on salt. Once he had heard a fly, but when Moresby looked up it was already a speck in the distance.

As he continued he came across marks in the salt. Some large animals had come this way recently. Perhaps it was a commonly used track across the saltpan. Moresby smelled the air, hoping for the scent of animal, but the only odour was of salt.

The sky was still dark, the air still cool. Moresby puzzled how the humans could make something so unlike their lush gardens in the city. He trudged onwards. After another hour he sat down. It would be light in two hours. Then he would force himself to rise again, and continue his march. He took the shield off his back and lay with it partially covering his body, and he fell asleep again.

Moresby woke quickly. He had smelled the scent of ants and felt the thin tremors through the ground. Instinctively he swung his shield above his head and felt it impact upon an ant and he heard a scream.

Moresby leaped to his feet, with two swords drawn, and his shield making a smooth arc around his body. But the adrenalin that surged through him subsided as he looked at his ‘attackers’.

There were thirty thin, wretched looking ants, all cowering before him. Moresby looked at the ant on the ground, the result of his earlier lunge. Moresby’s expression changed from one of defiance to pity. All of the ants were children.

‘Where are the older ants?’ he asked. ‘The queen and the soldier ants? Where are the workers?’

‘It is just us,’ answered a small ant to his left whose name was Crystal. ‘We don’t know of any others. When we came out of our eggs, the nest was empty.’

Thoughts of human interference flooded Moresby. Perhaps the parents were poisoned or crushed by machinery. Perhaps the eggs in the nest had been accidentally transported to this strange place.

Moresby leaned over the ant on the ground. His shield had bruised the ants’ abdomen, but he would be okay. Moresby helped him to his feet.

‘Where is your colony?’ Moresby asked.

Moresby noticed that the ants were staring at the seeds underneath his shield and the seed strapped to his abdomen.

He took out his two swords and stared icily at the small ants. ‘If any one of you comes close to my food I will not hesitate to use my swords.’

He held their attention and he knew that the little ants would hesitate before trying to get his seeds.

‘Where is your colony?’ he asked again.

‘We will show you where we live,’ answered Crystal.

Moresby thought the small ants were so weak they posed very little threat at all. His overwhelming feeling was to help them. After some hours Moresby was led to a pile of white bones that provided some shelter from the heat of the day. The small ants collapsed in the shade, and Moresby wondered if they would manage to get up again.

‘Is this it?’ he asked. ‘Where is your store of food?’ Where is your shelter from the sun?’

The ants didn’t answer him, and Moresby’ heart reached out. He knew that his seeds would provide some strength, but it would only last a small time. Perhaps he should go back the way he had come and return with more food but would he be able to carry enough!

He had to try and get these ants out of the saltpan. He didn’t think they’d have the strength to walk for two days, back the way he had come, and the way forward could even be worse. Moresby was tired himself but if he fell asleep the little ants would almost certainly go for his food? They would fight amongst themselves and some ants would miss out.

Moresby grabbed the seed that was under his abdomen. As he did so the small ants turned their eyes to him. Moresby laid it on the ground and then used his mandibles to break it into small portions. As he did so the small ants raised themselves and moved towards him. After he had broken up the seed into bite sized pieces he handed them out. The ants scoffed down the small amount of food, then stayed there, eyeing the other two seeds on his shield.

Moresby stood tall and addressed them. ‘If you stay here you are going to die. There is no food, no water. There is no shelter. You are wasting away.’

The ants gave little response they were listening. It was as though they had already accepted their fate. Some were still staring at the other two seeds.

‘If you come with me there is a chance you will survive, but if you stay here, death will come to you soon.’

‘If we go with you we will die in the heat!’ said Crystal.

‘We already are dying,’ said another small ant. ‘What do we have to lose?’

‘What do you promise us?’ asked Crystal.

‘I can’t promise you anything,’ said Moresby. ‘Except that I will try to save you.’

‘What do we have to do?’ she asked.

‘Go and get any stored food and water. Get anything else you need for a long journey. You won’t be coming back here. Take nothing heavy, only things which will help you survive for two days on the salt pan.’

‘We have nothing to take. We can’t survive two days on the move,’ said Crystal.

‘Then you will die here,’ answered Moresby.

‘Will two days get us out of the salt and into greenery again?’

Moresby stared at Jude. ‘No! It won’t. We have to trek across the open salt pan for two days. Then we must find a hollow often used by larger animals to rest in. Then we have to wait until an animal comes along.   Then we have to climb onto it and travel with it until it reaches the greenery. Then we climb off and find food and water.’

‘Suicide,’ called Crystal.

‘It is suicide to stay here. Look at you?’

‘What you are asking is impossible. An animal may not come along for two or three days. It may not even stop. Or it may stop on top of us and kill us all with its weight.’

‘If we die, we die trying. Or you can sit here until you waste away.’

Crystal’s shoulders slumped. ‘We will all die.’

Moresby suddenly became aware of how many of the ants were listening closely to what Crystal was saying. He walked over to the young ant and whispered to her. ‘Crystal! The other ants look up to you. They are guided by you. Their fate is in your hands. I need you to help me save them.’

She studied the ragged young faces and became aware of how thin they were, how gaunt their faces. If she followed Moresby and some died, how would she be able to cope with the guilt?

‘What are we going to do?’ asked a small ant, leaning against Crystal.

Crystal pushed herself to standing position. ‘He is right Samuel. Death waits for us here. We must move on.’

Moresby nodded his thanks. ‘In that case, I want you Crystal to take up the rear. No one falls behind. We lose no one. We go now.’

Moresby turned and walked into the desert, and a raggedy line of ants followed. He walked quickly, knowing he was setting a quick pace, however, he also knew that now was the time to get the most distance from the small ants. After two hours he noticed that Crystal was carrying Samuel. At this rate she wouldn’t last the distance. Moresby called a halt at a small grey stick rising up from the saltpan. Some minutes later, Crystal staggered into the small amount of shade, and collapsed onto the ground.

‘We rest here for fifteen minutes,’ ordered Moresby.

After twenty minutes Moresby stood. ‘We must move on. Crystal take the rear as before. Samuel! I want you up front with me.’

Before Crystal could object Moresby had Samuel sitting on his shoulders, and he was leading the way again.

On and on they trudged. The salt pan stretched on endlessly. Moresby reduced the pace, setting it more by what the ants could handle rather than the speed he wanted to travel.

The night came and went. Walk for two hours and rest for half an hour. That was the regime Moresby set. They stayed within sight of each other. Moresby stayed at the front, carrying little Samuel, and even though he was exhausted, he knew that his own energy reserves were so much more than the sad little band behind him.

At different times an ant fell exhausted to the ground. The others stood where they had stopped, listless, not knowing what to do. Moresby was the one who often went back to the fallen ant and dragged him up. And as the night progressed Moresby carried two ants instead of one. He staggered under their weight, but kept up the pace as best he could. As daylight came Moresby found vehicle tracks left by humans. They crawled into the indentations and most were soon asleep.

Moresby crawled into his own tyre track indentation and instantly fell asleep. An hour later he became aware of movement and voices around him. He kept his eyes closed but listened carefully.

‘The seeds should be under his shield. They aren’t there.’

‘They aren’t under his abdomen either.’

‘What about in his bag?’

‘We’d wake him if we try to get at it. They wouldn’t fit in there anyway.’

‘He must have eaten them.’

‘He wouldn’t have. We’ll ask him when he wakes. Let’s get some sleep.’

The voices trailed away and Moresby dropped back to sleep. It was late in the afternoon when he woke. He rubbed his face and stood up, looking over the edge of the salt pan. The sun’s glare and heat almost knocked him backwards. He settled back in the hole and dug into the salt to retrieve the seeds. They were both where he had left them. He placed them back under his shield and became accustomed to the light again.

They would have to start moving again, before the scent he had left three days before, was lost completely. Moresby moved from one ant to another, waking them up.

Suddenly he heard a yell from Crystal. Moresby ran to where she stood, gazing out over the salt pan.

‘What is wrong Crystal?’

‘Samuel has gone.’

‘What do you mean gone?’

‘He knew he was slowing us down. I told him he wasn’t and that he was being silly. I told him.’

Moresby leaped into the indentation that Crystal had just climbed from, and placed his hands into the two places where ants had previously slept.

‘He’s been gone for an hour,’ said Moresby, standing again and scanning the horizon. ‘And he wouldn’t have left a scent.’

‘Which way?’ asked Crystal.

‘He is young. The only direction he would go is homewards.’

‘I’ll get him,’ said Crystal. ‘I’ll run until I find him and come back here!’

Moresby gently touched her arm. ‘No Crystal! You are needed here. You know the direction we are going and you can follow my scent and lay a new one. The young ants need you.’

‘No! I must go back for him.’

‘And when you find him, how will you carry him?’ Moresby said. ‘You know I have twice your strength. I will bring him back.’

Crystal cried aloud for her lost friend.

Moresby grabbed under his shield and withdrew the second last seed. ‘Break this in half and give out half now. When you reach the large animal indentation give out the rest. We’ll catch you soon.’

Moresby leaped out of the hole and jogged back the way they’d come. The sun seemed to attack him mercilessly. It was still high in the sky and the salt pan radiated out its stored heat. Moresby had been without water now for too many days. He had given all his food to the younger ants, and his stomach began to cramp. He shielded his eyes from the glare and promised himself to keep jogging until he caught up with the little ant. The faster he went, the less distance he would have to travel.

After an hour his steps were no longer so sure. He stumbled now and then, and only just managed to stay on his feet. Still, he kept jogging. His feet wounds had opened again and were raw from the salt. His vision became blurred. Moresby kept jogging.

After another half hour Moresby saw a small black dot on the horizon or were his eyes playing tricks on him! Moresby ran forward and the dot became clearer. It was Samuel, lying on the saltpan. Moresby ran to him and nursed his head in his lap. He unslung his bag and withdrew a tiny piece of tree gum. He bit the end of the gum and spat it out. Then he positioned the gum over Samuel’s mouth and squeezed the gum so that a tiny drop of water ran from the end.

Samuel swallowed the water and groaned. Moresby squeezed the gum again, and another small drop fell into Samuel’s mouth. His eyes opened but the light stabbed into them and he closed them again. Moresby grabbed the last seed from under his shield and broke off a small piece. He chewed it, in order to soften it, and then dropped it into Samuel’s mouth. He watched as Samuel ate the small seed. Moresby gave him some more, and watched as he slowly came to life.

Moresby hoisted Samuel over his shoulder and turned back the way he had come. He placed his head down but lifted his shoulders, and took his first step. He was half a day behind the others. He had to catch up with them. The sun began to drop but Moresby didn’t notice. He was focused on one step after another.

Meanwhile, Crystal had led the ants to the large animal indentation. They were resting in the hollow, eating the last of the seed that Moresby had given them. Crystal watched them sadly and then sat cross legged on the edge of the hollow, staring out over the salt pan. She was going to wait there until Moresby arrived.

As the hours drifted by, the ants dropped to sleep. Crystal also fell asleep. When she awoke Moresby was asleep beside her. Between them lay Samuel, also asleep. Crystal cried and then became aware of a monstrous thing moving towards them and instantly above them.

She cried out to the other ants who raised themselves slowly. Moresby, instantly alert, despite his weariness, grabbed his sword and swung himself into action. He grabbed at Samuel and heaved him over his shoulder, then ran amongst the other ants, calling them to rise. They ran to his call, and Moresby led then into a crack in the salt pan.

The dingo stood still and sniffed the air. It dropped the carcass of a small rabbit, and circled it twice, stepping on places where ants had been resting. It settled beside the rabbit, tearing at the meat. A small piece of meat landed amongst the ants. Moresby ran forwards and tore at it, shoving it into his mouth.

The other ants watched but did not join him.

‘What are we to eat?’ asked Samuel. ‘We eat seeds.’

Moresby was feeling replenished now. ‘Follow me,’ he shouted, as he ran towards the dingo.

Soon, the small troupe of ants was climbing onto the dingo’s paw.

‘Smell that!’ shouted Crystal. ‘Seeds!’

Tangled in the thick dingo fur, were hundreds of small seeds and burrs.

The ants clambered over the fur and were soon eating their fill. Some of the seeds were filled with moisture, and it wasn’t long before ants were all deep within the fur and sleeping.

The following day the dingo arose from its slumber and loped across the salt pan, into the surrounding bush. When it lay down again, Moresby led the ants off the dingo and over to a large green bush, surrounded by seeds and fallen leaves. It was here that he addressed them.

‘My friends, I must leave. You will need to trust your instincts now, and work hard. This place we have found is ideal for your colony to grow.’ He turned to face Crystal.

‘You are the queen of this colony. Guide your friends well. Gather food and build a nest. And again, I tell you to work hard, and then all things will be fine.’

‘Will we ever see you again,’ asked Samuel.

‘If, at the end of a day, you close your eyes and let your mind drift, I might be there.’

Moresby faced west and began his slow trek homeward. He walked for an hour, and then saw a large red berry. He decided to taste its sweet juices and climbed onto it.

He was covered by a shadow. A rush of wind knocked him onto his back. He withdrew one of his swords and stabbed it into the berry so he wouldn’t fall off.

Strong hot winds had blown the seagull many kilometres inland. Exhausted by a lack of food, and dehydrated, it had seen the small red berry. The seagull pecked at it, missing Moresby by a millimetre. Moresby pulled himself to standing position and dived onto the seagull’s beak. The bird lifted its head and jabbed at the berry again, this time swallowing it. Moresby ran up the beak, between the seagull’s eyes and into its crest.

He burrowed under the feathers and felt them being flattened onto his back as the bird struggled upwards, and flew towards its home on the ocean, far away in the west.

Some hours later Moresby had returned to the outskirts of the city from whence he had come. When the bird landed on a house roof Moresby climbed down and set out on his quest again.

And legend grew of the ant who came out of the salt to save a family.