I was walking through a forest yesterday, and I came across a large dead tree with a gold band stretching right around its circumference down near the ground. Taking a few paces back, I noticed several other dead trees in the vicinity. Their size and spacing suggested the five fingers of a giant hand.

I couldn't get the image out of my mind, and made some enquiries at the general store back in town. Turns out I was right. Apparently if you dig down deep enough, the fingers join together into a giant wooden hand. Many years ago this was partially excavated, revealing a narrow wrist, and the beginnings of a forearm. By now, though, the hole was fifty feet deep! That's as far as the excavations went, and it's all filled in again since then. Quite a mystery, eh?

A friend of mine has a bobcat (probably best that I don't mention his name), so I took him up one weekend to show him around. He immediately became just as fascinated by the whole thing as I was, and we began to lay plans.

It seemed the only way to approach it was after dark. We'd need plenty of lighting, and he reckoned he had a mate he could help with that. There was no doubt about it. We were going to cause a hell of a lot of damage. We'd need to unearth something spectacular if we were going to get away with it. We decided we'd better document the whole thing on film, and somebody knew somebody who knew somebody who was a television cameraman. We'd have instant 'made for TV' pictures, and that seemed important.

I rather wished the whole site was a bit deeper inside the park boundary. My main fear was that the racket would wake somebody up. There were quite a few houses just outside the park. But there was nothing we could do about that. And, let's face it, if the site had been much deeper into the park, I might never have found it, or it might have been quite inaccessible. Some crazy insomniac bushwalker might also stumble upon us. With a bit of luck, he'd get caught up in the magic of it all, too.

Of course, we all had full time jobs, and it took quite a while to find a weekend when everybody was free. The bobcat was the biggest challenge. It's not easy to smuggle a bobcat inside a national park. Even driving the thing in the general direction of the park was enough to raise suspicion.

We tossed a few ideas around. Should we stay the night before in a nearby hotel, so we could make a quick dash to the park the following night? But how to explain the bobcat? No, a lightning raid seemed the best way. Everybody stay at home until the last possible minute, and then arrange a rendezvous after dark. It was summer, and daylight savings, so we thought there wasn't much point getting there until 10 pm.

All went well, except for one thing. Would you believe it? The blooming gate was locked! How could I have been so stupid? We tried everything in desperation, a good range of bolt cutters and other metal tools that proved to be on offer. No use. Now all we had was a badly damaged padlock that screamed illegal entry attempt!

What to do next? If we went away now, the element of surprise was lost. They'd likely stake a guard here every night for the next few months at least. By then it would be starting to get cold again. We didn't want to be working in snow.

At last Jack (I'll call him Jack) had a brainwave. I tell you, we were all pretty shaken, but there didn't seem to be any other way. I'd started out being captured by magic, and now I just felt like a common criminal. He hooked a chain to the bottom of the bucket, and wrapped the other end around the gate-post. A few big wrenches and some side to side stuff, and bingo! The whole metal gate post lifted out of the ground, concrete base and all. Then he did the same thing at the other end. Filled with a curious blend of jubilation and terror, we carried the mangled gate to the road-side, and proceeded.

That was the other thing. It was a full moon, and a clear sky. Being a city bloke, I hadn't given much thought to that sort of thing. We hardly needed the lights! The whole site was lit up like a Christmas tree. The five dead trees shone bright, like a giant silvery hand. I tell you, it was something! I was half expecting those fingers to come to life and form a fist to crush us to jam at any moment!

We focussed on the tree with the large gold band near its base. It was actually situated in exactly the right position to be the ring finger, too! Too creepy. The bobcat made a few tentative scratches at the ground to one side. The cameraman took up his position and started filming. The rest of us stood back, hands on hips. I glanced around nervously for signs of intruders. Nothing so far.

The gold band caught my eye. It appeared to be glowing. Did I imagine it, or the did the 'fingers' all bend a little?

After that, everything is a bit of a blur, to be perfectly honest. I caught a glimpse of Jack hurling himself from the cabin as the bobcat tumbled into a deep black abyss. I turned to face him, as he managed with one hand to grasp a freshly exposed mountain ash root at the lip of a black hole that looked as though it stretched all the way to China.

I threw myself onto my belly and wrapped both my hands around his forearm.

Don't worry about me! he shouted. Save yourself! Run!

I wasn't that much of a coward, though. And I reckoned I owed him something. Besides, I quite liked him, even though I thought he was a pretty crap reciter. He raised his other hand so I could get a good grip on them both. Then he brought one of his legs up, and managed to push back against the wall of earth. It was enough. I was able to lever him up and out, just as the very sides of the hole themselves began to shake and tremble.

I didn't need any encouragement now. We fled up the hill as fast as our little legs would carry us, aware of some extraordinary apocalypse taking place behind our backs. Approaching the ridge-top, we sensed we were out of immediate danger. The others were waiting for us there.

I turned around to look back down the hill-side, and could scarcely believe what I was seeing. The entire river valley, from about halfway down the slope, was missing. Same up the other side. In the middle of this incredible cavity was visible the head, torso and arms of a giant humanoid form, in the process of shaking the last traces of earth out of its hair.

Somehow, I didn't think the National Parks Service would be worrying too much about their gate when the sun came up.

To our eternal credit, we did not lose our heads and scatter in different directions in a blind panic. I would not have blamed us if we did. After all, it wasn't just the physical scale of what we were facing. We were witnessing something that was supposed to be impossible, and threw into question everything I had learned or taken for granted about the world up until this time. That feeling of intellectual disorientation was actually much stronger than any distress about our immediate surroundings. I remember that well.

No, we didn't panic. The survival instinct is pretty strong, and you never know what reserves you can tap into until you are tested. Well, we were tested that day, I can assure you.

First priority was a roll call. There were five of us - Bruce and Tom, the lighting guys, Dave the cameraman, Jack and me. Unfortunately, Dave was missing. Tom had seen him somersaulting down into the middle of the black pit. Poor Dave. It didn't look good.

The giant began to pull itself free from the earth and loose rock surrounding it, and we saw a sickening sight. Dave appeared to have caught his arm in the giant's belt. We heard him cry out and wave his left arm as he drew level with us. His right arm was hanging limp. My guess was his shoulder was dislocated, and the arm was probably broken, too. If Dave found a way to survive this, his golf handicap was never going to be the same again.

And I was determined that he would survive, too. Needless to say, our plans had been surrounded by secrecy. I had advised all of the blokes not to tell anybody what we were doing, including wives and girlfriends. This was to protect them as much as us. I had only met Dave's young family once, but I had promised his five year old daughter, Alice, that I would bring her daddy home safely.

In truth, horrendous injury as it was, getting his arm jammed in the giant's belt had almost certainly saved Dave's life - at least until this point. There was a huge subsidence of earth and rock as the giant shook itself free, and Dave would almost certainly have been buried alive otherwise.

Jack and I hurled ourselves at the giant's trouser leg as he strode past us. The fabric was something I had never encountered before. It shone bright blue in the moonlight. It was soft like silk, but incredibly strong. Clearly, this was some sort of strange magic. (I hated using that word, but what else could I say?) This fabric had not spent years beneath the surface of the Earth. It was brand new, completely unsullied.

Jack lost his grip almost immediately and fell back to Earth (fortunately with no serious injuries, as I was to learn later), but I hung on for grim death. Fortunately I was able to grip with my legs also. I could never have held on with my arms alone.

I was vaguely aware that the giant was covering enormous amounts of territory with each stride. One thing that has puzzled me considerably ever since is why the giant did not remove Dave from his belt and toss him to the ground - or me, with a flick of his ankle. I can only assume that the giant was operating on some sort of automatic pilot for the first few hours. He did not seem to be fully aware of what was going on around him. As though the brain took a lot longer to kick start than mere flesh and bone.

I had no idea where we were going, or why, but let all of that drop from my mind. My only task was to reach Dave, and to do that I had a long climb ahead of me. What I was going to do when I got there I also had no idea, but I knew it was critical that Dave knew somebody cared, and was doing their level best to rescue him.

I had another incentive to climb that giant trouser leg. I was nearly shaken off with each pace it took. I really had to just hang on while his leg was moving, then try to scramble up a bit as he moved his other leg. I knew that the higher I got, the less I would be thrown around. Reaching his belt was all I could think of.

Who knows how long it took? Time meant nothing. At last I became aware of Dave's boots not far above me. It's funny the things that stick in your mind. It looked like he'd bought new ones specially for the occasion, and I noticed thick clumps of mud clinging to the crisp rubber patterning.

At last I drew level with Dave. I was no longer being thrown around nearly so badly, but it was just as well. I was utterly exhausted, and feeling as weak as a kitten. I didn't think I'd be able to hold on much longer.

Dave didn't appear to be conscious, which was a mercy. I imagined he was in a lot of pain. He would have lost quite a lot of blood around that fracture, also. His twisted arm was well secured between the giant's belt and his body, though. I had no fear of him falling.

What to do? The giant's belt was quite thick, like a step all the way around his waist. I figured that if I climbed above it, I could stand on it, holding onto the giant's shirt. This is what I did. The relief when I found myself finally able to take all my weight on my feet again was immeasurable. All I had to do now was hang on for balance.

Any plans to rescue Dave now had to be put on the back burner. I was reduced to the role of mere observer - if, indeed, I'd ever been anything else. It was time to put Dave to one side, and start to take in my surroundings. And the view was quite surreal, I can assure you.

The giant had by now well and truly left the forest behind him, and was strolling through farm land. Through the moon-light I could see fences and the occasional dam. Cattle were dotted about like toys. In the distance shone the lights of a town.

Still the giant strode boldly ahead, never deviating from his course or altering his pace. Where was he heading? What was his purpose?

I became aware of the sound of an approaching aeroplane - a soft drone at first, but rapidly becoming louder. At last I could see it clearly, a fair way above us. I don't know much about planes, but it was big, and didn't look like a passenger aircraft. It had a definite military look.

An explosion took place to my left. Clods of earth and turf were flung high into the air. Holy Maloly! That could mean only one thing. We were being bombed!

I had assumed the alarm would not be raised until sun up. Bad news travels fast. Obviously.

Didn't they know that Dave and me were hanging on to the giant? Hadn't the boys passed on that message? Perhaps they hadn't. Perhaps the military just didn't care. Unavoidable collateral damage, that's what we'd be. Victims of friendly fire. I supposed, in a way, I could understand that. The giant had already caused a lot of damage, and was bound to cause a lot more before too long. Imagine if he started tramping indiscriminately through that town up ahead! Besides, fear of the unknown is the greatest fear of all. It swamps everything.

The plane didn't take too long to find its range. Several more bombs fell harmlessly to our side, but getting closer all the time, until I heard the giant utter the most unearthly shriek I am ever likely to hear. It was the first and last time I felt true empathy for him. The bomb had caught him above his left shoulder, just below the neck. Here was this huge sentient creature, dying before it had even been properly born.

Immediately, it began to stagger. A thousand thoughts raced through my brain. What if it landed on us? We'd be crushed to death instantly. It dropped briefly to one knee, then picked itself up again. Bombs continued to fall. It was absolute carnage, I can tell you. I saw a cow vanish in a puff of steam.

I woke up in a hospital bed. The nurse told me the ambos had found me lying unconscious somewhere, but was not able to give me any details. I asked her about Dave, but she did not appear to know anything. And when I asked her about the giant, she just gave me the queerest look.

Was it all a dream?

I was discharged the next morning. First thing I did when I got home was ring Dave's wife. She told me he was OK. He was in hospital with a badly damaged shoulder and arm, and had lost a lot of blood, but he was OK. What a relief!

I assumed the papers would be full of it, but there was nothing. It was really weird. TV. Radio. All continued as though nothing had happened.

I even tried ringing a few journalists myself and giving my story, but nobody believed me. Just dismissed me as some sort of crank.

It was hard to know what to tell my family. In the end, I decided to tell them the truth, but I'm not sure even they believed me, to be honest.

In time, life gradually returned to normal. Although, I don't think life will ever really be normal for me again. I saw things and learnt things that night I can never forget, and they changed the way I view the world.

None of us ever heard anything from the National Parks Service about the gate.

The following summer, the five of us decided to meet again, and re-visit the scene. We didn't bother to take a bobcat with us this time. Sure enough, there was the gaping hole in the valley from which the giant had emerged. It was amazing how quickly Nature re-claimed its own territory, though. The whole area was covered with scrubby vegetation. Some small saplings had already taken root. The river had been the most obviously affected. There was now a beautiful deep pool at the spot from which the giant had arisen.

Well, that was a relief. It hadn't been a dream. But it seemed there were some things society just couldn't cope with. And a giant emerging from a forest and traipsing across the countryside is one of them.

Postscript: Twenty years later I was taking my grandchildren for a drive to their other grandparents. We were all having Sunday lunch together at their new home in the country. I suddenly noticed the fields around looked eerily familiar. I couldn't help myself. I peeled my eyes for anything that might confirm my suspicions.

Suddenly I saw it. My heart skipped a beat. There, lying on the grass, a large gold band.

I pulled over, and we all climbed through the fence to get a better look. As we approached, it began to glow slightly. Breaking out in a sweat, I ushered the increasingly curious children back to the car. I started it, after stalling twice, and headed off down the road. I never looked back.

© Stephen Whiteside