by Anna Dale
They found Humdudgeon in the Water Hole. He did not notice them at first. He was engaged in a hushed conversation with Rusty and MacTavish. The tails of the dog and the fox were sweeping from side to side and when they caught sight of Huffkin and Athene their tails wagged even more.
Humdudgeon had taken his workmates into his confidence and told them about the plan to escape. Even when Rusty and MacTavish learned that the plan had gone wrong, MacTavish continued to trot about excitedly. He behaved like a different dog from the miserable soul that Athene had first encountered. He kept nudging them all with his nose and telling them about his owners, who were a young couple called the Winstanleys. Rusty was not quite as thrilled as her canine friend until Athene thought to mention that fox-hunting had now been banned. It did not seem to matter to Rusty or MacTavish that the chances of getting above ground were slim. The mere mention of an escape plan had an amazing effect on their moods.
They had not even begun to discuss what they should do next when Huffkin gave them a warning. She had been posted as lookout at the mouth of the chamber and by her frantic hand signals, which insisted that they should button their lips, it was quite clear that someone was coming.
‘Low Gloam,’ hissed Huffkin. ‘And they don’t look friendly.’
Athene was panic-stricken. She looked around for somewhere to conceal herself, but the chamber had no nooks or crannies to crawl into. If she crouched behind the buckets in the cart, she’d be discovered in less than half a minute. Her stomach lurched when she realised that the cart was her only option.
There was nowhere else to hide.
Chapter Sixteen
A Bucketful of Terror
Quicker than Athene had ever seen him move, Humdudgeon darted over to where a length of rope was coiled untidily on the floor. He seized one end of the rope and knotted it firmly around his waist. Then he searched frantically for the other end and knotted that to the handle of a bucket.
‘Right,’ said Humdudgeon, giving Athene a brisk nod. ‘In you get, my dear. Look sharp.’
‘I don’t think I’m small enough to fit in there,’ said Athene, wondering how Humdudgeon could expect her to squeeze herself inside a container that barely reached above her knees.
‘Don’t be scared,’ Humdudgeon said. ‘You’ll be quite safe.’ He bunched the rest of the rope in his hands and altered his stance so that his feet were planted firmly and his knees were slightly bent.
Athene looked at the rope and then at the sturdy wooden bucket to which it had been attached. Finally her eyes slid to the hole in the rocky floor. A second later, the penny dropped and she caught on to what he was suggesting. ‘You want me to dangle above the river in that bucket? That’s a bonkers idea,’ she said.
At that moment, MacTavish started to bark. He had rushed to join Huffkin at the entrance of the chamber when she had announced that a group of Low Gloam were drawing near. His hackles were up, his ears were erect and his tail was as straight as a radio aerial. Every time he gave a resounding woof, his front paws left the floor.
Huffkin looked over her shoulder and pulled a face at Humdudgeon. ‘They’re nearly here,’ she said in a loud whisper. ‘Why are you messing around with that bucket? You should be helping Athene to hide!’
‘That’s exactly what I am doing!’ Humdudgeon said.
Athene hesitated. She heard the footsteps of the Low Gloam pounding down the tunnel.
‘Oh, all right,’ she said to Humdudgeon. ‘You’d better not drop me, though.’
Rusty looked on with a concerned expression as Humdudgeon lowered the bucket into the hole and, standing well back from the edge, told Athene to step inside it. She did so slowly and carefully, gripping the rope with both hands. Humdudgeon puffed out his cheeks with the effort of holding her weight, then let the rope feed through his fingers so that she started to descend.
Athene heard the sound of a kerfuffle at the entrance to the chamber. She guessed that Huffkin and MacTavish were attempting to waylay the Low Gloam, but she did not see what happened next. The hole swallowed her up and before she knew it, she had passed through the narrow opening and was dangling precariously near the roof of a cave with a body of water flowing beneath her.
She did not know what was going on in the chamber above. The river was making too much noise as it rushed on its journey for her to hear the voices of her friends or foes. All she could see was a small cave with craggy, glistening walls and a river like a moving, gleaming carpet taking up all the space on its floor.
Athene was sure that the group of Low Gloam, whom she had narrowly managed to avoid, had been despatched to look for her. She hoped that they would carry out a quick search of the chamber and be satisfied that she was not there. With any luck, they would take one look at Humdudgeon and assume that he was in the middle of hauling up a bucket of water. Athene hoped that his strength held out. She reckoned that it must be an awful strain to suspend a person in mid-air.
Keeping her balance was essential. She maintained a tight hold on the rope and did not move a single toe, hoping that her stillness would make things easier for Humdudgeon. Athene did not want to fall out of the bucket. Although it was only a short drop and swimming was a sport that she was fairly good at, she did not relish the thought of taking a dip in a cold, fast-flowing river with no lifebelts to hand and little chance of getting out again.
Looking at the river made her nervous, but there was nothing else for her to do. Its fluid surface rippled like a length of wind-blown silk and its speed was surprisingly swift. Athene found herself wondering what might happen if she let the river carry her on its underground journey. At some point, the river had to emerge into the open. What would happen then? Would Lodestar’s spell stretch quite that far and if it did, might the flow of the river be strong enough to propel a person along and break through the spell’s boundary? As the minutes ticked by, the idea of swimming to freedom became more and more attractive and by the time that Huffkin’s voice delivered the welcome news to Athene that the Low Gloam had gone, she had convinced herself that her daring plan had every chance of succeeding.
‘Humdudgeon’s going to pull you up!’ yelled Huffkin. ‘Hold on tight!’
‘No! Wait!’ Athene replied. Her voice echoed around the cave. ‘There’s something I need to do. Ask Humdudgeon to let out the rope. I have to go lower.’
There was silence. Then Athene heard Huffkin’s voice again. ‘Humdudgeon wants to know what you’re playing at,’ she said. ‘He says that his arms are going to fall off if he has to hold on to you for much longer.’
‘Please!’ called Athene. ‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’
A few seconds later, Athene felt the bucket drop jerkily little by little. She held on to the rope for dear life.
‘Lower!’ shouted Athene.
The bucket descended a fraction more, stopping just above the ruffled surface of the river.
‘That’s low enough!’ yelled Athene. She looked to her left, to where the river entered the cave through a jagged archway. Her eyes followed its course, along the cave floor and through another archway to her right. At this level she was able to get a much better view. Her plan to swim to freedom relied upon there being adequate headroom between the river’s surface and the rocky roof. If the roof touched the water at any point, then the swimmer would be forced to continue underwater and if the level of the roof did not rise again for a considerable distance there was a chance that the swimmer might drown.
There were no glowing stones in the cave and Athene found that she couldn’t see as clearly as normal. She peered into the right-hand archway, trying to ascertain if there was plenty of space between the river’s surface and the roof. In her attempt to get a good look, she let go of the rope with one hand and leaned out over the river. The bucket trembled and the rope started to twist.
Suddenly Athene felt the bucket drop and heard a loud smack as it collided with the water. It seemed as though Humdudgeon’s strength had given out. S
he struggled to keep her balance, but was not able to. The bucket began to slide as if it had been placed on a conveyor belt and, despite her best efforts to stay upright, Athene toppled out. Her scream was amplified in the tiny cave. With a tremendous splash, she hit the water.
Its icy temperature took her breath away. When her head plunged under the surface, she had the good sense to squeeze her eyes tightly shut. Her Goggle Drops had been washed out of her eyes once before in a rainstorm and she did not want that to happen again, especially not while she was at the mercy of an underground river.
The water that filled her ears and blocked her nose ran out again when her face broke through the surface of the water. Instinctively, her arms flailed around and her feet kicked out. She tried to find something solid on which to anchor herself, but the river was too deep for her to find its bottom. As if she were no heavier than a piece of driftwood, the river carried her along. She drew closer and closer to the right-hand archway until she had almost reached it and it was then that she saw quite clearly that only a little further downstream the rocky roof dipped down to meet the river. The realisation that her plan was not likely to work made her squawk with fear. The water frothed as her arms and legs went into overdrive, but her frenzied attempts to swim upstream were in vain. The river’s current was far too powerful.
‘I don’t want to drown!’ cried Athene. ‘Help! Somebody help me!’
The archway loomed ahead of her until she found herself floating underneath it, towards the low roof and the awful possibility that she would never resurface again. Athene was terror-struck. At the last moment, she summoned the strength to reach up and grab a spike of jutting rock. She felt the river push against her, jostling her like a heaving crowd, trying to drag her with it, but Athene hung on with all her might, determined not to be dislodged. Then, with a great snort of effort, she grasped the rock with her other hand. In the next minute she found a foothold on the side of the archway and wedged her toes into it. Water streamed from her hair and her clothes as she pulled herself out of the river and found a crevice in which to put her other foot. She rested for a few seconds, worn out by her exertions. Then, with slow, cautious movements, feeling her way across the rugged wall of the cave, Athene edged closer to the bucket, which was still attached to the rope. She managed to draw level with the bucket, which was being buffeted by the water, but the problem still remained of how to get to it. There was no chance of reaching the bucket if she leaped from the wall. The distance was too far. Her muscles hurt, her knees were sore and her fingers were bleeding. She was cold and wet and beginning to despair when she heard a voice and, looking round, saw Huffkin shinning down the rope with the agility of a gymnast. They stared at each other desperately.
‘I can’t make it,’ said Athene, gulping back tears. She had never felt so frightened in her life.
‘Yes, you can!’ insisted Huffkin.
‘My fingers are slipping!’ Athene wailed.
‘Hold on!’ said Huffkin. ‘Listen, Athene … here’s what you’ll have to do: move three metres to your left.’
‘What good will that do?’ said Athene, unwilling to ask her tired limbs to do any more clambering.
‘You must get back into the water,’ said Huffkin. ‘Go a bit further along the wall and then you’ll have to jump. Try and swim into the middle of the river, as close to the bucket as you can get, and then when you pass by, I’ll grab hold of you.’
It was a risky plan. If anything went wrong, Athene doubted that she would have the energy to stop herself from being pulled through the archway.
‘I don’t suppose you know a spell that could help me to breathe underwater,’ she said.
‘Even Lodestar wouldn’t know a spell like that!’ replied Huffkin.
‘You’re right,’ said Athene with a sigh. She didn’t recall seeing such a spell in Lodestar’s Book of Spells and she had been all the way through it twice. Athene made an attempt at a smile. ‘That leaves me with no choice, then. Will Humdudgeon be able to manage the weight of both of us?’
‘Don’t you worry your head about that,’ said Huffkin as she slid down the last portion of rope and dropped into the bucket, which wobbled until she found her balance.
Gingerly, Athene manoeuvred herself along the wall, clinging to every notch and groove with her fingertips and grazing her legs against the coarse rock as she struggled to find new footholds. On more than one occasion, she had to work her way around stalactites, which hung down like giant icicles from the roof and made her job even more difficult. After a quarter of an hour had passed, Athene stopped. She had not managed to get quite as far as Huffkin had wanted her to, but she did not feel as if she could cleave to the wall for a moment more.
‘I’m ready to jump,’ she told Huffkin and, trying not to think of the consequences should she sail past the bucket and slip through Huffkin’s grasp, Athene let herself fall. Once again, she got a shock as the freezing cold water closed over her head. Then she bobbed to the surface and began to swim front crawl, which was her strongest stroke. When she thought that she had reached the middle of the river, she trod water, her eyes fixed on the bucket and Huffkin’s outstretched arms. The Gloam had bravely let go of the rope and was kneeling in the bucket, which was tipping at an alarming angle. Huffkin leaned towards Athene and shouted words of encouragement, as the gap between them grew narrower and narrower.
‘You can do it! Hold your hand up,’ she said. ‘Stretch a bit higher. That’s it!’
Their fingers touched and then gripped hard. For a few critical seconds, they clung to each other and fought against the current which was trying its best to part them. Then Huffkin pulled Athene’s hand towards her and pressed it to the rim of the bucket. Athene’s other hand joined it, but she only had enough strength to hold on. She was so exhausted that she could not lift herself out of the water and, try as she might, Huffkin could not manage to heave Athene and her waterlogged clothes into the bucket without help.
‘Pull us up!’ cried Huffkin, turning her face to the hole in the roof. Her hands fastened around her friend’s forearms and she advised Athene to hang on like grim death and not let go.
It seemed to take an age for them to be hauled to safety. Athene closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and clung on tightly, even though her arms felt as if they were being torn from their sockets. She made all sorts of distressed noises, but at long last she heard the bottom of the bucket hit the floor of the chamber and felt eager hands seize her arms and sharp teeth tug at her clothes and when she had been extricated from the hole, she rolled on to her back and cried tears of relief.
It was only when her eyes had received more Goggle Drops that she realised exactly who her rescuers were. Humdudgeon was standing in the same position with the rope knotted around his waist, but standing at his side were Shoveller the badger, Rusty, MacTavish and a fox she did not know, all of whom were spitting strands of rope from their mouths and licking their bleeding gums. Kneeling by the hole with smiles on their faces were two people that Athene had definitely not expected to see.
‘How are you feeling?’ said Tippitilda, her face flushed and her dress darkened by river water which had dripped from Athene’s clothes when her friends had dragged her from the hole.
Zach simply launched himself at his sister and gave her a hug. He smelt rather odd and when Athene let go of his shoulders and looked at him she saw that an attempt had been made to give him Gloam-like markings on his face.
‘Is that Blend?’ Athene asked, rubbing her finger across his cheek.
‘No – ink,’ said Tippitilda. ‘When Rusty told me that you were in a fix, I thought I’d better drop in and tell Zach. Of course, he wanted to come and help. His disguise is rather patchy, I’m afraid. He was so eager to get to you … he was out of the door before I’d finished.’
‘I’m going to need more Goggle Drops,’ said Athene, laughing, as she felt her eyes filling with tears again.
When it came to digging holes, Shoveller was an ex
pert. The hole that he dug for Athene in the wall of the chamber where her friends had assembled to rescue her, was just the right size for a girl of her height. Once she had wriggled through its entrance tunnel, she found that she could sit upright without bumping her head on its ceiling and getting dirt in her hair and when she felt like a nap she discovered that there was plenty of room to lie down and even roll over if she wanted to.
Shoveller had hardly rested for a moment after helping to pull on the rope and haul up the bucket which Athene had been hanging from. Realising how urgent it was for a hiding place to be found for her, he had chosen a spot in the nearest wall and set to work straight away. It was only when he had scooped out the final pawful of earth that he sank on to his haunches and took a well-deserved breather. By that time, the chamber had emptied somewhat. The lean, rangy fox with a torn ear and a white-tipped tail whose name, Athene learned, was Fleet, had gone back to his job of licking dirty plates clean and Tippitilda had thought it wise to return Zach to her house in the Digs. Before they had gone, Athene had let them know how indebted she felt towards them. When Rusty had shown up in a frightful panic with the news that Athene was in mortal danger, each of them had stopped what they were doing and rushed to her aid. Their prompt actions had undoubtedly saved her life. Without their assistance, it was questionable whether Rusty, MacTavish and a totally frazzled Humdudgeon would have had the muscle power to pull her out of the water.
When Athene settled down to sleep, she had the security of knowing that the entrance tunnel to her hole had been filled in with earth, making it indistinguishable from the rest of the chamber wall. Should the Low Gloam search the Water Hole again, they would be unlikely to notice it. As she laid her head on her folded-up cardigan she felt at peace. Zach was still safe, she had got away from Scabbler and evaded capture for several hours and although she felt a pang of sadness when she thought about Coney and Kit in the Coop, she felt hopeful that a new day would bring better things.
