by Michael Tod
When the boats had taken most of the humans back to the Mainland, Marguerite, Tansy and Tamarisk explored the area around the church. They marvelled at how it had been cleaned up and how the overgrowth that they remembered had been cut away and burned.
Marguerite discovered that the humans had just planted a tree near the church. She examined its shape and the way the young branches stood out from the stem and even tasted the bark carefully, but could not identify it.
If the humans are planting trees, perhaps they are beginning to use their ‘large-brains’ again, she thought, then raced across the grass to join the others who were returning to Beech Valley to celebrate their all being together again and to start rebuilding their dreys.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
In the summer that followed there were so many things for the squirrels to do. There were Guardianships to be allocated and established, and life-mates to be chosen by the yearlings. Soon the trees were alive with courting rituals and mating chases. Tails were high all over Ourland.
There was speculation as to whether Just Poplar would propose a life-mating between himself and Marguerite. It seemed to many to be a natural outcome, but she was withdrawn and preoccupied. Perhaps she was missing the comfort of Juniper’s presence or was concerned about Rowan, Meadowsweet and the ex-zervantz with their huge task of educating the Second Wave of Greys on the Mainland.
Then at the Longest Day Celebrations Just Poplar surprised them all by announcing that Rusty the Kind, or Rush as she now preferred to be called, had consented to be his life-mate, and she joined him in the Council Leader’s drey in the tree above the pond in Beech Valley. Chipling was delighted.
Tansy Stout Heart and Tamarisk Great Leap became life-mates as expected, and took a Guardianship near the church. Tansy loved to watch the humans and listen to their singing whenever they celebrated a Sun-day, which seemed to be once every week. Her journey to the Mainland might not have been successful in bringing the Woodstock back, but it had resulted in her finding a truly appreciative life-mate and she knew that soon she would have a family of dreylings to tell her story to.
Chipling, though fully grown, attached himself to Marguerite and became her willing pupil. He did not appear to be interested in any of the yearling females now that Tansy was unobtainable.
Marguerite was pleased to have a listener. It was Clover, the established Tagger of Ourland, who taught Kernels, Traditions and Manners to the youngsters, and yet Marguerite was an elected Tagger as well. The squirrels of Alder’s party were pressing for her to act as the official Tagger – at least for them.
Sensing that a dispute might develop which could spoil the new peace of Ourland, Marguerite and Clover, calling on the wisdom of an ancient Kernel, decided to get the squirrels to resolve it by Tail Pairing.
Big disagreements
Are only settled safely
By a Tail Pairing.
Marguerite, who knew from the traditions how a Tail Pairing worked, thought that she had an easier way to arrive at a result. Instead of matching a ‘yes’ squirrel with a ‘no’ squirrel and seeing which side those left over represented, she proposed a Tail Poll as she and Chip could both count above eight.
She was concerned to see how much the issue of who was to be Tagger divided the squirrels.
The two ex-princesses, now jointly tagged the Carers were vociferous in their support for their teacher, Clover. Voxglove, knowing that Alder would back Marguerite, put it around that he should not have a vote as he had no tail to signal his preference.
Clover and Marguerite joined forces to squash that suggestion. ‘It is the brain which votes; the tail is only used as a signal,’ Clover told Voxglove sternly. ‘Alder has other ways of making his intentions clear.’
Chipling, being the only other squirrel besides Marguerite who knew numbers above eight, was very proud to be appointed to count the votes.
Excited squirrels gathered in the Council Tree on Poll-day. Just Poplar took charge. Fortunately there had been no conflict between him and Alder for the Leader's position; Alder was a recent incomer and had no desire to take on the responsibility. Mentally exhausted from the trauma of leading his party to safety through the early part of the year, he was glad to be able to live a quiet life on this lovely island with Dandelion.
‘Squirrels who wish Clover to be Tagger, move to the south-side branches and raise your tails,’ Just Poplar directed. ‘Those who wish Marguerite to be Tagger, move to the north-side branches and do the same.’ Just Poplar moved to the south.
Chipling, very positively on the north side, started the count, mumbling the words to himself. Marguerite had already counted quietly to herself and knew that they were evenly divided. It was going to have to be settled by a drawing of twigs!
Chipling finished his count and a thought crossed his mind. He could ensure that Marguerite would be elected and no one but Marguerite would know. He glanced at her. She read his thoughts and shook her head.
He was about to declare ‘Equal Acorns’ when old Oak slumped across the branch where Burdock had passed to the Sun a year before and, losing his grip, fell to the ground below.
The squirrels scrambled down to find that the fine old squirrel, Oak the Cautious, was truly Sun-gone. Later that day they buried him beneath the Council Tree near his friend Burdock.
Sun, take this squirrel
Into the peace of your earth
To nourish a tree.
The count was never declared. Marguerite, sad at losing her beloved father and recognising defeat without his vote, ‘climbed down’ and wandered the island seeking a role for herself. Clover, seeing her thus, offered to share the Tagger’s position with her.
‘Thank you, Clover-Friend, but it wouldn’t work. A True Tagger must accept total responsibility for the tags she gives. It can’t be shared. I feel the Sun has another task in mind for me.’
The two friends brushed whiskers and hugged one another.
Chipling, tired after helping with the collection, burying and storing of the Autumn Harvest, found Marguerite one evening on the beach as the tide was going out. She was making patterns in the sand with her claws.
‘Look at this,’ she said, pointing to where she had scratched a symbol in the sand.
‘What is it? he asked.
‘It’s an . A is for Acorn!’
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About the author:
Novelist, poet and philosopher Michael Tod was born in Dorset in 1937. He lived near Weymouth until his family moved to a hill farm in Wales when he was eleven. His childhood experiences on the Dorset coast and in the Welsh mountains gave him a deep love and a knowledge of wild creatures and wild places, which is reflected in his poetry and novels.
Married with three children and three grandchildren, he still lives, works and walks in his beloved Welsh hills but visits Dorset whenever he can.
Michael Tod’s latest non-fiction book 'The Ferryboat - Finding a Credible God' is due for publication in early 2011.
Visit michaeltod.co.uk where you can find out more about Michael Tod, his background, his books and his poetry.