This is the story of the girl who was fighting to save the planet,

Bindi Owen, read by Australia's first female Governor General Dame Quinton Bryce. The crocodile was cranky. It thrashed against the net, desperate to scurry back into the

river and away from the strange humans plotting it with sticks.

If it's a girl, what will we call her? yelled the crocodile hunter.

Bindi Sue Erwin paused to think, as she took a bite of her vegumite sandwich.

A gentle, she said.

The crocodile hunter nodded with approval.

Good name, sweetheart.

The crocodile hunter was bidden to his dad.

His real name was Steve.

It was actually a little weird that people called him a hunter because he would never hurt an animal.

In fact, the reason they were trapping crocodiles was to learn more about them. They caught the crocks, attach tracking devices to them,

and then release them, all so researchers could follow their movements and figure out the best ways to protect them.

Yep, it's a female, Steve said. She's a pretty one. Isn't she bindy?

Steve loved animals. He thought they were all beautiful, even scaly huge

sharp-tooth, beady-eyed saltwater crocks. He was teaching a bunch of animal experts how to handle a crocodile in the wild.

Bindi was there to learn too. But there was something different about her.

Everyone wore brown uniforms and brown boots, but Bindie wore

shiny pink shoes. Oh and there was something else. The rest of the team were grown-ups. Bindie were was five.

Everyone ready, Steve, said Bindy, called out.

Yep, said Bindy.

The team looped ropes around Magenta's powerful snout as Steve gently peeled the neck from

...