The War for the Lot

by Sterling Lanier

  Everyone stared at a fern clump beside the tree.

  Out of it there poked a small, round, brown head with shiny black eyes and long whiskers. The little ears were almost hidden in dark fur. It was a meadow mouse.

  "Good day," said the mouse nervously. He came out further and eyed the otter, the skunk, and the raccoon with suspicion.

  "Hello," said Alec. "Were you looking for me?"

  "Yes, I was. Whisperfoot sent a lot of us out to find you. Fresh news has come in, you see, and you're wanted back up there in your hole, wanted right away."

  "Thanks," said the boy. "I'll see the rest of you later. So long." He ran off through the wood, leaving the animals staring after him.

  Lou, looking out of the kitchen window, saw him coming out of the woods far down in the meadow and smiled at the sight of the racing boy. Alec rushed up on the porch, in the back door, and tore up the back stairs past Lou without speaking.

  "Now what's got into him?" she murmured aloud. "Hard to realize how kids is either asleep or moving faster than them jet planes!"

  Once in his room, Alec shut the door and sent a call. In a second, the pretty deermouse had popped out of her hole and was sitting on the pillow facing the boy. At the same time, Worthless emerged from under the bed, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

  "They're coming tonight!" said Whisperfoot, wasting no words. "Come out here, Creeper, and tell them what happened."

  "Well," said the fat house mouse, emerging from the hole and jumping to the top of the bed, "it's like this. One of us, a house mouse as lives near the dump, he got pretty fresh early this morning and started poking fun at some rats who were all running around. 'Going some place?' he said. 'Lost something, like your head?' He kept it up, you know, asking if they weren't getting tired what with running around in circles, stuff like that.

  "Well, he got them pretty mad and stirred up. A young one started for him, said he'd teach him to laugh at the brown rats. The mouse got ready to duck into a hole, see, when a big, old rat popped up from somewhere and told the young one to leave him be.

  " 'After tonight, we won't have to bother about such little scum as him,' that's what the big one said. They must think we're pretty stupid. That mouse, he shot into his hole and passed the word right along. You won't ever get more warning than that, I don't think."

  A silence fell. Here it was at long last, the news for which they had been waiting so anxiously. There was no doubt in anyone's mind what was meant by the rat's remark. Even Creeper, who was not too bright, had figured it out the minute he heard it. "After tonight." Those were the important words.

  "Thanks," said Alec finally. "Thanks a lot, Creeper. Will you pass along the word that all of you have done a wonderful job, especially that mouse in the dump? We never could have made a plan without all of you helping. Honest, I really mean it."

  "Think nothing of it," said Creeper, although he had assumed his proud balloon shape and looked as though he were going to burst. "Always ready to help. When in doubt, call a house mouse, that's our saying."

  "We'll remember that the next time we have any doubts about anything," replied Worthless in acid tones. "Well, what now, Watcher? We talked this over and over until it's coming out of our ears. Nothing to do now but pass it on to the others and hope they'll be there when the time comes."

  "What do you mean, 'hope they'll be there,' you fat good-for-nothing?" said Whisperfoot. "Let's hope you'll be there, and not hiding under the bed."

  Before Alec could stop the row, the cat was speaking again. He actually apologized.

  "Sorry, slipped my tongue, you know. I really didn't mean to cast doubts on anyone. I'm sure the whole crew will be on hand. But we'd better get moving. It will take some time to get the news around. Too bad about the bear not being here just now."

  The deermouse said, "I sent out a message to him. We found a reliable bird—well, more or less reliable—an old ruffed grouse. He said he'd fly out to the bear's drinking place."

  "I've never talked to any birds but Soft Wing," said Alec. "Will Mowheen be able to understand this grouse?"

  "Oh, birds can talk all right," said the deermouse. "They sing and yell and chatter so much that they seldom bother to, though. When they want to, the bigger ones can get a message across."

  "I guess there's not much more we can do now," said the boy. "Worthless, you and I will sneak out tonight and head for the pond. You can stay here with the house mice," he thoughtlessly added to Whisperfoot, "and we—"

  "Stay here, nothing!" blazed out her answer. "I'm coming with you. After all this worry, to stay here and not know what's happening? What do you think I am, anyway?" Her long whiskers bristled and she was in a fine female temper.

  "But you can't fight," said Alec in worried tones. "You're too small and it will be very dangerous."

  "You can look after me. I'll be quite safe on your shoulder, I'm sure. I can duck into a pocket, if necessary." A flash of humor came from her quick mind. "If it gets really bad, the cat can save me—can't you, you fat creature?"

  Worthless took her jibing in a good humor. "Certainly, my dear. I will defend you to my last claw. Not a rat will lay so much as a whisker on your tail-tip. Of course, should I become hungry during the battle and feel like a small snack—" His mind picture grinned amiably.

  With a squeak of alarm, Creeper fled into the knothole. But the deermouse was unperturbed.

  "That settles it then. I'm coming," Whisperfoot said. "I may even be useful. You never know. Now," she went on, "it will be a long pull until we see the end of this. We all ought to rest. I'll go visit Creeper's people and have something to eat. See you at dark." She popped into the knothole. Alec suspected she wanted no more argument about going out with him and had chosen this method to get away.

  "She had a good thought there about rest," said the orange tomcat. "Why don't we have a snooze until your dinner time? I've eaten already."

  Alec kicked off his sneakers and climbed onto the bed and lay down. Worthless came and curled up next to him and the two were soon asleep, the long worry about the rats temporarily absent from the boy's mind. As for Worthless, no one has ever noticed a cat worry for long about anything.

  Chapter Eleven

  THAT EVENING, after supper, Alec sat on the back porch and watched the heavy thunderclouds against the darkening sky. He tingled all over and felt apprehensive. This waiting was the worst part! How much longer could those rats delay? His mind roved back and forth, reviewing everything he had done or thought of doing to help his friends. The map of The Lot was propped on his drawn-up knees and he once again reviewed all the symbols and tactics.

  Whisperfoot had come stealthily to him shortly after he had eaten supper. The alert had been given and all of the animals of The Lot—even those who had previously refused to help—had been notified of the coming onslaught from the dump. The scouts reported no sign of rats yet.

  Now heat still radiated from the earth to the sky. The vanished sun illumined banks of cloud, towering cliffs built high into the upper air, turning them pink, orange, and gold. The faint growl and rumble of thunder echoed along the horizon.

  "Sounds like Mowheen,'' thought Alec to himself. Just like an older general, he was growing increasingly nervous, watching the storm building and wondering what effect it would have on the movements of his forces and on those of the enemy. The boy had not previously thought of weather as a factor in a campaign, but now he sat brooding over the stormy sunset with his mind in the grip of growing nervous strain. He felt quite unsatisfied that he had done all he could.

  Presently, he rose at Lou's call and went inside, where he said good night to his grandfather and then retired to his bedroom for the night, sure that he would not be able to sleep.

  "Watcher! Wake up!" Whisperfoot's mind-voice came to Alec.

  He snapped awake at once and leapt out of bed, reaching for his sneakers, windbreaker and cap. Outside, all light was gone. It was oppressive and still very hot. As he pulled on his shoes
, Alec saw a brief flickering glow of distant heat lightning against the night sky, then the dark closed down again.

  "The rain's going to come hard when it comes," said Whisperfoot. "I hope we can all get where we belong before it soaks everything. It will be hard to hear noises too, if it's raining hard. Do you think they might decide not to come?"

  Alec snapped, "How do I know?"

  Whisperfoot saw he was upset and worried and decided to say no more.

  Alec finished putting on his shoes and at the same time kicked himself mentally at the mouse's last words. Rain and a storm might be advantageous to the defenders of The Lot, but he really ought to have thought more about its effect on the rats. Would they put off their move? He got up, still feeling irritable.

  "Come on," he said to Whisperfoot, "let's go."

  She scrambled up his arm to his shoulder and he opened the door. All was dark and quiet in the house. He carefully closed the door and headed for the front stairs.

  "Use the back," came the cat's voice in his head. "The old man is in the downstairs room with all those flat things that open up." He meant the library.

  Alec reversed course and went down the back stairs instead, finding Worthless waiting for him in the kitchen. They went out the back door, which was unlocked, and the three stood on the back porch looking at the dark and angry night. The hot wind moaned around the house, puffing the boy's jacket. It felt like a breath from a muggy swamp. Overhead, black clouds raced across the sky, driven before the coming storm. The on-and-off glow of lightning played around the rim of Alec's vision. The mutter of the distant thunder had now grown much louder. A first-class storm was on its way and fast.

  "This is going to be terrible," said the cat. "We'll be soaked through. Who can fight when they're dripping wet?"

  "We can," said Alec grimly. "If the brown rats are coming at all, they must have started by now. I don't think they'll go back, either. Come on. Let's get moving." He went around to the side of the porch and picked up his spade, left there earlier on purpose. The thought had suddenly occurred to him that afternoon that he had nothing to fight with himself. And he then had remembered John's present. Its handle was solid oak and the blade was steel. He felt that it might turn out to be a very useful tool before the end.

  Bending his head against the wind, he led the way out past the vegetable garden to the lower pasture and the break in the wall. Worthless, his fur fluffed by the electricity and excitement, came behind him, his yellow eyes gleaming in the reflected lightning flashes. Whisperfoot clung with all four feet to Alec's shoulder so she would not be blown off.

  Alec had no trouble finding the corner of the wall once his night sight grew better. He climbed over, followed by the cat, and headed down the narrow deer slot which led to the Council Glade, moving as fast as he could without bumping into things. In his right hand, he clutched the spade.

  The wood was very dark and filled with the sounds of the rising gale. Dead leaves blew about and tree trunks creaked and groaned as they bent to the wind. The thunder was now much louder and the lightning brightened so that the tree trunks were lit with a brief orange glow. Leaves blew into his face, but Alec kept his head down and his eyes fixed on the narrow track. Once, a great crash off to the left told that some forest giant had given up the struggle and fallen to the earth, but he paid no attention and pressed on. The big cat followed steadily and uncomplainingly in the rear.

  Sooner than he thought possible the lightning showed the Council Glade ahead. The tall grass at the edge of the clearing was bent flat by the wind and myriad small objects leaves, bark and bits of soil were blowing around and around in the air.

  Alec put one hand over his eyes and plunged straight through the open area and headed for the trail on the far side. Once out of the flying dirt and leaves, it was easier to see, although darker. Still, the lightning was very bright now and the path was clearly visible in its brief flashes. The ground underfoot felt damp and oozy and the boy knew that he must be approaching the pond. He sent out a thought ahead.

  "Scratch, Slider, Stuffer, where are you?"

  The answering confusion of mind-voices almost gave him a headache.

  "Watcher! Come straight ahead. We were afraid you wouldn't come. We're here! We're all ready!"

  Everyone was talking at once.

  He finally broke out through the brush at the little point between the two arms of the pond. He could see by the lightning flashes that it was crowded with a host of different animals skunks, raccoons, foxes, and many others.

  "What's the news? Where are the rats?" he asked. "Are they coming? Are they close? Don't all speak at once, it hurts my head. Scratch, you answer."

  The big raccoon came near Alec's feet and sat up. "They're not too far away, over on the other side of the human road. Soft Wing and his cousin Death Grip are watching them. But they seem to be moving to our right, away from here. If they keep on, they'll hit our woods between the pond and the place where the little road from your house comes down and joins this big one."

  "What are we sitting around here for, then?" groaned Alec. "We have to make them come this way or it's no good at all! Where's Slider?"

  "Right here." In the next ruddy flash of lightning, Alec saw the big otter, wet and gleaming, a few feet away at the edge of the pond.

  "Will the muskrats listen to you and take your orders now?"

  "Yes," answered the otter. "At least they'll take what I pass on to Clam-Eater, their boss. He's out on the pond now looking around."

  "All right," said Alec. "Get them all into the water, all the otters and muskrats. Keep them hidden the best you can on this side of the pond, the side nearest the road. And don't let them move until Scratch or I say so. Even if they see the rats swimming, they still have to wait, the way we planned. Got it?"

  "Right," said Slider. "Not a move until you signal. It's been explained once already to them, but I'll do it again. Good luck!" Without a splash, hardly with even a ripple, he turned and vanished into the black water.

  Alec blinked at the next lightning flash and tried to see how many animals were milling around his feet. The muffled roaring of the wind and all the other storm noises served to cover the mutterings, growls, and squeaks of the animals. This was all to their advantage. But the storm-laden air with its electric effect was driving the creatures wild with excitement. Despite themselves, their mind-speech was all over Alec's brain, making it even harder to think straight.

  "Has anyone seen Mowheen—the old bear, I mean?" said Alec to Scratch. An instant hush was the answer. All the animals stopped moving and it was only the roaring wind overhead which answered the boy. He stood waiting.

  "No," said Wandertail. He sat at the head of a small group of fellow woodrats near the water. "No news has come in about him at all. And the squirrels never showed up, either."

  Alec sighed and tried not to show his concern, but it was hard. He had counted on Mowheen.

  "Well, come on, the rest of you," the boy said. "We've got to turn the rats and make them come this way. We'll have to cross the road and fight in the woods on the other side. Scratch, you lead the way. Worthless, you stay with me. Let's go."

  Led by the boy, the raccoon, and the big cat, the massed defenders of The Lot plunged off the point of land and headed through the brush and trees around the eastern arm of the U-shaped pond, angling toward the road to Mill Run. It was hard going for Alec, because a thicket of thorny bushes and tall reeds grew amid the trees at the edge of the wood. The boy scraped his knees and tore his jacket in several places as he pressed through the mud and tangled roots, pushing the bushes aside with his shovel. Through the darkness and wind-tossed branches he battered his way, all the beasts following behind as closely as they could.

  Just when Alec felt the bushes were never going to stop, he broke out of them and realized from the rise in ground that he was at the foot of the sloping shoulder leading up to the road.

  "Come on!" he shouted, not realizing he was speaking aloud,
and started climbing the slope. Over to the left, Scratch humped along, his striped tail a banner for Alec in the lightning's glow.

  Just as they reached the top of the rise, a terrific crack of thunder almost deafened the boy. The rain, he guessed could only be minutes, or even seconds, away now. The lightning was almost blinding.

  He stopped and took a deep breath, shaking his ringing head to clear it. There, right before them, lay the black asphalt road. Somewhere across it and to the right were the oncoming rats, and they had to be turned and headed back this way at once! Alec almost ran off down the road by himself, but realized that if he did he would get too involved to be able to give any sensible orders. By a great effort, he quieted his breathing and tried to think.

  The animals had spread out all along the edge of the road and there they crouched waiting, their eyes gleaming when the lightning revealed them, their thoughts now stilled, except for formless waves of excitement. It was Whisperfoot, whom he had totally forgotten, but who still clung to his shoulder, who rescued him from his confusion.

  "You were to send Scratch and his raccoons and the red foxes down the road beyond the rat army. They can run the fastest of all of us. They must go into the woods and attack the rats on the far side, the side away from us."

  It was Alec's own plan and he had forgotten it himself! He gave the order, and then added, "The rest of us will stay here, right across the road in the woods. Stuffer and the woodchucks and Stamper and his gang of skunks stay in front. When the rats get opposite the pond, we'll jump them from our side, and leave the middle part open."

  A mixed pack of raccoons and red foxes scurried off down the road, the speedier foxes quickly pulling away in a group. All of them, including Scratch, vanished from sight in an instant.

  "Stamper, Stuffer, where are you?" Alec sent out. "Follow me into the woods across the road with the other skunks and woodchucks, then spread out in a line, not too far apart, and wait till I signal. The woodrats stay with me, too!"

  The woodchucks, skunks and woodrats, all in one body, instantly flowed over the road. But looking down, Alec saw that one skunk was still waiting at his feet. It was Stamper, plucking at the boy's leg with his paw.