Tales From The Glades Of Ballymore

by Bob Brooks

  Bartholomew answered, “We didn’t have time to examine it, but there was another note and some pieces of wood. It looked very similar to the first box.”

  The fog had helped the weasels escape, but it now had the team trapped. Visibility remained very poor. Worse, in the excitement of the getaway, Bartholomew had dropped his compass somewhere.

  Bartholomew advised, “We are tired now, so let’s get some rest. Hopefully, the fog will be gone in the morning.”

  The bell bonged twice.

  Unfortunately, in the morning, the fog was still with them. It was a serious problem. The animals arose and had a light breakfast.

  Wilde stared out into the fog and said, “Well, we can stay here until the fog clears, but we don’t know how long that will be. Also, the longer we stay, the greater the chance of being spotted. Although, we’re pretty well hidden by the fog.”

  As they pondered their situation, the fireflies appeared again. Because of the fog, it seemed they came out of nowhere. Wilder saw them first and was elated. They all had their lights on bright. The chief firefly came forward and landed on Wilder’s nose. The others then lowered their lights.

  Wilder said, “Hello! It’s very good to see you again. Our mission was successful, but we are now trapped by the fog. We need to return to Ballymore. Can you help us?”

  They certainly could help and did. Within minutes the animals were hiking north, guided by the light from the fireflies. Even though the fog eventually cleared, the fireflies stayed with them for the whole return journey. The animals were most grateful. They got back to Ballymore in the late afternoon of the 15th and immediately went to Bartholomew’s home. They were welcomed and followed by most of the residents. Stoddard brought the box from his cottage.

  Although tired, Bartholomew presided over the opening of the box. Everyone crowded around as he unlatched its lid for the second time. Inside were the instructions for the next puzzle location and seven pieces of wood. They were as beautifully polished as the first pieces.

  When the pieces were connected, the new line of coded message was:

  MVVEZ QUV AJSE

  The yellowed envelope was, again, addressed to:

  The Residents of Ballymore

  He opened and read it.

  “Well, we are making great progress. I want to thank everybody for their efforts, especially Wilde and Wilder Weasel,” said Bartholomew. “The next puzzle trip will be closer to home, and I will start planning it soon. Now, I am quite tired from the trip. Everybody, please excuse me.”

  He put everything in his shoulder bag. The animals applauded as he climbed the steps and headed for bed.

  As a way of thanking the fireflies for their help, Wilder invited them to the butterfly migration and picnic in two days. It appeared that they accepted the invitation.

  Every year, for as far back as anyone could remember, the autumn butterfly migration arrived in Ballymore on September 17th. The butterflies landed on the island and rested there for one day. The migration was a good excuse for a community picnic, which was held at the pavilion and surrounding park. Somehow, the butterflies knew to stay away from that area. They certainly didn’t want to be stepped on by their hosts. The majority of the island was covered by a live, multi-colored carpet for one day.

  Of course, Petunia Porcupine was at the picnic. During the afternoon she heard that Dr. Brigit had a cold and was not feeling well. She decided to leave the picnic early, go home, and bake a coconut custard pie for her. The pie was still warm when she left for Brigit’s cottage, two hours later. She could still see the butterflies and picnic over on the island. It was early evening, and the sky was cloudy, but no rain was forecast. The walk to Brigit’s home was only about five minutes.

  Just before Brigit’s cottage, Petunia entered a small clearing. Suddenly, she heard the sound of wings. A large hawk landed about ten feet in front of her, blocking her path. She had never seen this bird before. He didn’t look respectable, and she was startled.

  The hawk asked, “What’s in the basket?”

  She was now trembling. “I’m taking a p-pie to my friend who is ill.”

  The hawk hissed and took a step forward. “Between you and that pie, I’ll have a good dinner tonight.”

  Petunia was petrified and couldn’t move or even speak.

  “I believe I would change those plans if I were you,” said a voice to the right of the hawk. From behind some trees Wilde Weasel stepped into the clearing. He was wearing his fatigues again. When he stood up and bared his fangs, the hawk realized that he was a formidable foe. Despite that, the hawk spit at him and said, “Who says so?”

  Snarling, Wilde answered fiercely, “I do!”

  “And I do, also!” snarled Wilder Weasel, who had just stepped from the trees to the left of the hawk. Also wearing fatigues, he looked equally imposing. The hawk turned to see his second foe.

  “We suggest you leave immediately, while you can,” continued Wilder. Each weasel took a step towards the hawk. Saliva was dripping from their mouths. They were ready for a fight.

  The hawk turned towards Petunia. He calculated that he could beat one weasel but not two. He hissed again, spat on the ground, and took flight quickly. In seconds he was gone.

  Wilde and Wilder rushed to Petunia. She was still shaking.

  “It’s all right now, Mrs. Porcupine. He’s gone. You’re safe,” said Wilde, and he put his arm around her. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m taking a p-pie to Dr. Brigit.”

  “Well, you’re almost there. Let us help you,” said Wilder kindly.

  “Thank you, yes,” she responded.

  The weasels each took her by a paw, and they walked slowly to Dr. Brigit’s cottage. Wilder carried the pie, which smelled very good to him.

  Brigit saw them coming and opened the front door. It was obvious that something had happened.

  “Petunia, please come in and sit down. Let me bring you some tea,” she said. “What, in the world, happened?”

  “I was b-bringing a pie to you, and I was attacked by a hawk. Wilde and Wilder s-saved me.” She started to cry. Dr. Brigit put her arm around her and comforted her.

  The weasels stood, almost at attention, near the front door. They were looking self-confident and proud.

  As Petunia regained her composure, she told what had happened.

  Eventually, Dr. Brigit turned to the weasels and said, “You certainly did well tonight, boys. Thank you very much.”

  Wilde said, “Thank you, Dr. Brigit.”

  “How did you happen to be in the clearing at that time?” she asked.

  “We’ve been tracking that hawk since we spotted him circling the pond in the early afternoon. We thought he could be trouble and he was,” answered Wilde.

  “Well done! I bet those camouflage outfits helped.”

  “They certainly did,” answered Wilder.

  Petunia finished her tea and said, “I’m feeling much better now. Thank you everybody.” She stood up and went over to Wilde and Wilder and hugged each one.

  The word spread quickly about the weasels’ valiant actions. Their reputation climbed a couple of more notches, and for a few weeks they were pleased to accept several dinner invitations. They would need the extra goodwill because next month was Halloween when they were at their most devilish.

  The building of Sam Snapping Turtle’s cottage commenced the day after the butterfly picnic. The weather was cool, and there was more than a hint of autumn in the air. An early morning mist was on the pond. That was a sure sign of the changing seasons. Burton Beaver sniffed the fresh air as he left his cottage to go and meet with Sam. He loved fall. It was so refreshing. It was refreshing as long as you weren’t trapped in the woods by fog, that is. The beaver entered the water and swam down the cove to where Sam lived.

  Sam was waiting for him at the farthest end. Devon Duck and Sedgewick Squirrel would be joining them, also.

  “Good morning. How are you?” said Burton.

&nbs
p; “Good morning. I’m fine, thank you.”

  “It’s a beautiful day to begin building a cottage,” said Burton. “Have you thought about the style you would like?”

  “A little. I only need a small cottage, and the only special feature I can think of is an underwater entrance.”

  “Ah, similar to our cottage but smaller,” said Burton.

  “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

  “Then, we will start immediately. The first step is to assemble the building materials. The squirrels will gather pine needles, straw, and reeds for the roof. My family will find wood from fallen trees. Perhaps you can help the ducks with the stones,” explained Burton.

  “Yes. How can I help?”

  “A short distance down the creek, a lot of stones have accumulated near the bank,” said Burton. “We use the raft and take what we need for cottages or other projects. Of course, the ducks pull the raft. Your extra strength would be a great help, especially if the current is strong.”

  “I’m ready whenever you need me,” answered Sam. “I very much want to help build my cottage.”

  As they were talking, Devon and Sedgewick arrived. Burton told them about the style and size of the cottage that was to be built. It was pretty routine except for the underwater entrance.

  Devon said, “We can be here tomorrow morning at 8 bongs with the raft to get the stones. It will probably take most of the day to bring them here. Sam, your help will be important since the creek is running strong.”

  “I’ll be ready,” said Sam.

  The meeting ended with everyone agreeing that the material gathering should start immediately.

  The next morning, the ducks brought the raft. They had modified one of their harnesses for Sam, and he was eager to try it. It took a couple of minutes for him to hook up, and some adjustment was needed. It seemed his beak was even larger than the ducks had guessed. The ducks and Burton boarded the raft, and Sam easily pulled it into the pond. That was a rare treat for the ducks as they were normally the chauffeurs.

  It was time to head down the creek. No pulling would be needed, but there would be a lot of steering required. Sam remained harnessed in front, but all five ducks hooked up to the back of the raft. Sam pulled it towards the creek. As they approached, the raft was caught by the current and began to speed up. The ducks had to paddle backward and Sam backed up against the front of the raft. They had it under control but just barely. The raft careened downstream as the water swirled around.

  When they reached the location of the stones, Devon yelled, “We’re going to have to beach it on the left shore now!” The ducks steered the raft in that direction as best they could. Sam dove under the water to avoid being squashed between the rocks and raft. With a loud splash, it crashed onto the rocky shoreline. Nothing and no one was damaged or injured.

  Devon said, “Well, it wasn’t an elegant landing, but we made it.”

  Now, they had to refloat the raft. That required a lot of pushing and pulling and yanking and tugging. Finally, they got it back in the water and anchored. Then, they began the loading process. Burton knew what was needed and selected the best stones. As the raft took on the stones, it lowered in the water. Eventually, Burton decided that they had enough stones for that trip. Everyone hooked up to their harness, and they slowly headed up stream. It only took five minutes to rush downstream but over an hour to return. It would not have been possible without Sam.

  The first load was finally delivered to the building site. It would take two more trips to get the needed stones. By evening they were finally done. It had been a tiring but successful day. Morris Muskrat stopped by around 7 bongs and kindly invited them to dinner.

  After dinner everyone returned to their homes for a well-earned sleep. Sam lay down in the nest he had created and looked at the piles of stones, wood, and straw. Soon, the piles would be transformed into a cottage. It was something he was having a hard time believing. After all of these years, it seemed like magic. He was learning an age-old lesson. When you help others, you frequently get back more than you give.

  Material gathering was the most difficult part of the construction. Next, the foundation and underwater entrance were dug. Then, construction proceeded rapidly. By the second week in October, the cottage was finished. Bartholomew arranged a dedication ceremony and sent out invitations to everyone.

  On October 14th most of Ballymore gathered at the end of the cove, in front of Sam’s beautiful new home. Morris Muskrat and Birk Beaver had made and delivered furniture. Everything was cleaned and polished. The front door and the woodwork had a rich mahogany like glow. It was very homey. Sam could have slept in the cottage the night before but decided to wait until the dedication.

  Bartholomew stood before the group and began.

  “Welcome, everybody. The main purpose of this get together is to formally welcome Sam Snapping Turtle to the Ballymore community. Sam, would you please come up.”

  Sam had been standing in the back. He came forward and stood beside Bartholomew. Everyone applauded, and he was a little embarrassed by the attention.

  “As you know, Sam made his presence known to us in a most dramatic way. He saved Craig and Colin Chipmunk from drowning just last month.”

  Everyone applauded again and Sam smiled.

  “Today, we dedicate his new cottage, which was just completed yesterday. We want to thank the many animals who made this possible. Sam, we have one more surprise for you. Will the frogs please come forward.”

  Farley, Fionna, and Faith came to the front. They carried three cloth-covered paintings and three tripods. The tripods were set in a neat row near Sam, and a painting was placed on each one.

  “This past June, at the Midsummer’s Eve festival, the frogs did the initial sketches for these three paintings. We didn’t know Sam then, but he was there, also. Sam, as a token of our appreciation, we would like to present these paintings to you for your new home. Would you please do the honor of unveiling them.”

  Sam was overcome by all of this. He wiped his eyes, walked to the painting on the left and pulled off the cloth. It was a painting of the stern of the HMS Ballymore, the dock, and a number of the residents.

  He next unveiled the center painting. It pictured the center section of the boat with its beautiful, black hull and large, dark red sails. Above the boat were the bumblebees in formation. On the dock were many more residents. The details and colors were amazing.

  The final painting was of the bow of the boat. In front were the remaining residents who had attended the commissioning ceremony. Standing on the very right was Sam. The frogs had painted him in even though he was not there on the dock.

  When Sam saw himself in the picture, he broke down completely. He sobbed and shook and sobbed some more. Bartholomew walked over to him and put his wing around him. Everyone clapped and cheered. Bartholomew finally put his wings up and asked for quiet.

  Sam turned around and faced them. Fionna gave him a handkerchief. He wiped his eyes and looked at the group again.

  He spoke softly and slowly. “I came to Ballymore hoping to make some new friends and find a nice place to live. You have overwhelmed me with your kindnesses. I thank you so very much. I love you all.”

  Everyone cheered again.

  “I will never forget this day.”

  He looked over at himself in the painting and almost sobbed again. Everyone surrounded him to wish him well.

  After a short while Bartholomew rescued Sam.

  “Thank you everyone. You are all invited inside for some tea and cookies. Please be patient and take turns.”

  Everyone was very impressed by the cottage and the cookies made by Petunia Porcupine.

  So Sam got his new cottage and three memorable paintings. I’m sure you will agree that he received even more than that from his new friends.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Weasels' Halloween

  The week after Sam’s cottage was dedicated, the leaves on the trees approached their peak
color. Nature continued to prepare for winter. Stoddard noticed the beautiful scene as he returned to Ballymore after another procurement trip. He recalled his idea about having an aerial view of Ballymore painted. The painting would make a wonderful Winter Solstice gift for Bartholomew, he thought. He flew off to talk to the frogs. He hoped he could talk them into flying on his and Sean’s backs. They were home when he arrived. They liked his gift idea but were scared at the thought of leaving the ground.

  Stoddard suggested that he could come back with Sean the next day. They would wear their basket harnesses, and the frogs could try short, low flights. The frogs finally agreed to that go-slow approach.