‘The bloody Japanese would eat us if they thought they could get off on it.’ ‘Poor bloody wildlife. It doesn’t stand much of a chance these days.’ Norton’s gaze suddenly went from the animals to Peregrine. ‘Hey. I just thought of something. You know what Murwillumbah means in Australian Aboriginal?’ Peregrine shook his head. ‘Place of many possums. I noticed it on a T-shirt in town today.’ ‘Really?’ Then Peregrine’s eyes lit up. ‘I just thought of something too. You’ve got your friends, I’ve got mine. I’m going round to feed Bunter.’ ‘Good on you,’ mumbled Norton. ‘I’ll stay here with the possums.’ Peregrine gathered up some scraps of meat and weaved his way round to the other side of the house. The three owls were in their customary positions in the trees, huge orange eyes beaming down. ‘I say, chaps,’ hiccupped Peregrine, placing the meat scraps on the ground. ‘This is becoming almost intolerable. I’ve a jolly good mind to call Mr Squelch and have you bunked from Greyfriars.
