by Alex Milway
‘They’ll chew your ears off if you take your eyes off them for even one second!’ said Mr Pernicky.
‘Oh, stop it. They absolutely wouldn’t hurt a fly,’ said Nan.
One of the beavers suddenly realised they were being watched. She slammed her tail against the ground and dived into the water. The other didn’t seem quite so bothered. She stopped chewing and peered out across the river.
‘Who’s that then?’ she said with a wave of her paw.
Grandma Nan marched over to the riverside. ‘Afternoon!’ she said. ‘You’re new here?’
‘That’s right,’ said the creature. ‘Elsie Beaver. And that one’s Iris.’
‘So, what brings you to Big Sky Mountain?’ asked Nan.
Elsie pulled out a document from within her fur and held it aloft.
‘We’ve been relocated,’ she said.
‘Fascinating,’ said Nan. ‘What for?’
‘Official rewilding purposes,’ said Elsie. ‘This here paper is the document saying exactly so.’
‘I see,’ said Nan.
Rosa looked at the sheet of paper, which consisted of a map and some building plans. Whatever the beavers were up to looked incredibly grand, she thought.
‘You didn’t waste any time getting started,’ said Rosa.
The beaver revealed that the piece of wood she was chewing was actually a big signpost saying BEAVER TOWN. She’d dug out the letters with her teeth.
‘Because there’s so much to get done!’ said Elsie. She skipped about the riverbank pointing at things that weren’t there. ‘Where are the reeds? The willows? The dragonflies?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Rosa.
‘Exactly!’ she said. ‘They should be in the shallows at the water’s edge, but there aren’t any shallows because of these steep riverbanks.’
Elsie stretched down and dipped her paw into the river. She held it there for effect, as the water drove forcefully against it.
‘You know why they’re so steep?’ she asked.
Rosa shrugged.
‘Because the water runs too fast,’ said Elsie. ‘And when it runs too fast, the river cuts deeper, down and down into the earth, and the riverbanks grow up and up.’
‘I see,’ said Rosa. ‘But why’s that a problem?’
‘Oh, don’t get me started!’ said Elsie. ‘Where are the young fish and baby waterbirds supposed to grow up?!’
‘I don’t know,’ said Rosa.
‘I can tell you they won’t survive a minute in there. They’ll be flushed out to sea,’ said Elsie.
‘That’s awful,’ said Rosa.
‘And that’s not mentioning all the flooding after winter or storms. The river swells, grows even faster and destroys everything in its path – until it dumps all its water on the lowlands. Such a waste, when we need it here.’
‘We do?’ said Rosa.
‘Absolutely,’ said Elsie. ‘We need to slow down the water and free it from the river. If we spread it out, it can feed all this forest. Plants will soon come back, I promise. As will the baby fish!’
‘I didn’t know how important your jobs were,’ said Rosa.
‘No one does,’ said Elsie. ‘So you can see we have our work cut out.’
By now Mr Pernicky was almost turning purple. ‘You make me want to scream!’ he said. ‘This river is perfect. And this is not Beaver Town. This is Pernicky Town!’
The river water darkened, and Iris, the second beaver, popped her head out of the water, raising an armful of thin branches.
‘Afternoon,’ said Iris, before vanishing again underwater.
‘And what’s she doing down there?’ asked Mr Pernicky.
‘Building,’ said Elsie.
Mr Pernicky’s eyes started to spin. ‘I need a sit down,’ he said, before promptly fainting.
Rosa hurried to him and held him on his side while he came round. His eyes blinked slowly.
‘Beavers . . .’ he muttered in a daze. ‘Everywhere . . .’
‘I think we ought to get him home,’ said Rosa.
‘I think you’re right,’ said Grandma Nan.
8
This . . . Is . . . War!
Rosa and Grandma Nan took one paw each and helped Mr Pernicky to his home at the riverside. The hare lived in a wooden shack, although to describe it as such was a great disservice: at least three times taller than Grandma Nan’s cabin, his home dominated the forest like a wooden mansion within landscaped grounds. Two perfectly square towers sprouted from its walls, and a windmill stood tall on the roof, spinning gently in the breeze above the tree canopy.
Mr Pernicky was evidently a master craftsman, excellent with joints and joists, who also loved to grow things and tend his garden. There were little boxes under the cabin’s windows, all stuffed with brightly coloured plants and heather, and surrounding it were very well-kept vegetable patches full of carrots.
The smell of his home helped Mr Pernicky feel more normal. He unlatched the door and they went inside. It was a small opening for such a grand place, but Rosa could just about fit inside without ducking. Nan stooped low, stepped in and closed the door behind her.
Grandma Nan knew Mr Pernicky had recovered fully when he started grumping again.
‘Those creatures have no right to be here,’ he grumbled. ‘This . . . is . . . war.’
‘Doesn’t everyone have a right to live here?’ said Rosa. ‘I thought this place belonged to everyone?’
‘But there is the whole mountain!’ he said. ‘There are hundreds and hundreds of miles of nothingness out there.Why do they need to live on my river?’
‘They are water creatures,’ said Nan.
‘And it’s my water,’ grumbled Mr Pernicky, ‘so I’m going to get rid of them, no matter what it takes!’
The walls of Mr Pernicky’s home were covered with tools and bookshelves full of building plans. He took a long wooden ruler from the wall, rushed over to a drawer and pulled out a notebook.
‘What are you up to now?’ asked Nan.
‘Making plans,’ said Mr Pernicky, and he turned his back on them and sat down to scrawl some notes. ‘You should probably leave!’
Grandma Nan shrugged. ‘If that’s how you want it to be,’ she said with frustration.
Rosa and Nan walked back towards the beavers. Even in that short time their lodge had grown bigger and was now standing proud of the water. The building work continued as they watched, with Elsie and Iris chewing and shaping branches to fit their plans.
‘This isn’t going to end well,’ said Nan.
‘I’ve never seen anyone work so hard,’ said Rosa.
‘They are definitely busy,’ said Nan.
At that moment a flock of crows flew overhead, squawking and chattering. Rosa heard mentions of the beavers, and of their roosts being lost.
‘Looks like Mr Pernicky isn’t the only one who isn’t happy,’ said Rosa.
‘Newcomers to the mountain always make a difference, Rosa,’ said Nan. ‘It just takes time for things to settle, for everyone to find their place.’
‘But Mr Pernicky doesn’t seem very understanding,’ said Rosa. ‘Maybe he could try talking to the beavers?’
‘He’s just struggling with change,’ said Nan. ‘Sometimes people forget that life never stays still for long. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to come and stay with me.’
Rosa fell quiet. Did she not like having her about?
‘Anyway,’ said Nan, walking on, ‘more importantly, the daylight is fading. We won’t be making it home tonight.’
Rosa didn’t take the news well.
‘What about the wolves?’ she asked.
‘They don’t like humans,’ said Nan. ‘I doubt they’ll come anywhere near us – I promise – especially if we keep our fire lit.’
‘Are you totally sure?’ asked Rosa. ‘Absolutely, totally, one hundred per cent certain?’
‘Hey, when was the last time you saw the stars?’ asked Nan, who was very good at changing s
ubjects when things got tricky to explain.
‘Just the other week,’ said Rosa. ‘Back in the city.’
‘No, no, no!’ laughed Nan. ‘When was the last time you really saw the stars out in the open? Where the sky is filled with the glowing star clouds of the Milky Way?’
‘Oh. Well, I’ve never seen that,’ admitted Rosa.
Grandma Nan smiled and put her arm round Rosa. ‘Then tonight you have a real treat in store,’ she said. ‘There is nowhere better to see stars than Big Sky Mountain!’
9
Under the Stars
Once they’d found the perfect spot near the river, they set about making camp. With Rosa’s help, Nan built a shelter from branches and string, with a thin waterproof sheet stretched tight over its top.
‘There we are!’ said Nan, slapping the sheet like a drum. It made a pleasing ‘doink’ noise. ‘That’ll keep us dry if it rains.’
Rosa hadn’t slept outdoors before, but even in the pure darkness of the night-time forest, it felt safe enough.
‘Won’t we get cold?’ she asked.
‘Don’t you worry about that,’ said Nan. ‘We’ll get a little fire going and all will be well.’
Nan placed down her torch with the beam still on and set to making a fire. Nan was an old hand at the life outdoors, and always carried a little tin full of everything that she needed to start a fire. With a few well-placed twigs and a handful of crisp, dry tinder, Nan only needed a spark to set it going. The first few flames took hold instantly.
‘Wow,’ said Rosa. ‘That was like magic.’
‘Oh, it’s easy, my girl,’ said Nan. ‘If you’re careful and prepare it all properly, that is. I’ll teach you. Don’t you worry.’
Rosa felt so excited, and, despite what Nan said, it really was magic. Fire sprites danced up into the sky, skittishly moving through the treetops, and the fire’s burning heart shimmered blue then golden yellow like a dragon’s flame.
Wrapped up in blankets, Rosa and Nan nestled down to enjoy the evening, feeling safe and warm. Lone songs of night birds and the shouts of grumpy owls coloured the air, and every now and then moths and midges fluttered and buzzed nearby, passing judgement on some matter or other.
And as for the stars, Nan was right. The sky looked unlike anything Rosa had ever experienced. Huge clusters of shimmering blue and pink stars formed a rippling backbone across the heavens.
‘Why don’t we have them like this in the city?’ asked Rosa.
‘Because of the street lights polluting the skies,’ said Nan. ‘But without the lamps I guess you’d always be tripping over someone or other.’
‘Hmm,’ agreed Rosa, lying back. The stars filled her with a peculiar sense of calm.
Seeing them made everything feel all right.
‘You take the first sleep,’ said Nan. ‘I’ll wake you in a few hours and then you can keep watch, all right?’
All of Rosa’s fears slipped away, as the crackling fire and ripples of the river lulled her into a deep sleep. When Nan eventually woke her the fire was still burning – a little lower than before – but there was an odd knocking noise echoing through the forest.
‘What’s that?’ asked Rosa with a yawn.
‘Someone’s busy building,’ said Nan.
‘The beavers?’ said Rosa. ‘Still?’
‘I didn’t see them with tools,’ said Nan wisely. ‘No, I think this is Mr Pernicky up to something.’
She crawled back under her blanket and left Rosa to keep watch.
‘Just a few hours,’ muttered Nan.
‘Yes,’ said Rosa.
But Rosa found it increasingly hard to stay awake, and before she knew it, her eyes were closing once again.
10
Beaver Battles
Rosa sat bolt upright. The campfire was out and the sky was glowing a rich turquoise blue with the onset of day. The patch of ground around her looked different to the previous night, and it took a few moments for her to register why.
‘NAN!’ shouted Rosa. ‘Wake up!’
The river had swollen overnight, and water was lapping just a few metres from her feet. She was close to getting drenched.
‘Whut . . .?’ said Nan. She sat up, her hair decorated with pine needles and twigs. She rubbed her eyes.
‘The water, Nan!’ said Rosa. ‘It’s almost on us! I fell asleep; I’m so sorry.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Nan. ‘But water? Here?’
She found her glasses and was suddenly able to see what had happened for herself.
‘Well, blow my trumpet,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘It’s them beavers! They don’t half work hard.’
‘The beavers did this?’ said Rosa, quite amazed at what they were capable of. ‘Elsie said she had plans, but . . .’
‘They definitely work fast!’ said Nan. ‘I hadn’t imagined they’d finish their dams overnight.’
Grandma Nan paused, realising the downside to the beavers’ actions.
‘We best go and see Mr Pernicky,’ she said with a grumble. ‘He’s not going to like this, is he?’
They hurriedly rolled up their blankets, dismantled their shelter and packed it all away. Mr Pernicky’s house was now sitting slap bang in the middle of a pond, with half its door submerged.
‘Oh no,’ said Rosa.
‘Just as I feared,’ said Nan.
A huge cry rang out from the cabin.
‘WHHAAAAAAAAAAT!?!’ screamed Mr Pernicky.
Grandma Nan waded into the pond and tried to open the cabin door.
‘It’s only me,’ she said. ‘Let me help you.’
‘It’s ruined!’ he cried. ‘They’ve turned my home into a fish tank!’
The door opened, and a furious Mr Pernicky appeared. His face was berry red in anger.
‘I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS,’ he snarled.
He pushed past Nan and hopped off into the forest.
‘What’s he up to?’ asked Rosa.
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ said Nan. ‘Come on. Let’s see what the beavers have to say for themselves.’
The beavers had clearly not stopped working through the night either. Their lodge was now a mound of branches, twigs and mud in the middle of the river. Elsie was in the process of building a house on its top, weaving together walls of willow saplings and reeds.
‘Is that Iris?’ called Nan from a distance. The beavers were so alike it was impossible to tell, even close up. Nan had no idea where the river’s edge was any more, so she dared not step any closer.
‘It’s Elsie,’ said the beaver.
‘Ah, sorry, my eyesight’s not what it was,’ said Nan.
‘Happens all the time!’ said Elsie.
‘Have you seen what’s happened to Mr Pernicky’s cabin?’ asked Rosa. ‘You’ve flooded his home.’
‘Oh my days!’ said Elsie. Her tail slapped against the water, and Iris’s head popped up from among a cluster of floating branches. ‘We’ve only gone and flooded that hare’s house!’ said Elsie.
‘You’re kidding?!’ said Iris, climbing out of the water.
‘It’s up to his waist,’ said Rosa.
‘Now we’ll be even less popular,’ said Iris. She scratched her damp fur. ‘Is it bad?’
‘Very,’ said Nan. Suddenly they all heard a loud ‘TWANG!’ and a volley of mud bombs flew over their heads and splashed into the water.
‘I’ll show you flea-bitten furballs!’ shouted Mr Pernicky.
‘He’s built a catapult!’ said Rosa.
‘So that was what all the banging was about,’ said Nan.
The hare started rearming the rough and ready weapon for a second round.
‘Wait, Mr Pernicky!’ shouted Grandma Nan.
Another mud bomb flew past her ear and smashed into the beavers’ building site.
‘We’re under attack,’ said Iris.
‘I am not putting up with this!’ announced Elsie. She threw down the branch that was in her paws.
‘
Now, stop right there, you two!’ said Grandma Nan. ‘We can sort this out like civilised creatures.’
‘That hare is anything but civilised,’ said Iris. ‘Come on!’
The two beavers slipped into the river and vanished, as another mud bomb rocketed out of the woods and smashed into the beavers’ lodge. Nan was splattered from head to toe with twigs and dirt.
‘Nan!’ cried Rosa. ‘Get away from there! Head for cover!’
11
The Splatter Matter
Rosa and Nan huddled beside a tree as mud bombs splattered left, right and centre.
‘We’ve got to stop him!’ said Rosa. ‘He might hurt someone.’
‘I’m not sure I know how to stop a hare in a rage,’ said Nan. ‘It’s normally best to let him calm down.’
‘But he’ll destroy everything!’ said Rosa.
There was a twang, and more mud bombs hurtled into the air. Rosa and Nan looked to the skies. The heavy mud balls seemed to hang in the air, then exploded into the tree trunk that protected Rosa and Nan. It shocked them both, and Nan tumbled backwards on to the muddy ground. Despite her determined frown, Rosa thought she looked suddenly fragile.
‘Grandma Nan! Are you hurt?’ asked Rosa.
‘No, I’m absolutely fine,’ said Nan defiantly, righting the glasses on her nose. ‘It’s just that some crazy hare is firing weapons at us!’
Rosa knew Nan was shaken, and trying not to show it.
‘You must be more careful,’ said Rosa, helping Nan to her feet.
‘I’m not some doddery old stick, you know,’ said Nan. ‘I am always careful!’
‘Then be more careful,’ urged Rosa.
Grandma Nan huffed and tested out her legs.
‘No! My ankle’s twisted,’ she said, wincing as she lowered her foot to the ground.
‘Can you walk?’ asked Rosa.
‘Yes, I can walk,’ said Nan.
Another flurry of mud bombs splashed into the river.
‘And it’s time to put an end to this nonsense,’ said Nan. ‘Come on.’