by H. Y. Hanna
Suddenly there was a bellow of anger. The man with the tray was spinning around wildly, one leg jerking to the side, his eyes bulging.
“Get off me! GET OFF ME!”
The crowd surged and swelled around him as people jostled each other to see what was happening. Honey ducked her head down to look between people’s legs and saw something clamped to the man’s right trouser leg. Something black and tan, with floppy ears and a podgy belly. Biscuit!
The Beagle had grabbed the hem of the man’s trousers and was now tugging it ferociously, twisting and yanking his head left and right, as the man staggered around him. The man was trying to kick him off, but Biscuit hung on with a tenacity that a terrier would have been proud of. He gritted his teeth and wouldn’t let go, pulling the man towards the ring with the Beagles.
Honey suddenly realised what Biscuit was trying to do. She also realised that he wasn’t going to make it. Already, people in the crowd were swooping down, trying to catch him. She sprang up and, without thinking, charged into the crowd. Pushing her way through the bodies, she lunged towards the man with the tray and rammed her shoulder into his back, throwing all her weight into him.
“Aaaaaarrgghhh!”
He lurched towards the ring, crashing into the rope barriers around it, and tipped over. His arms flailed madly, desperately trying to save the tray, but it was too late. It flew out of his hands and flipped in mid-air, scattering its contents across the ring.
There was a shocked silence for a minute—and then a dozen Beagle voices cried:
“COOKIES!”
Chaos erupted as all the pet Beagles in the line instantly dived towards the nearest cookie. The show Beagles hesitated for a moment, trying to maintain their professionalism, then with an excited “A-Woo-woo-woo-woo” they, too, joined in. Within minutes, the whole ring had been transformed into a Beagle feeding frenzy, with dogs gobbling cookies as fast as they could. The humans gasped and shouted, calling their dogs back in vain. Some began running after their dogs, trying to catch them, and tripping over other dogs. The judge stood waving his arms and yelling. The humans outside the ring tried to help, shouting instructions and falling over the rope barrier as they tried to reach inside to grab the running dogs.
Biscuit came up to join them, his eyes bright with excitement. “Thanks, Honey.”
“Yeah, that was pawsome,” said Suka, giving Honey an approving wag of her tail. “You’re always such a goody-two-paws, I never thought you had it in you.” She glanced at their own humans, who were busy joining in the melee. “C’mon! Let’s get out of here before they remember us.”
Honey gave the chaos one last look before following the others as they darted through the crowds and raced out of the arena.
CHAPTER 21
Getting away from the arena turned out to be easier than they had thought. The huge numbers of people milling around today worked in their favour. Even when they got outside the arena, the place was still packed with families and children clutching balloons, popcorn, and candyfloss—some coming to watch the dog shows, but many also heading to the rides and games in the fairground.
No one was paying much attention to anyone else and it was easy for them to just merge into the crowd. If anyone did notice them, they simply assumed Honey and her friends belonged to one of the humans milling around.
They had come out on the west side of the arena, quite close to where they had dug up the paper scraps last night, and they soon reached the fence at the back. One by one, they wriggled through, then began trotting across the field. The cows were nowhere in sight today—perhaps they had been moved to another field—but Honey was familiar enough with the terrain now to know exactly which direction they needed to head in: away from the arena, to the fence on the far side.
She set off at a run, carefully skirting the boggy area around the river. With the sun up and the rain having stopped for two days, the mud looked a lot drier and firmer now, but she was taking no chances. She didn’t stop until she arrived at the far fence. She paused there, breathing hard, as she waited for the others to catch up.
“Are we really going out there?” asked Biscuit as he arrived, peering through the bars of the fence.
Honey followed his gaze. In the distance, she could see the land rise to form a small hill. It was not one of those gentle, round, grassy hills, but a craggy, jagged mound with big, grey boulders protruding from between the grassy slopes and one large, rocky outcrop that hung out over the side of the hill. It looked wild, lonely, and un-inviting.
Honey swallowed uneasily, but said, “Yes, we need to find out why the Phantom Hound keeps going there.”
The soil around the fence here was more waterlogged, therefore softer and easier to dig. They tunnelled their way underneath the lowest bar in no time and started towards the hill. The grass on the outside of the fence was thicker and higher, and grew in clumps and tussocks—this section of land must have been left to grow wild. It made the going a lot tougher, but the dogs ploughed their way through as best as they could, trying to find gaps between the tussocks. Apart from the occasional call of a skylark flying past, the rustle of grass beneath their paws, and the sound of their panting, everything was quiet. After the bustle and noise of the arena, it felt almost eerie.
“Looks strange from here—almost like one of my Boy’s toys,” Suka commented, pausing and looking back at the arena.
Honey stopped and looked as well. Even though she knew it wasn’t that far away, the Showgrounds suddenly looked very small and distant, the buzz of the crowds and the excitement of the show ring nothing more than a faint memory. She wondered what their humans were doing now. They must have noticed that the dogs were missing. Honey felt a twinge of guilt. It had all seemed like a fun game back in the arena, but now she began to wonder if they had done the right thing. What if the humans got really upset and worried?
Well, it was too late now. After all the trouble they had taken of planning a big escape, they might as well make it worth it. Honey turned back to look ahead. The hill was looming up in front of them now, its rocky sides sloping upwards. She started the scramble up. The others followed. Although it was not steep, the ground was uneven, with large rocks and stones that shifted beneath their paws and occasionally bigger boulders that protruded from the grass, forcing them to find detours around the rocky obstacles.
Ruffster squinted at the sky. “Sun’s goin’ ... looks like rain’s comin’ soon.”
Honey looked up. He was right. The sun was beginning to be obscured by heavy grey clouds and the sky was darkening. It looked like the rain was coming back again. A strong wind was starting up as well, bringing a chill to the air.
She quickened her steps. The rain started coming down—large, fat drops that pelted their faces and bodies. Honey hung her head and tucked her tail under. She hated getting wet. She glanced at her friends—they were still stoically climbing next to her, but she could see from their drooping ears and tails that they weren’t having a good time. The wind whipped around them, plastering their wet fur to their shivering bodies.
“How much longer do we have to keep going?” asked Biscuit plaintively, water dripping off his nose.
“We’re almost at the top,” said Honey.
“Yeah, mate, but then what?” said Ruffster, shaking water out of his eyes. “What d’you expect to find?” He looked around at the bare rocks and sodden grass around them. “There’s nothin’ here. No sign o’ life at all.”
“I don’t know ...” Honey paused uncertainly. “I thought we could explore the hill, sniff around ... maybe search for ... I don’t know, but I’m sure the Phantom Hound keeps coming here for a reason.”
“Aw, for kibble’s sake, I can’t believe we’re drownin’ here in the rain all because o’ some stupid ghost dog.” Ruffster shook himself in disgust, spraying water everywhere. He had lost his blue ribbon long ago, and now the tape which held down his upright ear popped up suddenly and was caught by the wind. Ruffster watched it swirl away
in dismay. “This is totally ruinin’ my new look!”
Secretly, Honey thought Ruffster looked a lot better now that his coat was more like its old, scruffy self and his ears were back to their mismatched glory, but she kept her thoughts to herself. She had never known him to care so much about his looks or even worry about being a mongrel—it just wasn’t like him. But then I guess he never wanted to impress a French pedigree poodle before, she thought wryly.
“Maybe we should get out of the rain first,” suggested Suka. “We can’t do any proper sniffing and searching when it’s pouring down like this. Let’s find some shelter and when the rain stops, we can try again.”
“OK, but where?” asked Ruffster, looking around again. “Don’t see any place to shelter.”
“How about there?” Biscuit looked over at the large, rocky outcrop that stuck out over one side of the hill. “If we can get under that big rock, we might get away from the rain.”
“C’mon!” Suka said eagerly, leading the way.
The rock was bigger than they thought and there was a wide space beneath the overhang. They crawled under and huddled together, shivering. The rain was coming down in sheets now and the wind was getting fiercer, whipping around the rocky outcrop and blowing the rain sideways so that it still showered on the dogs.
“Ugh. I’m still gettin’ wet,” said Ruffster, pushing against the others as he tried to shuffle more under the overhang.
Honey hung her head miserably, water trailing down her face and seeping into her ears. She was regretting the whole trip now. Ruffster was right—there was nothing here on this big hill and they were just wasting their time. They were going to get into huge trouble with the humans when they went back for what they had done at the Beagle show, and it was all for nothing. Honey thought longingly of the soft old horse blanket in the caravan. She could have been curled up there now, catching up on her sleep. She shivered. She was cold, she was wet, and she wanted a cuddle from Olivia.
“Maybe the rain will ease up soon,” said Suka cheerfully.
Honey looked enviously at her. Suka never seemed that bothered by wild weather. Maybe it was her thick Husky coat, which protected her from the wind, or the blood of her Arctic ancestors which gave her a love of being out in the elements. In mid-winter, Suka actually thought that sleeping out in the snow was fun.
“Hey, there’s a cave back here!” Biscuit exclaimed, moving deeper under the overhang.
Just below where the large rock wedged into the hill, there was an opening. Biscuit disappeared into this, his tail wagging. Honey had to duck her head to get into the cave, but once inside, she found that the ceiling sloped upwards into a dome so that she could almost stand comfortably if she remembered to keep her head lowered. The cave was fairly spacious. Most important of all, it was warm and dry. They all piled in gratefully and lay down, listening to the sound of rain falling outside and the wind howling around them.
“I wonder how long the rain is goin’ to last for,” said Ruffster after a while. “If we don’t get back soon, the humans are goin’ to get really worried about us.”
“They’re probably really worried already,” said Suka with an anxious flick of her tail. “Oh, I hope my Boy isn’t too upset. Maybe we shouldn’t have come ...”
“Mate, I told you this was all a wild goose paté chase,” said Ruffster impatiently. “Reckon the answer to the mystery is back in the arena. We should be watchin’ that snooty Afghan, Dior ... I’m tellin’ you he’s up to no good.”
“We can’t just go around jumping on other dogs, like you did with Ferrari!” growled Suka.
“Hey, that pup needed a good lesson!”
“Yes, but look what happened—it made all the other dogs suspicious of you.”
“That’s not my fault!”
Honey glanced at Biscuit, who had been very quiet. The Beagle was looking deeper into the cave, his nose twitching. She noticed that the hackles were up along his back. She raised her own nose and sniffed deeply, but could smell nothing other than the strong odour of “wet dog” coming from all their damp bodies. Still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t something there. Biscuit had the best nose in town—what he couldn’t smell wasn’t worth smelling.
“What is it, Biscuit?” she whispered.
“Something ...” The Beagle hesitated, sniffing the air. “In the cave ...”
“Hush!” Honey turned to Suka and Ruffster, who were still arguing. “Listen!”
They all pricked their ears and listened. Honey strained to hear above the noise of the wind and rain outside. Was there something ...?
Yes. Her heart gave a kick of fear. It was faint, but she could hear the sound of breathing, deep in the cave. Biscuit was right.
There was something in there.
Honey scrambled to her feet and smacked her head on the cave ceiling. “Ow!” She had forgotten how low it was. The others also sprang up, startled by her behaviour.
“What is it?” Suka asked, her eyes wide.
“There’s ... there’s something in there,” said Biscuit, staring deeper into the cave, his nose still working furiously. “I think ... I’m not sure, but I think it’s—”
A low growl came from deep inside the cave and then something moved—a shaggy brown shape that reared suddenly out of the darkness and lurched towards them.
“Shivering sausages, it’s a monster!” squealed Biscuit, scrambling backwards.
Suka edged closer to Honey, her lips curled back to show her teeth. Ruffster stood his ground, his hackles bristling. Honey looked around wildly, wondering if they could back out of the cave. They must have wandered into the home of some wild creature. She wasn’t sure what it was and right now she didn’t care. She just wanted to get out safely.
Then she cocked her head in puzzlement.
Wait.
That growling ... it sounded almost ... canine.
“H ... Hello?” She took a hesitant step forwards. “My name is Honey.”
Ruffster looked at her incredulously. “Mate, you crazy? We’re about to be eaten by some monster hairball and you’re tryin’ to make friends?”
“I don’t think it is a monster,” said Honey slowly, peering at the shaggy, brown shape. In the dim light filtering in through the mouth of the cave, she could see long, matted cords of hair hanging from the creature’s body. A pair of brown eyes gleamed from within the tangled mess covering the creature’s head. “I think it’s a dog.”
“A ... a dog?”
The others turned to look at the creature curiously, their fear slowly fading away. Biscuit stretched his neck out tentatively and sniffed the shaggy coat. Honey took another step forwards; she looked into those wary, brown eyes and wagged her tail.
“Hello?” she tried again. “My name is Honey and these are my friends, Suka, Biscuit, and Ruffster. Can ... can you understand me?”
“Yes,” said the shaggy dog. His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. He stood up taller, raising his head slowly. “My name is Graf.”
CHAPTER 22
“Graf? But ... I thought Graf died ten years ago in that fire at the Showgrounds?” Suka stared at him.
The shaggy dog sighed. “That’s what everyone thought.”
He moved slowly past them to the mouth of the cave and stepped outside. They all followed him. The wind seemed to be dying down now and the rain was slowing. The skies were brightening up a bit. It looked like the storm was over ... for now.
Graf walked stiffly to the edge of the overhang and looked out across the field. Now that he was out in the light, Honey was able to get a good look at him for the first time. He was old—very old—his back legs splayed with arthritis and his eyes filmy with cataracts. She could see the thick dreadlocks now that covered his face and body—the typical coat of the Puli—although his were no longer white. Living out here in the wild with no bath or grooming, his coat had become a dirty greyish-brown colour, with darker stains around his head and paws. From a distance, it w
as difficult to even make out the shape of his body—he just looked like one big, dirty mop. It was hard to believe that he was once a champion show dog.
“You mean, you escaped the fire? But ... I don’t understand.” Ruffster scratched his ear in confusion. “Why didn’t you go back and let everyone know?”
“Yes, they were searching for you for days.” Biscuit nodded. “One of the older Beagles told me. He was in the search party ten years ago. He said your human was going crazy.”
“My human?” Graf’s ears perked up.
“She still hasn’t forgotten you,” said Honey. “The Royal Show is back at the Showgrounds this year for the first time since the fire and she’s come back too. I saw her looking at your picture on the wall. She was crying.”
Suka wagged her fluffy tail excitedly. “Howling Hyenas, she’s going to be so happy when she sees you again!”
Graf sighed again and looked away. “I can’t go back.”
“Why not, mate?” Ruffster gaped at him. “You don’t want to go on livin’ out here! Reckon it’s a miracle you haven’t starved to death.”
“I can catch things,” said Graf. “And there’s a big farm on the other side of this hill where they throw out loads of rubbish. I go and scavenge there sometimes. The cave is warm and dry. I’ve been here nearly ten years now and I’ve been OK.”
“Aw, c’mon, mate,” said Ruffster incredulously. “You’re not serious? Dogs aren’t supposed to live all alone.”
Graf sat down and hung his head. “You don’t understand. I can’t go back. I ... I’m too ashamed,” he said in a low voice.
“Ashamed?” Suka and Biscuit looked at him in confusion.
Ruffster cocked his head. “Mate, what are you talkin’ about? Why would you be ashamed to go back?”
Honey stared at Graf, her mind whirling. She looked at his shaggy, matted coat, at the way the colour darkened around his head, especially around one of his ears. She thought of that picture of the dog that looked so like him, except with the one grey ear. And she thought of that message they had deciphered in those paper fragments: “WHITE DYE CAUTION: FLAMMABLE”. Suddenly everything fell into place.