Badger and Crab's Adventure

by Catherine Trimby

  Too soon it was all over and the pool was spratless. Moon came out and smiled at them.

  Badger lay on the big stone at his end of the pool licking his snout to make sure he had eaten every last morsel of fish. He felt comfortably full, which was a lovely sensation. Crab sat watching him on the big stone at the other end. He was pleased that it had gone so well. Perhaps Badger would be his new best friend now. He waited while Badger washed his face, settled back on his haunches and sighed contentedly.

  ‘Was that good, then?’ Crab finally asked when Badger had finished washing.

  ‘Very, very good,’ Badger replied and then, remembering his manners, he added, ‘Thank you very much.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Crab said.

  ‘I ought to be going,’ Badger said after a little while, with his eyes half closed. He was getting sleepy.

  ‘We could try again tomorrow, if you like,’ Crab said casually. He didn’t want to seem too eager for Badger’s company. ‘The tide will be okay for another night or two, though soon it won’t come in to fill the pool any more.’

  ‘Tomorrow would be splendid,’ Badger replied, yawning. ‘But what about you? You haven’t had anything to eat this evening.’ He was feeling a bit guilty about having guzzled all the sprats while Crab had eaten nothing.

  ‘That’s all right,’ Crab replied airily. ‘I ate earlier, there were some good bits of plankton sloshing about when the tide first came in and a dead bit of herring. I’m okay. Same time tomorrow evening, then?’

  Badger nodded slowly. He knew he was going to find it hard work climbing up through the woods as his tummy was so full.

  ‘Bye for now, then,’ he waved a paw at Crab and slithered off the rock and started on his way up the beach. ‘Thanks again.’

  ‘Bye.’ Crab scuttled off his stone and began his sideways walk back towards the breaking waves.

  * * *

  The following evening it was raining when Badger came out of the sett. The raindrops settled on his nose so he wiped them off with his paw as he looked around to see if anything untoward was going on near the sett. It seemed peaceful enough, just the pitter-patter of the rain on the hawthorn leaves above him and the distant baa-ing of the sheep in the field nearby. It was almost dark and Moon was still in bed. Badger turned his head from side to side, listening carefully to check if the coast was clear. He couldn’t hear anything suspicious, so he trotted across the field into the woods and down the path leading to the beach. He couldn’t smell Fox, so maybe he was still asleep, and he didn’t see or hear Grey Squirrel, but that was probably because it was wet. He knew she didn’t like rain and so was probably curled up cosily in her drey.

  Tawny Owl swooped over him as he reached the clearing just before the woods ended and the seashore began. He wasn’t going to break cover either and risk his feathers getting waterlogged.

  ‘Keep your snout away from my mouse hole,’ Tawny Owl hissed at him menacingly, then glided away to sit on a branch and watch.

  ‘All right, all right,’ Badger said tetchily. ‘I’ve got a better meal waiting for me. I don’t want your pesky mice, thank you.’

  ‘Good,’ said Tawny Owl settling his wings down by his side one after the other and cleaning his beak on the branch. ‘Just so’s you know I’m watching you.’ He sniffed loudly.

  Badger took no notice and cautiously left the cover of the beech trees and ventured out into the open at the top of the beach. The tide was quite a long way away and the rain was muffling the usual roar of the waves. Badger slipped and slid his way across the rocks and then trotted more quickly on the sand over to the other side of the beach where he and Crab had made their pool. He was beginning to think happily about the forthcoming fishy feast.

  There was no sign of Crab as Badger reached the pool. He climbed onto the big rock at one end and looked carefully into the water, but the rain didn’t make it easy to see what was in the pool.

  ‘Where are you, Crab?’ Badger called in as quiet a voice as he could manage. ‘It’s me, Badger, are you there?’ He put his snout into the pool and tried to see under the water. But he couldn’t see anything as it was too murky for his eyes.

  There was no reply and no sign of Crab on the stones at the other side of the pool either. Badger sat down to think for a minute what he should do. He absentmindedly scratched his left ear with his left back paw. If Crab didn’t come could he, Badger, catch fish on his own? Were there any fish in the pool anyway? It was a bit of a puzzle and he was very unsure what to do. It wasn’t really a good idea to stay too long on the beach, you never knew who might come along, but on the other hand maybe Crab had got the time all wrong and would come sometime soon. Fishing would be so much easier if there were two of them.

  Badger waited patiently for another few minutes, but still Crab didn’t come.

  ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘I had better see if there are any fish and try and catch them by myself’. He was getting really hungry by now. He remembered how Crab had rounded up the sprats and shepherded them to the end of the pool and into his mouth. But of course it was very different doing it on his own. Badger slid off the big stone and into the water. It was deeper than he expected and he found himself having to swim, which he wasn’t very good at. Then he looked for the sprats and indeed found there were quite a few swimming frantically around, trying to get away from the big furry creature who had invaded their space. Time after time Badger herded the sprats to one end of the pool by waving his paws at them underwater but just as he opened his mouth they swam away, under him or around him, tickling his ears as they whizzed past, and he was left with a mouth full of horrible salty water. It was also very annoying when the sprats flicked their tails rudely into his face.

  Badger got hungrier and hungrier but still Crab didn’t come and help.

  The rain stopped and Moon came out. She smiled at Badger trying to fish.

  Finally Badger gave up. He climbed out of the pool onto the big rock and gave himself an enormous shake. The water drops spread far and wide in a great silvery arc and he felt a bit better, though his coat was now standing up in wet black spikes all over his body and he was rather cold.

  He sighed and looked again into the pool where the sprats were still zooming around in crazy circles. ‘Oh well,’ he thought. ‘I suppose badgers are better at digging than fishing. But I’m awfully hungry and I’d better get a move on and see what else I can find in the wood, or maybe if I hurry I can join Mrs B in the sweetcorn field. She might have left me something.’

  He trundled away across the beach and back into the wood. ‘That’s the last time I believe a crab when he offers me supper,’ he said crossly to himself as he started up the hill.

  * * *

  Crab had forgotten all about his promise to meet Badger by the pool and go fishing again. He had had a nice lazy day in another pool with some of his crabby friends and then when the sun had gone down and the rain had started he decided to explore the shingly bank on the furthest side of the beach. It was quite a long way from the fishing pool so he didn’t hear Badger when he called and he didn’t see him either as there were some very big rocks between them.

  It was much later when the rain had stopped and Moon had come out that Crab remembered his promise. He rocked back on his shell on the shingly bank, waved his legs in the air and considered what to do.

  ‘Badger is sure to have found lots of food in the wood,’ Crab reassured himself. ‘It’s not my job to feed badgers. It’s not my responsibility. It’s much more important that I keep an eye on fishy things on the beach rather than furry things. Badger won’t have missed me, he’ll be fine. I don’t need to do anything.’ Having satisfied himself that his conscience was clear, Crab sidled along the edge of the incoming tide until he reached the pool where he liked to take a nap. He slipped into the water, eased himself under his favourite rock and went to sleep.

  The next day was a f
ine and sunny Sunday and there were a lot of Moonfaces on the beach. Crab sighed when he finally got up and saw all the legs on the sand and in the pools and on the rocks.

  ‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘Another day dodging nets and sticks. I think I’ll just stay put under this rocky ledge. If I keep very still, with luck no one will poke or prod too far and the hanging seaweed might put them off looking too hard. I’ll have to do without food for a while unless I manage to grab a shrimp or two.’

  He settled himself out of sight, hoping that the tide would come in soon and chase the Moonfaces off the beach.

  Crab dozed for a long time until he heard noises above him on the rock. He opened one eye and then the other and swivelled them to try and look upwards through the curtain of seaweed. He couldn’t see anything and was just about to crawl carefully out from under the rock ledge to see what was going on when two legs with orange plastic flip-flops on the end of them sploshed into the pool centimetres in front of his hideout. Crab hurriedly recoiled back under the rock. A net started poking and prodding ominously close under the seaweed. He had to squash himself into as small a space as possible to avoid being bashed by it, or, worse still, being caught in it and then put into a tiny bucket and left to bake in the sun whilst some small Moonface forgot all about him. He knew this happened, he’d seen it many times and had lost lots of friends and family who had died miserably in poky little pink buckets.

  Crab was tempted to stretch out his right pincer and give a good nip to the leg that was nearest to him. It might persuade the small Moonface to get out of the pool. But, on the other hand, it might mean revenge by the bigger Moonfaces. He resisted temptation and stayed as far out of reach of the net as possible. This could be a long wait. Then he heard big Moonface voices talking together on the rock above him.

  ‘… So when are you going to shoot them, then?’

  ‘We’ll probably make a start this evening before they go out foraging.’

  ‘Which setts are you targeting?’

  ‘The one at the top of the wood over there. The farmer says they are doing a lot of damage to his maize crops, never mind the possibility of his cows getting tuberculosis. I’m told there’s one family of badgers living in that sett and then there are more setts on the other side of the field.’

  ‘Taking the terriers with you?’

  ‘Oh, yes, can’t get them out without the dogs.’

  ‘Well, good luck to you. Wish I could come and help.’

  ‘Not to worry, we’ve plenty of manpower; should be a good night’s sport. We’ll start just after dusk.’

  At first Crab didn’t take much interest in the conversation, but slowly he put two and two together: shooting; setts; dogs; tonight. This was worrying stuff. It was clear that Badger was in danger. Crab felt a pang of conscience – he had let Badger down last night by not being at the fishing pool – but what could he do now? He was stuck under the rock ledge for as long as the Moonfaces remained above. How could he warn Badger anyway? What could he do? Crab absent-mindedly scratched his nose with his left pincer and shifted his weight onto his back legs as he thought about the problem. He knew roughly where Badger lived but he had never left the beach in his life and had no idea what sort of difficulties he might find if he set off into the wood. He knew crabs weren’t designed to travel along leafy paths or through grassy fields. But if he did nothing then Badger and his family would be chased out of their home by dogs and then shot by the Moonfaces. He couldn’t let that happen. Badger was his friend.

  After quite some time hiding quietly Crab reckoned that the tide had turned and was now coming in and that it wouldn’t be long before the Moonfaces were forced off the beach and into their cars. Then it would be safe for him to venture out of the pool and make his way into the wood. The sun was now low in the sky, which meant there couldn’t be much daylight left. He only hoped there was enough time for him to reach Badger and warn him before the Moonface got there with his friends and their guns and their dogs.

  He waited a bit longer until he saw the sea sploshing over the rocks and into his pool, filling it up nicely. The noises above had stopped and the small Moonface had climbed out of the pool and gone away some time before. Peace was at last returning to the beach. Crab knew he needed to move but he was still very worried about what would happen to him if he ventured into the wood.

  Carefully he climbed out from under the ledge and onto the rock above the pool. He looked around cautiously. Phew. He was sure there weren’t any Moonfaces left on the beach but he could see one far across the other side where they put their cars. He heard the roar of an engine and a car chugged away up the hill. There seemed to be no one left in sight so he took a deep breath and slid off the rock on to the sand and scuttled as fast as he could towards the wood. He hated being out in the open and it was hard work clambering over the shingle and then finding that he had to make his way across the boulders at the top of the beach in order to reach the shelter of the trees. The boulders were smooth and shiny and not at all easy for chaps with claws. He used one eye to look above him all the time in case the herring gulls appeared. He wouldn’t stand much of a chance against them if they did come. With relief he finally reached the cover of the ferns and grasses that grew along the side of the path that snaked its way up through the trees. He stopped to catch his breath under a nice billowy fern and to check for enemies. There was still some light from the sky but the wood ahead looked dark and gloomy and he couldn’t see very well at night unless he was under water. There didn’t seem to be anyone around but it wasn’t going to be easy – or fun. Crab very nearly turned back. He made excuses in his head about not warning Badger. He could hear himself saying to Mrs Crab, if he saw her, ‘I hurt my second left leg and was utterly exhausted, no one could have done more. There was this mammoth rock in the way, I simply couldn’t get past it, I gave it my all …’ It was oh, so tempting to go back to the pool but a little voice inside his shell said, ‘Poor old Badger, he saved your life, you have to help him now.’

  Crab sighed and took a deep breath. ‘Here we go,’ he muttered as he broke cover and started to climb up the path.

  Being in a wood at night was very different from being under water either in the day or at night and Crab found himself startled every few moments by strange noises that he didn’t understand at all. The wind was blowing the treetops and they made a whooshing sort of sound; branches creaked and groaned as he passed underneath; leaves on the ground rustled and blew around him as he picked his way carefully across them. It was very disconcerting and he tried to sing a small, quiet song inside his head to stop himself from being frightened.

  I’m a crab

  A very fine crab,

  I live in a pool

  Where it’s lovely and cool.

  I like to eat shrimps

  With plankton as well,

  I love my small pool

  Where it’s lovely and cool.

  I hate this dark wood

  With its scratchy old floor,

  I want my small pool

  Where it’s lovely and cool.

  He sang it through twice and then hummed it twice more by which time he had made his way bravely up the wood past thickets of brambles on one side and rabbit burrows on the other.

  Although he had eight legs and two big pincers Crab wasn’t made for walking in woods. He found his under-shell was becoming very uncomfortable, it bumped on the ground, it got caught on twigs, and long straggly grasses wound themselves round it so he had to stop frequently and sort himself out, which took time. His legs were getting very tired too. They were used to nice sandy sea floors where he could scuttle very fast sideways or backwards and they were not used to uneven paths with lots of vegetation and lots of ups and downs. Worse still, though, he realised that he was becoming very dried up and badly needed to find some water to sit in – even if it wasn’t salty water – to prevent himself from dr
ying up completely. This really was serious. Crabs need water.

  I must go faster, he thought. It can’t be far now. If I can find Badger quickly then I can hurry as fast as I can back to the comforting salty water of the bay before it’s too late. He tried to remember what Badger had told him about where he lived. ‘Up through the wood, across the field on the left and then down under the hawthorn hedge.’ Well, he was at the top of the wood now. There was the field. He could just see tall grasses waving in a ghostly way ahead of him as the last glimmers of daylight faded. He took another deep breath and had just crawled under the wire fence in front of him and into the field when there was an awful screeching noise from above, ‘Yeeeeow’.

  A great flurry of wings swooped down on Crab and he was knocked sideways on to his back. He scrabbled frantically, all eight legs and both pincers waving helplessly in the air and his soft underbelly exposed most dangerously to whatever had attacked him.

  ‘Get off,’ Crab shouted in as loud a voice as he could manage, trying to sound ferocious, but because he was so tired and dried up his voice only sounded petulant and squeaky. His left pincer, however, managed to connect with something soft and furry in the air above him and the screeching creature backed off. In a split second Crab managed to turn himself over and get back on his legs. He waved both pincers in the air above him as menacingly as he could and hoped to gain some breathing space and maybe dive for cover under the nearby dock leaves.