The Adventures of Button (12 page)

“Well,” she said. “Where?”

“AAh, ah, it was near the edge of the Great Forest. He’s humiliated and angry. Hordes of rats came and attacked all at once. There were so many he couldn’t turn fast enough to stop the bites and slashing. I, I . . .” Iggy stopped and sobbed as grief for his friend overtook him.

“One got on top of his head and tried for his eyes. I don’t think he can see.” He began sobbing uncontrollably, his scrawny shoulders shaking.

Buttons and Sally whirled as one and were ready to hurry to their friend’s aid when Ssserek’s soft and sibilant voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Sssstop. Thissss is no time for that. Iggy, are you sure? How badly is he really hurt? It’s very important.”

Iggy gulped and took a deep breath. “He . . . he’s bleeding badly from his eyebrow on one side. I guess other than that he’s really mad, tearing bushes from the ground in his rage. He’s . . . he’s really mad. I’ve never seen him like that.” Iggy finished, his sharp features fixed on Ssserek’s calm face.

“Sooooo . . . Good. Perhaps it’s not as bad as you think.” He turned to Buttons and Sally.

“Go at once. See what is wrong. We’ll be along as soon as possible. The other elders must know, so be quick.”

Iggy led the way, skipping around and through rock and bush in his normal quick and nimble fashion, the two dogs having little difficulty keeping up. It was further than they had thought, and they arrived panting heavily.

Biff lay curled up in a clump of bushes, quietly licking multiple small wounds on his feet and ankles. His ears had been torn but would heal, clotted blood hiding the worst of the wounds. He turned quickly as he heard their approach and rose to a defensive position in one swift movement. His head hung down, and he stared at them blearily through his right eye only. The left eye was hidden beneath a torn, bloodied eyebrow at which he would paw absent-mindedly now and again. Seeing who it was, he relaxed slightly, but remained on his toes, glancing to his right and left.

Buttons quickly motioned him down. Both her actions and words clearly stated there was no time for recriminations or complaints. The bear did as she indicated.

Buttons and Sally’s inspection was as fast as it was thorough. Yes, he had taken a beating. There were many small wounds on any exposed flesh. His thick spring coat had spared him where another creature would have died. The eye needed to be cleaned, but where?

Sally and Buttons moved to one side, leaving Iggy gently patting the bear on his bleeding nose. “I don’t know,” said Sally. “I just don’t know.”

Buttons glared at her best friend. “Well, I do.”

Just then, Ssserek and Ms. Lucie arrived, the sparrow landing on a bush close by. “And, what do you intend?” Ssserek spoke in a low tone, ignoring the bear and squirrel. “Remember, they’re near. And if they will attack a bear, just what chance will you have? Stop and think.”

Ms. Lucie spoke up, her voice clear to all there. “Ssserek, you’re right. But, there may be other reasons. If they’ll attack a bear, they’ll stop at nothing. But, more worrisome, why would they attack Biff? No one in his right mind would do that.”

Sally and Buttons both started to speak at once. Buttons nodded to Sally, who began, “First, just out of shear rat meanness. That’s their way. Hurt anyway they can, anyone, anywhere.” In turn, she nodded toward Buttons.

“I can vouch for that. But more importantly, it could signal a general advance on every animal in the Great Forest and Great Field.”

Ms. Lucie sighed, “You’re probably right” She looked with great concern to Ssserek. “We must go back to the rock to await the signals from our watchers. Buttons, you and Sally must finish caring for Biff. Rat bites are terrible and may kill without more than a scratch.”

Buttons looked at the bird defiantly. “I know what to do. First, the pool of the beavers. We’ll take him there. There is no cleaner water in the forest.” She turned to Iggy, “Find the otters and have them at the pool as soon as possible.” With that, they were off.

Sally and Buttons led the partially blind, limping, and very gruff, young bear toward the river and the beavers’ pool. No one knew more about healing than the elder beaver and otter. The two eldest of the females often worked together tending for the injured and hurt. So it was a very tired bear who waded out into the cool waters of the pool and slowly submerged himself in the clear water as several otters and beavers slowly circled him.

The eldest female otter drew near and spoke in her quiet but commanding voice, “Now, take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can while we look over that swollen eye.”

Biff could swim very well and did as he was told to, slowly sinking into the depths of the pool.

Sally and Buttons paced up and down at the shore. They knew how bad a rat bite could be. Nothing ever healed properly, it seemed, after a rat had bitten someone. Buttons was becoming angrier and angrier, snarling even at Sally as she tried to cheer her friend up. “Just stay away from me. I’ve just about had it. Do you understand?” She didn’t wait for an answer but began to pace again.

Biff’s head slowly emerged from the water, and the two dogs hurried to the shore as both the beaver and otter quickly made their way ahead of him.

The elder otter rose to her full height as she addressed them.

“He is hurt, but will heal in the way of the young. His eye is better than it looks. We cleaned it thoroughly and the beaver will pack it with the proper healing mud. It will remain puffy for a while, but do not worry, he will be in fighting mettle very soon. You did well in getting him here so quickly. Otherwise . . .”

She quit talking as the young bear shook himself off and followed the elder beaver along the shore.

In a cool place, he lay down as demanded, and the beaver went to work, applying a healing poultice to his eye. The otter nodded to the two and moved toward the bear, leaving Buttons and Sally alone, Iggy sitting above them watching with grave concern. He had not spoken during the entire episode, but simply sat wide-eyed as he watched his two best friends.

Buttons turned to Sally, her voice sharp and taut with anger and hatred. “I’ve had it. I think I know when they will come to shore. Do you remember, after the storm when we went along the swamp and found all of those trees down? How we went out on them with Iggy and the raccoon twins? Remember how far we had gotten before Ms. Lucie caught us and warned us back?” Her eyes glittered as she recalled that day.

Sally watched her friend with growing concern. “Yes, I remember. It would serve as a perfect bridge across that point. But hadn’t we better warn Ssserek and Ms. Lucie?”

Buttons frowned. “No time. Besides, as I said, I’ve had it. I’m heading for the swamp. Now!” She turned to go, then stopped, good sense getting the better of her anger.

“Call the muster. Call it to completion. We meet at Turnkey Bay. Hurry.”

Buttons was off, her small, black figure disappearing quickly into the gloomy dark which surrounded the beavers’ pool. Sally did as she was asked, and pointing her nose upward, began to bugle. Time and again, her high-pitched bugle sounded, carrying far and wide.

Instantly, a young wolf appeared with a ground-eating lope, his nose telling him exactly where to go. He followed Buttons’ tracks as though they were carefully stamped into the ground. She was not to be alone. And no one disobeyed Ssserek’s command.

Sally stood still, having finished her task. Then, with Iggy close behind, she turned and followed after Buttons and the wolf.

All the animals came, their passage was swift, if noisy, sending sleeping birds and rodents racing in all directions, some in panic, others in an orderly retreat from the edges of the swamp. Sally’s bugle went up again, her cry warning all those who watched that something was amiss. The field and forest awoke with a start. The battle would soon begin.

Buttons made no sounds but read the scents on the air like words in a book. The soft padding sounds of the wolf behind came to her keen ears, but she moved, her anger mounting as she neared the swamp.

Badger, skunk, raccoon, and mink surged up to the bank. Wolf, coyote, and fox ranged further out, keeping pace with ease. The larger of the woodchuck and groundhog slowed and took up their assigned places; they would form a rear guard, ranging back and forth between forest and field. They were not fighters under usual circumstances, but they would go down before allowing any rat to pass through to the defenseless small ones of the field and what lay beyond.

Full-grown bucks and the smaller males among the deer moved to and fro at the edges, their keen senses alert to possible attempts to skirt the defenses being mustered in full force. Only the hardiest and more daring of the rats would attempt to cross the river to the south. Too many and angry and vengeful eyes waited any such occurrence. The distant northern side was barred by the highway and fenced human fields. No, only the forest and field lay before the rats, and that way they were surely approaching.

Red-winged blackbird and morning dove rose into the air. They moved silently to the east, and then to the north, carefully approaching the deeper portions of the old swamp. Faint rustlings came to their sharp ears, but at this time, they could as yet detect no movement. Back and forth they moved, making intricate patterns in the sky.

All around the forest and field, birds were lifting into the air. Their keen vision was desperately needed this day, and they would not fail. Deer moved off silently, taking up the vigil at the periphery of the major action. Their swift speed would be needed to carry messages deep into the forest where birds could not penetrate with ease.

The large bulk of Biff moved south also. He was limping but gallant, one eye closed with poultice, the other glaring with anger. He moved not so swiftly, but his rolling gait covered the ground with amazing alacrity when he felt the need. Today, there was need.

The small rodents of the field and forest also moved south. Although they were little match for the larger rats, they would and could fight when the need was upon them. It was, now. The otters, too, moved toward the swamp. None would escape their attention should they prove foolish enough to move toward the river. The muster went on.

As Ssserek and Ms. Lucie were approaching Turnkey Bay with Rarebit hopping behind, a distant urgent whistle from the sky came down the wind. They moved even more quickly, the clamorous voices of many birds now joining that of the hawk, which soared in the distant sky. Nearly out of sight, the high-pitched whistle came again, urging them to even greater efforts.

The rats had been sighted. Just as Rarebit and Ms. Lucie had surmised, and Buttons had more recently guessed, they were coming in a tumbling rush of innumerable bodies. As Ssserek and Ms. Lucie had hoped, Delph, the alligator had appeared. Having escaped from the cruel cage of a roving side-show artist, he had taken abode in the swamp where he had met and been befriended by Buttons and Sally. As expected, he had laid in wait, as only an alligator can, resting comfortably on a partially sunken log, with only his keen eyes telling of his careful vigil. He could lay for hours on end, never moving a muscle except for his eyes, which missed nothing moving overhead, beneath the water, or on top of it.

It was Delph, the gator who had given the first warning to the birds overhead. He had lurked deep in the darker regions of the swamp until the first distant chitterings of the rats had warned him of their approach. Then, having warned the birds of the oncoming danger, he had fearlessly cruised along the rats. First, the rats had moved during the night along the edges of the fen and marsh, then had taken to the small islands and tussocks of grass which provided good footing and cover. Only when they had taken to moving along the trunks of dead trees torn up by the previous season’s storm could they be spotted. Here they moved swiftly, literally tumbling over one another in their hurry. Their eyes glowed red with anticipation. Their hunger was great, and with its urgency pressing them on, their anger, simmering at best at all times, now rose to greater heights. Their hunger drove them, while their anger gave them the necessary strength to surmount difficult objects that lay in their path. And behind, the voice drove them. A whiplash of hatred and spite. It drove them with barbs of words, promises of gluttony, and most of all, anticipation of hate’s fulfillment.

Buttons was at the swamp’s edge, waiting patiently now that the time had come. She did not turn as Sally and the young wolf ranged along side. With Ssserek’s and Ms. Lucie’s approach, Buttons turned and briefly nodded.

She glared at Rarebit, then relenting, spoke, “Rarebit, please go. This is no place for you. We couldn’t have properly prepared if it hadn’t been for your knowledge of the swamp. But, go. Please.”

Of necessity, Rarebit left, recognizing the wisdom of the words. A small frog would hardly have slowed the smaller of rats. His knowledge had been given, his plans lay out before all. Ms. Lucie must assume both roles now. Rarebit had no place in battle such as was coming, and Ms. Lucie was safe in a tree where she could observe the battle from her high vantage point, while receiving messages from the many birds that flocked above.