IV
MR. BADGER
They waited patiently for what seemed a very long time, stamping inthe snow to keep their feet warm. At last they heard the sound of slowshuffling footsteps approaching the door from the inside. It seemed,as the Mole remarked to the Rat, like some one walking in carpetslippers that were too large for him and down at heel; which wasintelligent of Mole, because that was exactly what it was.
There was the noise of a bolt shot back, and the door opened a fewinches, enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinkingeyes.
"Now, the _very_ next time this happens," said a gruff and suspiciousvoice, "I shall be exceedingly angry. Who is it _this_ time,disturbing people on such a night? Speak up!"
"Oh, Badger," cried the Rat, "let us in, please. It's me, Rat, and myfriend Mole, and we've lost our way in the snow."
"What, Ratty, my dear little man!" exclaimed the Badger, in quite adifferent voice. "Come along in, both of you, at once. Why, you mustbe perished. Well, I never! Lost in the snow! And in the Wild Wood,too, and at this time of night! But come in with you."
The two animals tumbled over each other in their eagerness to getinside, and heard the door shut behind them with great joy and relief.
The Badger, who wore a long dressing-gown, and whose slippers wereindeed very down at heel, carried a flat candlestick in his paw andhad probably been on his way to bed when their summons sounded. Helooked kindly down on them and patted both their heads. "This is notthe sort of night for small animals to be out," he said paternally."I'm afraid you've been up to some of your pranks again, Ratty. Butcome along; come into the kitchen. There's a first-rate fire there,and supper and everything."
He shuffled on in front of them, carrying the light, and theyfollowed him, nudging each other in an anticipating sort of way, downa long, gloomy, and, to tell the truth, decidedly shabby passage, intoa sort of a central hall, out of which they could dimly see other longtunnel-like passages branching, passages mysterious and withoutapparent end. But there were doors in the hall as well--stout oaken,comfortable-looking doors. One of these the Badger flung open, and atonce they found themselves in all the glow and warmth of a largefire-lit kitchen.
The floor was well-worn red brick, and on the wide hearth burnt a fireof logs, between two attractive chimney-corners tucked away in thewall, well out of any suspicion of draught. A couple of high-backedsettles, facing each other on either side of the fire, gave furthersitting accommodations for the sociably disposed. In the middle of theroom stood a long table of plain boards placed on trestles, withbenches down each side. At one end of it, where an arm-chair stoodpushed back, were spread the remains of the Badger's plain but amplesupper. Rows of spotless plates winked from the shelves of the dresserat the far end of the room, and from the rafters overhead hung hams,bundles of dried herbs, nets of onions, and baskets of eggs. It seemeda place where heroes could fitly feast after victory, where wearyharvesters could line up in scores along the table and keep theirHarvest Home with mirth and song, or where two or three friends ofsimple tastes could sit about as they pleased and eat and smoke andtalk in comfort and contentment. The ruddy brick floor smiled up atthe smoky ceiling; the oaken settles, shiny with long wear, exchangedcheerful glances with each other; plates on the dresser grinned atpots on the shelf, and the merry firelight flickered and played overeverything without distinction.
The kindly Badger thrust them down on a settle to toast themselves atthe fire, and bade them remove their wet coats and boots. Then hefetched them dressing-gowns and slippers, and himself bathed theMole's shin with warm water and mended the cut with sticking-plaster,till the whole thing was just as good as new, if not better. In theembracing light and warmth, warm and dry at last, with weary legspropped up in front of them, and a suggestive clink of plates beingarranged on the table behind, it seemed to the storm-driven animals,now in safe anchorage, that the cold and trackless Wild Wood just leftoutside was miles and miles away, and all that they had suffered in ita half-forgotten dream.
When at last they were thoroughly toasted, the Badger summoned them tothe table, where he had been busy laying a repast. They had feltpretty hungry before, but when they actually saw at last the supperthat was spread for them, really it seemed only a question of whatthey should attack first where all was so attractive, and whether theother things would obligingly wait for them till they had time to givethem attention. Conversation was impossible for a long time; and whenit was slowly resumed, it was that regrettable sort of conversationthat results from talking with your mouth full. The Badger did notmind that sort of thing at all, nor did he take any notice of elbowson the table, or everybody speaking at once. As he did not go intoSociety himself, he had got an idea that these things belonged to thethings that didn't really matter. (We know of course that he waswrong, and took too narrow a view; because they do matter very much,though it would take too long to explain why.) He sat in his arm-chairat the head of the table, and nodded gravely at intervals as theanimals told their story; and he did not seem surprised or shocked atanything, and he never said, "I told you so," or, "Just what I alwayssaid," or remarked that they ought to have done so-and-so, or oughtnot to have done something else. The Mole began to feel very friendlytowards him.
When supper was really finished at last, and each animal felt that hisskin was now as tight as was decently safe, and that by this time hedidn't care a hang for anybody or anything, they gathered round theglowing embers of the great wood fire, and thought how jolly it was tobe sitting up _so_ late, and _so_ independent, and _so_ full; andafter they had chatted for a time about things in general, the Badgersaid heartily, "Now then! tell us the news from your part of theworld. How's old Toad going on?"
"Oh, from bad to worse," said the Rat gravely, while the Mole, cockedup on a settle and basking in the firelight, his heels higher than hishead, tried to look properly mournful. "Another smash-up only lastweek, and a bad one. You see, he will insist on driving himself, andhe's hopelessly incapable. If he'd only employ a decent, steady,well-trained animal, pay him good wages, and leave everything to him,he'd get on all right. But no; he's convinced he's a heaven-borndriver, and nobody can teach him anything; and all the rest follows."
"How many has he had?" inquired the Badger gloomily.
"Smashes, or machines?" asked the Rat. "Oh, well, after all, it's thesame thing--with Toad. This is the seventh. As for the others--youknow that coach-house of his? Well, it's piled up--literally piled upto the roof--with fragments of motor-cars, none of them bigger thanyour hat! That accounts for the other six--so far as they can beaccounted for."
"He's been in hospital three times," put in the Mole; "and as for thefines he's had to pay, it's simply awful to think of."
"Yes, and that's part of the trouble," continued the Rat. "Toad'srich, we all know; but he's not a millionaire. And he's a hopelesslybad driver, and quite regardless of law and order. Killed orruined--it's got to be one of the two things, sooner or later. Badger!we're his friends--oughtn't we to do something?"
The Badger went through a bit of hard thinking. "Now look here!" hesaid at last, rather severely; "of course you know I can't do anything_now_?"
His two friends assented, quite understanding his point. No animal,according to the rules of animal etiquette, is ever expected to doanything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during theoff-season of winter. All are sleepy--some actually asleep. All areweather-bound, more or less; and all are resting from arduous days andnights, during which every muscle in them has been severely tested,and every energy kept at full stretch.
"Very well then!" continued the Badger. "_But_, when once the year hasreally turned, and the nights are shorter, and half-way through themone rouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up and doing bysunrise, if not before--_you_ know!--"
Both animals nodded gravely. _They_ knew!
"Well, _then_," went on the Badger, "we--that is, you and me and ourfriend the Mole here--we'll take Toad seriously in hand. We'll standn
o nonsense whatever. We'll bring him back to reason, by force if needbe. We'll _make_ him be a sensible Toad. We'll--you're asleep, Rat!"
"Not me!" said the Rat, waking up with a jerk.
"He's been asleep two or three times since supper," said the Mole,laughing. He himself was feeling quite wakeful and even lively, thoughhe didn't know why. The reason was, of course, that he being naturallyan underground animal by birth and breeding, the situation ofBadger's house exactly suited him and made him feel at home; while theRat, who slept every night in a bedroom the windows of which opened ona breezy river, naturally felt the atmosphere still and oppressive.
"Well, it's time we were all in bed," said the Badger, getting up andfetching flat candlesticks. "Come along, you two, and I'll show youyour quarters. And take your time to-morrow morning--breakfast at anyhour you please!"
He conducted the two animals to a long room that seemed halfbedchamber and half loft. The Badger's winter stores, which indeedwere visible everywhere, took up half the room--piles of apples,turnips, and potatoes, baskets full of nuts, and jars of honey; butthe two little white beds on the remainder of the floor looked softand inviting, and the linen on them, though coarse, was clean andsmelt beautifully of lavender; and the Mole and the Water Rat, shakingoff their garments in some thirty seconds, tumbled in between thesheets in great joy and contentment.
In accordance with the kindly Badger's injunctions, the two tiredanimals came down to breakfast very late next morning, and found abright fire burning in the kitchen, and two young hedgehogs sitting ona bench at the table, eating oatmeal porridge out of wooden bowls. Thehedgehogs dropped their spoons, rose to their feet, and ducked theirheads respectfully as the two entered.
"There, sit down, sit down," said the Rat pleasantly, "and go on withyour porridge. Where have you youngsters come from? Lost your way inthe snow, I suppose?"
"Yes, please, sir," said the elder of the two hedgehogs respectfully."Me and little Billy here, we was trying to find our way toschool--mother _would_ have us go, was the weather ever so--and ofcourse we lost ourselves, sir, and Billy he got frightened and tookand cried, being young and faint-hearted. And at last we happened upagainst Mr. Badger's back door, and made so bold as to knock, sir, forMr. Badger he's a kind-hearted gentleman, as every one knows--"
"I understand," said the Rat, cutting himself some rashers from a sideof bacon, while the Mole dropped some eggs into a saucepan. "Andwhat's the weather like outside? You needn't 'sir' me quite so much,"he added.
"O, terrible bad, sir, terrible deep the snow is," said the hedgehog."No getting out for the likes of you gentlemen to-day."
"Where's Mr. Badger?" inquired the Mole as he warmed the coffee-potbefore the fire.
"The master's gone into his study, sir," replied the hedgehog, "and hesaid as how he was going to be particular busy this morning, and on noaccount was he to be disturbed."
This explanation, of course, was thoroughly understood by every onepresent. The fact is, as already set forth, when you live a life ofintense activity for six months in the year, and of comparative oractual somnolence for the other six, during the latter period youcannot be continually pleading sleepiness when there are people aboutor things to be done. The excuse gets monotonous. The animals wellknew that Badger, having eaten a hearty breakfast, had retired to hisstudy and settled himself in an arm-chair with his legs up on anotherand a red cotton handkerchief over his face, and was being "busy" inthe usual way at this time of the year.
The front-door bell clanged loudly, and the Rat, who was very greasywith buttered toast, sent Billy, the smaller hedgehog, to see who itmight be. There was a sound of much stamping in the hall, andpresently Billy returned in front of the Otter, who threw himself onthe Rat with an embrace and a shout of affectionate greeting.
"Get off!" spluttered the Rat, with his mouth full.
"Thought I should find you here all right," said the Otter cheerfully."They were all in a great state of alarm along River Bank when Iarrived this morning. Rat never been home all night--nor Moleeither--something dreadful must have happened, they said; and the snowhad covered up all your tracks, of course. But I knew that when peoplewere in any fix they mostly went to Badger, or else Badger got toknow of it somehow, so I came straight off here, through the Wild Woodand the snow! My! it was fine, coming through the snow as the red sunwas rising and showing against the black tree-trunks! As you wentalong in the stillness, every now and then masses of snow slid off thebranches suddenly with a flop! making you jump and run for cover.Snow-castles and snow-caverns had sprung up out of nowhere in thenight--and snow bridges, terraces, ramparts--I could have stayed andplayed with them for hours. Here and there great branches had beentorn away by the sheer weight of the snow, and robins perched andhopped on them in their perky conceited way, just as if they had doneit themselves. A ragged string of wild geese passed overhead, high onthe grey sky, and a few rooks whirled over the trees, inspected, andflapped off homewards with a disgusted expression; but I met nosensible being to ask the news of. About half-way across I came on arabbit sitting on a stump, cleaning his silly face with his paws. Hewas a pretty scared animal when I crept up behind him and placed aheavy fore-paw on his shoulder. I had to cuff his head once ortwice to get any sense out of it at all. At last I managed to extractfrom him that Mole had been seen in the Wild Wood last night by one ofthem. It was the talk of the burrows, he said, how Mole, Mr. Rat'sparticular friend, was in a bad fix; how he had lost his way, and'They' were up and out hunting, and were chivvying him round andround. 'Then why didn't any of you _do_ something?' I asked. 'Youmayn't be blessed with brains, but there are hundreds and hundreds ofyou, big, stout fellows, as fat as butter, and your burrows running inall directions, and you could have taken him in and made him safe andcomfortable, or tried to, at all events.' 'What, _us_?' he merelysaid: '_do_ something? us rabbits?' So I cuffed him again and lefthim. There was nothing else to be done. At any rate, I had learntsomething; and if I had had the luck to meet any of 'Them' I'd havelearnt something more--or _they_ would."
_Through the Wild Wood and the snow_]
"Weren't you at all--er--nervous?" asked the Mole, some of yesterday'sterror coming back to him at the mention of the Wild Wood.
"Nervous?" The Otter showed a gleaming set of strong white teeth as helaughed. "I'd give 'em nerves if any of them tried anything on withme. Here, Mole, fry me some slices of ham, like the good little chapyou are. I'm frightfully hungry, and I've got any amount to say toRatty here. Haven't seen him for an age."
So the good-natured Mole, having cut some slices of ham, set thehedgehogs to fry it, and returned to his own breakfast, while theOtter and the Rat, their heads together, eagerly talked river-shop,which is long shop and talk that is endless, running on like thebabbling river itself.
A plate of fried ham had just been cleared and sent back for more,when the Badger entered, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and greetedthem all in his quiet, simple way, with kind inquiries for every one."It must be getting on for luncheon time," he remarked to the Otter."Better stop and have it with us. You must be hungry, this coldmorning."
"Rather!" replied the Otter, winking at the Mole. "The sight of thesegreedy young hedgehogs stuffing themselves with fried ham makes mefeel positively famished."
The hedgehogs, who were just beginning to feel hungry again aftertheir porridge, and after working so hard at their frying, lookedtimidly up at Mr. Badger, but were too shy to say anything.
"Here, you two youngsters, be off home to your mother," said theBadger kindly. "I'll send some one with you to show you the way. Youwon't want any dinner to-day, I'll be bound."
He gave them sixpence a-piece and a pat on the head, and they went offwith much respectful swinging of caps and touching of forelocks.
Presently they all sat down to luncheon together. The Mole foundhimself placed next to Mr. Badger, and, as the other two were stilldeep in river-gossip from which nothing could divert them, he took theopportunity to tell Badger how comfortable
and home-like it all feltto him. "Once well underground," he said, "you know exactly where youare. Nothing can happen to you, and nothing can get at you. You'reentirely your own master, and you don't have to consult anybody ormind what they say. Things go on all the same overhead, and you let'em, and don't bother about 'em. When you want to, up you go, andthere the things are, waiting for you."
The Badger simply beamed on him. "That's exactly what I say," hereplied. "There's no security, or peace and tranquillity, exceptunderground. And then, if your ideas get larger and you want toexpand--why, a dig and a scrape, and there you are! If you feel yourhouse is a bit too big, you stop up a hole or two, and there you areagain! No builders, no tradesmen, no remarks passed on you by fellowslooking over your wall, and, above all, no _weather_. Look at Rat,now. A couple of feet of flood water, and he's got to move into hiredlodgings; uncomfortable, inconveniently situated, and horriblyexpensive. Take Toad. I say nothing against Toad Hall; quite the besthouse in these parts, _as_ a house. But supposing a fire breaksout--where's Toad? Supposing tiles are blown off, or walls sink orcrack, or windows get broken--where's Toad? Supposing the rooms aredraughty--I _hate_ a draught myself--where's Toad? No, up and out ofdoors is good enough to roam about and get one's living in; butunderground to come back to at last--that's my idea of _home_!"
The Mole assented heartily; and the Badger in consequence got veryfriendly with him. "When lunch is over," he said, "I'll take you allround this little place of mine. I can see you'll appreciate it. Youunderstand what domestic architecture ought to be, you do."
After luncheon, accordingly, when the other two had settled themselvesinto the chimney-corner and had started a heated argument on thesubject of _eels_, the Badger lighted a lantern and bade the Molefollow him. Crossing the hall, they passed down one of the principaltunnels, and the wavering light of the lantern gave glimpses on eitherside of rooms both large and small, some mere cupboards, othersnearly as broad and imposing as Toad's dining-hall. A narrow passageat right angles led them into another corridor, and here the samething was repeated. The Mole was staggered at the size, the extent,the ramifications of it all; at the length of the dim passages, thesolid vaultings of the crammed store-chambers, the masonry everywhere,the pillars, the arches, the pavements. "How on earth, Badger," hesaid at last, "did you ever find time and strength to do all this?It's astonishing!"
"It _would_ be astonishing indeed," said the Badger simply, "if I_had_ done it. But as a matter of fact I did none of it--only cleanedout the passages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There'slots more of it, all round about. I see you don't understand, and Imust explain it to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where theWild Wood waves now, before ever it had planted itself and grown up towhat it now is, there was a city--a city of people, you know. Here,where we are standing, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept,and carried on their business. Here they stabled their horses andfeasted, from here they rode out to fight or drove out to trade. Theywere a powerful people, and rich, and great builders. They built tolast, for they thought their city would last for ever."
"But what has become of them all?" asked the Mole.
"Who can tell?" said the Badger. "People come--they stay for a while,they flourish, they build--and they go. It is their way. But weremain. There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that samecity ever came to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are anenduring lot, and we may move out for a time, but we wait, and arepatient, and back we come. And so it will ever be."
"Well, and when they went at last, those people?" said the Mole.
"When they went," continued the Badger, "the strong winds andpersistent rains took the matter in hand, patiently, ceaselessly, yearafter year. Perhaps we badgers too, in our small way, helped alittle--who knows? It was all down, down, down, gradually--ruin andlevelling and disappearance. Then it was all up, up, up, gradually, asseeds grew to saplings, and saplings to forest trees, and bramble andfern came creeping in to help. Leaf-mould rose and obliterated,streams in their winter freshets brought sand and soil to clog and tocover, and in course of time our home was ready for us again, and wemoved in. Up above us, on the surface, the same thing happened.Animals arrived, liked the look of the place, took up their quarters,settled down, spread, and flourished. They didn't bother themselvesabout the past--they never do; they're too busy. The place was a bithumpy and hillocky, naturally, and full of holes; but that was ratheran advantage. And they don't bother about the future, either--thefuture when perhaps the people will move in again--for a time--as mayvery well be. The Wild Wood is pretty well populated by now; with allthe usual lot, good, bad, and indifferent--I name no names. It takesall sorts to make a world. But I fancy you know something about themyourself by this time."
"I do indeed," said the Mole, with a slight shiver.
"Well, well," said the Badger, patting him on the shoulder, "it wasyour first experience of them, you see. They're not so bad really; andwe must all live and let live. But I'll pass the word aroundto-morrow, and I think you'll have no further trouble. Any friend of_mine_ walks where he likes in this country, or I'll know the reasonwhy!"
When they got back to the kitchen again, they found the Rat walking upand down, very restless. The underground atmosphere was oppressing himand getting on his nerves, and he seemed really to be afraid that theriver would run away if he wasn't there to look after it. So he hadhis overcoat on, and his pistols thrust into his belt again. "Comealong, Mole," he said anxiously, as soon as he caught sight of them."We must get off while it's daylight. Don't want to spend anothernight in the Wild Wood again."
"It'll be all right, my fine fellow," said the Otter. "I'm comingalong with you, and I know every path blindfold; and if there's ahead that needs to be punched, you can confidently rely upon me topunch it."
"You really needn't fret, Ratty," added the Badger placidly. "Mypassages run further than you think, and I've bolt-holes to the edgeof the wood in several directions, though I don't care for everybodyto know about them. When you really have to go, you shall leave by oneof my short cuts. Meantime, make yourself easy, and sit down again."
The Rat was nevertheless still anxious to be off and attend to hisriver, so the Badger, taking up his lantern again, led the way along adamp and airless tunnel that wound and dipped, part vaulted, part hewnthrough solid rock, for a weary distance that seemed to be miles. Atlast daylight began to show itself confusedly through tangled growthoverhanging the mouth of the passage; and the Badger, bidding them ahasty good-bye, pushed them hurriedly through the opening, madeeverything look as natural as possible again, with creepers,brushwood, and dead leaves, and retreated.
They found themselves standing on the very edge of the Wild Wood. Rocksand brambles and tree-roots behind them, confusedly heaped and tangled;in front, a great space of quiet fields, hemmed by lines of hedges blackon the snow, and, far ahead, a glint of the familiar old river, whilethe wintry sun hung red and low on the horizon. The Otter, as knowingall the paths, took charge of the party, and they trailed out on abee-line for a distant stile. Pausing there a moment and looking back,they saw the whole mass of the Wild Wood, dense, menacing, compact,grimly set in vast white surroundings; simultaneously they turned andmade swiftly for home, for firelight and the familiar things it playedon, for the voice, sounding cheerily outside their window, of the riverthat they knew and trusted in all its moods, that never made them afraidwith any amazement.
As he hurried along, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would beat home again among the things he knew and liked, the Mole saw clearlythat he was an animal of tilled field and hedgerow, linked to theploughed furrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of eveninglingerings, the cultivated garden-plot. For others the asperities, thestubborn endurance, or the clash of actual conflict, that went withNature in the rough; he must be wise, must keep to the pleasant placesin which his lines were laid and which held adventure enough, in theirway, to last for a lifetime.
The Wind in the Willows Page 4