About the Author
Catherine Trimby is retired and lives in rural Shropshire with her husband. She has five grandchildren. Badgers and foxes visit her garden nightly and their antics are caught on field cameras.
Also by this author
Badger and Crab’s Adventure
Badger and Crab to the Rescue
Josie
Badger and Crab
and the Flood
Catherine Trimby
Illustrations by Carol Davies Illustration
Copyright © 2018 Catherine Trimby
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
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ISBN 9781789012101
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
for
Fiona and Nicola
It is late spring and a lack of food unites the woodland animals. Badger, Mrs Badger and the twins are very hungry. It has been raining for days and days and nights and nights. All the worm fields are flooded and food is scarce. Wet weather also brings problems for Fox and Tawny Owl.
But wet weather doesn’t bother Crab. The seaside animals have plenty to eat.
Badger strays out of his normal territory to look for food. He finds he is stranded on the beach by a flooded stream and cannot get home before daylight. He is exhausted and in danger.
Can Crab help him to get home safely? Will Crab’s risky plan succeed and is Badger grateful? Will the woodland animals have to adapt their feeding habits to cope with climate change?
Loyalty and friendship are put to the test yet again.
Carol Davies’ illustrations cleverly capture the relationships between the woodland and seaside animals. Suitable for 7-9 year olds.
Badger frowned. He had just woken up and was not pleased to find his fur was wet. It shouldn’t be wet. There were lovely scratchy brown bracken fronds lining the bedroom where he and Mrs B and the twins slept. The bracken fronds should be dry. They were not dry. They were soggy and chilly and horrid. But there was no one to moan to as Mrs B and the twins had already gone out. She was teaching the twins to find food for themselves.
‘She should have woken me up,’ Badger muttered crossly to himself as he plodded to the doorway and shoved his snout out into the night air for a quick sniff. ‘She should have woken me up before I got wet.’ He quickly brought his snout inside again as it, too, was getting wet. Outside it was pouring with rain, again. He looked down at his paws: they were also wet. He noticed that there was a little stream of water running through the house from the top end under the earthy bank to the bottom end near the big beech tree. That’s why the bracken fronds were soggy. Badger looked at the water running through his home. ‘It’s too wet,’ he said sadly. He shook his paws one after another and then he shook his whole coat and drops of water splattered over the walls and dribbled down making the stream even bigger.
‘Bother,’ Badger said. He was hungry after his long day’s sleep and needed to find some food. He wondered where Mrs B had gone. Should he go and look for her and hope she had found some supper that he could share, or should he go foraging on his own?
He left his house and scurried quickly to the big beech tree where he stopped to sharpen his claws on the bark. Then he set off through the brambly undergrowth towards the path that led up the hill into the woods and on to the worm field or, if you went the other way, downwards to the beach. Which way should he go? He decided to go up the path and hope that maybe Mrs B had also gone that way and they could hunt together. Eight paws were better at digging for worms than four paws, he thought. He didn’t count the twins as they didn’t know how to share yet and their digging skills weren’t much good either.
It was very dark in the woods and there was no sign of Moon. She didn’t like the rain and usually stayed in bed on wet nights. Badger raised his nose in the air and sniffed. He couldn’t smell anything or anyone. Maybe everyone was still asleep. He sighed in a lonely sort of way; it would have been nice to have someone to talk to on such a miserable night, even if it was only Grey Squirrel. But she hated having wet fur and Tawny Owl hated having wet feathers, which only left Fox, and Badger couldn’t smell him nearby. ‘Hey ho,’ he said, ‘seems I’m on my own.’
Badger hadn’t gone very far up the path when he stopped in alarm. There was a roaring sound coming from ahead of him. Then he saw that a few metres further on a stream had overflowed onto the path. It had turned into a gushy, gurgly torrent that rushed towards him before sploshing over the side of the path and down into the ferny hollow below, swirling angrily on its way to the sea. He climbed onto higher ground above the path and looked at the foaming brown water. It was stopping him from reaching the worm field. He didn’t think he could paddle through it. He would be swept off his paws and would plunge down the bank. Then he really would be wet. He sat down heavily on an anthill to think.
‘Water is wet.’ A growly voice came from behind him. ‘Water is very wet, and there’s a lot of it about tonight.’
It was Fox. He was sitting further up the bank watching Badger. The rain had turned Fox’s fur from a chestnut colour to black. His ears were twitching backwards and forwards.
‘This is a new stream, where’s it come from?’ Badger was puzzled.
‘The proper stream has overflowed further up in the field. This water has come from there,’ Fox told him. ‘It’s a big raging flood and I’m not going to try and cross it.’
‘Nor me.’ Badger sighed. ‘Have you seen Mrs B and the twins tonight? I was on my way to find them.’
Fox shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen anyone. It’s too rainy. I wonder when it will stop. It’s been raining for days and days and days now. Even the rabbits are staying indoors. I did catch a frog earlier, he likes this weather. But no-one else does.’ He looked miserable.
‘Slugs like it,’ said Badger as he watched a big fat black Dusky slug that just happened to be slithering slimily across the path in front of him. He carefully scooped it up with his paw and swallowed it whole. It made a very small first course but was better than nothing.
‘Slugs and snails and frogs. That’s about it.’ Fox sounded even gloomier. ‘I’m giving up and going home to get warm and dry. See you soon, Badger. Good hunting.’ He got up and loped away through the trees.
Badger glanced over his shoulder at Fox as he disappeared into the blackness of the wood. He was tempted to give up and go home too, but he decided to scramble up along the side of the new stream until he found a place where he could wade safely across. Soon he reached the worm field and was pleased to see that Mrs B and the twins were there. The ground was so waterlogged that lots of the worms had poked their heads up to escape the water and it was easy
to catch them. So they all had a good supper and then found another way home avoiding the flood.
‘I think,’ Mrs B said to Badger when they reached the safety of the sett, ‘that the worm field won’t be any use tomorrow night if this rain doesn’t stop. The ground’s getting too boggy and the worms will burrow down too deep for us to dig them up.’
‘I’m afraid you might be right,’ Badger nodded. ‘We’ll have to see. Meantime can we find a dry place to sleep today at the far end of the bedroom, do you think?’ They all scuttled inside and curled up together on higher ground as far away as possible from the soggy bracken bed.
* * *
The next evening it was still raining when Badger got up and looked outside. Mrs B hadn’t gone hunting yet. She was looking worried and the twins were complaining that their tummies were rumbling.
‘You remember the pony field?’ Badger asked Mrs B.
She nodded, ‘Do you mean across the big stream down on the beach and past the alder trees?’
‘Yes.’ Badger went on, ‘it used to be very good for worms. If I cross the stream on the beach it shouldn’t be too difficult. I’ll go and see. If the field looks promising I’ll come back and tell you. Then we can all go.’
Mrs B didn’t look very sure about the plan, but as she didn’t have a better one, and they were all hungry, she agreed that Badger should go and look.
He left the sett and paused under the beech tree to sniff and listen. There was a scuffling sound from a branch high up in the tree and then Grey Squirrel zoomed nose first down the trunk until she was just above him but out of paws’ reach.
‘Get away from my nut store, get away, Badger.’ Her tail was twitching furiously.
Badger tried not to smile. Her fur was clinging so closely to her body that she looked just like a drowned rat, but he thought it would be tactless to say so.
‘I don’t want your nuts, you know that,’ he said instead and trundled off towards the beach. Squirrel whizzed up the tree again and did some aerobatics from tree to tree, following him and chattering noisily.
‘Go away. Go away. Go away.’
‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ Badger called up to her as patiently as he could. ‘If you stopped following me I would soon be gone.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘To find some supper.’
‘Will there be nuts?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’ Grey Squirrel did two backward rolls then a forward paw spring before landing on a hazel branch close to Badger’s nose. ‘If you see any nuts will you let me know? My stores are going mouldy in this rain.’
‘I’ll keep an eye out,’ Badger promised.
Squirrel did a cartwheel onto a low-hanging ash tree branch and disappeared.
Fortunately for Badger the tide was out when he reached the beach. The stream that ran down beside the rocks was very swollen with floodwater but it splayed out over the sand and wasn’t too deep to cross. He carefully tip-pawed into the water. It reached up to his tummy and the current was quite fierce, but he soldiered on and was soon on the other side. When he clambered out he realised that he hadn’t thought to see if Crab was around. It would have been good to have a quick chat. Maybe there’d be time on the way home. He would give Crab a shout when he came back.
Badger scrambled up the rocks at the side of the beach. They were slippery with the rain and he had difficulty getting over them. By now he was wet through, but he knew he had still got quite a way to go to reach the pony field and he needed to get a move on as Mrs B and the twins were waiting to hear if there would be any supper tonight. He had another shake and then trotted on. He remembered his Aunt May saying, ‘the early badger catches the worm.’
The path was very overgrown and he had to work hard to get through the brambles. Then it wound its way back into the wood where the going was easier. Badger stopped for a moment to catch his breath and check all was clear. He was just about to go on again when a sudden movement under some ferns caught his attention. He raised his front right paw, claws outstretched, ready to strike at an enemy; his night-vision eyes glued to the movement of the fern.
‘Who’s there?’ Badger growled.
The ferns shook some more and then a brown head appeared with big front teeth and red eyes like little rubies shining in the darkness.
Badger stood his ground.
‘This is my path,’ hissed Mrs Brown Rat baring her four big front teeth most ferociously at Badger. She coiled herself up into a tight ball, ready to spring at him and sink her wicked teeth right into his furry neck. Her long naked tail thrashed backwards and forwards.
Badger took a step back. He had eaten many rats in his life but had never met one as cross as Mrs Rat seemed to be. He didn’t think he wanted to pick a fight with her right now. He lowered his paw and tried to be friendly.
‘Hello, Mrs Rat,’ he said soothingly. ‘What a horrid night. I’m just passing through; I’ll be gone in a moment. Good hunting.’ He tried to edge past her but she blocked his way.
‘Oh no, you don’t.’ She put up her front paws ready to box his face. ‘Go back where you belong. You’re not wanted here. This is my territory.’ Her tail lashed more furiously and the hair on her body stood up in angry spikes.
Badger thought quickly. Maybe if he offered to share any worms he caught she would let him through without a fight.
‘I’m sorry you’re so cross, I expect it’s because you’re hungry. Have you got a big family waiting for supper, then? I know how worried that makes a person feel. Mrs B and the twins are waiting for me to find supper for all of us. If I find some worms shall I let you know? I might even catch a mouse that I could bring you. Hunting is so difficult in this weather, isn’t it?’ He spoke calmly to her as he drew level and smiled kindly.
Mrs Rat slowly put her front paws down. She made a sort of clicking noise in her throat. Badger was much bigger than she was and she knew it was not really a good idea to make him angry.
‘My family’s drowned,’ she said sadly and wiped away a tiny tear from her right eye. ‘The flood has washed away my house and all my babies with it. We had such a nice house on the side of the stream, under the alder tree roots. But the water came and it’s all gone. My babies have all drowned.’
Badger stopped. Mrs Rat looked so upset. He shook his head in a comforting sort of way.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I wish I could help.’
Mrs Rat shook her head too. ‘Thank you, Badger. I’m sorry I was rude. You do understand, don’t you?’ She twitched her whiskers anxiously.
Badger nodded. He watched as Mrs Rat turned and crawled away back under the ferns by the side of the path. If only it would stop raining, he thought.
* * *
Crab had seen Badger when he crossed the stream on the beach. He had been playing a game of hide and seek with some shrimps in one of his favourite rock pools. He had been enjoying himself so much that he didn’t want to stop and talk to Badger just at that moment. The shrimps hadn’t thought it was much fun, though. They had done all the hiding and Crab had done all the seeking. Every time Crab found a shrimp under the seaweed where they had hidden he ate it. The shrimps didn’t think it was a very fair sort of game. But now there were no more shrimps to catch, so they couldn’t complain any more.
Crab felt bored once he had eaten all the shrimps, so he left his pool and sidled towards the flooded stream, but Badger had long gone. ‘I wonder where he was going?’ Crab said to himself. ‘Perhaps I should go and see? The tide will come in soon and maybe Badger won’t be able to get back and, anyway, I need to talk to him. We were going to re-make our sprat pool now that spring has come.’ The fishing pool that Badger and Crab had made last summer had been washed away by the high tides and winter storms. The rainy weather didn’t bother Crab. ‘The wetter the better,’ he thought. It kept the Moonfaces away. Badge
r called them people but Crab thought ‘Moonfaces’ was a better name. Some Moonfaces had been on the beach that morning, pulled across the sand on leads by their dogs. Crab didn’t like dogs any more than he liked Moonfaces, but if the dogs were busy pulling the Moonfaces then they weren’t so busy sticking their furry faces into other people’s rock pools and upsetting beach life.
‘I’ll just cross over,’ Crab went on talking to himself as he reached the stream, ‘and then I can find a nice rock to sit on and wait for Badger to come back.’ Even he found it was hard work to get across the swollen stream. He kept being washed towards the sea by the gushing brown torrent and had to use all eight legs and both pincers to haul himself to the other side. Big stones crashed past him, nearly breaking his legs, and he decided that when he came back it would be easier to swim into the sea and do a big loop round rather than face this bombardment again. Breathlessly he crawled up the bank and looked for a big rock where he could hide and wait for Badger to return. He found the right sort of rock. It had a good deep crack near the top and he carefully eased himself into the crack, dislodging a few limpets on the way. He settled down where he could keep a careful eye on the path that led from the beach into the wood. The rain poured down but Crab didn’t mind. He was feeling rather itchy as the stream had swept lots of sand inside his shell but now the rain was washing the sand out nicely. He sang a little song to pass the time.
I’m a crab,
A mighty fine crab,
I live by the sea
Where I’m happy and free.
I like shrimps for supper,
Badger and Crab and the Flood Page 1