The Adventures of Button

by M. D. Richard W. Leech

  Only later as the two dogs returned home did their thoughts turn to a more serious matter. They had met Ssserek earlier as they moved toward the river. The great serpent greeted them with his usual good humor, but he was clearly on his way and would not tarry more than the moment it took to tell the two dogs. Word had come to him that a small serpent clan at the distant northern edge of the Great Field was in danger from a new construction company. He knew the field and forest were off-limits to construction, the Great Swamp and its surrounding forest and field were part of a greater wildlife preserve. Still, the small bird that brought the message insisted that the distant serpents required his presence. He would see himself.

  Buttons and Sally both immediately agreed to go with him, but he refused their aid. This was a serpent matter, and besides, their presence at home was required. They had sighed at his refusal, but knew he would have it his way. Individual serpents they knew and loved, but in the matter of clan business, they recognized the strong ties that existed between one serpent and his clan. For Ssserek, all clans mattered. He was gone before either dog had had a good opportunity to question him further.

  The next day, they were off to the swamp, romping freely along the swamp’s edge looking for Delph, the alligator. He was always ready for fun and provided excellent transportation around the swamp. With him, there could be no danger, and many shy animals who would otherwise disappear instantly at the first sight of any stranger, or the alligator alone, waited to greet the two dogs. Then Buttons and Sally would have much fun in quizzing the many small creatures they would meet in a day’s time.

  But Delph was nowhere to be found. No tracks. Nothing. Only later in the day did a small blackbird swoop down to stand in front of them. Nodding his head up and down, he reassured that he meant no harm.

  Both dogs laughed politely. One small blackbird could hardly prove any danger.

  Buttons smiled as she asked, “And, what can we do for you, small friend?”

  The blackbird nodded again and again, twisting his head to view them with one eye and then the other.

  “Well, you see. I, uh, I saw you seeking something along the shore. When I thought of it, I recalled seeing you in the company of that creature . . . I mean . . . the alligator. He always seems to be with you.”

  “Yes,” replied Sally. “We were seeking him. He’s a very good friend.”

  The blackbird coughed gently as he watched the two. Such silly creatures. Surely, these two could hardly be what the magnificent, and terribly frightful, raven was after. After all, how could these two injure the raven, much less the rats. Well, he would say what he been told to say and be off to report.

  “Well, you see, I saw the alligator swimming northward this morning. He seemed to be hurrying, so of course, I didn’t detain him. He said he would be back in several days since it is a long journey.”

  “Darn,” blurted out Sally. “Bet he’s off to be with Ssserek.”

  The small blackbird grinned to himself. Yes, they would believe anything. Such simpletons. He bobbed several more times and then begged to depart, which he promptly did before more questions could be asked.

  “Yeah,” muttered Buttons. “Darn, he is right. Just wait until they get back. Oh, well. Let’s go see how the groundhogs are doing.”

  “Good idea,” responded the beagle. “We haven’t been there in a long time.”

  Both the young dogs had a good day and parted that afternoon earlier than usual because Buttons was due for her monthly grooming session at the local grooming parlor, one of her favorite places-. She never missed it, and early the next morning would be out rolling freely in the dirt and bush. Only when she was thoroughly covered would she sit up, grinning at the thought of her boy’s first words when she returned. Sally always went along with the gag. It was, after all, a good one.

  Thus, it was on the following morning when Buttons was at her favorite spot for rolling and scratching her back. To and fro she wiggled, enjoying every moment. She had a care for nothing else. It felt so good.

  “Hmmm . . . hmmmm,” she hummed to herself. Finally she sat up and looked around. Strange. No Sally. She barked briefly, expecting an immediate answer from close by. No answer.

  Buttons began to walk back and forth, casting about for any sign of her best friend. But there were no footprints. No odors in the morning breezes. Nothing.

  She barked louder. She couldn’t bugle like Sally, and her voice would not carry very far. Well, she would go looking. With that thought, Buttons was off.

  First, around the Great Field. That took time. Then, toward the river. More time. By noon, Buttons was tired and had to rest. It was very quiet. The breeze had stopped, and she would enter the forest quickly to take advantage of the cool shade. Having rested a short time, she was soon off, crossing the forest using their favorite paths. No sigh.

  Buttons stopped for another brief rest. Strange. How very strange. It was not like Sally, who was punctuality itself. Buttons was the one usually guilty of forgetting meeting times. Easily, distraction went with her youth. But not with the serious Sally. An unusual feeling crawled slowly up her back.

  Buttons quickly glanced about. Getting the shakes already. But something was wrong. She hurried on, more often glancing carefully around. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Dark shadows appeared in her mind, tumbling one after the other, scrambling for something to grab. But there was nothing to hold on to. Just dark shadows without substance.

  She reached the swamp’s edge and glanced at both directions. None of her usual friends. Delph. She missed him most of all. Now, she needed him badly.

  She sniffed the air. There was something there now. Very faint. And distant. She turned in that direction and was off, running with her quick, short strides that covered ground remarkably fast.

  The odor was steadily growing stronger. But it was all wrong. Sally, but not Sally. Salty, too.

  She rounded a small hummock of long grass. There it was. Very close now. She skidded to a stop, a ridge of hair involuntarily rising along her spine. She could see discoloration on the grass. And, there was a spotchy patch on the sand.

  She moved forward, carefully examining her surroundings. No one there now. She put her nose to blotch on the sand. Blood! Blood! That’s what was wrong. Sally, and yet, not Sally. Not as Buttons knew her.

  But it was Sally’s blood, all right. No doubt. Too much. She had to be in grave danger. Buttons stopped, backtracking slowly. On the leaves rising before her. Another’s blood. Rat blood. “Rats,” her brain shouted.

  “Oh, you ninny. Of course, only they would attack Sally.” She scanned the ground more closely. The prints were everywhere, now that she was using her brain. Maybe not many. But more than enough for the small beagle, no matter how she might have fought. Too quick for her to bugle or call out.

  Well, they would have to deal with Buttons now. Buttons raised her head and scanned the far shore of the swamp only vaguely to be seen in the rising mists. There! There! She had to be there. Buttons could and would follow.

  No Ssserek. No Delph. Well, she could do it on her own. The difficulty would be great, but she would go now. The blood made the situation much more immediate and far more dangerous. So be it.

  Buttons turned, and, putting her nose down so she could more easily follow the trail, left the scene of the battle which had put Sally in the clutches of the rats.

  She could not move as swiftly as she would have liked, but it was sure this way. She made steady headway, glancing at the small peninsula that jutted out into the swamp. Yes. Probably there, and from there, trees and tussocks of grass. She would make it.

  She did not hear them approaching, but two figures suddenly appeared out of nowhere and were immediately at her sides. She stopped and whirled to meet the newest danger.

  Buttons grunted and sat. “Oh, it’s you two.”

  Toby, the bobcat grinned at her apparent annoyance and butted Cross-eye, the tomcat who stood next to him. Cross-eye sidled up to Butt
ons and rubbed against her shoulder.

  “Oorrrrh,” was his best purr, a rough, grumbling sound with which he irritated Buttons no end.

  “Oh, cut it out you two knot heads. Just what are you up to now?” She stood and shoved Cross-eye away.

  Although she had helped to raise him, he brought back dark memories which she did not like to remember. But, they loved one another in their own way, though neither would ever admit it.

  Cross-eye had grown into a fine and large tomcat who found a natural ally in the bobcat with whom he roamed the forest and field at all hours of the day or night.

  The males grinned at one another as Toby answered. “We met Ssserek on his way north. He was angry but calmed when he saw us. He looked us over, only as he can, and then said, ‘You two will find Buttons and go wherever she goes. Understood?’”

  “Well, he just up and left us standing there. No explanations or anything else.”

  Cross-eye added, “And just what are you doing?” He grinned even more widely because he knew that splutter and carry on as she might, she would not say no to their presence.

  “Well, come on, twits!”

  She turned and was off and running, her nose close to the ground. She did not hesitate when the pencil of a peninsula appeared before them. She turned and raced out along its irregular surface, studded as it was with hummocks of grass, brush, small broken trees, and other impediments. The two cats easily matched her best stride and simply went over what she had to maneuver around.

  The scent of fresh blood was in Buttons’s nose. It was Sally’s. Plenty had been spilled, as was obvious to both cats who frowned more and more as they progressed.

  They quickly reached the end of the small peninsula, and Buttons rested for a moment as she contemplated the difficulties which lay ahead. Just how she could spot small, partially or completely submerged dangers, she didn’t know.

  Just then, from overhead came a loud and crackling “Caw, caw, caw. Wait. Buttons. Hold up.”

  All three looked up in time to see a very large crow settling to a limb of an old dead tree. It was JW—J. Wellington Blackbird, that is. He was a large and very officious bird who was raucous at his best, speaking in loud and harsh tones. This time it was different as he glanced about and closely peered at the two cats. On more than one occasion, only his great vigilance had saved feathers from their sharp caresses. Now, he spoke in quiet tones.

  “Careful, Buttons. Neither of the cats can see what I can from the air. Haste is necessary, but we must be wary. Very careful;they do awful things to Sally.”

  Buttons shuddered as she remembered the rats and their cruelty.

  Cross-eye spoke up. “OK, JW. Just what do we have to do? And relax. You’ve nothing to fear from us. Right?” He looked carefully at Toby, whose eyes had narrowed, only the slits of his yellow pupils shining.

  “Not to worry, JW But tell us. What’s going on? That the rats have Sally, we already know. And it’s all too obvious the blood-letting is a trap.”

  “And so it is,” JW responded. “They had a very neat trap, several of the largest simply smashing her into the sand as they slashed her hide. Then away. The same path you’re on now.”

  “And just how do you know all of this?,” Buttons queried.

  “A little bird told me. A very little blackbird. The same who sent Ssserek and Delph on their mission north.” He spoke harshly as he recalled the questioning of the rats’ small tattletale.

  “Does Ssserek know? Or Delph?” Buttons spoke anxiously now. Their mission was terribly laden with danger without them.

  JW replied, “I have sent for them. But even if they know now, they couldn’t reach us in time.”

  Both cats groaned inwardly. Like Buttons, they knew what lay ahead now. It would be dangerous, indeed, at the very best.

  “Not to fear, there’s always hope and others.” JW spoke in his boldest and harshest tones. He took to the air before further questions could be asked.

  Buttons frowned, thinking deeply to herself. Fortunate for them that the large blackbird had seen what he had and acted as he did. Maybe Ssserek and Delph would make it, maybe not. She moved forward without hesitation. So it would be.

  Toby frowned as he followed. The water held no terror for him.

  Cross-eye followed the bobcat readily. He could swim when he had to, and together they could take care of Buttons. But as he moved forward behind Toby, he couldn’t help but think. “But, just what did he mean, ‘and others’?”

  As they moved across tussocks of grass, small islands just the water’s surface, and fallen trees, each struggled with their own thoughts. An attack must come. But where? When? How many rats?

  Buttons had to fight not only the difficult passage, but her fear for her close friends who climbed and swam beside her, and particularly for Sally who was now certainly being tormented by the vicious rats. They could take infinite time in their tortures, and certainly would be waiting for Buttons’s arrival.

  She started to sigh, but swallowed warm swamp water, and in it the sweet taste of Sally. She coughed and hacked wretchedly as she fought to clear her mouth and throat.

  Toby closed beside her. “Easy, Buttons, old girl. We’ll get you there in fine shape.”

  Buttons glared at him as he winked broadly at her. “Sure you will, old buddy, but what shape will we leave in?”

  “Not to worry, Buttons, mom. You couldn’t possibly look any worse than you do now.”

  Buttons would have taken a bite out of the cross-eyed cat could she have reached him. But, indeed, he was at least partially right. She was thoroughly soaked. To her once fine coat clung burrs and bugs of various colors. Grass and long leaves clung to her, trailing behind and leaving a trail of mud which clouded the water.

  Ahead, JW urged them on in soft tones as he weaved side to side, seeking the hidden trail. Sighting a submerged log, or island of grass, he would dip and hover over it until the three arrived, then on again, peering, dipping, seeking. Now and again, he would rise above tree level and look intently toward their goal. No signs of them yet. But when? He, too, fretted, something a blackbird seldom did.

  The stench of the swamp filled Buttons’s nose. It was becoming worse as they advanced. Just the odor alone would be enough now. She dripped muck and bugs as her sides heaved while they rested atop the roots of a long, dead tree. Even Cross-eye and Toby were beginning to show their weariness. Making sure Buttons had sure footing was difficult for the two cats, and the strength and stamina it required was indeed great. Almost too much, but they would never admit it.

  Deep in thought, the raven smiled to himself as he moved awkwardly along the shore. Indeed, the trail was long and difficult. Upon that rested much of his plan. Surely, the little black dog would come with friends. It would be so much easier if they were very tired after their long journey.

  JW sailed into sight. Cawing with relief he shouted, “Just ahead. Elderwood. Be careful. The rats are evil, the raven even more so. He is the cleverest of the bad lot.”

  Toby grinned, white fangs gleaming through a face covered with mud and the floating debris of the swamp. “Not to worry, old fellow. We know how to deal with such as them.”

  JW would have huffed and fluffed his feathers but knew better. The two cats would need all of the courage they could muster. He sailed on ahead, worry fogging his mind. The danger was great, and something was wrong. Something terrible was wrong, but he put no word to it.

  The three moved cautiously forward. A shelf of soft muck and rock greeted them and they moved on more easily. Several dead logs rose out of the increasingly firm footing. Smaller stumps stood like sentinels before the logs. They were known as the fangs of Elderwood, and like the needle-sharp fangs of rats, they barred easy access to the nearest firm land.

  Toby and Cross-eye moved easily along the fangs, seeking an avenue through them. Buttons yelped softly as she wallowed along the row of teeth. “Over here, you two. Here’s a place.”

  The opening stood
near the large logs which jutted out like leaning pylons, funneling all traffic toward the single opening. Buttons moved through before either cat could say anything. Toby surged forward, his throat suddenly very tight as the small figure of Buttons disappeared from view. Cross-eye was not far behind when the cry of Buttons came to their ears.

  Both swam rather than plow through the muddy bottom. Sounds of battle were clear. Both cats had their ears laid back along their heads, their eyes seeking out the enemy. As they emerged into the small lagoon behind the fangs, rats could be seen diving from the large logs which lay around, swimming in small clusters toward Buttons and the three large rats who were engaging her from several directions.

  Buttons had already dispatched one rat, to the amazement of the other attackers. Even in the water which hindered her movements, she had immediately attacked. The first to reach her paid the price of pride. She had surged out of the water to come down on top. Grabbing him by the neck, she had shaken him once and tossed him aside, neck broken, as she turned to face the others.

  Toby was a bit faster than Cross-eye, and struck the attacking rats from the side. His broad paws gripped the water easily, and his claws were lethal with each stroke. Cross-eye, in his anger, simply grabbed flank, shoulder, side. He cared not one bit. The result was the same, a squalling rat who soon floated among his other dead companions.

  As fast as the attack had come, it was over as quickly.

  The three stood on the firmer ground of the lagoon. No live rat was to be seen. The logs lay about, but no enemy stood upon them. Nothing was visible on the shore. No! There was something, a dark mound.