Buttons slowly circumnavigated the deep and comfortable den, ignoring the parents guarding their newest litter, now smaller by the absence of one. Her nose close to the ground, she slowly moved about, stopping and sniffing more closely at displaced leaves. There was a musty odor. A feeling of fear began to grow in the midst of her belly, slowing growing as she continued to move about.
Yes. There it was again, nearer the litter. Stronger, too. The sensation of evil crawled up her spine, the hackles rising involuntarily along her back. The otter parents sensed something was wrong, but could not identify it. The small dog’s composure was rapidly disappearing as she moved toward the litter.
The parents glanced at one another as Buttons moved past them, not seeing the two in her concentration. She sniffed once, and then slowly took a deep breath, containing within it the sweet odor of the newborn otters and something else. She gently nudged a newborn to one side and sniffed deeply again.
Buttons’s eyes were large in her head as she turned to meet the worried expressions of parents and the elder otters who had moved in to observe the Scottie’s actions. Buttons had dropped her head to the ground once again after the first glance.
Stiff-legged, she moved by the otters, her nose following a trail neither otter nor dog could see, but one which was all to clear to the keen nose of Buttons, who was beginning to tremble with deep emotion. That emotion was becoming increasingly evident to the worried otters.
Buttons left the den and turned to the wood as Sally reappeared. She, too, like Buttons, was gripped by emotion and almost slipped into the river in her anxiety to reach her best friend.
The elder male otter wore streaks of silver fur on his face. His features were blank, and he said nothing. As the two dogs reached one another, his lips slowly curled upward and backward, baring large, white fangs. The normally smooth features became increasingly gaunt and fearful as the emotions emanating from the two dogs closed around him. The hair on his nape slowly rose as he moved forward to sit beside Buttons and Sally.
Sally turned to him, having to sit so that she could more clearly see his features. “Sir, Buttons knows what happened. She immediately recognized the smell.”
The large otter raised himself to scan the wood, and then quickly lowered himself to all fours and moved toward Buttons who was sniffing audibly, scanning back and forth, anxiety clearly written in her quick side-to-side movements. Her small feet were a blur of movement as she covered the ground about the den and between den and forest. She was snarling and her fangs were clearly visible. Anger and fear were readily evident.
As the otter’s approach caught her attention, she stopped. Though small, her defiance and anger were admirable. He paused as she slowly relaxed and the glitter in her eyes ebbed.
“You smell better than we, even after two suns have moved by. What is it that so disturbs you, little one?” The elder otter’s head moved to and fro, seeking to find what disturbed the small Scottie. “Please, it is our river and our young who are endangered. Share with us what you have found.”
His voice was low. Nice things were not happening. The otters moved closer to hear better. Sally waited for Buttons to speak.
Buttons looked up and at the same time began to tremble. She then moved further from the group of young ones. Turning, she addressed the elder otter. Her voice was taut and closely controlled.
She hissed, “The rat. He is back.” She could say no more at the moment as her strength almost gave out, Sally’s shoulder giving her more confidence than Buttons felt.
The elder knew the young dog in front of him was fearless and to see her fear made him shiver inwardly. There was more here than he and his group had suspected, and he began to wonder if he had made a mistake in not making the loss of a young one more widely known. But nothing had ever disturbed his group’s peace. The River Running was always there and had been the same in his memory. Now, something of which he knew nothing was intruding itself. He looked back at the row of dens along the riverbank. This was his home, nothing could be allowed to disturb it. But he felt helpless, only the two stalwart dogs standing between his clan and a danger unknown.
He turned and lifted his silver snout to the sky and whistled a pure, rich sound that carried to all corners of the river and its inhabitants. Peremptorily, he summed the other elders. They needed to know. Noses and then eyes, followed by the sleek bodies of young and elder otters emerged from the many dens. Some slithered into the water to swiftly make their way upstream, others simply ran as never before, their supple bodies moving gracefully in their leaping, scrambling rush to answer the sudden and unexpected summons. They gathered around, on all sides, shoving and pushing to be near their leader.
Others came as well. Muskrat and beaver moved more slowly, but they got there. Deer peered with frightened eyes from dense thickets as a small bear rolled into view, splashing into the river. Birds appeared in the sky and settled on nearby limbs of bush and tree. Even a rabbit or two dared to move into the sunlight, their long ears twitching to and fro to catch the least word.
As the many animals swarmed about the elder, he motioned them to silence, indicating by a nod where they were to sit.
Sally moved alongside Buttons and pressed next to her friend’s side. The elder looked down on the two dogs.
His voice was low and his fear and worry showed clearly on his aged features. There were many, and not all young, who shivered at his appearance. “Buttons,” he asked, “what is it? What’s wrong? Who is this rat?”
Buttons moved forward to stand before the elder, her head high, her eyes flashing in anger. Her tone was firm and her words carried to all inhabitants of the forest, field, and river present at that fateful moment.
“It is The Rat.” She stopped momentarily to reconsider. “No, it is the rats, all of them. And, there are many, indeed. This is not the first time they have entered the forest, but always before it has been unknown, except to a few. They are many and they are evil, cruel, and strong. They will dare anything. As you have suffered, so will others.”
At this announcement, there was a sudden rush of words from other creatures of the forest. A squirrel who sat on a limb of a tree overhanging the river cried out. “My little one. He disappeared several days ago. Oh, oh, oh,” she wailed, unable to say more. Birds ruffled wings angrily, their sharp words coming like spears, stabbing at the crowded river creatures. “My eggs were stolen . . . Oh, my babies. Last week, it happened, our nest was robbed also . . .” And so it went, until the elder otter whistled them all into silence.
Buttons looked around and up at the trees. “Yes, that is what they will do. They will steal eggs and young ones. They fear nothing or no one when in great numbers. We are all threatened. All creatures of the forest and field, and, yes, river, too.”
She stopped as several birds and other forest creatures hurried away to spread the word, and, more importantly, to protect their nests and dens. Nothing could stop them, and neither Sally nor Buttons could had they wanted to.
The elder otter looked down on the small dog. “How do you know all this? How did you come by such evil news?”
Buttons shuddered, her recurrent nightmares very fresh in her mind. Sally nudged her.
“Go on, tell them. They all need to know.”
Buttons looked at her closest friend and gulped, her insides churning. Then in a clear voice which broke only once, she told of her meeting with King Rat and his evil and cruel minions. She left nothing out. She described his cruel and vicious minions, their mean and twisted souls, their lust to kill and destroy. She told of the attack and said little of her attack and defense, though many could supply what was unsaid as they watched the anguish and pain of the small and brave Scottie. She relived the pain of her tail being broken and bloodied. She told of the many days that followed as her tail healed, the slow healing that left her tail curled against her rounded rump, ugly and twisted, never again to joyously fly above her back as she dashed through the forest.
Sh
e finished, “I remember his odor as though he were standing in front of me . . .” She sighed and looked about her.
Angry words came from all directions. Words of fear also were there, and doubt. The otters began to gather around their elder as other creatures began to do the same. Sally and Buttons looked at one another, and then Buttons took a deep breath. She did not want to say it, but it was necessary.
“There is no time for each clan to act by themselves. They will take all of us. All. One by one in the stealth and darkness of night, or during the day, if they must. Do you understand? No one can stand aside.” She stepped to a higher knob of the slopes of the river. “First,” Buttons said, “we warn everyone on the river.”
She looked to the young Dodger, the otter. “Off you go, take some friends. If you see Ms. Lucie, let her know everything immediately. She and the other birds see more of what passes in the forest than anyone else, though they don’t share much information with us.”
Buttons and Sally glanced at the otters and then were off to the shallow ford below the dam. Over their shoulder, they shouted, “We’ve got to find Ssserek!”
Before Dodger had time to answer or approach the elders, the two pups had disappeared into the forest.
Dodger quickly moved toward the eldest of the elders, and sitting quietly, coughed gently to catch their attention. The eldest was silver from snout to shoulders, and he turned slowly. His eyes were deep brown, and within their depths lay much experience, knowledge, and were it known, humor.
“Well, Dodger, get on with it. We don’t have all day.”
Dodger was taken by surprise. “Get, get, get,” he stuttered.
“On with it,” replied the eldest. “Get your group together and get the message out. We serve the river, you know. No dallying. Move!”
He chuckled as Dodger grinned back in sudden comprehension.
Then Dodger moved with the lithe quickness of his kind, rapidly gathering his peers around him. Then, they all moved, some up the river, some down. There was urgency in their swiftness, but no stumbling or fumbling. They knew what had to be done. Like Buttons and Sally. They had a message to carry, and they would.
Even as Dodger disappeared into the depths of the river, Sally’s bugling could be heard in the distance, calling all creatures to Ssserek’s rock. As Buttons and Sally made their way through the forest, now and again they stopped so that Sally could catch her breath before sending out her piercing bugle. It was not long before reached the clearing in which Ssserek’s rock was to be found. They hurried to the top to find both Ssserek and Ms. Lucie, a small sparrow of great wisdom and experience, waiting for them.
Buttons wasted no time but rushed up the small knob of a hill to the great flat stone on top. Ssserek lay coiled up, with Ms. Lucie perched comfortably on one as she and Ssserek spoke. Both looked down on the two pups as they appeared. Buttons breathlessly spoke to the two.
“Ssserek, we need your help, both of you. The rats are out. We must stop them.”
“Easy, my little one, Ms. Lucie and I were just discussing the recent depredations in the forest and field when we heard Sally’s summoning bugle. Well done.”
“But, Ssserek, you will help, won’t you?” Buttons’s tone was desperate. Under normal circumstances, Ssserek, the great serpent spent his time alone. Few creatures dare approach the rattlesnake; fewer still had any desire to do so, although all recognized his great knowledge. Buttons and Sally were the only two creatures who were to be found in his presence on any given day.
The great snake sighed. He and Ms. Lucie were just discussing the matter for both knew of the intrusion of the rats. Ssserek, of all creatures, knew them well, having met them at night as they crept about on their nefarious deeds. None survived such meetings, but it was not in his nature to pursue the matter further. The snake clan stayed to itself, having little commerce with others. He paused as he gazed down on the two small dogs, his eyes staring past them as he thought of his first meeting with Buttons. He sighed a second time. There would be no saying no to this smallest of Scotties.
As Buttons began to bounce back and forth before him, Ssserek smiled slowly. He sighed for the third, and last, time.
Ms. Lucie smiled to herself, recognizing the interplay taking place before her. Buttons’s boundless energy transmitted itself to everyone around her. Ssserek was needed and Buttons was the only one who could engage his fullest attention at such a time.
Ssserek lifted his head, looking about as other creatures began to make their way into the clearing. He looked at Buttons and Sally, Buttons moving back and forth in her ceaseless and youthful impatience.
“Yesssss,” he said slowly, “I will help. I have met them. What will you have me do?”
Buttons and Sally leaped upon him, joy in their voices. They turned to view the many animals slowly filling the clearing. Deer, rodent, and birds. Their leaders came, grudgingly in some cases, but they came. Soon, all were in deep conversation as Buttons and Sally spoke of the happenings along the river. Ssserek and Ms. Lucie spoke and everyone listened. Ssserek’s concern was far greater than anyone knew. He spoke of the Great Swamp, the dark depths of which held Rat Island, until recently the only gathering place for the rat clan.Few could approach it and live. Fewer still wanted to see it, or its inhabitants.
Many of the larger creatures moved away from the clearing. Certainly, they had nothing to fear from rats, but the urgency in Buttons’ voice kept them near. They would at least listen before going their own way. This was no concern of theirs.
Three woverines slowly moved forward, Their long coats brushed the ground with each step. The largest and the one with grayest snout led and then moved in front, parting the other creatures like a dreadnaught of old. He paused, and bowing to Ssserek, raised his head. He spoke quietly as was his habit, but his words carried to all. “We are few in number, but we know the rats for what they are. We fight!”
Ssserek nodded and went on.
“The message must go out. Everyone must know, creatures small and large, for the rats would not hesitate to attack even the larger creatures if the rats were in large numbers.’’
As Ssserek and Ms. Lucie spoke, all listened. Ms. Lucie represented all birds, and her message was most urgent. She must know what was going on. Although most birds had little to do with those who walked on four legs, their vision was keen and they must share their sightings.
And so the message went out far and wide, Buttons and Sally leading the way throughout the day and into the night.
Across the fields and the Great Forest, even across the Great Swamp itself, the message went out. Deep into the forest and swamp it went. All small creatures, rodents, and others gathered and talked. They had the most to fear.
The birds, at Ms. Lucie’s encouragement, became increasingly involved and their patrols could be seen passing to and fro overhead. Squirrels, chipmunks, gophers, field mice, and others watched and listened. Nights were long and the usual rustlings and movements were quieted.
All the wild hogs and peccaries, Biff the bear and his kin, the deer, and others soon became more involved. No one could be left out. None were.
Still, even with the best of watchfulness, the depredations against the young ones continued. The soft chirruping call for a lost young one could be heard each morning. Even the birds in their nests were not immune. Ducks, geese, and other water birds suffered the greatest losses, their precious eggs disappearing with regularity. Fox, ferret, and coyote began to patrol the edges of ponds, their appetites whetted on an anger never before experienced, honed by the carnage about them.
Buttons and Sally were everywhere, speaking to everyone they met. Natural enemies must come together. The attacks were tearing the very fabric of the forest, field, and river apart. The loss of young ones would deplete the forest and field of all life. The loss of beavers threatened water supplies of the herds of mustangs and other larger animals. Small pools of once clean and clear water were being fouled by the rats. Diseases he
retofore unknown were beginning to appear.
Rodents of the fields, like the water birds, suffered untold deaths. Even fawns had been attacked by increasingly larger groups of rats who would suddenly leap upon the sleeping creature in the still of the night, ripping the life from the young before the doe could react. Rabbits were pursued into their complex warrens, prairie dog towns disappeared, and increasingly, bold, single rats could be seen during the day, insolently sitting in open areas, sunning themselves where once the young innocently played.
Nightly, Buttons and Sally patrolled the fields to listen to the messages and words being passed across the land. Even their keen ears could not pick up the passage of small feet and hungry, red eyes that moved closer and closer to the Great Field.
Then one day, they were moving toward the forest along a well-known trail when suddenly their passage was blocked by the enormous figure of their friend, Biff, the black bear.
He woofed gently as his short-sighted eyes peered down at them. He knew them well, but still his bulk prevented their movement forward along the trail.
“Hey, what’s up, Biff?,” they said together, wonder and worry in their voices. “What do you think you’re doing? Let us by.”
“Can’t,” he answered, still sitting squarely in their way. “Orders, you know.”
Buttons cocked one eyebrow as she inspected the bear, bulging with spring’s first berries. “Whose orders?” She waited as the bear looked around, scanning the bushes, then the trees.
“Well, it’s this way. Ssserek told me to patrol this trail. So, I’m patrolling it.” With a wicked gleam of humor in his eyes, he couldn’t help but add, “And you.”
Buttons moved up to sit before Biff’s nose. “Look, fatso, no one’s told us anything about big, porky old bears telling us what to do.”
Then, she darted to one side as Sally took the other. But as quickly as the two could move, Biff was faster. Sweeping out his great limbs and fanning his claws, he deftly gathered them in as a child would his favorite toys.
The Adventures of Button Page 7
