A Secret in Time

by H. Y. Hanna

  “Ruffster—”

  He looked back.

  “I think we’ve gone wrong,” said Honey. “I smelled fresh water earlier—I think there’s a river at the bottom of the field and we’ve ended up near it. Look.” She scanned the area around them. “The grass here is different. It looks more like reeds. And the ground is getting all boggy and marshy ... I think we should turn around and head back the way we came.”

  Ruffster looked around. “Yeah, but which way is that?”

  Honey followed his gaze into the thick, swirling mist around them and felt a chill of fear slide down her spine. Are we lost?

  “Wait, I think I can see somethin’,” Ruffster said excitedly. “Reckon the fence is over there. C’mon!”

  He turned and plunged to the right. There was a splashing, sucking sound and the next minute, Ruffster sank from sight.

  “Ruffster?” Honey cried. “Ruffster!”

  There was nothing but a soft sucking, squelching sound.

  Honey stumbled forwards to where Ruffster had been. The ground shifted beneath her paws. She stopped, panting heavily, her eyes wild. Where was he?

  The muddy bog in front of her suddenly exploded and a brown shape burst out, gagging and gasping for breath. It was Ruffster, covered in mud, paddling frantically to keep his head above the bog.

  “Ruffster! Oh, Great Dog Star—are you all right?” Honey asked.

  Ruffster panted and flailed in the mud, churning it with his front paws, but the more he struggled, the more he seemed to sink back into the bog. The mud rose up to his chin. Honey saw the whites of his eyes as he whined in fear.

  “Hang on—I’m coming to help you!” Honey rushed forwards, then stopped as she felt the ground slide beneath her paws. There was that awful sucking sound again and then she felt her paws go deeper into the mud.

  No.

  She tried to pull back, but the mud clamped around her legs like a giant sucking mouth. Panic shot through her. She looked desperately at Ruffster, who was almost completely buried in the mud now. All she could see of him was the tip of his nose, his eyes, and his one upright ear. Honey whimpered, her heart pounding, as the mud squelched around her. She felt her body move again and then a clammy coldness rising to her elbows. She realised what was happening.

  She was sinking.

  CHAPTER 17

  Honey fought the urge to start struggling. She knew from watching Ruffster that thrashing around would just make her sink even faster. Taking a deep breath, she tried to move her legs slowly backwards and, although the mud weighed heavily down on them, she felt them shift slightly. She felt a surge of hope. She tried again, leaning back and slowly dragging herself backwards.

  One step.

  Another step.

  And then she felt something firm beneath her back left paw ... then the right paw. Honey stopped and let out a breath. She had backed out of the bog enough to be able to stand partly on solid ground again. She could get away now but, of course, she wasn’t going to leave Ruffster. She looked worriedly at the mongrel mutt. He was holding his own—just managing to keep his nose and eyes above the mud—but she wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. He needed help. But she couldn’t do it on her own.

  Turning, Honey took a deep breath and began to bark: deep, booming Great Dane barks that carried through the mist. She had no idea if Suka and Biscuit were within hearing distance, but she had to try. After a minute, she stopped barking and listened, pricking her ears hopefully.

  Nothing.

  Honey’s heart sank, but she tried again, barking louder this time.

  Then she heard something. She paused, her ears straining for the sound. Did I imagine it? No, there it was again. An answering bark. Suka! Honey wagged her tail and started barking again, hoping that the sound would help her friends locate her. A few minutes later Suka and Biscuit suddenly appeared out of the mist.

  “Honey! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Suka rushed over. “The mist is so thick—even Biscuit was having a hard time following a scent. We thought—”

  “We need to help Ruffster,” Honey cut in quickly.

  Suka’s and Biscuit’s eyes widened in horror as they looked out at the bog.

  “It’s like quicksand,” said Suka, leaning forwards to sniff warily. “I was watching this programme in the TV box with my Boy. It was about dangerous places in the world and one of the places had quicksand.” She called out to Ruffster. “You’re supposed to try to make your body flat so that you can float on top.”

  Ruffster made a muffled sound and they saw a paw move weakly out of the mud.

  “He can’t,” said Honey. “He’s completely stuck. We have to help pull him out. But I don’t know how—when I tried to go in to help him, I nearly got sucked down too.”

  “I know!” said Suka. “We can make a chain! I saw them do it on this programme.”

  “A chain?” Biscuit looked puzzled.

  “Yes, the humans do it with their hands, but we just need to grab each other’s tails—that way, whoever goes in doesn’t have to worry about being sucked down.” Suka turned to Honey. “You should stay up here because you’re the biggest and heaviest. You have to act like the anchor.”

  “The anchor?” said Biscuit, looking even more puzzled.

  “That’s the heavy thing that’s tied to a ship to stop it floating away. It’s like a safe thing to hang on to.”

  “OK,” said Honey. “What do I have to do?”

  “Grab my tail,” said Suka, turning around and presenting her fluffy tail to Honey.

  Honey leaned forwards and gingerly took Suka’s tail between her teeth. It was very fluffy and hard to get a grip around the fur in her teeth.

  “OK, now I have to grab your tail,” Suka said to Biscuit. “And then you have to go into the bog and grab any part of Ruffster that you can get hold of.”

  “Me?” Biscuit squeaked. “You want me to go into the bog?”

  “Just imagine that Ruffster’s a big jam doughnut,” said Suka impatiently. “You’d want to go into the bog for that, wouldn’t you?”

  There was an indignant, muffled sound from Ruffster.

  “OK, ready?” asked Suka.

  They walked forwards slowly, with Biscuit making faces as he eased himself into the mud. Because he was a smaller dog than Honey, he managed to get a lot closer to Ruffster before he began to sink.

  “Aaarggghh!” he yelped. “I’m sinking!”

  “Keep calm ... don’t panic,” said Suka through her teeth clenched around Biscuit’s tail. “I’ve got a hold of you. Just keep moving forwards slowly.”

  Biscuit gulped, then waded in a bit further. He stretched his neck out and strained towards Ruffster. A few inches more ...

  “I’m there!” he shouted. He groped around and managed to grab a bit of Ruffster’s scruff. “OK! I’ve got him!”

  “Try to walk backwards,” said Suka, starting to move backwards herself, while keeping her teeth still clamped onto Biscuit’s tail. Further up the chain, Honey braced her back legs and shifted her weight backwards, pulling as gently as she could on Suka’s tail.

  Biscuit grunted and shuffled backwards, pulling Ruffster with him. For one awful moment, Honey thought the mud wouldn’t let Ruffster go—it was holding on fast. Then there was a loud squelching sound and half of Ruffster’s body suddenly heaved out of the mud. He coughed and spluttered.

  “He’s coming!” squealed Biscuit.

  “Pull backwards!” shouted Suka. “Everybody pull backwards!”

  Honey braced her legs again and started backing away from the bog, pulling Suka with her as she went. She could feel the resistance going down the chain as Suka pulled on Biscuit and Biscuit pulled on Ruffster. There was another loud sucking sound and Ruffster’s whole body slid out of the mud. He started scrabbling weakly with his front paws. With Biscuit’s help, he was able to crawl slowly to drier ground.

  “Ruffster, are you OK?” Honey asked, licking the mud off his face.

&n
bsp; The mongrel mutt coughed and shook himself, standing up shakily. “Yeah ... think so.”

  “Yuck,” said Biscuit, looking down at himself. He was covered in mud up to his chest. He whined dismally. “My Missus is going to kill me when she sees me like this. I’m definitely going to be stuck in a crate tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Suka, your tail!” cried Honey, looking at the Husky’s tail which was now a bedraggled tangle of fur, nothing like the magnificent cloud of white fluff it had been.

  Suka looked over her back and grinned. “I think I like it this way better. Anyway, don’t worry—didn’t I tell you? We lost the last show so I’m not competing anymore. I can get as dirty as I like!”

  They rolled on the grass and shook themselves to try to get the mud off as well as they could. Luckily, it hadn’t dried and hardened on their bodies yet and the grass was so wet that it acted almost like a damp towel. When they had finished, Ruffster was the only one who was still covered in muddy streaks.

  “You’re heading for a bath tomorrow,” predicted Suka, looking at him critically.

  Honey shuddered. After cats, baths were her worst nightmare. She looked down at her own body, thankful that the short, Dane coat meant that most things came off easily. Her roll in the grass had wiped most of the traces of mud from her fur. By morning, any bits that she had missed would have dried and crumbled off. As long as Olivia didn’t look too closely at her when she got back, she might be OK.

  “How are we going to get back now?” asked Honey worriedly. “We could all get lost again and fall into another bog—”

  “I can track our scent,” said Biscuit, putting his nose to the ground. “Now that Suka and I have come over from the fence, I can follow our tracks back there.”

  They started making their way back across the field. Ruffster was a bit wobbly, but managed to keep up with everybody else.

  “You know,” said Honey thoughtfully as she plodded over the wet grass. “I wonder why the Phantom Hound was trying to get me to follow him into this field that night I saw him by the Viking ship. There doesn’t seem to be anything here ... except the river at the bottom of the field.”

  “Aw, mate, there is no Phantom Hound,” said Ruffster.

  “There is,” insisted Honey. “I’m not making it up. I saw him with my own eyes.”

  “Well, I’m not believin’ it till I see him with my own eyes,” said Ruffster.

  A huge, black shape loomed out of the mist next to him.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Chokin’ chicken bones!” Ruffster yelped, jumping a foot into the air.

  “Moooooooo!”

  The dogs all scrambled backwards as two hulking forms came up to them. A milky odour filled the air. Honey stared at the gentle, placid faces, the wide, long-lashed eyes, and big, distended bellies hanging from bony rumps and shoulders. Cows, she realised. They were cows.

  “Moooooo?” The bigger of the two cows turned its head to look at her, chewing slowly.

  “Er ... hello.” Honey wagged her tail hesitantly. She looked back at her friends and hissed, “Do any of you speak Cow?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “Maybe if you just say ‘moo’ after every word, they’ll understand you better,” suggested Suka.

  Honey turned back to the cows and said, as slowly and as clearly as she could, “We ... we’re just walking across the field. We’re trying to get back to the fence.” She paused, then added quickly, “Er ... moooo.”

  The bigger cow turned its head and peered at Ruffster, who shrank away, his hackles raised.

  “Moo. Why you scared?” The cow blinked at him.

  “He’s not scared of you,” Honey assured the cow. “We were just talking about the Phantom Hound and when you appeared out of the mist, we got a bit frightened.”

  The cows looked at each other and nodded, flicking their long ears. “Moo. Ghost dog.”

  Honey’s ears perked up. “Oh! Have you seen him?”

  The cows nodded and chewed placidly. There was a sudden plop sound and then a strong odour filled the air.

  “Oh my Dog!” Biscuit jumped up, his nose twitching madly. “Cow poo!” He dived under the cow’s belly, squeezed past the udder, and came up behind the cow, watching her bum avidly. There was another plop and Biscuit squealed with excitement. “This is better than those human machines that make soft, gooey ice-cream!”

  “Eww ... Biscuit, you’re not eating it?” said Suka. “That’s disgusting!”

  Honey turned back to the cows, who were still chewing placidly. “About the ghost dog ... where did you see him? Here? In the field? What does he do?”

  The cows looked to their right. Honey followed their gaze. The mist was lifting slightly now, she realised, the white fog thinning out so that you could catch glimpses of the countryside around them. In the distance, though the trails of vapour, she could see a different fence. This one must have bordered the far side of the field, away from the arena. Beyond it, she could see nothing but darkness.

  “There. Moo. Over fence. To big hill beyond. Moo.” The bigger cow nodded. “Many times.”

  “Oh,” said Honey, looking at the far fence again.

  “What’s he doing there?” asked Suka.

  The cows made no answer other than another plop, which was followed by another squeal from Biscuit.

  “I think we’d better go before Biscuit turns into a cowpat,” said Suka in an undertone.

  Honey nodded. She wagged her tail at the cows. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  The cows snorted through their big, velvety nostrils, then with another deep “Moooo...” they turned and plodded away. Biscuit watched them go wistfully.

  “We’ve got to find out what’s over that fence ... why the Phantom Hound keeps going to that big hill ...” said Honey excitedly.

  Ruffster shook his ears irritably. “For kibble’s sake, mate, you’re not seriously goin’ to believe what those two moo-heads said?”

  “I believe them,” said Suka.

  “Me too,” said Biscuit.

  “Fine, fine,” Ruffster grumbled. “But how are we goin’ to get out there? It’s hard enough gettin’ away from the humans when we’re at home—it’s almost impossible here at the show. They’re always watchin’ us and there are people everywhere.”

  “That’s Suka’s department,” said Honey with a smile. “I can’t wait to see what she thinks up this time.”

  They got back with no problems and Anja crept back to her tent, with the humans none-the-wiser about their whole escapade. Well, except for the puzzled looks that Ruffster got when they noticed the dried mud clinging to his body. But it was late and everybody was tired so the questions were put off until morning.

  Honey woke early the next morning. She yawned, sitting up on the old horse blanket that Olivia had laid down for her, and tried to stretch in the cramped space. These caravans sure weren’t designed for Great Danes—or any other large breed, really. It was no wonder that most of the bigger show dogs seemed to sleep outside in crates or tents. Honey looked around. The humans were both still fast asleep in their bunks, with Ruffster’s Guy snoring loudly. Ruffster himself was sleeping up near the front of the caravan, curled up into a tight ball, with his nose under his tail.

  From the faint light filtering in through the caravan windows, it looked like the sun had only just risen. Honey stood up and carefully made her way over to the windows, pushing her nose between the blinds to get a better view. This side of the caravan faced out towards the field at the back of the arena. Since they were the last caravan parked on the end of the row, there was an uninterrupted view straight out to the field and beyond.

  Honey peered through the glass. There was an early morning mist—a pale haze that hugged the line of the horizon and obscured parts of the field. Through the misty veil she thought she could make out the shape of two hulking figures standing on one side of the field, their heads lowered companionably together. The cows, she thought.

  Then she
saw something else that set her heart racing

  A pale grey form was drifting past the cows and moving slowly across the field. The Phantom Hound! Honey began to whine with excitement, running back and forth between the window and the caravan door. He was here! She had another chance to follow him! She had to get out!

  She tried to nudge the caravan door open with her nose but it was locked. Panting with frustration, she whirled and ran back to the window one more time, shoving her head at the glass for another look. The blinds smacked and rattled as she jammed her nose between them. She bounced impatiently on her toes as she saw the Phantom Hound again, weaving in and out of the mist. Where was he going?

  Behind her, she heard exclamations and groans—then somebody yelling her name. Honey looked back and realised that the whole caravan was rocking from side to side.

  “Cripes ...” Ruffster’s Guy sat up in his bunk and rubbed his face. He groaned and looked at Olivia in the other bunk. “This whole place is shaking! Your great horse of a dog is going to overturn the whole caravan if she doesn’t stop.”

  Olivia sat up, scowling. Her hair looked like a bird nest after the baby birds had had a really good party while mummy and daddy bird were away for the weekend. She squinted at Honey. “For goodness’ sake, Honey, what are you doing?”

  Honey whined again and paced in a circle.

  “Maybe she needs to go to the toilet,” suggested Ruffster’s Guy, yawning.

  Olivia sighed. “Oh, all right. Give me a sec.” She hauled herself out of the bunk and shrugged into a hoodie, then stumbled towards the caravan door. She had barely slid back the bolt and turned the door handle when Honey was pushing her way past and thrusting through the door.

  “Hey! Wait—Honey! Honey!”

  Honey ignored her, stumbling down the caravan steps and bounding towards the fence which enclosed the field. She strained her eyes to keep the Phantom Hound in sight. He was heading away now—she could see his pale grey form moving towards the far fence on the other side of the field. Honey galloped faster, her heart hammering in her chest. Where was he going? She had to find out.