We dug Cluck up almost 12 months to the day that he was buried. What was immediately obvious was that the heavy cyclonic rains of the previous summer had taken their toll. The garbage bag was shredded, the sarcophagus virtually non-existent and the 'bundle' soft and damp. Cluck's cartouche (nameplate) survived, no doubt because it was laminated. The little jewels and sequins were also clearly visible. 

We certainly did a good job with the wrapping though and it was no easy task getting it off. The bandages were damper and more darkly discoloured the further we got in. There was a faint smell but it was one of mustiness more than anything else. As we got closer to the source we came upon the rosemary, liberally sprinkled when he was wrapped. It had no aroma at all but looked fine apart from that.

When we finally broke through all the mummy wrapping, a white skinned, dried flat chicken was revealed. Despite all that water, he was 'mummified' so our drying process really worked. Quite amazing when you think about it.

Mr Biddiscombe was very impressed!

We put him back in his grave with just his cartouche. It was time to let nature finally take its course but a cairn and a cross will continue to mark his spot.

KING CLUCK WAS A FINE OLD BIRD!