The Great Fire Dogs

by Megan Rix

  He checked behind him once again before finally slowing to a walk.

  ‘You’re going to make me very rich, you are!’ he said.

  Tiger Lily was frantically wriggling inside the sack, desperate to escape, but the man just laughed and tightened his hold on it.

  He turned into Poultry Lane, known for all the ducks, chickens and geese that were bought and sold there, and lifted the latch of a dark, noisy house.

  Tiger Lily smelt the scent of chickens and heard them all squawking as the man carried her inside.

  ‘Stop that racket!’ he growled at the birds but it only made them squawk louder.

  The man lifted the top of an empty wooden chicken cage, undid the sack and tipped Tiger Lily in. He was so quick that Tiger Lily didn’t have time to react before she fell into the cage with a thump.

  There was barely enough room for Tiger Lily to move inside the cage and she barked and growled at the man, then started to bite at the bars with her teeth.

  ‘None of that now,’ the man said, and he threw some of the chickens’ drinking water at her.

  The shock of it made her stop biting the bars, and it also reminded the man that he was very thirsty after running around the city. But he didn’t want water – he wanted ale and went out to buy some.

  Tiger Lily was left in the room with about thirty chickens. It was dingy, dark and smelly. Now the man had gone the chickens didn’t squawk any more but clucked as they stared at the new arrival with their sharp eyes.

  Tiger Lily looked closely at the cage. The bars were made of wood and she had chewed through twigs before. She started gnawing at the bars. It wasn’t easy because the cage was so small and there wasn’t much room for manoeuvre. Eventually she managed to bite through one bar but she still wasn’t free.

  The chickens barely made a sound as they watched her.

  As she bit through a second bar the chickens started squawking again and this time their squawks were much more desperate.

  Tiger Lily sniffed the air. She could smell the fire. It was getting closer, much closer. She could hear the crackle of flames as the houses further along Poultry Lane caught light.

  There wasn’t enough time to bite through all the bars. Tiger Lily looked up at the top of the cage into which she’d been dropped. She pushed against the lid with her head and it moved. She pushed again and it moved some more. One final push and the lid flipped open and Tiger Lily scrambled out and was free.

  The chickens had seen what she’d done to get out of the cage and they did the same and soon all the chickens, as well as Tiger Lily, were free of their cages and milling around the room.

  The fire was now very, very close, so close that the walls started to blacken. Desperately Tiger Lily pushed at the door with her nose. It had worked at the palace if a door wasn’t quite closed but this one was.

  The smoke was getting thicker and the room was very hot. Tiger Lily barked and scratched at the door, gasping for air.

  Suddenly it swung open.

  ‘Can’t lose my reward,’ the man said. His jaw dropped when he saw all the freed chickens, and they squawked and pecked and flapped around him.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he shouted as Tiger Lily ran past him into the burning street and the chickens ran out after her. She raced towards the river, knowing that she had to get back to the palace. The chickens soon fell behind and she was running alone, running for her life, towards the boats, furniture and people that filled the River Thames.

  The wind blew great flakes of flame up into the sky and one of them landed on Woofer, singeing his fur and making him cry out in pain.

  He’d been looking for Tiger Lily for such a long time. His paws were sore, he’d had no sleep and barely anything to eat.

  But Woofer wouldn’t give up and he searched on and on for his friend, returning to the riverside every now and again to get away from the flames.

  At first when he saw the spaniel far in the distance along the riverbank he couldn’t quite believe that he’d actually found her. As he got closer there was no doubt and he gave a deep bark of pure delight that was caught by the wind and spun in the other direction. He raced towards her as fast as his short legs would go.

  But Tiger Lily hadn’t heard Woofer’s bark and she was looking towards the water not the riverbank. Before he could reach her she jumped into the river and swam towards the nearest boat, despite the terrible smell that was coming from it.

  A hand grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her on board.

  Now the smell was even worse and Tiger Lily gagged and brought up the water she’d swallowed. But at least she was away from the fire and the man who’d trapped her.

  ‘Don’t get many stowaways on dungboats,’ the man said as Tiger Lily shook herself dry, and the boat carried on down the river with the manure that was used on the fields to help the crops grow. Fire or not, there was always manure to be spread.

  On the riverbank Woofer barked and barked as his friend sailed further and further away.

  Tiger Lily hadn’t heard him and now she and the smelly boat were almost gone. Woofer whined and looked at the deep dark river full of boats, big and small, all of them overflowing with people, and then back at the vessel in the distance on which Tiger Lily was drifting away.

  He hopped from one paw to the other, and stretched out a paw to the water but then put it back on the ground. He wanted to follow Tiger Lily but he didn’t want to go in the river. He’d never been out of his depth, not even in the shallow lake at St James’s Park, and this water was much deeper and dirtier than that.

  On the riverbank it was getting hotter and the wind changed direction so that the air was now filled with thick smoke. Woofer gave an involuntary whimper. His friend needed him. Woofer’s heart was racing but he closed his eyes and jumped in. The shock of the water made him open his mouth and swallow a great gulp of it.

  He’d never swum before and he panicked, sinking and then bobbing back to the surface, coughing and spluttering and kicking his legs like mad.

  The river was full of floating debris. Woofer couldn’t see Tiger Lily’s boat because his eyes were so full of water. Nor did he see the boat oar crashing down until it was too late.

  ‘Look out!’

  Woofer felt a searing pain in the back of his head just before he sank below the surface of the water.

  ‘Have you seen two dogs?’ George asked everybody rushing past him. But no one had time to stop. No one had time to care about the fate of an animal. ‘One of them belongs to the king,’ George called out. ‘There’s a reward.’ But even that wasn’t enough to halt the desperate people.

  The fire was growing stronger and spreading further with every second that passed.

  ‘George! George!’ a voice cried and when he looked round he saw Annie running towards him.

  ‘You survived!’ George shouted as he ran towards her, and the two of them threw their arms round each other and hugged. Then Annie threw her arms round Teeth and Claws too and they wagged their tails and sniffed at the biscuits in the small sack she was holding.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you.’

  ‘I thought you were … were …’ George said, and Annie knew what he was trying to say.

  ‘Well, I’m not,’ she said as she looked around. ‘Where’re Woofer and his friend?’

  George shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I’ve been searching for them everywhere.’

  ‘They were at the bakery,’ Annie said, and she told him how the two puppies had alerted her to the fire. ‘Without them I wouldn’t be alive,’ she added gravely.

  George squeezed her hand. ‘We have to find them,’ he said.

  Annie nodded and sniffed back her tears.

  ‘But they could be anywhere.’

  It seemed hopeless. Then Annie had an idea. ‘Maybe your dogs could help.’

  ‘Teeth and Claws? How?’

  ‘My dad used to give the dogs the scent of a rabbit when they went out hunting and they’d go and look fo
r it.’

  George was doubtful that Teeth and Claws could do that.

  ‘A dog’s sense of smell is much better than a person’s,’ Annie said.

  But George still shook his head. Teeth and Claws would not only have to catch the scent of Tiger Lily and Woofer in the air, they’d have to do so when the air all around them was full of smoke.

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ Annie insisted. ‘Do you have anything with the scent of Tiger Lily or Woofer on it?’

  George was about to say no, but then he started grinning because he remembered that he did have something with the scent of both dogs on it. Something that both dogs loved to play with.

  He pulled the rope toy from his pocket as Annie took two hard biscuits from her sack and gave one to each of the dogs.

  ‘Find,’ George commanded as he got the dogs to sniff at the rope toy. ‘Find!’ he repeated, and pointed away from him.

  ‘Find,’ said Annie and she pointed away too.

  ‘They won’t understand what to do,’ George said. ‘They’ve never done search-and-rescue work before.’

  But as they watched, Teeth took another sniff of the rope toy and so did Claws. The two dogs looked at each other and then they ran off.

  ‘Quick!’ said Annie and she and George raced after them.

  The smoke burnt George’s throat and he coughed and coughed, trying to catch his breath as they ran.

  ‘Here, put this round your face,’ Annie said, and she gave him her apron that she’d soaked in water. ‘It’ll help.’

  The man steering the dungboat stroked Tiger Lily with one hand as they sailed on down the river. Tiger Lily very much liked being stroked and soon even the smell of dung didn’t seem so bad as they headed on out into the countryside.

  They pulled up at a jetty and a farmer and his men arrived to collect the dung to spread on the fields. Even out here it was smoky and the flames were still visible in the distance. But dung had to be collected, fire or no fire.

  ‘That’s a fine-looking dog you have there, Peter,’ the farmer said to the dung-boat worker.

  ‘Yes, she is, and a good swimmer too. Swam right over to the boat. Nice to have a bit of company for a change. I think I’m going to keep her and we can sail up and down the Thames together. Dora would be a good name for her, don’t you think?’

  But the farmer shook his head.

  ‘You can’t keep her,’ he said. ‘Not unless you want to be in a whole heap of trouble if you get caught.’

  ‘Why not?’ Peter wanted to know.

  ‘Look at her tail. She’s a nobleman’s dog. Common folks like us have to have our dogs’ tails docked.’

  Peter looked at Dora sadly. He really wanted to keep her but it wasn’t to be.

  He was downcast as they sailed back to London but he didn’t try to stop Tiger Lily when she jumped from the boat and ran off as they landed.

  She stopped after a short distance and looked back at him, giving a wag of her tail. Peter raised his hand in farewell and then went to collect another pile of dung from the fire-ravaged city. As soon as he got his next wages he was going to buy a dog.

  CHAPTER 12

  Tuesday 4 September 1666

  ‘That’s it, you’re all right,’ said a kind voice that Woofer had never heard before. Then Woofer drifted off back to sleep.

  Around him was chaos as the fire grew ever stronger. All Cheapside’s shops were ablaze and so was Ludgate Hill and Fleet Street. The fire had leapt across the River Fleet and was heading towards the wealthier West End and the royal residences.

  The little dog heard another voice and his stub of a tail twitched in recognition. It was the voice of the king but he was too weary to lift his head from the blanket in the cart where he was lying, to see His Majesty on his horse.

  ‘Why haven’t these houses been taken down?’ the king demanded. ‘Don’t you understand that they’re in the direct line of the fire and will feed its greedy flames.’

  ‘But our homes …’ protested an old man.

  ‘Where will we live?’ asked a woman.

  ‘You’ll be recompensed,’ said the king.

  ‘How do we know?’

  ‘Because I’m your king and I’m telling you so.’

  The king urged his horse onwards through the throng of people and did not see Woofer lying in the cart among all the other carts full of people’s possessions.

  Woofer woke up again when the cart stopped at a house in Seething Lane.

  ‘We’re back, Mr Pepys,’ called the boy who’d been pushing the cart. ‘All your valuables are now safe at Bethnal Green.’

  ‘Not all of my valuables, Will,’ Mr Pepys told him. ‘There’s still my wine and cheese to be buried in the garden.’

  He looked in the cart.

  ‘Why do you now have a small dog with you?’

  ‘Couldn’t leave him behind, Mr Pepys. He nearly drowned when the boat struck him on its way back from delivering your stuff.’

  Mr Pepys sighed. ‘And I suppose I’m to feed and water every waif and stray.’

  ‘He can’t eat much,’ Will said cheekily. ‘He’s only little.’

  ‘Well, take the cart back now. It was only lent to us for the trip.’

  ‘Ah, but he’s asleep again,’ Will replied as Woofer snored. ‘Wouldn’t be right to disturb him.’

  Mr Pepys sighed. ‘I’m going to fetch the wine and cheese for burial,’ he said as he went back inside the house.

  Will left Woofer sleeping while he went to the kitchen to have some food.

  When the terrier woke again the sun was high overhead and he felt much better.

  ‘Dig deep,’ Mr Pepys told Will, who was holding a shovel, and he pointed at a spot in the garden. ‘The deeper the cheese and wine are buried, the safer they’ll be from the fire.’

  ‘Right you are, Mr Pepys.’

  Woofer sat up and watched as Will dug deep into the flower beds and then lifted the soft earth and shook it off the shovel to make a small mound.

  The little dog tilted his head to one side and wagged his tail-stub as Will did the same thing again and again.

  Finally it was too much for Woofer to resist. He jumped out of the cart and raced over to join in. For once he wasn’t in trouble as his paws scrabbled in the soil.

  ‘That’s it, dog,’ Will said. ‘Keep going. Good dog! I knew I was right to rescue you from the river.’

  Woofer’s tail-stub wagged with excitement as he dug in the dry brown mud. His face and paws and back were soon covered in soil.

  ‘What’s that dog doing?’

  ‘He’s helping, Mr Pepys,’ Will told him. ‘Helping to save your precious goods. Right good at digging he is too.’

  ‘That’s deep enough. These bottles there. Move over, dog. That hole’s deep enough for two more,’ declared Mr Pepys, who was supervising the excavation.

  Woofer looked at the hole that was now being filled in by Will. He hadn’t finished digging there yet!

  ‘What’s keeping the maid with my last block of cheese?’ Mr Pepys said, and he hurried back into the house to find out.

  ‘I’d say he deserves a bone for all his effort,’ Will said, when Mr Pepys came back.

  ‘Right.’

  When the refreshments were brought out Woofer gulped down the water and chewed on a bone while Will swallowed two cups of ale and some bread and cheese.

  ‘Reckon your goods are safe from the fire now, Mr Pepys,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ Mr Pepys agreed. ‘Thanks in part to this fine little dog.’ And he gave Woofer a pat.

  The day was almost over and Tiger Lily lay in the doorway of Old St Paul’s Church as people carried books inside for safekeeping. But even here the fire found her.

  As the church began to burn, the pages in the books burned too and Tiger Lily’s fur was covered in paper ash like snow.

  Desperate to get away from the flames, Tiger Lily set off along the street. The next moment she yelped and ran into an open doorway to escape the hot st
ones that came flying down the street towards her.

  A thin man with white hair ran into the doorway for protection too.

  Tiger Lily looked up at him and whimpered with fear.

  ‘What’s a poor wee dog like you doing out here all alone?’ the man said, crouching down beside her and giving Tiger Lily a stroke as they waited for the stones to stop flying. ‘This is no place for man or beast. Especially one who must belong to someone of importance,’ he added, noting her long tail. ‘But there’s no time to find out who that might be now.’

  ‘John? John Evelyn? What on earth are you doing out here in this? You could have been killed,’ said one of the churchwardens as he came down the street, supervising the men carrying buckets of water, fire hooks and squirts to fight the fire.

  ‘I was on my way to the hospital to check on the wounded when I was stopped by this tragedy,’ the man replied.

  Tiger Lily came out from behind him and looked up at the churchwarden.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a dog, John,’ he said, giving Tiger Lily a bit of his suppertime pie, which she wolfed down hungrily.

  ‘It’s not my dog,’ John Evelyn started to say, but the churchwarden was already striding off towards the church with the fire fighters.

  Tiger Lily’s tummy rumbled. The pie made her think of all the good things she’d had to eat at the palace and she knew where she needed to be. Tiger Lily ran back down towards the river as quickly as she could, because the river led to home.

  In Seething Lane, all the digging he’d done made Woofer think of George and he let out a sad whine because he’d never been away from George for so long before.

  He trotted out of the garden while Will was taking the cart back to the man Mr Pepys had borrowed it from.

  By the time Will got back Woofer was doggedly making his way towards the riverbank; back to George, back to the palace, his home.

  The cobblestones were hot beneath his paws and the smoke was thicker than a mist and made it difficult to see. But he was determined to get back to George now and nothing would stop him.

  Mostly he kept his head down, looking at the ground; less smoke seemed to catch in his throat that way.

  The little terrier wasn’t far from the Tower in Tower Street when he saw a dog in front of him and for a brief second it raised its long tail. Woofer’s heart quickened, as did his step. But the smoke all around stopped him from picking up a clear scent and he was too exhausted to run, and still only just recovering from the blow to his head.