Buttons spoke up as she watched the transformation taking place before her. “We’ll be your friends and we are not about to disappear. You’ll have a lot of friends here. But you have to learn the rules of the swamp. It won’t be easy.”
“Gosh,” Delph said as he looked from Buttons to Sally. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
Now, it would be unfair to suggest that Delph lacked a sense of gratitude, or that he harbored and thoughts of treachery. However, it had been a long day; his stomach was growling unmercifully, and well, alligators are still alligators. His honor should not be impugned at this time either, for clearly, he was not acting in the least bit precipitously, considering his inner turmoil, and his great brown eyes contained no hint of Machiavellian cunning. He was simply hungry, and now to make it worse, he was facing a situation he had never thought about. Friends? Actual friends with whom he could talk.
He wanted to cry, but he didn’t. He was an alligator, after all. He simply nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the best friend you ever had.” He looked at Ssserek and Milo. “Really, I mean it. I promise.”
Buttons hopped on Delph’s snout and stalked up to his eyes, peering intently into each, one at a time. “I believe you.”
Ssserek interjected softly, “Delph, you must do as you promise. You can’t win with this bunch otherwise. You do know that?”
Delph grinned hugely, with real joy lighting his eyes. “Yes, yes, I do know. And, thank you all.” His nodding in agreement to Ssserek made Buttons bounce up and down, and at the same time, sat Sally back on her back.
They all laughed aloud, Milo’s bellow shaking the nearest trees and making the forest ring. Buttons slid off after one more lick which made Delph blink with sudden emotion.
Milo turned and began making his way back to the grazing field when Buttons and Sally stopped him with a shout. Racing up to him, they both sat before him and stammered their thanks.
“It was very kind of you, Milo,” said Sally.
“We’ll see you again, soon?” asked Buttons.
Delph made his way up to them. “You were great, Milo. You all are.”
Milo would have blushed had he been able to do so. Instead, he bowed, first to Ssserek and then to the two dogs whose eyes glittered with emotion and appreciation. Finally, he nodded to Delph, whose tail thumped the ground in pure happiness and joy.
Delph nodded to the two dogs. “I have to leave now, if you don’t mind.” He turned to Milo. He had never thought of it before, but this was the greatest day of his life. He didn’t quite know what to do. Then, he simply blurted out, “I’ve gotten to know the swamp pretty well. Uh, would you like some great food? I know where the biggest patch of swamp grass that ever was is. Unexpected emotion welled up in his chest, but Sally and Buttons were grinning, sharing his emotion and his marvelous intent. “Well, you know what I mean.” Delph’s voice dwindled as he looked at the moose.
Milo grinned in return. “I know exactly what you mean. Lead the way, old buddy. We both have some eating to do.”
Buttons and Sally watched with mixed emotions as the two moved swiftly offshore. They couldn’t follow, but it had been a swell day. One that they would not forget. Both made their way to Ssserek where he lay coiled. “I guess its time for us to go, too, Ssserek. Thanks again.”
He watched their rapid departure. He looked out over the quiet swamp, listening to the small sounds of bird and insect. “Yessss, time to call it quits,” he sighed.
The End
Buttons and Great
Horde of Rats
Buttons had gone to her favorite spot in the Great Field early in the afternoon, expecting to meet Sally, her beagle friend. Ssserek, the great serpent was not present, so she sat, watching and listening. The wind was low and brought few messages with it. The Great Forest in the distance was silent. It was too early for the hawks to be soaring overhead. Even the bugs were few. Quiet, it was so quiet that she finally lay down.
But she really didn’t want to, and moved about restlessly. The dreaded dreams had returned; they were increasingly difficult to manage by herself. Sally’s absence made it ever harder, more difficult than ever before. She didn’t like them, and shrank from the night, fearing that when she slept, they would be there. But she was young, and like the young, must sleep when fatigued. And, she had become very fatigued of late. She started to lie down, but got up again and moved about the rocky knoll, sniffing here and there, trying to forget, trying to keep her mind off the dreams. She sat once again, only to stand, stretch, and then yawn. What was keeping Sally? Buttons needed her now, but she was late.
She moved to the flattest part of the small knoll, where Ssserek liked to sun himself in the afternoons. She sat as a butterfly flitted slowly by, turning and twisting as they did. She lay down as she watched the small bug moved about, just in front of her nose. She slept.
Like the butterfly in flight, her dreams were erratic at first, but then she began to run. Anywhere, it didn’t matter, she had to get away.
Run, Buttons, run. His high-pitched squeal urged her on. Run, little dog, run.
She was running, running as fast as her heart could bear, running, and running. But she didn’t seem to move. The horizon was flat and brown, wavering ever so slightly. Strange, there was no sound, but the bushes swayed, their limbs swinging to and fro in what must be a strong wind. But there was none. No noise, no wind. Just running, and running, and running. She couldn’t stop, or the pain would begin. She couldn’t look behind. They might be there. Her legs moved, her nose was to the ground, but the rocks and dust were always the same. They never changed. They were always in the same spot. Great rocks, towering over her, small rocks and stones spread among the bushes, dust hanging in the air, clogging her nose. Her chest hurt, her breathing became faster and faster. Still nothing happened. She hesitated. She couldn’t keep on going. She must stop.
She glanced behind. And then, they were there. Red eyes, small at first, unwinking, red eyes growing larger and larger. They were following. They were catching up. She cried out. But no sound escaped her lips. She shuttered as she began to run faster again, faster and faster. The world was smooth, flat, all the same around her. Just the eyes and Buttons. Angry eyes, evil eyes, mean eyes. They didn’t blink. They just stared at her as they filled the sky. The horizon disappeared into red, unblinking eyes. They began to whirl and eddy around her. The bushes reached for her, red, angry eyes hanging from them, whipping to and fro in their evil hatred of all life but their own.
The eyes began to change, drifting toward one another. They merged, melting into one another, slowly at first, and then faster, and faster, and faster, keeping pace with the small dog’s flashing legs. Then, they moved ahead. Laughter, evil laughter was there. Though she couldn’t hear it, she could feel it. She wanted to cringe, but wouldn’t They would never make her do that. She started to lift her head, to slow down, but couldn’t. The eyes wouldn’t let her as they swiftly became one, a single large red, angry eye. Then suddenly there were two, flanking a long, gray snout, surrounded by grinning teeth. No, not that. There were fangs, and then teeth, flashing back and forth beneath the two unblinking eyes.
A rat—thin, ribs prominent in his scrawny sides, his belly shrunken with hunger—stood before her. Buttons attacked without thinking, her sharp teeth ripping a scream of pain from the rat. It whirled and tried to toss her off, but she hung on tenaciously, digging her paws into the ground, forcing the rat down onto its side.
Then, he, the Great Rat leader, was there. She let go of the first and attacked, even though he was as big as she was. He smelled dead and moldy. Large, gray, with unblinking, evil, red eyes, he smelled, always the same. Loathsome creature though he was, he was strong, and her leap barely budged him. Suddenly, she was pulled off the rat by another, and was surrounded by many rats who laughed and tittered to one another in their cruel language. Their eyes were red, and as the rats hunched down, they waited, daring her to come at them again. The first rat slunk
back into the crowd, his tail dragging on the ground in defeat.
The King Rat was the largest rat of all, and he smiled all of the time, his teeth and eyes glittering as he watched her. He moved through the other rats as though they weren’t there. At first, he said nothing, but when he did, it was a whispering hiss, laughter, in the back of his throat, hatred in his eyes.
The other rats began to chitter as he spoke. “Well, what do we have here, my friends?” He would swing his head from side to side each time he said something, waiting for the others’ hateful responses. “My, but what a big puppy we have here. How grown she is, sending one of us sneaking off with his tail on the ground.” His voice rose in a shriek. “You’ll regret that, little puppy!” His voice suddenly dropped and he looked at her again, his eyes never leaving hers. They were horrible, the meanness, and, yes, the hunger, that was always there.
Buttons was small and scared. Terror was beginning to grow deep inside. But she ignored it as she stared into the red eyes before her. She would not back down, but attack him she did, even biting him on his foreleg. But he was big and strong. Still, he squealed. And then they were all on her, or at least that’s how it felt. He shouted them into order before she knew what was going on. He limped over to her, slowly walking around. She tried to turn to face him, but two big rats wouldn’t let go of her, each holding onto a shoulder. Their teeth, sharp and strong, hurt. But she didn’t say anything; she wouldn’t give them any satisfaction. Then at his command, they began to race in at her, several at a time, nipping her as they did so. She fought back, returning bite for bite, until she could no longer move, her muscles twitching with fatigue. She sat, but would not go down on all four, turning her head back and forth, daring as best she could any who would approach her again.
Hurting all over, the terror inside grew until she thought she would faint from it alone. The rats, too, were tired of their game, though their laughter never let up. The King Rat had sat off to one side, watching, and then returned to face her.
“Bite me, will you!” He chuckled to himself, as though it were all a joke. She thought it was to himself and the others. “No, fun though this has been, I think there’s a better way in which to make an impression on one so young and ferocious.
“Do it now!” He suddenly shouted at the two large rats. They grabbed her again, this time by either side of her neck as another grabbed her tail. There was a terrible pain. And then, they were all laughing at her, pointing at her tail.
Her tail hung limply, broken in several places, blood dripping to the brown earth. She turned and turned again, trying to see it, but could not. Then she ran, bursting through the crowd of rats, their laughter filling her head, their eyes again whirling in the air. She ran and ran. But whether it was from the rats or her broken and bleeding tail, she could not tell.
Buttons lay on her side, her legs twitching, her ears laid back against her smooth, rounded head. She whimpered in her sleep, and then began to snarl as a small red-and-white beagle rushed up the hill. It was Sally, and she stopped abruptly as she saw her best friend beginning to snarl. Sally moved forward quietly, until she stood beside Buttons. The beagle was worried, worried about her best friend and what was happening elsewhere. Well, first things first.
Sally gently nudged Buttons, poking her in the side, very gently at first, and then with greater urgency, whuffing as she did so. Buttons’s legs stopped, pawing the air, and her breath came more slowly. The Scottie dog’s ears perked up, and then her eyes opened. Then she leaped to her feet, snarling at Sally as though she still confronted the rat. But as full consciousness returned, she dropped her head, shame rushing over her like a blanket of fear. Trembling, she looked at her best friend, Sally. Seeing her for the first time, Buttons spoke.
“Oh, Sally, it’s so awful, so terribly awful. Every time. Every time I sleep, he’s there, laughing at me as they did that awful day the rats caught me.” She sighed deeply. “That day.”
Sally knew exactly what Buttons was speaking about, as Buttons had told her many times what had happened.
“That awful day, Sally. When they broke my tail.”
She would not look backward, knowing all too well what she would see. A broken and twisted tail. It was hateful. And it had been painful, as the evil, grinning Great Rat leader made sure.
Sally nudged her, shoulder to shoulder, rubbing her head against Buttons’s head. There was nothing to be said, Sally knew that, and did what she did best—quietly reassure her best friend with her presence, her gentle touch.
Buttons stood, and, taking a deep breath, said, “I won’t forget. But, he will not beat me. Not even in my dreams.” She looked hard at Sally. “I’m sorry to always be such a nuisance. But, but, well . . .”
Sally grinned. This was more like it. Buttons would recover fully from the dream. And, in time, to get on with more problems.
Slowly, Buttons stopped shivering as Sally walked shoulder to shoulder with her, reassuring her again and again. Sally was slightly taller than Buttons, and whereas Sally had slender legs which one day would carry her swiftly wherever she went, Buttons was stocky, and for a female Scottie, broad in the shoulders. Both were young and greatly appreciated by the inhabitants of the field and forest for their adventurous spirits and their ability to deal with problems others could not manage. Being young, their spirits were typically high and sometimes mischievous. Buttons recovered quickly. Clearly, Sally was deeply concerned about something. Something that would test both spirit and mind. Nightmares would have to wait.
Buttons turned to Sally, questions in her eyes.
Sally nodded and then answered without being asked. “We have real problems. Well, anyway, the otters do. Something terrible has happened. They need us. Now.”
Wasting no time for further discussion, both headed south towards the running river which lay at the edge of the Great Forest. Sally and Buttons broke through the forest brambles and up to the edge of the river. Two very large adult otters watched them from the opposite bank, sitting upright so nothing escaped their attention. Although the otter parents were very careful in the education of their young, playtime was theirs alone. But today, things were different, and Buttons and Sally had immediately sensed it. Something was wrong.
They turned and moved parallel to the river, several of the younger otters matching the two dogs’ pace easily in the water. Reaching the dam of the beaver tribe, they carefully made their way across, being particularly careful to disturb nothing. The beavers tolerated the two, but were short-tempered at the best of times. And this was not a good time. The sense of wrong and terrible deeds hung heavily in the early morning sun which filtered through the overhanging branches.
Buttons and Sally approached the elder otters cautiously. Although very good friends with one of the younger otters, Dodger, this was no time for games. Dodger sat at one side, his silence a warning greater than action or words. He simply stared at his two friends as they approached shoulder to shoulder, inseparable friends. The two, Scottie and beagle, stopped short of the two magnificent otters. Sleek and immaculately groomed as they were, they frowned, and the larger male actually bared fangs, something that Buttons and Sally had never witnessed before in all of their many visits and many pranks among their good friends, the young otters.
The female of the pair simply stated in muted tones, “One of the small ones disappeared two days ago.”
Buttons and Sally gasped. Sally blurted out, “You mean one of them drowned? Haven’t you looked downstream? That’s terrible.”
The older and larger male dropped to all fours, glaring at the small beagle, his eyes burning into the beagle’s. “No, that’s not what’s meant. One of them was taken. Taken right out of the den, at night, when his father and mother were absent for a few minutes.”
It was Sally’s turn to frown with horror and disbelief. Never in her experience had anything like it ever happened. She couldn’t believe it and wanted to know more.
Buttons stared in fascinated
horror also, not knowing what to do. She glanced over at Dodger who still sat, quietly watching the two. He had not moved forward.
“Surely,” thought the beagle to herself, “he cannot believe we had anything to do with it.”
But this was a ghastly occurrence. The otters were jealously protective of their young who freely roamed the river and its banks, oftentimes in the presence of the two dogs. Their parents had never interfered before, though it was quite uncommon for any other creatures to join the otters in ramblings along the river.
Stepping before the elders, both dogs nodded as Buttons carefully and respectfully addressed them. “Obviously, something terrible has happened. We will do what we can to help resolve the situation.”
The two elders sat upright again, and surveyed the two with sharp eyes and keen wits. They needed all the help they could muster, but these two young dogs. That was a matter for due consideration, but both knew there was no time for that. They quickly made up their minds.
“Quickly follow us.” The two elders moved off, followed by Buttons and Sally, glancing worriedly at one another. Dodger and two young otters followed at a distance, curiosity and fear making them watch the forest more carefully than ever before.
A muskrat slowly moved out of his den as they passed. He peered suspiciously at the group and chirped a short question, and then moved in line behind the small group.
Their goal lay at the far end of the row of dens, and both Buttons and Sally immediately moved forward to survey the surrounding wood which was quite close. The otters had stopped and allowed the two dogs to investigate on their own. They knew that while their own noses were very good, these two excelled.
Sally moved toward the wood as Buttons carefully slipped into the den, closely followed by the two inhabitants who immediately placed themselves before their newborn. They intently watched every move, their muscles bunched in anxiety.
The Adventures of Button Page 6
