Umbrella Mouse to the Rescue

by Anna Fargher

  ‘Wait!’ Pip cried. ‘The umbrella! I can’t leave it in the warren – I have to go back for it!’ Her stomach twisted with guilt that she didn’t have it with her. If anything happened to it, she would be betraying Mama and Papa’s memory and all the other Hanway mice who had lived in it before her.

  ‘Stay where you are, little one,’ said Henri, abruptly rocking on his front knees to stand at his full height, ‘the warren may not be far away, but I’m faster than you’ll ever be.’

  Leaping forward, Henri galloped through the undergrowth to where Noah’s Ark scrambled around the rabbit warren, preparing to leave. Pip saw two squirrels emerge from her and Madame Fourcade’s burrow with the umbrella raised above their heads.

  ‘Noah’s Ark!’ Madame Fourcade yelled, speaking as quickly as she could. ‘The Butcher Birds are coming and a fate worse than death awaits us if we are caught by them.’ The animals’ ears flattened, and they muttered fearfully to one another as they hopped over to the stag. ‘Go in small groups of four or five if you must,’ the hedgehog continued gravely. ‘Any more than that and we risk too many of us being killed or captured.’

  ‘What if they find us?’ a beaver asked from the middle of the group beside his wife and son.

  ‘Everyone knows the Butcher Birds never stop hunting until they get what they want,’ a tabby cat added.

  ‘Remember that if you are found they will try everything to convince you to share your secrets so you must escape by whatever means you can. But if you are caught you must be strong – no matter how much pain they inflict, you cannot breathe a word about us. You’ll be killing us all if you reveal our secrets. If you speak, it must only be with lies.’

  ‘Where do we go now?’ Robert the bullfinch’s brow furrowed as he hurriedly strapped Noah’s Ark’s small crystal radio set to his back.

  ‘Paris, as planned. We must find the white mouse by entering the catacombs via a secret entrance below a statue of an angel in the Luxembourg Gardens. Once inside, turn right and keep going straight, then you won’t get lost inside the labyrinth of limestone quarries beneath the city. Bernard Booth says it stretches for hundreds of miles.’

  ‘But, Madame –’ Henri shook his head as the rest of Noah’s Ark nodded and collected into their small groups of four or five animals – ‘a stag cannot enter the catacombs or fight on the streets of Paris. I will come with you as far as I can, then will remain in the forest and wait for your return.’

  ‘And we will meet again with victory singing in our hearts, mon cher ami.’ Madame Fourcade smiled. ‘Everyone: sabotage the enemy every chance you get on the way!’ the hedgehog continued, and Noah’s Ark listened with their ears pricked high. ‘Keep your eyes and ears open, and your noses to the ground – above all, trust no one. We cannot be sure which animals are Axis or Allied, but we can be sure the Milice will leave no stone unturned. We’ll reunite in Paris in a few days and fight for our liberation together! Now split up and get away from here as fast as you can!’

  Noah’s Ark scattered in all directions with many glancing back over their shoulders for final glimpses of Pip and Madame Fourcade standing between Henri’s ears before they disappeared into the tree canopy or vanished through the ground ferns.

  ‘There must be something we can do for GI Joe,’ Pip said, staring up as Henri scooped the umbrella into his upper antlers above the pigeon, who flopped listlessly in the stag’s horns. ‘We can’t lose him now. He needs a doctor.’

  ‘He needs more than that.’ Madame Fourcade’s brow furrowed. ‘He needs a miracle.’

  ‘We must take him to the Great Stag,’ Henri said firmly. ‘His ancient knowledge of forest medicines is the only thing that can save GI Joe. Our forest is large, but now we’re in the eastern region, and the Great Stag isn’t far. He’s always been based to the south-east and I’m sure his small band of Resistance fighters will help us when we tell them how much GI Joe has helped the cause.’

  ‘That’s if the Great Stag is still alive,’ Madame Fourcade replied. ‘Rogue Wolves moved into his territory not long ago. They answer to no one and they serve nothing but nature itself. Most of the wolves in that part of the forest were our allies, but the Rogues have been killing them in droves, using the sloping ground there to hide, ambush and kill anyone outside their own packs. Then they take their land for themselves. Without help from other wolves, we will not be protected, and if the Rogue Wolves catch our scent before we find the Great Stag we’re finished.’

  ‘But we have to try,’ Pip said, her tail flicking with determination. ‘GI Joe would do anything to help us if we were him. He’d never be afraid of the Rogue Wolves and nor should we. He’s risked everything to save us from the Butcher Birds – we must do the same for him too.’

  ‘You’re right, chérie.’ Madame Fourcade sighed. ‘But we only stand a chance if you sprint, Henri. If the Butcher Birds don’t get us first, the Rogue Wolves will. And the sooner we get GI Joe help, the sooner we will reach Paris.’

  ‘I only know where his territory lies.’ Henri hung his head. ‘I don’t know where his hideout is.’

  ‘Then we must hope we still have friends in those parts,’ Madame Fourcade said. ‘The Great Stag has resisted the enemy since the beginning of the war and his group operates there somewhere near brambles. Our squirrels and birds have communicated with his scouts in the past. He sends bees and bats – they were the ones to tell us the Rogue Wolves had arrived in their territory. They’ll be keeping a lookout for danger, just like we do. If they approach, we will reveal who we are with the Resistance’s secret phrases. GI Joe does not have time for games.’

  ‘But what if the Butcher Birds catch up with us before we find them?’ Pip asked, staring warily into the treetops.

  ‘This forest is dense,’ the hedgehog said. ‘If all else fails, we will hide and do everything we can not to be found.’

  ‘Then hurry, Henri.’ Pip swallowed. ‘We have to get him help before it’s too late.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  GABRIEL AND MADELEINE

  Pip and Madame Fourcade gripped the fur on the crown of Henri’s head as he raced through the blustering wind and rain, plummeting through the forest. On and on he ran, weaving around tall trunks and shrubs until at last the Great Stag’s territory of undulating slopes appeared, rolling into the distance for as far as they could see.

  Henri picked up speed and descended the first decline. Reaching the sodden earth below and swerving sharply to the right, he galloped between the rises of the land, sheltering behind them so as not to be seen from higher ground.

  ‘We must move faster or the wolves and the Butcher Birds will be upon us, Henri!’ Madame Fourcade cried, shaking the storm from her quills as Henri slowed, thick mulch now clinging to his hooves.

  ‘I’m trying,’ the stag panted, stumbling through the sludge.

  ‘We need to get out of this muck,’ Pip said, looking around her, with raindrops dripping from her whiskers. ‘Climb that slope!’ She pointed to a bank on their left where a steady stream of water trickled down its surface and soaked the earth below.

  ‘But there’s no cover up there.’ Henri shook his head. ‘If the Rogue Wolves or Butcher Birds don’t see us first, then men will.’

  ‘Men are slower than wolves and Butcher Birds,’ Madame Fourcade said.

  ‘Their bullets are faster than all three, Madame.’

  ‘We have to take that risk if we are going to save GI.’

  ‘You can do it, Henri,’ Pip said, tenderly stroking the fur between his ears. ‘I know you can.’

  ‘As you wish.’ Henri sighed, puffing heavily as he crested the bank with his ears cocking for sounds of the enemy. ‘Hold tight!’

  The air grew dense with thunder as Henri rushed forward. Now with firm ground beneath him, he raced on, vaulting over fallen branches and weaving around clusters of trees. The heat rose from his body as Pip clutched at his fur, and she bit her lip with worry, staring up at GI Joe and the umbrella jostling in his antl
ers.

  As a bolt of lightning raked across the dark morning sky and illuminated the forest in a strange violet glow, Pip’s eyes were drawn to a powerful shape bounding on all fours, flickering behind the tree trunks below. Turning her head to the opposite side of the bank, she spied another, matching Henri’s speed.

  ‘Wolves!’ Madame Fourcade’s eyes rounded with fear, seeing their huge, sinewy bodies tear through the trees towards them. ‘Run, Henri!’

  Henri’s hooves charged across the ground and the wolves curled their lips back from white pointed teeth as a chilling howl swallowed the forest whole.

  ‘They’re gaining on us!’ Pip cried, glancing behind them. Three wolves were giving chase and drooling, smelling the scent of fear on the wind.

  ‘Keep going!’ Madame Fourcade urged.

  ‘Don’t let them circle us!’ But the wolves drew closer and enveloped the stag from the rear. Feeling their warm breath panting on his heels, Henri leaped sharply to the right, bucking his hind legs out behind him and struck a wolf in the muzzle. It yowled and crumpled in pain. A moment later, another wolf collided with it and they tumbled down the hill, snarling at each other’s throats.

  ‘We have to do something,’ Pip said, panicked, listening to Henri’s breath rasp with fatigue.

  ‘All we can do is run.’ The hedgehog trembled beside her as the wolves relentlessly sprinted forward, gnashing their jaws at the stag. ‘Only luck can decide our fate now.’

  A shard of lightning flashed above the trees and the stag hurried onwards, gaining a few valuable strides. But a moment later Pip and Madame Fourcade gasped with dread, seeing a large fallen trunk blocking the path ahead.

  ‘Hang on!’ Henri panted, and Pip and Madame Fourcade held their breath as he hurled himself into the air. Grazing its bark with his hooves, the stag cleared the fallen tree and landed heavily on the other side with GI Joe and the umbrella rocking precariously in his horns.

  ‘Look out!’ Madame Fourcade shrieked.

  Pip yelped with horror. Ahead, a huge white wolf charged straight for them. A smaller grey wolf sprinted beside it and Pip shivered, feeling its silver gaze bore into her own.

  ‘We’re surrounded!’ Henri bellowed, swiftly zigzagging and darting his head from left to right in search of a place to run, but the wolves were everywhere and nearing every second. ‘Hold tight!’ he yelled, and with a defiant puff of his nose, he lowered his head of horns to attack.

  ‘Henri, no!’ Pip cried as Madame Fourcade curled her prickles around her paws, still clinging to Henri’s fur. ‘GI Joe and the umbrella will get hurt!’

  ‘Forgive me!’ Henri said, hurtling towards the white and grey wolves, zooming closer with every stride. ‘This is our only hope!’

  Pip couldn’t breathe. There was no escape. Sharp teeth snapped from all sides and the wolves’ pants echoed in her ears like a rhythmic chant, increasing in hunger and speed as they closed in on their prey. With no time to think and nowhere to run, Pip scrunched up her eyes and hoped.

  The white wolf and his mate pounced and a fearful roar enveloped them all. Yet Henri raced onwards with his hooves pounding the earth even faster than before. Snarls sounded behind them, and Pip and Madame Fourcade dared to look back at the wolves who were now somersaulting across the forest floor.

  ‘The white wolf and his mate must be our allies!’ Pip cried, relief flooding through her as they edged further from the fray. ‘That must be why they are helping us!’

  ‘We can’t be sure of that,’ Madame Fourcade added gravely. ‘Any stranger could be fighting for the enemy. We’ll only know which side they’re on when we speak.’

  ‘And we can’t risk mistaking them,’ Henri puffed, slowing to a canter and catching his breath before struggling to pick up speed once more. ‘We must keep going!’

  The stag bounded forward in exhausted strides and Pip couldn’t take her eyes off the wolves, gnashing their fangs at one another’s throats. The white wolf dwarfed the others, and with the help of his mate soon the three smaller wolves retreated into the distant trees with their grey, bushy tails tucked between their legs.

  ‘They’ve beaten them!’ Pip gasped, a chill rippling over them when the white wolf and its mate threw their heads back in triumph and howled over the storm.

  ‘Hurry, Henri,’ Madame Fourcade said urgently as their haunting chorus ceased. ‘It won’t be long before—’

  ‘They’re coming after us!’ Pip quailed, the wolves’ steely gaze turning to her. ‘Run!’

  ‘Stay where you are!’ the white wolf barked, racing after the stag with his mate.

  ‘Henri!’ Madame Fourcade looked fearfully over her shoulder. ‘Don’t stop until we can be sure they are our allies. They won’t attack us if they are friends.’

  Pip glanced up at GI Joe and the umbrella cradled in Henri’s horns, and bit her lip.

  ‘Foolish creatures!’ the grey wolf growled as Henri sprang forward, his whole body trembling with the toll of the chase. ‘Stop now if you want to live!’

  Thunder crashed above the animals as the white wolf charged down the bank to the foot of the slope and dashed ahead with spots of black rainwater spattering his snowy fur.

  ‘Run!’ Madame Fourcade cried. ‘Don’t let him attack us from the front!’

  ‘Don’t give up, Henri!’ Pip yelled, dread knotting inside her as the stag desperately competed with the wolves, edging ahead of them with fearfully powerful strides. ‘Just keep going!’

  The white wolf raced back up the bank to their right and leaped for Henri’s throat. His fangs glinted in a flash of lightning and Henri reared, pummelling the wolf in the flank with his hooves. The white wolf twisted in the air with a furious snarl and landed on four paws with his mate galloping into the fray from behind.

  ‘Axis or Allied?’ the wolves barked, circling the stag with their hackles rising.

  ‘What do you care?’ Madame Fourcade spat. ‘The Rogue Wolves are neutral – you care about no one but yourselves.’

  ‘The Rogue Wolves are vermin,’ the white wolf growled, and the hint of a smile drew across the hedgehog’s face, her first test of their loyalties fulfilled. ‘If we were like them, we’d have let them feast on you.’

  ‘Wait, Gabriel!’ the grey wolf said, her face immediately softening as she noticed the umbrella in Henri’s antlers. ‘I think . . . it’s . . . It’s the Umbrella Mouse!’

  ‘We’ve never heard of the Umbrella Mouse,’ Henri panted, rushing at the wolves with his antlers, but they hopped effortlessly out of harm’s way. ‘And this bird is dead. It is of no—’

  ‘The blue horse walks on the horizon! ’ the white wolf interrupted, with his mate smiling beside him. Madame Fourcade’s ears snapped forward and Henri’s tail wagged.

  ‘Under the moon that is full of green elephants,’ the hedgehog replied.

  Pip beamed. The wolf and Madame Fourcade had uttered the secret phrases the Resistance used to identify themselves. The hedgehog chuckled as she turned to the wolves, now lolling their tongues out of their mouths like dogs. ‘You are right – she is the Umbrella Mouse.’

  ‘Your story has spread far,’ the grey wolf said.

  ‘The escape you organized from the Nacht und Nebel camp has crazed the enemy,’ the white wolf added. ‘The whole forest has been talking about it! I’m Gabriel and this is Madeleine. Consider us your loyal friends.’

  ‘We knew Noah’s Ark operated nearby,’ Madeleine added. ‘We’ve been keeping our eyes out for you in the hope we could help you in some way. Your bravery has inspired everyone in the Resistance.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Gabriel asked as Pip’s whiskers drooped with shame. If they’d heard what she’d done, then they’d know it was her fault her friends had been hurt. ‘We’ve sent warnings to other territories ever since the Rogue Wolves forced their way into these woods. We are the only ones left in our pack. They care about nothing except land and prey, and they’ll do anything to get it.’

  ‘We’re loo
king for the Great Stag.’ Henri stepped forward. ‘Our friend is gravely injured and the stag is the only creature who can help him.’

  ‘We know where he is.’ Madeleine’s tail wagged. ‘We’ve been protecting him since France fell. He isn’t far.’

  ‘Please take us there,’ Pip said urgently, staring up at GI Joe. ‘We don’t have much time. We’re being hunted by the Milice.’

  ‘We know,’ Gabriel said. ‘Two days ago we chased the Butcher Birds away from some rabbits near here.’

  ‘They’re vicious.’ Madeleine pulled her ears back with rage and Pip spotted black scabs where they had been pecked and clawed.

  ‘And they’re coming for us now.’ Henri’s ears cocked. ‘I can hear their calls to the west.’ Pip shuddered, catching a shrill, shrieking song travelling on the wind.

  ‘Follow us.’ Madeleine trotted forward. ‘We must be swift if we are going to outrun them.’

  The animals hurried down the bank to the right and galloped together up and down rolling slopes across the forest with the Butcher Birds’ hunting cries creeping closer through the trees behind them. A few panicked minutes brought them to an abrupt stop at the crest of a hill.

  ‘No!’ Madame Fourcade gasped despairingly, seeing a vast tangle of brambles tumbling down the other side of the bank and unfurling into the distant trees.

  ‘We’re trapped!’ Henri panted, shuffling anxiously on his hooves.

  ‘There’s still time.’ Pip scowled defiantly. ‘Run along this bank, Henri! We’ll find a way around the brambles somewhere.’

  ‘Stay where you are!’ Madeleine growled, whipping her head round to face the stag, her silver eyes gleaming with authority as she scanned the distant treetops. ‘You cannot outrun the Butcher Birds now. They’ll be upon us soon.’

  The wolves hurried to the thorns and uttered five gruff staccato barks followed by a moan. Instantly a black head with a thick ebony beak popped up from the brambles and hopped into view with a flap of its black-and-white wings. It perched upon a thorny branch and cocked its head from side to side towards the sound.