by Alan Skinner
Crimson dived from the bridge the instant Dot fell. She entered the water a split second after the girl. An icy shock hit her but she fought the cold and the current, trying to bring her body back to the surface. Her hands searched for the Dot as she pushed herself upwards. She had to find her now or the young girl would be swept away, beyond help.
Almost at the same moment that Crimson dived into the river, Miniver raced along the riverbank. She ran with long, undulating strides, faster than she had ever run before. She made for a spot a little way downriver, where the bank flattened and became level with the water. Crimson and Dot would need help getting out of the river and she would be there, waiting. It never occurred to Miniver that Crimson would surface without Dot.
Dot wondered how her heart could be on fire when she was so cold. ‘Why is there no air anywhere? Am I going away now?’ The words drifted through her mind unbidden. ‘I’m so cold … Let me not be cold …’ And Dot gave herself up to the river.
Crimson’s hand closed around Dot’s pack. Her back arched and her legs kicked at the water as she fought to get to the surface. She felt her strength leaving her. Her lungs screamed and the cold froze her muscles. She kicked again, and felt the sun on her face and air rush into her lungs. She breathed in, swallowing almost as much water as precious air, pulling Dot’s face into the air at the same time. The young girl stayed limp in her arms.
Crimson caught sight of Miniver leaping into the river just ahead. In a few seconds she would shoot past her friend, swept along by the current until her strength went completely and then she and Dot would drown in the freezing river. The air, and the sight of Miniver, gave Crimson a surge of strength. It would be useless to try and swim directly across the strong flow of the river. Instead, Crimson rode the current, veering towards Miniver as she was pulled along.
Miniver strained against the water that punched into her chest. Her powerful legs churned the water, fighting the force of the river. She could feel herself being pushed back towards the bank. Harder, she tried, her four legs moving faster still. It was her heart, not her legs, that beat the river. Slowly, she moved against the current, towards Crimson and the young girl she held in her arm.
Miniver would have one chance. Crimson hadn’t been able to come close enough. The water had carried her too quickly and she was going to be swept past the bear, a hand’s breadth away. Miniver reached with open jaws just as Crimson was racing past. Her teeth closed around Crimson’s shirt collar and she swung her head downriver as Crimson grabbed hold of the bear’s thick fur. Miniver felt her friend’s hand, and she made for the riverbank.
Even before Crimson had found Dot deep in the river, the sledge was safely back on the bridge. The four had left it and raced downriver to where Miniver was emerging from the water. Copper and Grunge took hold of Dot. They took the pack from her back and laid her gently on the grassy bank. Dot’s face and hands were blue. There was no pulse, no trace of breath.
Crimson dropped to her knees beside Dot. She cleared the water from the young girl’s mouth, then pinched her nose and breathed into her mouth. Crimson did more than try to breathe life into Dot; she willed the force of her life to flow into the apprentice.
Miniver sat close to Crimson and watched while she worked to revive the still young girl. Aunt Mag ran to fetch something warm and dry. Copper and Grunge sprinted back up the riverbank to the sledge. The ground just beyond the crude bridge was clear and flat. In a few minutes, they had a fire started. Dot would need warmth and rest when Crimson revived her. ‘When,’ Copper kept muttering to himself. ‘When, not if.’ There was still a couple of hours of daylight left but they would have to camp here.
A spasm shook Dot’s body. She coughed and retched, then opened her eyes. For a few moments, she couldn’t make sense of anything. She could still feel the water enveloping her, filling her. She breathed deeply, then coughed as her lungs rid themselves of yet more water. Clarity came into her eyes and she tried to speak but all she could do was cough.
Copper stood beside Aunt Mag. ‘We’ve pitched the tent.’ He bent and scooped his apprentice in his arms and carried her into the tent. Aunt Mag picked up Dot’s sodden pack and then patted Crimson’s arm. ‘Come, you’d better get out of those wet clothes,’ she said gently. They followed Copper into the tent.
‘Now scoot,’ Aunt Mag ordered Copper. ‘We’ll take care of her.’ she held Dot’s dripping pack. ‘We’ll need to borrow something for her to wear while we get her clothes dry.’ She dropped the pack and shouted, ‘Brian! Brian, come here!’
Brian’s head appeared between the flaps of the tent, a worried look on his face. ‘Um, yes, Aunt Mag?’
‘You’re nearly her size, Brian. See what you have that she can wear tonight while her things dry.’ It wasn’t a request. Aunt Mag watched the head nod, then disappear.
Brian’s mind raced. What did he have? Yes, they’d do. It was only for one night, after all. He ran to his pack and dug deep inside, drew out a fold of clothing and hurried back to the tent.
‘Ahem ... Aunt Mag …’
Aunt Mag’s head appeared between the flaps of the tent. Brian held out the clothing. Aunt Mag’s hand shot out through the flaps and took the clothes. Head and hand shot back inside the tent. Brian stood there for a moment. He was about to go when Aunt Mag’s head appeared once more through the flaps of the tent. She stared hard at Brian for a moment, then her head disappeared back inside. Brian sighed and went looking for the others. He didn’t care who. Just someone who didn’t sound quite so much like Bligh right now.
Copper was dragging the sledge to the camp site. A short distance away, Miniver had found a patch of grass lit by the afternoon sun. She sat in the middle, letting the sun dry her fur. Grunge stood next to her. He had found a cloth and was helping the sun do its work. ‘That looks like a shirt,’ thought Brian. If it was, he decided, it was the least anyone could do for Miniver. He could hear Grunge talking to Miniver, and the low growling of her responses.
Brian helped Copper with the sledge, then the two of them walked over to the Muddles. Copper stopped in front of Miniver for a moment, then hugged her wet neck. He stepped back, his eyes filled with gratitude, then hugged her again.
‘Thank you, Miniver,’ he said, and turned and walked away.
Brian stared at the bear. She cocked her head, looking at the little Beadle. Brian wasn’t too sure what to say. He still wasn’t used to talking to an animal as if they were a person. Finally, he found his tongue.
‘That was a very brave thing you did, Miniver. Very brave,’ was all he said, but it was enough.
Aunt Mag and Crimson emerged from the tent, their arms full with wet clothes. The others hurried over.
‘How’s Dot?’ growled Miniver. She nudged Crimson. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Dot will be just fine,’ Crimson told everyone. She smiled at Miniver. ‘I’m fine now that I’m warm again. You saved my life, Miniver. Thank you.’
‘Calamity would never forgive me if I didn’t look after you,’ said Miniver. ‘But it was you who saved Dot. Now, I think Copper wants to hug you.’
Which is exactly what Copper wanted to do, and did.
‘Now, Grunge,’ said Aunt Mag, ‘who do you suppose I can find to put up a rope for me so I can hang these out to dry?’ Grunge supposed correctly and had soon rigged a line for the wet clothes.
Dot slept. Her sleep was fitful and filled with dreams of the cold dark water. She woke from her sleep about hour before the sunset. Her body ached and she longed to sleep but the voices she heard outside sounded comforting and she rose and went to join her companions.
The others were sitting around the fire, in pleasant and inconsequential conversation. Miniver lay at Crimson’s feet, dozing. The light of the fading sun fell directly on the tent and they saw Dot wander over on uncertain legs. They smiled, warm welcoming, happy smiles, when they saw the young apprentice. Copper and Grunge stared at Dot, then stared at Brian.
Dot was dressed in a pair
of bright yellow pyjamas, decorated with little pictures of bright red buses.
They fussed over the young girl. They made a seat for her from a log they dragged near the fire. They asked if she was warm, if she was hungry, if she felt OK. More than the sleep or the fire, it was the concern and affection of her companions that restored her. Crimson came and sat next to her on the log. Dot looked at Home’s fire officer. Without speaking, she put her arms around Crimson’s neck and held onto her. It was a very long hug, the sort that Dot had almost forgotten. Finally, she took her arms from Crimson’s neck. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. And hugged the Muddle again.
‘You should thank Miniver. She pulled us both from the river,’ said Crimson. Dot slipped from the log and knelt next to Miniver, threw her arms around her neck, and cried.
‘Time to eat,’ said Aunt Mag brusquely, trying to remove the lump that had appeared in her throat.
Darkness had come by the time they had eaten their dinner. Dot sat between Miniver and Crimson. The firelight danced on the little red buses and turned the yellow to orange. The silence of contented people fell on them. Dot stared at the fire and for the first time in so long, she felt she was wanted.
Her eyes drifted to her legs, yellow legs, dotted with red buses. It was nice of Brian to lend her his pyjamas. It really was. ‘But these are so not cool!’ she couldn’t help thinking.
They went to sleep early that night. Dot closed her eyes, listening to Miniver snoring outside the tent. Within seconds, she drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.
*
Shortly after sunrise the next day, Grunge was squatting by the fire, making coffee. Miniver sat next to him, watching him measure the grains of coffee into the pot. He could hear the others in the tent, rising from their sleeping bags. All but Copper, who seemed to have disappeared.
‘Well, he must have been very quiet to get past you, Miniver,’ said Grunge, balancing the coffee pot on two stones in the middle of the fire. ‘He can’t have gone far, though. He knows we need to make an early start.’
Aunt Mag, Crimson and Dot came out of the tent, chatting and laughing. They headed downriver to wash their faces. Miniver looked at Grunge, who grinned and patted his friend. ‘Go on, Miniver. Join the other ladies.’ Miniver broke into a rolling run and soon caught up with the others.
Next, Brian emerged, still looking sleepy. ‘Morning, Brian,’ said Grunge. ‘You’ll have to wait for a wash. Bathroom’s full.’
Brian looked blankly at Grunge, then understanding seeped through his waking brain and he returned Grunge’s smile.
‘Coffee will be ready in a minute,’ announced Grunge. He rummaged in his pack and sighed. It had only been two days, but already he was wishing for something other than dried fruit, cheeses and dried meat.
‘Where’s Copper?’ asked Brian.
Grunge shrugged. ‘Dunno. He was gone when I woke up. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.’
Brian hoped so. He felt a twinge of worry. Going on a journey was very stressful, he thought. Things were … unpredictable, and if there was one thing that Brian liked in his life, it was predictability. Well, predictability … and order, and neatness, and his fluffy bathrobe, and … lamingtons. He would be glad to get back to his organised office, with its rows of filing cabinets and drawers and folders with labels printed neatly on the spine.
Crimson, Dot, Aunt Mag and Miniver returned, cheeks pink (except Miniver – though her cheeks could have been pink under her fur) and still chatting and laughing. Grunge listened to them. It was a very good morning, he decided.
Footsteps came from the bridge and a few moments later Copper walked into the camp. In one hand he held a fishing line wrapped around a small piece of wood. From the other hand dangled four trout, scales still glistening.
‘I figured that pool near the second waterfall would be a good place for fishing,’ he said.
Copper went over to Miniver and laid the four fish in front of her. ‘For you,’ he said and turned towards the tent. Miniver looked down at the fresh fish, then looked at Copper’s retreating back. She gave a low, growling yelp and bounded after him. A sharp, playful nudge of her head sent the engineer sprawling on the grass. Miniver stood astride him. Her long tongue flicked out and licked his nose.
‘Thank you, Copper,’ she growled and gave him another lick. Then she wheeled round and went back to her fish and had a very nice breakfast.
Dot returned Brian’s pyjamas. ‘Thank you, Brian,’ she said politely. ‘They are very … um, very … warm.’
‘You’re welcome, Dot,’ Brian replied, wishing he was in bed at home wearing them that very minute.
They breakfasted, struck the tent and cleaned the camp, leaving no trace they had been there. Miniver was harnessed once again to the sledge, they put their packs on their backs, and headed east into the rising sun.
Chapter 12
The Mountain Trail
The day proved uneventful, but tiring. By mid-afternoon they had crossed the next peak. Although the sun continued to shine, the air was cold, and mittens, gloves, scarves and thick jackets were taken from their packs. A light coating of icy snow crunched underfoot.
From the eastern slope of the peak they could see the blue-tinged snowfield that lay on the other side of the next mountain. As they drew closer to the final mountain, they could also see that it was the most formidable they had yet encountered. Its snow-covered sides were steep, sheer rock that would be impossible to climb.
‘If we don’t find a pass through that peak and the one to the south, we’ll never get to the snowfield,’ said Grunge. ‘Even without the sledge it would be almost impossible.’ Of course, they were not experienced mountaineers and what appeared impossible to them would have been child’s play for true climbers. Nonetheless, they had as much heart and courage as the hardiest mountaineers and so they pressed on.
The travellers veered slightly south, aiming for the point between the two peaks. Despite travelling downhill, progress was becoming slower. The snow had deepened and Miniver strained to pull the sledge. Copper watched the tyres sink into the snow and called a halt.
Asking Grunge and Crimson to unhitch Miniver, Copper and Dot set about replacing the tyres with the runners that would glide on the surface of the snow. The Beadles and the Muddles watched with admiration as the ingenious Myrmidots went about their work. Within minutes, the wheeled sledge became a graceful sleigh.
Miniver approved of the change. The sledge easily skimmed over the surface of the icy snow. Miniver marvelled at how light it was, and she increased her stride, stretching her strong legs as she picked up speed. Her wide paws were like snow shoes, and she soon left her companions behind. The slope grew icier and more slippery but the sledge seemed to barely touch the surface. Faintly, she thought she heard someone call her name but it faded in the wind rushing past her ears and she continued to race downhill.
Copper watched Miniver speed down the icy slope. He and Dot exchanged a knowing look.
‘What were you trying to tell her?’ asked Crimson, feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
‘Oh, nothing much,’ said Copper, smiling. ‘Just that pulling the sledge is the easy part. It’s stopping it that gets tricky.’
Miniver was halfway down the long slope, the others far behind. ‘I’d better wait for them,’ she decided. And she braced her legs to stop.
She didn’t, of course. Her paws skimmed over the icy slope and Miniver continued sliding down. Determined to stop, she dug in her hind legs until she was sitting on the cold surface, trying to brake with the claws of her fore paws. She felt a jolt as she hit a small bump and her weight shifted, spinning her round, while the sledge swung in a beautiful curve behind her. She could see her friends in the distance as she continued to slide backwards on her bottom, the sledge now in the lead.
The travellers stood and watched her disappear down the hill. Gradually, the slope flattened then rose in a long arc up the side of the far mountain. Miniver, still
facing them, slid into the dip and a short way up the opposite slope, then back down again, finally coming to rest at the bottom.
‘Well, that was quick,’ said Dot. She caught Aunt Mag’s eye. There was a gleam in that eye and she and Dot smiled at each other. Without a word to the others they ran a few paces down the slope then launched themselves on their stomachs, arms and legs splayed. Grunge, Crimson, Copper and Brian could hear their laughter echoing up the slope. With a yell of their own, they also threw themselves on their stomachs down the slope. All except Brian. The little Beadle hesitated, thinking it looked awfully undignified. But it did look fun. Brian gave a high-pitched yelp, then ran a few paces, ready to throw himself on his stomach and follow his friends. And slipped. His feet shot into the air in front of him and Brian landed flat on his back. Or rather, flat on his pack which, being large, made a very good sledge. Brian shot down the slope, arms and legs waving in the air, looking very much like a upside-down speeding turtle.
They all ended in a jumble of arms, legs and packs at the bottom of the slope in front of Miniver, who was doing her best to look as if nothing had happened.
Laughing, they dusted the snow from their clothes and went on. They aimed for the gap between the two peaks, hoping to find a way through. If they didn’t find a way, they would have to keep moving south.
They travelled on. Their legs, unused to walking in snow, grew tired. Occasionally, one would slip and stumble. Sooner than they would have liked, they needed to stop for a short rest. All but Dot slumped in the snow. The young apprentice disappeared into the woods.
Dot’s companions were beginning to get worried when she emerged from the trees carrying a bundle of long, stout poles.
‘These might help,’ she said, handing half to Copper. ‘We can pull with our arms as well.’ She took out her knife. ‘If we sharpen the ends, they’ll work better, I think.’