Страница 12 из 76
‘Race you to the stream,’ he said, and he and Perryfoot scampered away down the slope through a belt of small willows and over; velvety green carpet of new grass while Brock pottered along behind When they got to the bottom, Nab and the hare began dancing around, each trying to land little cuffs on the other’s cheek. They often played this game although Perryfoot nearly always won; his huge back legs could shoot him out of range so quickly that Nat seldom caught him and then, while the boy was thinking about his next move, the hare would be in and out, cuff: cuff, before Nab could blink. Still, it didn’t matter, they both loved playing, and this afternoon Nab was feeling so good that he managed to catch the hare once or twice. Brock sat under the cool shade of a willow next to the stream and enjoyed watching them. Since that night so many seasons ago when he had found the baby, Brock’s life had been devoted to caring for and looking after the boy. There had been little talk of Elflords or saviours or any ‘grand purpose’ since that time, although Warrigal sometimes intimated that the Elflord was well pleased with the progress of the boy and Wythen occasionally came to visit Brock and Tara to see how they were managing and to guide them on difficult issues.
After a while, when Perryfoot and Nab had grown tired after their game, the three animals decided to wander a little further along the stream. On the other side of the stream there was another green field which sloped steeply down in a sharp bank, so there was little need to be cautious as they were well out of sight of any farm and in any case even if they did see an Urkku there was plenty of undergrowth in which to find cover. Thus they were ambling along quite carelessly, stopping every now and then to pick some berries or young leaves to nibble, when suddenly, upon turning a corner of the stream, they froze. Ahead of them the little steep-sided valley along which they had been walking opened out so that the slopes became far more gentle and on their side of the stream there was a little cluster of yellow gorse bushes surrounding three sides of a hollow. Inside this hollow they could hear the sounds of laughter and talk and there were other unfamiliar sounds which they could not recognize.
After a long time, the trio, satisfied that they had not been seen or heard, relaxed. They were in single file behind a large willow and a holly bush that had been seeded, probably by a bird, many seasons ago and which had flourished by the water. The only sound, apart from that coming from the hollow, was the continuous tinkling of the stream as it meandered over the pebbles in their sandy bed. ‘What shall we do?’ said Nab quietly as he turned round to face the others, who had been walking behind him when they had heard the noise.
‘It’s the Urkku,’ said Perryfoot. ‘Come on, we’ll go back. Come on Brock, turn round,’ and he gave the badger a gentle push with his paw.
‘No,’ said Brock firmly.
‘What do you mean, “No”? It’s Urkku and they’ve probably got guns. Don’t be silly. Let’s go back,’ the hare whispered fiercely.
‘No. I’m pretty certain they aren’t dangerous. I can tell; they aren’t behaving like the Urkku we normally see. Besides the sounds of the voices are different; higher and softer. No, there’s no danger. It’s a good opportunity for you, Nab, to see some Urkku at first hand. Listen, here is what we’ll do. Perryfoot, you go round the front of the hollow, as near as you dare, so that they can see you. Then while they’re watching you, Nab can run across at the back and take cover behind the gorse bushes. I’ll stay here and watch.’
‘Hmmm. I don’t like it at all,’ muttered the hare. 'Not one little bit. Still, if my learned friend says there’s no danger, there’s no danger. I just hope he’s right. Why don’t you go, Brock?’
‘Because if I’m wrong, you can run faster,’ said Brock, smiling mischievously.
‘All right,’ said Perryfoot. ‘Wish me luck.’
The hare ran slowly over the grassy bank and, when he appeared in view at the front of the hollow, the two remaining animals heard little squeals of delight coming from behind the gorse bushes. Perryfoot had stopped and was preening himself and from the sounds of merriment Brock guessed that the Urkku had seen him and were fully engrossed in watching his antics.
‘Right, off you go. But be careful and keep well out of sight,’ whispered Brock, and the boy scuttled along, bent almost double, until he reached the shelter of the bushes at the top of the little hollow. He sat silently for a moment, hardly daring to breathe and then, bursting with the most intense curiosity, he crawled along until he found a gap in the bushes through which he had a clear view. There he saw, for the first time in his life, another member of his own race. There were in fact two of them, both sitting watching Perryfoot with their backs to Nab. Even though they were sitting down he could tell that one was bigger than the other and he guessed that they were parent and young and, from what Remus and Bibbington had told him, he further believed that they were both female. He had not known what he had expected to see but he recognized himself in them and was not so surprised as he thought he might have been. Nevertheless he was fascinated by the way they talked and the way they looked and as he watched he found his attention drawn more and more to the little girl as she snuggled up close to her mother, holding tightly on to her arm with the thrill of seeing the hare so close. Perryfoot was obviously begi
The hare had begun to get bored now and, feeling he had carried out his duty, he hopped slowly back to where Brock was watching from behind the holly bush. Nab, however, was quite unable to tear himself away and indeed had hardly noticed that Perryfoot had gone. ‘What is he doing?’ whispered the hare crossly. ‘Hasn’t he seen enough?’
‘I don’t know; be patient and try to imagine how you would feel if you were his age and were seeing a hare for the first time.’ Perryfoot grunted and stretched out to enjoy the full warmth of the sun and reflect on the story he would tell his doe. Meanwhile Nab’s reverie was suddenly broken as the little girl jumped up, said something and ran off out of the hollow towards the stream, where she began to pick primroses. As she followed the meanders of the stream she was soon out of sight of her mother and had come fairly close to where Nab was lying; in fact he could approach her without being seen from the hollow. He was suddenly seized by an overwhelming impulse to talk to the girl and make himself known to her despite Brock’s warning and in the face of all the animal instincts which told him to remain hidden. How could he approach her? How would she react? Would she call to her mother? A hundred questions like these raced through his mind as, with his heart beating so loudly that he was certain she would hear, he crawled slowly down the bank away from the shelter of the gorse bushes until he was in a shallow ditch that would lead him up to a large willow by the stream which was near the little girl. Behind the holly bush Brock had roused Perryfoot and they were both watching horrified as Nab crawled nearer and nearer to the girl. ‘What’s he doing? Shall I go and stop him?’ said the hare.