by Emily Rodda
Ickle grabs the fork halves and gobbles them up. CRUNCH, CRACK, CRUNCH!
‘Incredible!’ whispers Ranger Katz. Her eyes bulge as she watches Ickle starting on the golden plate.
‘There, you see?’ cries Bunchy, flourishing the wand. ‘I’m perfectly in control – ’
The tip of the wand dips and hits the book lying open on the table. The next moment, Strange Beasts is a solid lump of gold.
‘Puh!’ says Tawny.
‘H-how did that happen?’ Bunchy stammers, going red all over again. ‘I didn’t say the spell!’
‘You don’t need a spell!’ Monty shouts. ‘I’ve told you before, Bunchy – the wand follows your thoughts! Put gold out of your mind! Make yourself think about the book as it was before, so you can change it back. We can’t read it like – oh, no!’
‘Ickle, ickle, ICKLE!’ The baby’s bouncing round the table, licking his lips. Before anyone can move he’s bitten the book into four pieces and swallowed the pieces whole.
There’s a stunned silence.
‘Well,’ says Marigold at last. ‘That’s the end of that!’
Bunchy bursts into tears. ‘Now we can’t read about how to get rid of the Oragoths!’ she sobs. ‘And it’s all my fault!’
‘True!’ Sir Wise hoots sternly.
‘They’re not just Oragoths!’ squeaks Ranger Katz. ‘They’re Giant Red-Winged Oragoths. They’re very, very, very rare. And you don’t need that book! I can tell you all about them. Just for a start, I can tell you why they’re here. They’re after that!’
She shines the torch on Ickle, who’s grown even bigger after his enormous meal.
‘Shiver me timbers!’ squawks Clink. ‘Arr, so that be our problem solved! All we got t’ do is roll the gold-guzzler out the door. Once them Origamis get a-hold of it an’ have a decent feed, they’ll be a-goin’ back to where they come from.’
‘You’ll take Ickle over my dead body!’ Bunchy squeals.
Clink scowls at her, lifts the edge of the tablecloth and peers under the table. ‘Ahoy, matey,’ he calls heartily. ‘I be a-needin’ a bit o’ muscle, here! Get yeself out an’ grab the gold-guzzler, will ye?’
‘Who’s under there?’ squeaks Ranger Katz. ‘Show yourself, in the name of the law!’
There’s a moment’s silence, then Elvis Eager crawls out from under the table, smoothing his moustache.
‘You!’ growls Ranger Katz, baring her teeth. ‘I might have known!’
Elvis Eager raises his eyebrows. ‘Have we met?’ he asks politely, touching the brim of his hat.
Ranger Katz turns her back on him. ‘I’m taking charge here,’ she snaps at everyone else. ‘I know what has to be done, and no one is to interfere. Giant Red-Winged Oragoths are protected by law. They must not be stopped from living as nature intended.’
She rushes to her pack and comes back with a strong leather lead looped at one end. She strides round the table to where Ickle sways, full of gold and looking rather sick. ‘You’re coming with me!’ she says grimly. ‘Once you’re outside, it won’t take long.’
The beasts on the roof scrabble and shriek. Monty feels cold inside. Elvis Eager groans. Clink laughs. Marigold claps her hand over her mouth. Sir Wise hoots dismally.
‘No!’ Bunchy whimpers. ‘You can’t feed little Ickle to those monsters! You can’t!’
Ranger Katz isn’t listening. ‘Steady, now,’ she says to Ickle. Slowly she stands on her toes, the leather loop held wide in her hands, ready to slip over Ickle’s head.
‘Ickle!’ the baby chirps in a very small voice. Then, suddenly, he ducks away from the loop and runs as fast as his stubby little legs will carry him. He reaches the trunk of the Signal Tree and starts to climb.
‘No, no, no!’ Clicking her tongue crossly, Ranger Katz darts after him, but before she can reach the tree Bunchy catches her and pulls her back.
‘Climb higher, Ickle!’ Bunchy shrieks, holding on tightly as the Ranger struggles to break free. ‘Get away from her!’
‘I warned you not to interfere,’ cries Ranger Katz, showing her teeth. ‘Release me to do my duty, or you will be very, very, very sorry! And drop that wand, now!’
She tries to bat the wand out of Bunchy’s grip. There’s a flash and a puff of smoke. And when the smoke clears, Ranger Katz has gone, and in her place is a golden statue that looks exactly like Ickle.
Bunchy screams and drops the wand. The Ickle statue that used to be Ranger Katz gleams softly in the light of the lantern.
‘Oh dear,’ says Marigold.
‘I didn’t mean to do it!’ Bunchy babbles. ‘It just – happened! I was watching poor little Ickle and thinking it must be hard for him to climb after he’d eaten so much gold, and I was wishing that Ranger would hold still . . .’
‘She’s still enough now, all right,’ squawks Clink.
‘Ah well, she wasn’t exactly a pleasant type, was she?’ Elvis Eager says cheerfully. ‘I mean, wanting to feed the poor little chap to the Oragoths, and all that?’
Everyone looks up at the real Ickle clinging to the trunk of the Signal Tree. Ickle’s looking thoughtfully down at the gold statue. The tuft of bristles on his head is quivering.
Tawny growls warningly. Monty’s skin prickles. But to their relief, Ickle doesn’t move.
‘It’s all right,’ Bunchy whispers. ‘He won’t try to eat it. I think he’s full.’
‘For now,’ says Sir Wise.
‘Yes,’ says Monty, feeling rather sick. ‘Bunchy, you’d better change that statue back into Ranger Katz right now!’
‘I don’t think I can!’ Bunchy wails.
‘Of course you can!’ snaps Marigold. ‘Just clear your mind of everything else but Ranger Katz as she was before. You can do it, if you really want to.’
‘But I don’t want to,’ Bunchy says in a trembling voice. ‘If I change her back, she’ll feed little Ickle to the Oragoths.’ Everyone shudders, and as if he understands what’s being said, Ickle creeps a little higher.
‘But we can’t keep a Rare Beast Ranger as a statue forever!’ cries Marigold. ‘And if what she said is true, the Oragoths aren’t going to leave while Ickle’s here.’
‘So what to do?’ hoots Sir Wise.
Elvis Eager has been eyeing Ickle thoughtfully. He turns to look at the ladder leaning against the wall. ‘Easy-peasy!’ he says suddenly. ‘I’m big and strong enough to handle the little chap! I’ll use that ladder to get him down, then I’ll smuggle him off the Island in my canoe. When the Oragoths realise he’s gone, they’ll leave too. Then you can change Katz back into her nasty, boring self. Problem solved.’ He looks around, beaming, as if he’s waiting to be congratulated.
‘That’s all very well,’ snaps Marigold. ‘But how are we supposed to get Ickle out of here with those monsters watching from the roof?’
Elvis Eager smooths his moustache. ‘Yes, well, that’s the snag,’ he admits. ‘I thought one or two of you might volunteer to go outside and sacrifice yourselves to the Oragoths while the little chap and I sneak out the back way.’
‘Puh!’ says Tawny.
But while Elvis Eager’s been eyeing Ickle, Monty’s been gazing at the golden statue, and it’s given him an idea.
‘I’ve got a plan,’ he says. ‘It’s a bit dangerous, but I think it could work.’
‘How dangerous is this plan?’ Elvis Eager asks Monty nervously. ‘I mean, I’m terribly brave, as you know, but – ’
‘Just listen,’ says Monty. ‘We lure the Oragoths away from the Cafe by pretending we’re trying to escape. You stay here with Ickle. We make a run for it into the jungle – ’
‘What about the Hairy Horrible?’ Bunchy breaks in.
‘The-the Hairy what?’ Elvis Eager stammers, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
‘It’s a monster that lives in the jungle,’ Marigold tells him. ‘It’s savage, and it’s probably hungry after last night, too. But it usually sleeps in the daytime. We’ll just have to try not to wake it up. S
o . . . we run into the jungle. What then, Monty?’
‘Once we’re in the jungle,’ Monty goes on, ‘the Oragoths won’t be able to swoop down on us because the trees and vines are too thick. They’ll be able to catch sight of us now and then, though. So they’ll fly above us, following us, waiting for their chance to attack.’
‘Indeed they will,’ hoots Sir Wise.
‘Yes, and that’s the point. We’ll lead them far away from here. And while we’re doing that, Elvis Eager can get Ickle safely away.’
The Explorer tugs his moustache doubtfully. ‘What if this Hairy thing comes after me?’ he mumbles. ‘It sounds worse than the Oragoths.’
‘Oh, it is,’ Marigold agrees. ‘But if it does come after you, it won’t chase you far. It doesn’t like the beach.’
‘Oh, right!’ Elvis Eager says weakly.
‘I’ll come with ye, an’ give ye a hand at sea,’ Clink announces. ‘Me treasure chest’s dug up an’ ready to go.’
‘Oh, well, it’s very nice of you to offer,’ murmurs Elvis Eager, ‘but – ’
‘Arr, no need t’ thank me, matey,’ says Clink, puffing out his chest. ‘It breaks me heart to leave this here Island, but it be all in a good cause.’
‘Ho, ho!’ Sir Wise hoots in a hollow voice, and Marigold snorts. Monty and Tawny glance at each other but don’t say anything. They’ll both be quite pleased to see the last of Clink. Besides, the gold in the treasure chest will come in handy if Ickle gets hungry again, though Clink doesn’t seem to have thought of that.
Bunchy’s been watching sadly as Ickle creeps a little higher up the Signal Tree. ‘I’m sorry, Monty, but your plan won’t work,’ she says in a trembling voice. ‘The Oragoths won’t follow us while Ickle’s still in the Cafe. It’s Ickle they’re really after – Ranger Katz said so.’
Elvis Eager groans. ‘She’s right! Looks like we’ll have to go back to the sacrifice idea.’
‘No, we won’t,’ says Monty, patting the golden statue. ‘Ickle’s going to be with us – or at least it’s going to look that way. In fact, to the Oragoths it’s going to look as if there’s no one left in the Cafe at all!’
As everyone stares at him, he runs to get the Pick-up Sled. ‘Help me load the statue on here,’ he says. ‘Someone get Ranger Katz’s backpack. And you get undressed, Elvis Eager. We need your clothes.’
Soon afterwards, everything’s ready.
The Ickle statue is standing on the Pick-up Sled, looking very lifelike. A food basket, some of the driftwood and a few of Monty’s Finds from the beach are packed around the statue, so you can’t see that it’s tied in place by Ranger Katz’s leather lead.
Silent Sir Wise is also on the Sled, wearing a spare shirt and cap from Ranger Katz’s pack. He’s perched on top of the bundle of fishing net and his feet are hidden by a rug, so he looks much taller than he really is.
Marigold’s put on Elvis Eager’s Explorer clothes and hat, and has a stick-on moustache made out of the hairs from an old paintbrush.
Elvis Eager himself hasn’t helped at all. He’s spent the whole time in Marigold’s bedroom, trying to find something that will fit him. He finally comes out wearing flowery pyjamas and looking sulky. ‘I still don’t see why I had to give up my clothes,’ he complains. ‘I mean, these are very nice pyjamas and everything, but for a Famous Explorer – ’
‘The Oragoths saw six of us run into the Cafe,’ Monty explains patiently. ‘You, me, Tawny, Bunchy with Ickle – and Ranger Katz a bit later. They don’t know that Marigold and Sir Wise were already here.’
‘So?’
‘So, we’ve dressed up Marigold to look like you, and made Sir Wise look like Ranger Katz, and the statue looks like Ickle!’ Monty went on. ‘With a bit of luck, when we run out of here with the Pick-up Sled, the Oragoths will think we’re the same six who ran in. They’ll have no idea that the real you and the real Ickle have stayed behind. Right?’
‘If you say so,’ Elvis Eager mutters. He glances at Clink. ‘What about him?’
‘Clink was lying flat out on the Sled,’ says Marigold. ‘I doubt the Oragoths noticed him. But just in case they did . . .’ She points. A feather duster wrapped in a red-and-white striped tea towel is tucked among the other things on the Sled.
‘That’s so clever, Marigold!’ Bunchy says admiringly. ‘It looks just like him!’
‘Shut ye trap, Magician!’ snarls Clink.
‘Right,’ Monty says quickly to Elvis Eager, before an argument can break out. ‘We’ve put food and water in your wooden box, and the canoe paddle is waiting for you by the door. So all we have to do now is wish each other good luck.’
‘You’ll take good care of little Ickle, won’t you, Elvis Eager?’ Bunchy asks, her eyes filling with tears.
‘Don’t you worry about that.’ The Explorer puts his hand on his heart. ‘I’ll look after the little chap as if he’s the most priceless treasure in the Seven Seas.’
You can tell he means it. Bunchy smiles through her tears. She looks up to where Ickle clings high on the trunk of the Signal Tree, his head almost touching the towel stuffed into the leaky roof. ‘Goodbye, little Ickle,’ she whispers. ‘I’ll miss you, but I know this is best for you.’
‘Ickle!’ Ickle chirps softly, blinking down at her.
And then it’s time to go.
‘Well, good luck, Clink,’ says Marigold. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing you again.’
‘Won’t say it’s been nice knowin’ ye, ’cause it ain’t!’ squawks Clink.
Tawny pads to where the Explorer stands waiting to open the door. Monty and Marigold come next, pulling the loaded Sled with Bunchy pushing from behind.
‘We don’t have far to go,’ Monty whispers, ‘and the Oragoths will take a few seconds to take off. We just have to make a good start, then run as fast as we can. Ranger Katz made it coming the other way, and so can we.’
He takes a deep breath. ‘All right, guys? Ready! Set! GO!’
They shoot out the Cafe door like a swarm of Jinglebees making for a tasty beach towel. On the Cafe roof, the Oragoths shriek, but no one looks up. Everyone’s eyes are fixed on the green safety of the jungle.
Tawny’s in the lead, pounding through the long, wet grass and trampling it flat. Monty, Marigold and Bunchy run behind him with the Sled, following the track he’s made for them. The Cafe blocks the wind, so it’s no use putting up the sail, but with Bunchy pushing while Marigold and Monty pull, the Sled skims along even faster than Monty had hoped.
All too soon there’s the beating of wings above them, and the terrible, whining cries of the Oragoths are ringing in their ears. But still they don’t look up. They just keep running till all of a sudden they’re hurtling into the shade of the jungle, where the Oragoths can’t follow.
‘Hoo!’ gasps Sir Wise.
‘I had no idea I could run so fast!’ pants Marigold.
‘Me neither,’ says Bunchy. ‘I suppose it helps to be scared to death.’
The jungle’s still wet and dripping after the night of heavy rain. Through the leafy branches that stretch over their heads they can see two huge shadows, circling in the grey sky.
‘We’d better move on,’ says Monty. ‘Let’s just hope they follow.’
So, on they go, deeper into the jungle. And, high above them, the Oragoths do follow.
‘Your plan’s working, Monty,’ Marigold whispers, glancing up. ‘I can hardly believe we fooled them! These clothes of Elvis Eager’s are much too big for me. So is the hat. And as for this awful, tickly moustache – ’ She rubs her nose and sneezes violently.
‘They’re seeing us from above, remember,’ says Monty. ‘And of course it helps that it’s cloudy. The sun’s bound to come out later, but maybe by then it won’t matter.’
It’s hard work hauling the Sled through the thick jungle, but after a while they come upon a well-worn track and walking gets easier.
‘It’s lucky we found this path, isn’t it?’ says Bunchy.
�
�I’m not so sure,’ Monty whispers, and Tawny growls softly in agreement.
‘Too quiet,’ hoots Sir Wise from the Sled.
He’s right. The usual jungle sounds have died away. There are no bird calls, no scuttlings in the bushes.
‘I think we’d better keep quiet, too,’ Marigold breathes. ‘Something made this track, and uses it. It could be – ’
She breaks off with a little gasp. They’ve rounded a bend in the path. Ahead, there’s a dark cave. And drifting from the cave are a ghastly smell and the sound of deep, heavy breathing.
The awful truth strikes them all at once. They’re heading straight for the Hairy Horrible’s den!
‘Back?’ Sir Wise asks softly.
Monty looks up. The Oragoths are still flying above them, almost skimming the tops of the trees. They’re facing away from the Cafe. His plan’s working perfectly. He doesn’t want to turn back now.
He shakes his head, puts his finger to his lips, and moves on.
Slowly they tiptoe past the mouth of the cave. The Sled glides smoothly on the wet earth of the track. They’re almost safe when, without warning, Marigold sneezes, shattering the silence.
Everyone stops dead. The heavy breathing in the cave breaks off in a low, grumbling growl.
Monty stands frozen to the spot, holding his breath and fighting the urge to run. In front of him, Tawny’s so still that he looks like a lion statue. Marigold, Sir Wise and Bunchy aren’t moving a muscle either. They all know that the sound of running will wake the monster properly. Their only chance is absolute quiet.
In the cave there are a few more growls, and the thud of a heavy body turning over. And after what seems like hours, but is really only a minute or two, the heavy, even breathing starts again.