The Golden Flight (25 page)

 . Finally he made the
 look like
,and as he did this he felt the power drain from the Woodstock as the life had drained from the shot partridge.

‘Where shall we hide it?’ he asked Chip.

Together they pushed the inert stick, end-first into the mound of pine needles covering a wood-ants’ nest, brushing the ants from their fur and scampering away before they could be bitten.

‘It’ll be a brave Grey who gets that out, even if they did find it,’ said Oak.

When the rejoined the others they heard Bluebell say, ‘Thank you, Sumac-Friend. Where is Tumbleweed?’

‘She should be here soon. She has been helping old Malachite at the Tanglewood, he’s not too well. But he’s a Sun-squirrel now, would you believe –
and
so are those other two old puffers. Tumbleweed and I have been doing a bit of teaching ourselves since you all left. Shall I give the three Lords your regards?’

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Rowan returned to his drey after a day’s teaching. Meadowsweet was waiting for him. As they brushed whiskers, he said, ‘You know young Elm Larchson?’

Meadowsweet nodded.

‘Today I said to him, ‘I didn’t see you at the Camouflage and Concealment class yesterday.’ And he said, ‘Getting good aren’t I?’ Cheeky young thing!’

Queen Marguerite had now learned from Wood Anemone how the old King had ordered all the zervantz to eat one of the tiny mushrooms that grew on Old Wally’s wall on the night of each new moon, but had never told them why. It had been Wood Anemone, the Royal’s zervant Woodlouse as she had been then, who had always maintained a stock of dried mushrooms from The Wall for the ceremonies. When the King decided that it was necessary for some new zervantz to be born, he had ordered Woodlouse to give different mushrooms to the selected couples instead. This was the secret that she had been sworn to keep.

‘We must
educate
all the squirrels so that they know that if they eat Moon Mushrooms each month once they have had two dreylings, we can prevent the island from becoming over-populated,’ Marguerite told Wood Anemone. ‘That will be your job. No secrets, no coercion, just
education
.’

The swan on the beach was ailing and Marguerite did not know what more she could do to help it recover. Then, early in the morning of the day before the New Moon was due, as a light autumn mist floated through the trees of the island, she was trying to get the swan to feed when she sensed that the dolphins were close. She turned and, through the mist, saw three dark humps rise out of the water and disappear again.

‘Malin, Lundy, Finisterre,’ she called, ‘I am here.’

The answer came immediately. ‘Squirrel-Friend, we see you. Is that a swan with you?’

‘Yes, it is covered with black stuff and very sick. I don’t know how to help it.’

‘Only humans can. There is a poison that they throw into the sea from their biggest boats. It kills many birds and hurts us if it gets into our breathing holes,’ Malin said. ‘You must get the swan to the humans, only
they
can save it.’

‘Have you heard anything about your young friends who we took to the Mainland?’ Lundy asked. ‘We are due to bring them back at first light tomorrow.’

‘No, I hope they are safe.’

‘Try and get that swan to the humans, we will see you in the morning.’

‘SWAN –

WALK ALONG THE BEACH –

ACTION NOW –

ACTION NOW!

Yes you can, yes you can,

ACTION NOW.’

The swan responded by raising its head but seemed unable to walk. It was obviously just too sick.

Marguerite left it and went inland, looking for a human.

She found one just taking off his green covering with the badge of Acorn, the first squirrel in the World. Underneath was another covering which was white with dark lines making squares on it. As she hid and watched, the human fumbled with his square-patterned arm coverings and rolled them up towards his shoulders. Then he picked up a stick with a flat bit of metal on one end and swung it at the trunk of a rhododendron bush. The top of the bush fell off and rolled towards Marguerite who crouched in fear.

Eventually she collected enough courage to hop out towards the man and chatter to attract his attention. He stopped chopping and leant on the axe-handle watching the squirrel. She ran backwards trying to get him to follow her but he did not move. She tried again and again until it seemed that at last he understood. He rested the axe against a bush, picked up his green covering and followed her.

Marguerite stayed on the ground, looking back frequently to see that she was still being followed, but staying far enough in front to be able to leap clear if the human tried to do anything hostile or unexpected.

She led him to the swan, who hissed feebly. The man approached cautiously then tied a knot in the end of one of the arm tubes on the green covering he was carrying. He manoeuvred the swan’s neck into that tube and pulled the rest of his covering over the swan’s body so that it could not struggle nor peck him. Marguerite admired the firm but gentle way he had done this and, as he lifted the swan, she slipped away into the shoreline vegetation. The swan was now the human’s responsibility. She had done all she could. She felt tired and hungry and spent the remainder of that day resting or feeding listlessly, and the night sleeping alone in a palm tree in the valley.

Next morning she hurried through the mist across the island to Pottery Point and joined a group of other squirrels as they watched the three dolphins carrying the sticks and the five returning scouts. Five?

Burdock the News-squirrel carried the story across the island, bearing in mind what her mother, Queen Marguerite, had told her.

‘From now on, you will be as responsible as the Post-squirrels were. What you say must be the truth, and if you don’t know the truth, find out before you say a word to any squirrel.’

‘SCOUTING PARTY RETURNS. ROSEBAY GIVES

HER LIFE TO SAVE HER SISTER.

With the return of the scouting party your reporter learned of the

sad death of Rosebay, Wood Anemone’s daughter…’

Chip had been the last one to come ashore, swimming with the coin in his mouth. He had helped Willowherb up the beach but then had avoided the group clustered around the other scouts and had carried the golden disk away to his drey. Later he learned from Burdock that Marguerite was now Queen of Ourland.

He waited until he found her alone.

‘I’ve brought you a present,’ he said. ‘A present fit for a Queen.’

Marguerite took the coin and turned it over.

‘It’s very pretty,’ she said as the sun glowed on the bright golden metal. ‘What’s it for?’

‘It’s for you,’ Chip replied.

‘I didn’t mean that, Chip-Friend. What does a squirrel use it for?’

‘I don’t know,’ Chip admitted. ‘But Lundy said that the humans think highly of these. There’s a little human’s head on one side.’

‘Then I think we’d better give it back to the humans, don’t you? It really belongs to them. But thank you for bringing it to show me.’

Chip carried his coin through the wood, unsure how to get it to a human. Although none had ever harmed him, he did not know if it was safe to approach one.

He passed many squirrels busy with harvesting the plentiful nuts. Soon it will be our Harvest Sun-day, he thought, as Willowherb, sitting close to her mother Wood Anemone, waved to him, a ripe hazel nut in her teeth. He had not noticed before what a good-looking squirrel she was.

Ahead, the late morning Sun shone on the tower of the little island Church of St Mary, Brownsea. Chip saw this and was drawn in that direction. As he neared the building he could hear the singing of the humans and he hid behind a slab of stone until they all came out.

He was too afraid of such tall creatures to approach closely and so stayed hidden until he was sure that they had gone. The flat wood that the humans used to close the entrance to this great Man-drey was not across the opening, and he was tempted to enter the dark entrance. As he stood timorously in the doorway waiting for his eyes to adjust to the fainter light, he could smell the scent of fruit and newly dug vegetables of every kind. Around him a harvest of human food was piled in heaps on every ledge and in baskets on the floor.

Where could he put his coin so that a human would find it?

He hopped onto a seat and then onto a ledge higher up – he could leave it there. Then, overwhelmed by an urge to hide it out of sight, he frantically looked around for a suitable place to conceal the coin. A closed wooden box near his paw had a slot in it of just the right size. He looked around the church, fearful of being found, rubbed the coin with his paw one last time, enjoying the smooth feel of it, then dropped it through the slot. As he hopped down from the seat he heard it fall with a rattle into the box, on the side of which in human symbols meaningless to him were the words –

FOR THE POOR AND HUNGRY PEOPLE OF THE WORLD

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Chip felt strangely relieved as he left the church. He felt too, that he ought to tell Marguerite what he had done and went to find her.

She was sleeping in the warm afternoon sunlight on a branch outside her drey. He sat and watched her lovingly until she awoke. Now there was something that he wanted to ask her.

‘Marguerite-Friend,’ he began, then paused, embarrassed. Could he address her an intimately as this, now she was Queen?

She looked at the younger squirrel and remembered how he had looked when she had first seen him, an under-fed and sorry looking sqrunt. He had certainly come up in the trees since then.

‘Yes?’ she said kindly.

‘I was – I was going to ask you – ask you…’ He stopped again.

‘Yes, Chip-Friend?’

‘I was going to ask you to be my life-mate – but now that you’re Queen…’

‘That would have made no difference if it had been the right thing to do,’ she said. ‘But it would not be fair. I’ve had two dreylings and you haven’t had any. If I’m going to ask all other squirrels to have only two, then I mustn’t have any more. You must find another mate. But thank you – I do appreciate the compliment.’

Marguerite brushed whiskers with him.

‘Now go and visit Wood Anemone, there is someone there who needs you.’

Chip hopped away, once again surprisingly light-hearted. He found Wood Anemone with Willowherb, both spreading out Moon Mushrooms to dry in the sun, and he watched them from a distance. The sunlight was lighting up Willowherb’s ruddy fur and shining through the glossy hairs of her tail. He knew what he should do.

He went across the grass to her side.

‘Willowherb-Friend. Will you be my life-mate?’

‘Yewr life-mate uz
will
be.’

Chipling brushed whiskers with Willowherb then with Wood Anemone, who appeared to be as pleased as her daughter who was already racing up a tree, giving a tease call for him to follow her.

Winter passed, with all of the squirrels who had already had two or more dreylings happily joining in the monthly Moon Mushroom Eating ceremonies. March came in gently to the peaceful island.