‘Good,’ James Pond said. He looked them up and down. ‘Apart from Boo, you hens are pretty out of shape. It’s time for some exercise. Let’s do some press-ups.’
Amy dropped to her knees and started to push herself wearily up and down. She was rubbish at press-ups, especially when she was all itchy. Not as bad as Ruth though. Poor Ruth had already collapsed. It was only Boo who was any good at doing them from her gymnastics training.
‘Well done, Boo,’ James Pond said. ‘In fact it was so good you can do twenty more. You two, that was rubbish. Try sit-ups instead.’
Amy rolled on her back and tried to sit up. She couldn’t. Her tummy was too fat. She collapsed backwards on to the floor.
‘Pathetic,’ James Pond said. ‘Right. Let’s do some running. Fifty laps of the garden. NOW!’
‘I knew I wasn’t cut out for this,’ Boo puffed as the chickens toiled round the garden path.
‘Me neither,’ Ruth panted.
‘Don’t worry,’ Amy wheezed. ‘We’ll show Pond what we’re made of. The professor will soon realise we don’t need a team leader. Just you wait and see.’
Down in a burrow in the Deep Dark Woods, Thaddeus E. Fox drew back his chair and stood up. It was time to address the meeting.
He banged his silver cane on the table.
‘Friends,’ he said. ‘Welcome to this session of the MOST WANTED Club.’ He surveyed the group with some irritation. Everyone was present. Tiny Tony Tiddles was there, relaxing in an armchair, looking like he owned the joint. The Pigeon-Poo Gang had made themselves comfortable beside the larder in case any food fell out. And Kebab Claude lay stretched out on the earth floor, whining. Thaddeus E. Fox eyed the poodle with distaste. Kebab Claude was wrapped in oily bandages. Every now and then he raised a hind leg and scratched frantically. Thaddeus E. Fox waited while they all took their places.
‘There are three items on the agenda today.’ Thaddeus E. Fox handed round some bits of paper.
He waited patiently while everyone read them. ‘Let’s start with item three.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Claude, describe what happened at the country fair again. I want every last detail.’
Kebab Claude sat up painfully. He went through the events leading up to his infestation. ‘And zat was when zey blasted me wiz ze mites,’ he finished.
‘What did they look like?’ Thaddeus demanded. ‘The chickens that attacked you?’
‘One was small and fat with red cheeks,’ Claude growled. ‘Ze one wiz ze mite blaster had glasses. Zey were both young. I didn’t see no ozzers.’
‘But we can assume, I think, that there was a third bird,’ Thaddeus E. Fox deduced, ‘who assisted the chicks to safety. Think, Kebab, did you see the hat move?’
‘Now you come to mention it, I think I did!’ Kebab scratched his ear.
‘So, what we have is a team of three chickens equipped with a powerful mite blaster turning up in the nick of time to rescue of a bunch of school chicks,’ Thaddeus E. Fox mused. His yellow eyes narrowed. ‘It’s got Rooster written all over it.’
‘What, that professor dude?’ Tony Tiddles demanded. ‘The one that kept crowing to alert the humans? I thought you finished him off.’
‘Unfortunately not, my friend,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said. ‘Only his family. He escaped. I think this is his idea of revenge.’ Suddenly he started to laugh. ‘Phwa ha ha ha ha! Three kid chickens against the villainous talents of the MOST WANTED Club?! Rooster hasn’t got a prayer!’
The other members of the Club laughed too, except the Pigeon-Poo Gang, who cooed instead.
Thaddeus E. Fox banged his cane on the table. ‘Let us return to the agenda. Items one and two, to be precise. But we shall have to be vigilant. We shall have to outsmart Rooster and his chicken squad.’ He licked his chops. ‘Anyone got any ideas?’
Tony Tiddles put his paw up slowly. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said. ‘But I might need some aerial support if those chickens show up again.’
Thaddeus E. Fox raised an eyebrow in the direction of the Pigeon-Poo Gang. They huddled together. ‘Okay,’ their leader agreed. ‘We’ll do what we can. We’ve already got mites anyway.’
‘And fleas,’ another member of the gang added.
‘And worms,’ said the third.
Thaddeus E. Fox took a step away from them. ‘Er … okay, Tony, what’s the plan?’
‘Well, it’s not chickens exactly,’ Tony said. ‘It’s waterfowl.’
‘Waterfowl?’ Thaddeus E. Fox repeated.
‘Yeah, you know: ducks, geese, swans,’ Tiny Tony explained.
‘I know what waterfowl are, Tiddles,’ Thaddeus E. Fox said impatiently. ‘I also know that they spend a lot of time swimming and that I don’t particularly like getting wet unless it’s a very warm day. So what’s the plan?’
‘I was up at Dudley Manor this morning snooping around,’ Tiny Tony said, ‘and I noticed the humans have built a new birdhouse on the island for the waterfowl. There’s tons of them there.’
‘But how do we reach them?’ Thaddeus E. Fox demanded.
‘That’s the beauty of it,’ Tiny Tony grinned. ‘We don’t have to go to the island at all. The humans are so dumb they put food down for the birds on the grass bank opposite, so the birds swim over to feed. Then they get drowsy and have a little sleep. All we need to do is sneak up on them and bam!’ He told the MOST WANTED villains his plan.
Thaddeus E. Fox nodded approvingly. ‘Very nice, Tony. Very nice.’ He licked his lips. ‘I’ll take my goose with extra apple sauce.’
‘Up you get!’
Amy felt a large webbed foot plant itself on her backside. It was Pond’s. ‘Go away,’ she groaned. ‘It’s Sunday. I want a lie-in.’ Her parents had always let her have a lie-in at Perrin’s Farm on a Sunday.
‘Now!’ Pond shouted. ‘Or I’ll kick your butt.’
‘Okay, I’m coming!’ Amy croaked. Pond had kicked her butt the day before and it was still bruised.
‘Outside!’ Pond quacked.
‘But I haven’t had any breakfast!’ Amy protested.
‘Too bad.’
Amy stumbled out of the door into the vegetable garden.
‘Put your flight-booster engine on,’ Pond ordered.
‘Here you are, Amy.’ Ruth held it out to her. She and Boo were already wearing theirs.
‘Where are we going?’ Amy yawned.
‘On a mission,’ Boo whispered. ‘Professor Rooster was on the computer this morning. Only Pond won’t tell us what it is he wants us to do.’
‘Pond’s so annoying!’ Amy stormed. ‘It’s like he wants to get all the credit.’
‘Stop squawking and follow me,’ Pond thundered.
James Pond lolloped along the garden path, flapping his wings furiously. Amy was pleased to see he didn’t look much better at taking off than she was. Once he was in the air though, Amy had to admit, Pond was a good flyer. His wing strokes were powerful and his long neck stretched out in front of him like a missile seeking its target. He zoomed over the garden wall and out over the park. Amy had to put her flight booster on MAX to keep up with him.
Chicken HQ was at the northern end of the park. Amy could see the great stone bulk of Dudley Manor ahead of them. To the left of the house was where the chickens lived in their coops, penned in with wire. Amy assumed that was their destination: Fox and his cronies must be mounting an attack on the pens! She hoped they’d be in time. To her surprise, however, James Pond flew in the opposite direction – west, towards the river.
Amy flapped alongside him. ‘Where are we going?’ she puffed. ‘The chicken runs are the other way.’
‘It’s not the chickens we’re concerned about,’ Pond quacked. ‘Professor Rooster got a tip-off from his spies in the Deep Dark Woods. Tiny Tony Tiddles has teamed up with the Pigeon-Poo Gang. They’re going after the waterfowl. Tiddles and the rest of the MOST WANTED Club get the birds. The Pigeon-Poo Gang scoff the birdseed. Easy pickings.’ He grunted. ‘Except they hadn’t planned on James Pond bei
ng around.’
‘Or us,’ Amy muttered defiantly. She fell back in line with Boo and Ruth, giving them a wave of encouragement. They smiled back weakly. Amy knew they were just as fed up with James Pond as she was. Especially Boo, after that mean thing Pond had said about her being a scaredy-hen. If only they could work out a way of getting rid of him! Amy was sure they didn’t need his help. They just needed a bit more practice; that was all.
‘Coming in to land,’ James Pond shouted. He flew low over the river, raising his head and chest up and slowing the beat of his wings, landing elegantly with the tiniest of splashes in the water. He swam over to the rushes on the edge of the grassy bank.
Amy landed with a bump on the lawn. Boo and Ruth dropped down next to her.
James Pond waddled up. He had a net bag of peanuts in his beak, which he laid at the chickens’ feet. ‘Go upriver, keeping out of sight,’ he ordered. ‘When you’re opposite the island throw some peanuts on to the grass. The Pigeon-Poo Gang will be there like a shot. They can’t resist muscling in on someone else’s lunch. It’s in their DNA. You keep them busy; I’ll deal with Tiddles. Watch out though – make sure you hide the rest of the nuts or the pigeons will be after you.’
Amy picked up the bag of peanuts and tucked it under her wing. ‘It’s not fair, she said. ‘He gets to have all the fun.’
The chickens clambered along the bank through the rushes. It was hard work, Amy thought, unless you had great big webbed feet, like Pond. Her toes kept getting sucked into the mud.
‘My boots are getting filthy,’ Boo sniffed.
‘Never mind,’ Amy consoled her. ‘You can have a nice bath when you get back and clean them with some Bird Bright.’
‘I can’t!’ Boo said sadly. ‘Pond’s used it all.’
‘Honestly!’ said Amy. ‘That duck’s a right pain in the bum!’
‘And he’s locked the gadget cupboard so I can’t get in it,’ Ruth lamented. ‘He won’t even let me invent anything in case I get it wrong. He says hens can’t do things like that.’
‘For goodness’ sake!’ said Amy. She was getting crosser and crosser with James Pond. Of course Ruth could invent things! She was brilliant at it. And Boo wasn’t a scaredy-hen. She was brave. She deserved her Bird Bright baths. Pond just had to stick his beak into everything. In the week since he’d arrived he’d even nabbed the computer for himself. He wouldn’t let Amy watch the wrestling. He just wanted to watch holiday programmes so he could boast about all the places he’d been to in the world. Amy stomped along, fuming.
Ruth interrupted her musings. ‘Maybe if we do a good job today,’ Ruth was saying in her practical voice, ‘we could ask Professor Rooster nicely if we can do the next mission on our own.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Boo agreed.
‘But we’re hardly doing anything,’ Amy grumbled. ‘Professor Rooster won’t be impressed. Pond’s doing all the rescuing; all we have to do is throw a bunch of peanuts at some pigeons.’ She puffed out her cheeks and blew a big, fed-up sigh.
‘Maybe it’ll be more exciting than you think,’ Boo said. ‘I mean, Professor Rooster did say that the pigeons were dangerous.’
‘I doubt it,’ Amy muttered.
Ruth was in front of them. She stopped suddenly. ‘There’s the island!’ she said.
Amy peered out from the rushes. A big white birdhouse with a red roof and ivy growing up the walls stood on a small island in the middle of the river.
‘Where are the waterfowl?’ Boo whispered, creeping up beside her.
‘I don’t know,’ Amy replied. The birdhouse was empty.
‘Over here,’ Ruth hissed. ‘On the bank.’
Amy squeezed her way back through the rushes. The waterfowl had swum across the river from the birdhouse to feed. They were sunning themselves on the lawn that stretched down to the river from the manor house.
‘Oh no,’ said Amy. ‘They’re sitting ducks! We need to get them back across to the island before Tiddles strikes.’
‘Too late,’ Boo said. She pointed up the lawn.
Tiny Tony Tiddles was crawling along the grass towards the snoozing waterfowl.
Amy waved frantically at the sleepy birds. ‘Watch out!’ she squawked. ‘There’s a cat.’
Some of the waterfowl woke up. They scrambled to their feet.
‘Retreat to the river!’ shouted Ruth. ‘Go back to the birdhouse. Mayday! Mayday!’
More of the waterfowl woke up. They flocked this way and that in a panic.
Just then there was a rustle of wings.
‘The Pigeon-Poo Gang!’ Boo screeched.
Amy watched aghast as three grey and purple birds in shades appeared out of a tree and circled the garden.
‘Quick, Amy! Throw the peanuts,’ Ruth urged.
Amy scuttled out of the rushes and threw some peanuts on the grass. She scurried back to her friends, being careful to hide the peanut net under her wing so as not to draw attention to their presence.
The Pigeon-Poo Gang swooped on to the lawn. Within seconds they’d scoffed all the nuts plus all the feed the waterfowl had missed.
‘It’s not going to stop them!’ Amy cried. The Pigeon-Poo Gang had already taken off again.
‘They’re heading for the water,’ Ruth reported. ‘I think they’re going to launch an aerial bombardment.’
The Pigeon-Poo Gang flew low over the river, turned around and zoomed back towards the waterfowl.
PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!
They let out a volley of droppings.
The waterfowl stumbled about, not knowing which way to go. They were sandwiched between Tiny Tony Tiddles on one side and the Pigeon-Poo Gang on the other.
‘It’s a trap!’ Amy shrieked. ‘Where’s Pond? He’s supposed to be here by now.’
SPLASH!SPLASH!SPLASH!SPLASH!SPLASH!
Just then she heard a noise. It was coming from the other side of the rushes.
‘Look!’ said Ruth.
Amy stared in amazement. James Pond was approaching the bank, his neck outstretched and his webbed feet splashing madly; whirring round like paddles on a demented pedalo.
‘Duck!’ Pond shouted.
The chickens ducked.
James Pond shot out of the river and into the air. He whizzed over the rushes and past the terrified waterfowl, ramrod straight, without opening his wings.
BOING!!!!
He whammed straight into Tiny Tony Tiddles, knocking him out with his beak.
‘You’ve got to admit, that duck’s got class,’ Ruth said reluctantly.
PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!
The Pigeon-Poo Gang commenced another attack.
‘Quick, Amy,’ Boo said. ‘They haven’t given up yet. They’re going after Pond.’
‘Throw the peanuts!’ Ruth yelled.
‘Okay, come and get it!’ Amy scuttled out of the rushes and scattered some more peanuts on the grass. She was about to empty them all out when her stomach gave a growl. Amy remembered she hadn’t had any breakfast. She hesitated. There were tons of peanuts on the lawn. It would keep the pigeons busy for a bit. Long enough for her, Boo and Ruth to have a quick snack without the pigeons noticing. She counted seven nuts: three for her and two each for Boo and Ruth.
‘Hurry up!’ Boo cried.
‘Coming!’ Amy hurried back to her hiding place. ‘Here,’ she handed her friends a peanut.
PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!
A hail of droppings landed on the chickens.
‘Aaarrggghh!’ Boo screamed. ‘It’s the Pigeon-Poo Gang! They’re after our nuts!’
Amy could hardly believe it. They must have finished the peanuts on the grass already! She’d never imagined any bird could eat so quickly. Suddenly she remembered what Professor Rooster had said about the Pigeon-Poo Gang: Don’t be fooled. These are some of the greediest, grottiest gangsters I’ve ever come across on the Dudley Estate. Amy gulped. She shouldn’t have underestimated the pigeons. And she’d put Boo and Ruth in danger. They were a
bout to get sludged.
‘Hide the peanuts, Amy!’ Boo shrieked, diving for cover.
PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!PHUT!
‘I can’t see them!’ Amy screamed. She had pigeon poo in her eyes.
‘Quick, Amy!’ Ruth yelled. ‘Before they sludge us to death!’
‘It’s too late!’ Boo sobbed. ‘The pigeons have landed.’
The three pigeons fluttered about in the rushes, scratching and pecking at the chickens, desperate for more nuts.
‘Do something, someone!’ Boo screeched.
‘I can’t move!’ Ruth lay on her back in the mud. ‘That poo’s stronger than superglue! I’m stuck in the mud!’
‘My eyelids are glued together!’ Amy squawked.
‘My beautiful boots!’ Boo wept. ‘I’ll have to have them plucked!’
‘HISSSSSSSSSS! SSSSSSSSSSSSSS!’
‘What’s going on?’ Amy looked about blindly. She heard the squelch of feet. Then honking. And quacking. And more hissing. The cacophony of noises rose all around her in a great din.
‘It’s Pond,’ Ruth’s voice rose over the sound. ‘He’s attacking the pigeons. The rest of the waterfowl are helping him.’
‘HISSSSSSS! QUACK! HONK!’ The battle continued.
Finally Amy heard the rustle of feathers and a last desperate ‘coo’.
‘The pigeons have gone!’ Boo told her.
‘Phew!’ Amy said. ‘Thank goodness that’s over.’
Just then something grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. She felt herself being lifted in the air. The next thing she knew she was being plunged into freezing-cold water. Something rubbed at her eyes. Amy struggled and flapped. But whatever it was kept rubbing, pausing occasionally to let her up for air.
Eventually she landed back on the bank.
She opened her eyes. They weren’t glued together any more. James Pond was standing over her. She glanced to the side. Boo and Ruth were lying nearby, their legs in the air, gasping for breath. They were both bedraggled, like her, but clean. At least, Amy thought, trying to look on the bright side, Boo’s boots hadn’t been plucked.
Danger in the Deep Dark Woods Page 5