by Chris Hill
The Fleet army had withdrawn and the Albion trees were safe once again. Two exhausted dogs and one small fox cub trotted up Park Road. Amber was going to be in deep trouble with her mother when she got back to the home-den. But who cared? Being a police fox was fun!
“So, what we going to do tomorrow?” she asked.
“We aren’t doing anything tomorrow,” growled Finlay.
“Go on, Fin,” said Eric. “She could come on patrol with us, couldn’t she?”
“Patrol?” said Finlay, horrified. “Foxes can’t patrol. They can’t follow orders!”
“I can follow orders—honest!”
“Yeah, go on, Fin, give her a chance. She was great at the Albion.” Eric and Amber looked at him imploringly.
Blood and bone, thought the police dog, I know I’m going to regret this.
The Ma requested a meeting with the Honorable Mistress Tarragon Fleet. Lucky, Nimlet, and Mazie escorted her through the trees.
“Ooh-ooh, I suppose I’m going to have to go home today—I’ve got to go back to look after my Family. There’s a lot to do.”
“Of course, Honorable Mistress,” said Lucky formally.
“Ooh-ooh, don’t be silly. We’re all friends. You don’t have to call me that!”
“But you’re Head of the Family Fleet now,” said Nimlet. “That’s—that’s like being the Ma!”
“And you have saved my life—so you will all come to visit the Northend, whenever you like.”
Nimlet looked doubtful. “We might not be allowed.”
“Nonsense,” said Tarragon haughtily. “I’m in charge now and I shall command it!”
She’s going to be very good at giving orders, thought Lucky.
They reached the Meeting Drey, and a very official-looking Daughter Attendant ushered Tarragon inside.
It was plain that this meeting was private. For the first time in the history of the Avenue, Cloudfoot and Northender sat down to talk. The Ma was very impressed with the young female. She may not have learned the Knowledge, but she was eager to understand Cloudfoot ways and share them with her Family.
“There will be no more raids from the Family Fleet, Great Ma; we shall be your allies. But I cannot speak for the rest of the Families,” Tarragon declared.
“Yes, they are a feral bunch,” said the Ma sourly.
“No more feral than you would be, ma’am, if there was no space in your trees and your young were always hungry,” said Tarragon, suddenly sharp and serious.
The Ma stiffened her whiskers; this female was full of surprises—what a pity she wasn’t a Cloudfoot! “I see. So what do you suggest?”
“Ooh-ooh,” said Tarragon brightly, “I’ve got lots of ideas …”
The Ma was very pleased. It would be a long and difficult branch to travel, but Tarragon’s ideas might just work. Yes, why not trade with the Northenders, each clan learning from the other? We could all be allies … it would take time … a united Avenue … Another thought struck her: They will call me “Great Ma the Peacemaker”! Yes, the idea was very pleasing.
She did not, however, seem pleased when Lucky, Nimlet, and Mazie were summoned into the Meeting Drey. “We are hard pushed to know where to begin,” she said coldly. “It seems that none of you can obey orders, and one of you is a defector to the camp of our former enemy.” She fixed them all with her beady eyes. “Would any of you like to honor us with an explanation?”
Mazie stepped forward and bobbed formally. “Ma’am, as senior female of the group I take all responsibility.”
“I’m sure you do, Miss Trimble,” said the Ma coldly, “and I expect First Daughter will be having stern words with you later—but I would like to know what these gentlemen have to say for themselves.”
Oh no! thought Nimlet, his whiskers trembling violently. We are so in for it! He gave Lucky an imploring look.
He could fight a horde of Northenders, thought Lucky, but when it comes to facing the Ma he’s petrified.
“Thanks, Nim!” he mouthed, and stepped boldly forward. “Ma’am, I would like to say that the plan was ours, but the idea was Mistress Tarragon’s.”
“So you are blaming the Head of the Family Fleet for your actions?” said the Ma icily.
“No, ma’am!” said Lucky, horrified. “I’m giving her the credit! Northenders have to win honorably. Mistress Tarragon was sure they’d retreat if they were told the truth about her uncle’s plot. Nimlet pretended to defect so that he’d be close by to protect her—so that she’d be heard.”
This was not what the Ma had expected. “Indeed?” she said, impressed despite herself. “And did Mistress Tarragon advise you to leave your home-tree when First Daughter had expressly told you to stay?”
Lucky’s tail twitched uncomfortably. Here it comes, he thought. The inevitable judgment. He’d failed the Run, disobeyed orders, and obviously wasn’t “Cloudfoot material.”
“No, ma’am,” he admitted miserably. “I just wanted to rescue my friends and protect the Avenue.”
“I see,” said the Ma; she seemed deep in thought.
“Pardon my interruption, Great Ma,” said Tarragon, “but if you intend to Cast Down these males, I will offer them a place in the Family Fleet trees. They are my friends and I am in their debt.”
“A generous offer, Mistress Tarragon, but I fear that will not be possible.”
Lucky and Nimlet didn’t dare look at Tarragon or Mazie. This was awful.
The Ma stood up stiffly and looked the two squirrels over. “Gentlemen, our Avenue has always had need of brave and dedicated Defenders,” she declared. “Squirrels who are Cloudfoot material, through and through.” There was a pause … then her old face broke into a smile. “If ever there were two squirrels worthy of the name Cloudfoot, it is Mr. Lucky and Mr. Nimlet!”
Mazie gasped in surprise, and Tarragon clapped her paws in delight. Lucky and Nimlet just stared in openmouthed amazement.
Had the Ma really just said that?
“Gentlemen, you will both be joining the Watch and Patrol—and that,” she said firmly, “is the Word of Ma!”
“It doesn’t matter how many times you see a squirrel, it’s always exciting!” That’s what my daughter used to say—and she’s so right.
Squirrels live happily in our city parks and take full advantage of any human food that might come their way—but they’re not tame, they’re not pets. Squirrels are the closest thing many of us get to a wild animal, and watching them is fascinating.
The red squirrel in my story is a dainty creature with a bristly thin tail and spiky ear tufts. The gray squirrel is heavier and stockier, with round ears and a fuller tail. Which squirrel you usually see will depend very much upon where in the world you live.
The native squirrels in North America are generally gray. It’s the red squirrel that’s native to the United Kingdom and mainland Europe—but in 1876 a pair of North American grays were brought over to England and released in a park. People liked the look of the “new” squirrels—they were a novelty—and grays were shipped in all over the country, even to Regent’s Park in London. It was a disaster for the native reds.
A lot of people believe that the grays were aggressive invaders. They weren’t. They were just doing what any wild animal does—surviving and reproducing. The problem was that gray squirrels were better at it than the reds. They could eat a wider variety of foods, travel farther distances, and, most importantly, they were immune to squirrel pox virus and other diseases that could kill the reds. Worse, they could carry the virus unharmed and spread it among the red community. By the time people realized what was happening and made the red squirrels a protected species, it was too late. The grays had moved into most of the red squirrel habitats in the United Kingdom.
Some colonies of reds survive in Scotland and northern parts of England, others on islands where the grays have never been introduced. The reds in mainland Europe are similarly protected and are still thriving as the native species—but keeping the grays out is a continuous batt
le.
If you want to know more about red squirrel conservation, try these websites:
UK RED SQUIRREL GROUP
www.forestry.gov.uk/fr/ukrsg
RED SQUIRREL SURVIVAL TRUST
www.rsst.org.uk
SAVE OUR SQUIRRELS
www.saveoursquirrels.org.uk
Chris Hill
To the Honorable Mistress Beverley of the Family Birch, my wonderful editor and mentor—thank you.
To Rosemary Stones, who read my first faltering chapters and gave me the confidence to continue. Dogged appreciation goes to Harry Hound, Millie Mutt, and their humans, especially Corporal B. for the military input. Thanks to Detectives B. & T. for the policing information, and also to my youngest critics, Alvise and Molly, and my sternest, Andrew.
For the support, help, love, and general putting-up-with-me, I thank my own clan, Richard, Sam, and Alice.
Finally … Lucky would not have been possible without Barry Cunningham, who championed and nurtured the idea through all its manifestations. Thank you for believing in the squirrels.
Chris Hill is a shoe designer and lectures in footwear design, history, and technology. Lucky is her debut novel. She divides her time between London and North Yorkshire, England.
Copyright © 2016 by Chris Hill
All rights reserved. Published by Chicken House, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, CHICKEN HOUSE, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2014 by Chicken House, 2 Palmer Street, Frome, Somerset BA11 1DS.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hill, Chris (Chris Ann), author.
Lucky / by Chris Hill.—First edition.
pages cm
Summary: Lucky is a young red squirrel who was rescued from a hawk and now must somehow make his home among the Cloudfoot clan of larger, gray squirrels who live in the city park—and trouble is brewing, for the rival gray squirrels known as the Northenders are planning an invasion.
Includes bibliographical references.
1. Eurasian red squirrel—Juvenile fiction. 2. Gray squirrel—Juvenile fiction. 3. Identity (Psychology)—Juvenile fiction. 4. Social acceptance—Juvenile fiction. 5. Friendship—Juvenile fiction. [1. Red squirrels—Fiction. 2. Gray squirrel—Fiction. 3. Squirrels—Fiction. 4. Animals—Fiction. 5. Identity—Fiction. 6. Self-confidence—Fiction. 7. Friendship—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.1.H56Lu 2016
823.92—dc23
[Fic]
2015024728
First edition, March 2016
Cover design by Mary Claire Cruz
Cover art © 2016 by Greg Call
e-ISBN 978-0-545-84053-8
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