Otter Chaos!

by Michael Broad

  “Yes, ma’am,” Chip replied shyly. “We’ve seen him stalking at the edge of the forest. Dad says to keep a constant lookout and stay close to the river.”

  Just then Chip’s dad rose out of the water, followed by Twiggy and their three daughters. Chuck looked as bad-tempered as ever. He motioned for his son to join his sisters, who all tutted with disapproval as Chip approached them. Twiggy’s mood didn’t seem any better and she nudged her husband to say something to the otters.

  “We wouldn’t need to look out for mountain lions if you lot hadn’t led one to the river where we live!” growled Chuck, picking at his huge front teeth with a fish bone.

  “Well, we wouldn’t have been chased by a mountain lion if you hadn’t built that stupid dam,” growled Papa Brown, waving a paw at the enormous wall of wood.

  “How do you work that out?” scoffed Chuck.

  “We only happened upon the mountain lion because you stole all our fish and forced us into the Wild West!” retorted Papa Black. “It was the only other place we could get a decent meal to feed our families.”

  There was silence for a moment, broken only by snorting and snuffling from both camps, and much puffing out of chests as the situation turned into a stand-off between the otters and the beavers. Grandpa Bruno swung his paws, while Grandpa Jack held him back.

  “No one is entirely to blame,” Mama Brown said firmly.

  “Well, if you ask me—” said Twiggy.

  “If we asked you,” interrupted Mama Black, smiling hopefully at the beaver, “I’m sure you would agree that no good can come from our husbands fighting. Especially when we have young ones to protect against a common enemy.”

  Twiggy screwed up her nose and frowned as she thought about what had just been said to her. Then she looked at Chuck and her children and nodded in agreement.

  “So I propose that we put all our differences aside for now and join forces,” added Mama Brown, smiling at the beavers. “And I would like to invite you all back to Cottonwood Lodge, where we can tackle the problem of the mountain lion … together.”

  he otters and beavers somehow managed to cram into the central chamber at Cottonwood Lodge. Papa Brown and Papa Black stood before the mud wall that they had previously used as a drawing board.

  “I would first like to offer a very warm welcome to the beaver family!” said Papa Brown, smiling at the beavers. “And I’d like to welcome all the otters back to what has become our secret mission headquarters. It seems like only yesterday we were in here plotting to get rid of those pesky—”

  “Eagles!” interrupted Papa Black.

  “Eagles?” frowned Papa Brown, and then realised what he’d been about to say. The purpose of their last big meeting had been to get rid of the beavers and their dam. “Yes, eagles!” he added quickly. “Horrible things – flapping about with their sharp talons.”

  “What eagles?” said Chuck. “I haven’t seen any eagles.”

  “That’s because we shooed them all away,” said Papa Black, turning to the wall and using his stick to draw a weird blob shape. “But now we are up against this chap here!” he said, pointing to the picture.

  “A crocodile?” said Twiggy, tilting her head.

  “No,” said Papa Black. “A mountain lion.”

  “That looks more like a crocodile to me,” said Twiggy, glancing around to see what everyone else thought of the drawing. “It definitely doesn’t look like a lion.”

  “It does have a reptile quality to it,” agreed Chuck.

  Papa Black sighed and quickly shortened the tail and added some whiskers. He looked back to Chuck and Twiggy, who squinted at the drawing and shrugged.

  “Anyway … this mountain lion has come after us once and now he’s lurking at the edge of the forest,” said Papa Brown. “Big cats like him are partial to an otter or a beaver for lunch, so it’s only a matter of time before he tries again. We need to find a way to stop him coming back here for good.”

  “Otters and beavers both have their own unique skills, and with so many of us we should be able to come up with a plan,” added Papa Black. “Now, does anyone have any ideas?”

  The young otters offered the usual suggestions, ranging from trying to speak to the mountain lion nicely, pushing him off a cliff, or turning him into a toad or a turnip. The eager otters all put something forward, but nothing was heard from the beavers.

  “Do any of the beavers have any ideas as to how to get rid of the mountain lion?” asked Papa Brown, casting his eyes across the sea of black and brown heads, and resting on three rusty red ones grouped in the middle.

  The Saw Sisters stared back at him and said nothing. Had they been asked to chop down a tree, or chomp through a log, they would have been first in line, but coming up with ideas wasn’t really their thing. Neither was talking.

  Twiggy saw her daughters looking uncomfortable and quickly spoke up. “The crocodile could scare the mountain lion off,” she said.

  “Or the eagles,” said Chuck. “It’s a shame you got rid of them.”

  There was an awkward silence during which the otters all looked round, wondering whether the beavers were joking or if crocodiles and eagles were the best they could come up with.

  “We beavers are builders,” Chuck growled angrily, standing up and waving his arms about. “Well, most of us are. Chip has yet to fell a tree or stack a log and is a huge disappointment, but the rest of us build!”

  “We know what you do! It’s your building that got us into this mess in the first place!” said Papa Brown bitterly, who would not be yelled at in his own lodge. “What’s your point?”

  “I’m saying, if you come up with a plan that relies on good, honest building, then we’ll build it for you,” said Chuck, sitting down again defiantly. “But I have yet to hear a single suggestion that isn’t full of holes, and if there’s one thing beavers hate, it’s holes!”

  The adult otters agreed with the beavers that none of the proposals would work on their own. They were about to suggest that everyone take a break when they noticed Woody and Sooty waving at the back of the chamber.

  “Chip has a plan!” said Woody.

  “And it’s a really clever one,” added Sooty.

  “Oh, this should be good,” Chuck grumbled sarcastically. The Saw Sisters narrowed their eyes at their brother, but a look from their mum told them to be quiet until they’d heard what he had to say.

  The young beaver kit made his way to the front and swallowed.

  Chip had been happy to plot and plan with his otter friends, who both thought his ideas were brilliant, but when it came to explaining them to the grown-ups, he suddenly became shy. Woody and Sooty quickly joined him at the front of the chamber and revealed the whole plan while the beaver kit took the stick from Papa Black and turned to the mud wall behind him.

  Chip wiped out the drawing of the peculiar crocodile-mountain-lion mutant and then drew a grid across the wall. He proceeded to map out his plan as the otter pups described each phase in great detail. The beaver also made a little drawing of each contraption to be built and indicated the size it needed to be.

  The Saw Sisters watched the plan unfold and although they didn’t completely understand it, they were still impressed that their little brother, who was rubbish at building, had a talent for inventing things that others could build. Twiggy was beaming at her son’s hidden genius, and kept nudging Chuck. But her husband was not a beaver who would change his mind easily. Chuck had only ever wanted a son who could build a dam, so that he could follow in his paw prints. He simply watched and grunted from time to time until his son stopped drawing and the otter pups stopped talking.

  “Well?” said Papa Brown excitedly, stepping up to the front again and addressing the scowling Chuck, the smiling Twiggy and the befuddled Saw Sisters. “Can you build it?”

  “Of course we can build it,” said the head beaver, scratching his chin as he scanned the complicated blueprint, while Chip stood next to it and hoped to see a flicker of pride
from his father. “But whether it will work or not is another matter entirely!”

  he beavers worked through most of the night to get the various elements of the contraption built and set up round the site of Cottonwood Lodge. Chip had given up trying to impress his dad, but was determined to see his plan succeed. He oversaw all of the building work and instructed the beavers to make minor modifications as they tried and tested each part of the apparatus. The otters also stayed up most of the night, working out their part in the plan, which was very dangerous. It needed several rehearsals, with the help of the beavers, and by morning everyone was ready to put Chip’s grand plan into action.

  Papa Brown and Papa Black bounced up and down on the mooring pad, preparing for the task ahead. Their role was to head back into the Wild West forest and lure the mountain lion to the river. It was a perilous mission, but vital for the plan to work, so their wives were each trying to put on a brave face.

  “Now make sure you don’t get caught,” said Mama Brown, hugging Papa Brown before the two of them rubbed noses. “You’ll be no use to any of us in the belly of a mountain lion.”

  “Promise me that you’ll keep a safe distance,” said Mama Black, hugging Papa Black tightly.

  “I promise,” gasped Papa Black. “We’ll both be fine.”

  “And we’ll be looking out for each other,” said Papa Brown.

  “Are you sure you don’t need backup?” asked Woody.

  “We’ve outrun him before!” Sooty added eagerly.

  “That’s very brave of you both,” said Papa Brown.

  “But someone has to stay behind and look after everyone else,” whispered Papa Black. The two pups nodded in agreement and hugged their dads.

  Mama Black and Mama Brown clutched each other’s paws as they watched their husbands clamber up the steep bank. They reached the tree-line, waved back at the onlookers and then disappeared into the forest.

  Papa Brown and Papa Black had been putting on a brave face too, because neither of them wanted to meet the mountain lion again. But their families were counting on them, so they took a deep breath, wished each other the best of luck and dashed between the trees. The two otters looked and listened and sniffed with every step, using all of their senses to find the beast before it found them – and it didn’t take very long at all.

  “There!” whispered Papa Brown, pointing to a flicker of movement in the distance. The otters hid behind a tree and watched, and sure enough the mountain lion stalked into the clearing. It was almost as though he was waiting for the otters to return.

  “It’s now or never,” said Papa Black. “Are you ready to run?”

  Papa Brown took a deep breath and nodded, then the pair hopped out from their hiding place and began to laugh and play noisily, pretending they had no idea the big cat was there, and when he turned in their direction they acted as though he had taken them by surprise.

  “Oh, what rotten luck!” said Papa Brown, speaking at the top of his voice for the benefit of the beast. “It’s that big, scary mountain lion we escaped from yesterday!”

  “I expect we’re in trouble now!” added Papa Black, putting his paws up to his open mouth. “I hope he doesn’t come after us again as we run home to all the other yummy otters and delicious beavers!”

  The otters paused for a moment and watched the mountain lion take it all in, just to make sure he’d take the bait and give chase. For a moment he frowned at them, trying to work out why they were acting so strangely. Then he lifted his head and roared, before bounding after the otters with all his might.

  “Off we go, then!” chirped Papa Brown, turning tail, along with Papa Black. “And let’s hope that little beaver, Chip, knows what he’s talking about!”

  They raced back the way they had come, bounding through the undergrowth, moving like black and brown bolts of lightning. When they reached the edge of the forest, they gave a signal to the others, waiting on the riverbank below, to indicate that the big cat was on his way. Everyone took their positions, just as Papa Black and Papa Brown dived off the edge of the slope and hit the top of the mudslide on their bellies.

  The mudslide was at the back of Cottonwood Lodge. It zigzagged down the bank, before ending in a steep wooden ramp at the water’s edge. The mountain lion had no idea the slide was there, so when he leapt after the fleeing otters he landed on his bottom and skidded after them at high speed.

  Papa Brown and Papa Black zoomed expertly down the mudslide and hit the ramp at the same time, soaring through the air and diving into the water. But, just before the lion reached the ramp, Woody and Sooty sprang out of hiding and went to work, pulling a heavy wooden lever that dropped a catapult cup in its place. The creature’s world turned upside down and, before he knew what had happened, he slid into the cup and spun like a top.

  It took a few seconds for the big cat to stop spinning, and when he did he was sitting in front of the brave pups, who waved goodbye as they pulled another lever that launched him back into the air again.

  “YEEAAAW!” screeched the mountain lion, flying towards the river.

  Cats – even the giant variety with massive paws – don’t like water. So, after a big splash, he quickly bounded back up the bank and on to a sloping deck made from rows of smooth logs. But, the moment he set a paw on the deck, the logs spun round and, no matter how fast he ran, he stayed on the same spot, like training on a treadmill.

  “Bring on the rain of pain!” yelled Twiggy, standing on a rock.

  Out in the river the young otters, Chestnut, Nutmeg, Storm, Shadow and Jet, were poised next to floating baskets filled with twigs and small stones. At the beaver’s signal they began to toss handfuls of debris through the air and, using her tail as a bat, Twiggy hurled them inland at the mountain lion.

  “YEAW! YEAW! YEAW!” he yelled as the mini missiles rained down.

  The sticks and stones were only small and bounced off the startled cat as he struggled on the spinning logs. Before long, though, some of the stones got lodged in the gaps, jamming the contraption long enough for him to leap off. The lion hit land, turned and snarled angrily. He sniffed and searched for any otters or beavers close by. Twiggy had already vanished and the young otter pups were safe in the water. The only one out in the open now was Grandma Maple!

  “Oh, please have mercy, Mister Mountain Lion,” she sighed, clasping her paws together as she stood quivering beside a bush, a little way up the bank. “I am but a poor, elderly otter.”

  The big cat growled menacingly and charged at Grandma Maple, not realising that her paws were clasped round another wooden leaver. This lever released another catapult, which showered the ground between them with broken clamshells.

  “YEAW! YEAW! YEAW!” yelled the mountain lion again as he landed on the sharp shells, springing up and down like a cat on a hot tin roof.

  Grandma Maple made a speedy getaway and was swiftly replaced by Mama Brown and Mama Black, who eyed the animal up and down with fierce disapproval.

  “If you leave now that’ll be an end to it,” said Mama Brown.

  “But you must never come back here again,” added Mama Black.

  The mountain lion stopped springing, planted his paws on the sharp shells with a defiant wince and glared at the otters. Mountain lions don’t speak the same language as river mammals, although most animals can make themselves understood if they speak slowly and wave their paws about. The big cat understood the offer and responded by leaping towards them with a deafening roar.

  Mama Brown and Mama Black expected as much and hurried away, leading the pursuer up the bank to where Coco and Berry were waiting. By this point in time, the mountain lion had grown wise to the tricky otters, and looked about before approaching them, checking for levers and shells or things they might throw at him. But there was nothing except a strong smell of fish lingering in the air, so he made his way up the rocky slope towards the two grinning otters … and then abruptly slid straight down again as the pups released a glossy stream of fish oil. Coco
and Berry waved their greasy paws at him and then slicked back their fur triumphantly.

  The mountain lion scrambled frantically, trying his best to stop the downward slide, but he was entirely at the mercy of gravity. He slipped further towards the final contraption in the otters’ and beavers’ plan. Chip was there to pull the lever.

  Before the lion knew what was happening, a large wooden cage scooped him up and suspended him on the high end of a huge seesaw plank – the other end of which was weighted down with rocks.

  “YEEAAAW!” the lion bellowed angrily.

  “HOORAY!” cheered the otters as they swam to shore, or hurried out from their hiding places on the riverbank. The beavers could see the plan had been a success, but they were not yet relaxed enough to rejoice with their neighbours.

  “You did it!” yelled Woody and Sooty, and immediately dashed over to Chip. The otter pups heaved the beaver kit up on their shoulders and did a lap of honour, plonking him down right in front of his dad.

  Chuck looked at his son and, being a beaver of very few words, he simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder. Chip had seen him do this with his sisters, usually after they’d finished building a new dam together, so he knew it was an enormous display of pride.

  “You’re a chip off the old block after all,” said Chuck, gazing up at the trapped lion. “You may not have the skills of a builder, but you obviously inherited my brains.”

  “I’ll remind you of that next time you get your teeth stuck in a tree trunk and I have to pull you out by your tail!” laughed Twiggy. Then she gave Chip a big hug and added, “You are smarter than both of your silly parents put together. We never should have doubted you.”

  Chip’s sisters joined the family hug and the otters gathered round, smiling.

  “It’s not quite over yet,” warned Papa Brown, stepping up to the cage and frowning at its snarling contents. The mountain lion was suspended in the air and safely out of reach, but this didn’t stop the big cat from swiping his paws through the wooden bars.