Buttons and friends were hunkering down, readying themselves for the attack, angry words beginning to flow from them almost as rapidly as blood from the squirrel.
Sara rose up, spreading her wing widely, preventing Buttons and Sally from an immediate attack. She alone faced the growing number of rats gathering behind their master and king. Her eyes blazed as she began to take a deep breath. What would have happened is not known, for the rats were numerous, and they were on their land.
Ssserek moved, sliding beneath the fanning wings, to take position before the angry young dragon. “Stop. There is no time for that, your highness. Stop and think.”
The young dragon shook her head. She wanted revenge. But then, she glanced down at her friend who had collapsed to the ground. His eyes were closed and his breathing was becoming more and more shallow.
She looked at Ssserek. Of course, he was right. First things first.
And to the bewilderment of the gathering rats and to everlasting wonder of her friends, she knelt beside Iggy and slowly began to lick his wound. She had wanted rats’ blood, but it was that of her friend, Iggy, she tasted As she cleaned the wound, the flow of blood began to slow, then it became a trickle, then ceased altogether. Healing had begun, then rapidly progressed until only a scar remained.
Those behind cheered. Those in front shuttered.
Sara rose again to stand before King Rat She coughed, a small jet of smoke and flame escaping from between her soft-appearing lips. She smiled and King Rat shuddered. Her pilot light was relit, and King Rat shriveled inside. This time, she knew how to control it. King Rat shriveled more. She smiled even more broadly as she lowered her head to place her nose scant inches from that of the rat.
As she began to take a deep breath, the many rats behind vanished, leaving their king alone to take the full fury of the young dragon.
He abruptly sat down, almost reeling off-balance. He caught himself, tried to hold himself upright. But it was no use. He openly shivered, frozen as he was by the glare of the dragon’s eyes, and those of Ssserek, and particularly those of that black dog.
“After due consideration.” Anything to forestall the dragon. He took a deep breath. An evil day indeed when rats met her. Oh, but for her. And now. She! He gazed once more into the eyes of the young dragon.
“I believe you will have no difficulty finding your way back.” Sighing, he turned to leave. Then, as though it were an afterthought, he nodded to their right. “You’ll find the mustang in a well-protected bower.”
This was no afterthought. “Please leave.” He sniffed. His nose almost touching the sand, he disappeared into the shadows, which were rapidly swallowing his kith and kin. For ever after, King Rat referred to Sara only as she, or when in a really nasty mood, that creature.
Buttons and her friends found the young mustang in a nearby bower. He was hungry and had little to drink. He was weak, and though he wobbled badly, he would accept no aid.
The rats were clever, using tussocks of grass and partially submerged trees—over which the way was fraught with difficulty for the colt—and islands beneath the dark waters. Once onto the trail, the sure-footed raccoons and otters cheerfully led the way, with Biff, the bear and the young moose standing on both sides of the colt. Iggy and Sara soared overhead, accompanied by clusters of hummingbirds, and flanked by grim hawks.
Iggy was happy just to hang on, having little strength left after his ordeal. If he were more subdued than normal, he had good reason.
Ssserek and Delph followed slowly behind, not trusting the rats. Perhaps they had given in this time, but they remained evil and untrustworthy, quick to change their minds once the immediate danger had passed. Sally continued to sniff the air. There was no sign of rats, and there would be none. This time.
The small band of animals reached Dead Rat Cove by sunset. It had been a long day, and the many friends departed after seeing the young mustang returned to its mother and herd. The stallions remained skittish, but grateful, in their own way. They thanked Sally and Buttons with great courtesy, but shied from Ssserek, and stayed away from the water’s edge where Delph cruised up and down, watching the proceedings. The mustangs looked with wonder at Sara, and there were many mutterings within the herd at the marvel of it all.
Sara was quite pleased with the affair and patted Iggy on the head repeatedly, much to his chagrin and the amusement of the others. The small dragon finally approached Buttons and Ssserek after the herd had left.
She simply said, “I must be going. Lost, you know.”
Buttons and Sally and their closest friends gathered around the small dragon. The raccoon twins and the otter were openly fascinated by her magical healing of Iggy’s near-fatal wound and repeatedly begged her to tell them more. But she bashfully demurred, saying only that dragons had many gifts unknown to the present world. Biff, the bear grunted in good humor as they relived the fateful day, he and the Saint Bernard sitting on one side as Sara sidestepped the many questions.
The dragon looked to Buttons for help, and finally, Buttons had to literally push her friends away. Sara sighed deeply. “You know how scared I was, Buttons, and yet . . .” She sighed again. “I didn’t know I could do it until you showed me how. And now . . . Well, I’m lost, but I’ll never be alone again.”
Buttons had simply grinned. It had been a great day and she expressed the deep emotions of all and their love for the unique creature who had joined them, even for a short while.
“We’ll miss you Sarandra,” she said as she stood against the dragon’s shoulder, small brown eyes meeting great luminous brown eyes. Then, Buttons had whispered something in her ear before dropping back to the ground. “And, that will take care of that problem.”
What she had whispered was never revealed, but Sara’s pleased smile warmed the hearts of all who were present.
Then, to keep her overwhelming feelings under control, Buttons had winked, and said, “Ya’ll come back.”
Iggy giggled, Biff guffawed, and Sally, glancing at Ssserek, simply shook her head, as they all joined in the laughter.
Sara was about to lift her wings for flight when she noticed Iggy shuffling his feet in the sand. She wanted to say something funny like Buttons had, but she couldn’t. Never in her life had she met a creature quite like the irrepressible squirrel.
Iggy glanced up, suddenly seeing only Sara’s large and beautiful eyes contemplating him. He would have run for the nearest tree but couldn’t move. He wanted to race to her and tell how much she meant to him, what their flight together had meant, and how much . . . well, how much . . . his thoughts were in total disarray. He fidgeted and coughed, though his throat was very tight.
Sara moved forward slowly, never taking her eyes away from the small sad creature. She knelt before him, and then reached out to gently stroke his wounded shoulder. She wanted to say something, but even as intelligent and knowledgeable as she was, for one her age, she didn’t know what to say.
Buttons and Sally watched the two with growing pain, and then they moved forward as one to stand on either side of Sara.
Buttons spoke clearly and crisply. “What she wants of you, you twit, is to take care of your wound. No fights with the raccoon twins for a while, no racing helter-skelter around trees where you don’t belong. OK?”
At her no-nonsense words, Sara smiled, the pained look rapidly disappearing. “Exactly. No nonsense, Iggy. Do take care of yourself, or I’ll never come back. Promise.” Her heart was about to burst, but she stepped back, and assumed her most haughty stance. “You do understand? Right?”
Iggy grinned sheepishly, and then his unusual restraint vanished. He rushed forward and grasped the surprised and pleased dragon. Raising himself to his highest, he said, “I understand. Truly, I do. And, you will be back. I know.” Only by holding tightly to the dragon could the small squirrel contain his shaking. Then, with one last gasp, he said, “I’ll miss you Sara. Please hurry back.”
Sara nodded, and then to the complete surprise
of everyone there, she reached down, picked him up, and kissed him. She could only say “Bye” as she lifted her wings. Nodding with pleasure and love, she launched herself into the night sky.
Iggy looked at the dirt in front of him. It would never be the same again for him. He had flown, he had soared with the hawks and hummingbirds, and for a while, even a butterfly would be envied.
Buttons and her friends sat, clustered around Ssserek and Biff, the hawks perched on nearby limbs, and with the frog and gator circling in front, they watched the small dragon disappear into the darkness, small gouts of flame lighting her way.
Sally sighed, “I wonder if she’ll be able to keep her pilot light going.”
“Oh sure,” Iggy piped in, “I told her everything she needed to know. No problem. Really.” He had looked at them all, grinning mischievously. “Told her everything I knew.”
Biff groaned. “She’ll be back sure as shootin’.”
Buttons had laughed with Ssserek and Delph put paid to the day with a great resounding slap of his tail on the water as he and Milo, the moose had joined in.
Thus ended the visit of Princess Vintrix, Sarandra, Guardian of the High Reaches, and friend to the smallest and proudest little ground squirrel who would lay awake many a night wondering what sky she was crossing.
The End
The Raven of Elderwood
Even his own kind, the ravens shunned him. But in Elderwood, his cunning and cruel nature were envied. Here, in a distant and dark corner of the Great Swamp, the rats of Elderwood had found someone they could appreciate and admire. His promise of vengeance and blood had fired their imaginations. As he hobbled about on a crooked leg now badly healed from an old injury, a small black dog had almost caught him on the ground feasting on a recent kill. They would circle him as he spoke, their red eyes bright with hidden thoughts of blood and feasting. They could snicker at his injuries in their own dens, but never in his presence. They could take joy in his broken wing which he now used as a poor substitute for a crutch, but never look at it directly, for he was fast with his hard beak, and he used it often. They listened closely for his mind was keen, and like the rats, crowded with evil thoughts which he loved to repeat as he moved restlessly along the shore of the swamp, gazing long and evilly into the distance where he knew the Great Forest lay.
Late into the nights, he and the rat leader would sit at the shoreline plotting just how they would gain surcease from the gnawing hatred which twisted their guts endlessly. They could only express their loathing in short evil words, spitting them out like bullets. On and on they would go, each taking turns repeating their hatred and how they would give anything to have her once again in their hands.
But how? How could they lure her to Elderwood where they could rip and tear her? What would bring the small black dog? Without her many friends. Yes. That was always the flaw in their evil plans. They could not wreak havoc upon her small black body in the presence of the alligator, or that horrible Ssserek, he the largest of rattlesnakes, swift and deadly even when badly outnumbered. Yes, and there were others, like the bear or the moose. She must be lured here without them.
Day and night, the raven crutched along the shore on one wing, the other weaving circles in the air. Gaunt from hunger because Elderwood provided little sustenance, even for the rats who would eat anything, but filled with hatred, the raven moved restlessly, twisting his head from side to side, seeking something he could not see, peering into each black hole, each bramble bush. He groped with his hard beak each nook and cranny along the twisted and torn trunks of the many trees so badly damaged in the great tornado. Each day, he would go through the same routine, his body seeking what his mind could not find.
Then, one day, it finally happened. A scrawny blackbird appeared in the distant skies making his way to Elderwood to report. What power the raven had over the blackbird was not known, only that the blackbird would report each day what was occurring in the Great Forest and Field.
The blackbird was small for one of his kind, normally only slightly smaller than the raven himself. He had little of the intelligence of his kind and was always seeking favors from larger and wiser birds. None listened to his begging requests. He was widely known to be craven, a cowardly nodding little thief who lived alone in the forest. When seen, it was usually by squirrels and birds who noted his presence at the edge of several other creatures quietly speaking among themselves. Then, he would be sat upon and chased away. There seemed to be little danger in him, but nonetheless, no one trusted him. Too often an egg or other food would be stolen in the night. Watchfulness was the word when he was around.
He flew directly toward the raven who waited impatiently at the shore. Landing several feet from the raven, the small blackbird nodded repeatedly, hopping toward the raven cautiously, carefully taking note of the raven’s temper.
His nose almost in the sand, the blackbird looked respectfully up at the raven. The blackbird had to twist his head so that he could view the raven with one eye. In turn, the raven had to twist his head to see well with his left eye for the right was partially opaque, and therefore, he was almost blind on that side. Anyone approaching from the right unexpectedly could expect an explosion of abuse, both verbal and physical.
He coughed carefully, before saying anything but “Good day, your greatness, good day.”
The raven sneered at the small bird who crouched before him. He despised the small creature, knowing him for the cowardly sneak that he was, but carefully refrained from making his thoughts too obvious. He needed to know what transpired within the forest, and only this creature could tell him.
When spoken, his words were soft as his beak was hard. “Well, my small one, what passes today in the forest? You have news, perhaps?”
The raven nodded slowly, giving the little sneak time to build his courage.
“Sir, sir,” said the blackbird. He then went on to describe in the most minute details the goings and comings of the many creatures in the forest.
The raven was fast becoming impatient for the news was the same. As yesterday, and the day before, and before that. The raven was suddenly jolted out of his reverie.
The small blackbird had continued to rattle off his many observations without a pause. “And the two are about . . .”
The raven cried aloud. “Caw, caw, caw,” he shouted to the sky, to the trees, and best of all, to King Rat who appeared rapidly at the obvious excitement of the raven. “Come, come my friends. I have it. I have it.”
Other rats peered out of the darkness of fallen trees. What could make the raven so excited? Others slowly crept onto the sand. They looked about, seeking any potential danger. There were none. Their eyes glittered as they looked at one another. This would mean no good for someone. Red eyes gleamed even brightly at the evil thought.
King Rat was old and almost hairless. His whiskers had never fully recovered from his encounter with the little dragon. He often saw her in his dreams. They were never good dreams. He tolerated the raven because they were so similar in their thoughts and in their hatred for the little black dog. The rat would tolerate anything if it meant an opportunity to even the score. He moved slowly toward the raven who was leaping awkwardly about in his frenzy of cawing. Never had the rat heard the raven so excited.
As the two evil creatures met on the shore, the raven whirled around and around until it seemed he must fall. He leaped toward King Rat.
“I have it. I have it. I know how we can get the little dog here without the great snake or alligator knowing.”
King Rat bared his fangs, saliva dripping from his mouth in his rising excitement. He rose to a sitting position, more than matching the large raven in height.
The two stared fixedly at one another. Each knew the other’s thoughts, the evil intent. The raven dropped his head, turning it so that he looked up at the large rat, much as the small blackbird reported.
Holding his head in that position, the raven hopped around and around the rat. Hop, hop, then
several mincing small steps. Hop, he moved, sidling around and around.
“Hee, hee, hee. I’ll have her here. With your aid, my fine rat of rats. Yes, together, we’ll have her.”
He stopped abruptly, turning toward the small blackbird who had slowly moved closer to better hear. “Report their whereabouts tomorrow. Now, go. Do as you’re told.”
The small blackbird tumbled backwards in his anxiety to be out of reach of the raven and rushed into the sky as the raven’s beak narrowly missed a fluttering wing tip.
King Rat in turn glared at the nearest of minions, all of whom rushed back into the safety of the trees.
It took time, but finally their scheme was agreed on, and then they swiftly put into place each of the components. Only then did the two cease their restless movement up and down the shore as they reviewed each step which would bring about the capture of Buttons who was, at that moment, moving slowly through the Great Field.
Sally, the beagle was at her side as they moved toward their respective homes. Evening was approaching, and it had been a fun day. With Iggy, they had gone to the River Running to watch the otters play. Only they, of the many creatures of forest and field, had the freedom to approach and enter the village along the river where the dens of otters were to be found.
It was always the same. A tumultuous welcome and then playtime. First, with the youngest who rapidly lost interest or tired easily. Then, with Dodger, the otter, they would head for the slides and a good swim in the river.
Buttons would place herself at one side to better view the fun because she never swam unless Delph, the alligator was present. He wasn’t present today, much to the relief of the otters. While they greatly appreciated his abilities in the water, they were more than wary of his great mouth and his endless appetite.
Finally, even the otters were exhausted from all of the fun. Buttons’s ribs ached from all of the laughter and the delight of watching Iggy trying to ride on the back of Dodger. For all of his agility in the water, Dodger kept sliding from beneath Iggy who would fall with great vigor and much splashing into the water. His pretense at drowning was hilarious, and finally one of the younger otters would porpoise out and then beneath the floundering ground squirrel. Together, they would tear across the river to deliver the laughing and a very wet Iggy to Buttons who would then be thoroughly doused with water as Iggy shook himself.
The Adventures of Button Page 16