Angry Bison stopped chewing. He raised his head a little and looked at Hare.
‘Go on, move!’ Hare repeated. ‘Get out of my way!’
Angry Bison shuffled his feet. ‘Oh,’ he snuffled. ‘Sorry.’ And he moved to one side.
Hare stood as straight and tall as possible and walked past. Angry Bison gazed at him, as if he was also struggling to make sense of it all.
Hare was getting braver by the second. His long ears danced jauntily. He strutted back and forth in front of Bison several times.
‘There,’ he said. ‘You see? Easy, isn’t it? You can move out of the way too.’ Then, rather alarmed at the tone of his own voice he added: ‘I’m going home now. Goodbye.’ And with that Hare marched back to the little log cabin. His heart was beating fast.
It was only as he opened the front door that he suddenly remembered he was supposed to be warning Flamingo about the ghastly green soup. He stopped, looked back at a muddle-headed Bison staring after him and he sighed.
Anyhow, a rather unusual smell was drifting from the kitchen.
‘Ah, where have you been?’ asked Armadillo. He dipped a spoon into the saucepan and held it out to Hare. ‘You’re just in time to try this. I’ve added some cheese.’
Hare gulped. Was there no escape? The spoon was heading his way. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He took a tiny sip and sneezed violently.
Armadillo wiped his front. ‘I didn’t ask for it back,’ he said.
‘Peppery,’ was all Hare could say. ‘Sorry.’ He went on to tell Armadillo about his meeting with Angry Bison.
‘That was brave of you,’ Armadillo declared, full of admiration.
‘I don’t think Bison is quite as angry as we thought,’ said Hare.
‘You are probably right, my long-eared friend. He was seeing everything as a problem. But then you helped him see that he was most of the problem himself. Well done, Hare!’
‘I didn’t know I was doing all that,’ said Hare, tugging at one ear.
‘Doesn’t matter.’ Armadillo shook his head and smiled. ‘You did it. Now, let’s take this Special Soup over to Flamingo.’
The two friends found a queue waiting patiently beside Flamingo’s bath. Everyone wanted to help her recover from her sore throat. Tortoise had brought a small bunch of flowers. Elephant presented her with a mudpack. Bear (of the polar variety) had brought first aid.
‘I’m almost a doctor,’ he growled. ‘Bandages are always a good idea.’
Giraffe handed her a small teddy. ‘I’ve had it since I was born. It’s always been a comfort for me. Please don’t suck it.’
Flamingo raised her enormous beak and sniffed at Armadillo’s Special Soup. ‘Oh, Pops darling, you shouldn’t have!’
But it was Lobster who brought the cure – a small jar of sea water. ‘Salt water is a well-known cure for a sore throat. Have you ever seen a lobster with a sore throat? Or a fish? No, because we gargle sea water all day.’
Flamingo was ecstatic. ‘Sea water! Oh – so calming, so healing. Lobster, sweetie! You have extinguished the raging bonfires in my blazing gullet. Thank you!’
Lobster puffed out her chest and gave everyone a triumphant look. ‘Once I knew Flamingo had a sore throat, it was obvious she would need my help.’
Giraffe rolled his eyes. Elephant murmured, ‘Phoowee’ very quietly, and wondered if he could have his mudpack back.
Jaguar turned to Armadillo and purred in his ear, ‘Do you think lobsters taste nice? I was just wondering.’ She might have winked as she spoke. Hare wasn’t sure.
Animal or Vegetable?
All night long Flamingo had serenaded the full moon as it floated through the starry heavens. Armadillo snored and dreamed of giant cheese sandwiches. Outside, beneath the creamy moon, Armadillo’s vegetables grew. And grew.
Morning arrived. Armadillo opened his eyes, only to see a long bean hanging over his open window sill. His eyes widened. The big leaves around it made it look like Elephant’s head and trunk.
‘Hare! Come and look at this!’
Hare came into Armadillo’s bedroom, stifling a yawn that quickly turned into a chuckle. ‘It is Elephant, isn’t it?’ Hare went to the window and looked out. ‘Have you seen your vegetables this morning? Come and look.’
They stared out of the window. Cucumbers and beans were climbing up the side of the house and had reached the roof. It looked as if the sky had been raining tomatoes all night.
Hare scratched his ears. ‘I know the full moon helps plants grow but this is extraordinary.’
‘It’s a vegetable explosion,’ Armadillo grunted. ‘What am I going to do with them all?’
The pair studied the invading plants.
‘That bean really does look like Elephant,’ Hare remarked.
But Armadillo was having a struggle. When a cardigan has three sleeves instead of two, it’s hard to know which sleeve to choose when you’ve only just got up.
‘Actually, Hare, that bean looking like Elephant has given me an idea. We could have a vegetable competition. Why don’t we ask everyone to use our extra vegetables to make models of themselves, or each other, or just things? That might get rid of the whole lot!’
‘Bear made from tomatoes and beans!’ shouted Hare.
‘Angry Cucumber Bison!’ added Armadillo, before they both fell to the floor, heaving with laughter.
Word went out about the competition and it was astonishing how quickly the pile of vegetables went down. Wombat filled the front basket on her bicycle twenty-six times. Elephant took half the tomatoes.
Even Tortoise made seven slow trips. ‘But I have eaten some,’ he confessed. ‘Is that allowed?’
‘Eat as much as you like.’ Armadillo smiled as he watched the pile go down.
Jaguar spent a long time selecting a cucumber, a few beans and a small, unripe tomato.
‘Is that all?’ asked Armadillo, disappointed.
‘Dignity is everything,’ Jaguar answered over her shoulder as she padded gracefully away.
Only Flamingo took nothing. That was because Armadillo and Hare had asked her to be one of the judges, along with themselves.
‘Darlings!’ she cried. ‘I am dazzled beyond dazzlement. Of course I shall be a judge. And afterwards, we shall dance and sing! We shall prance in all our bling! And I shall wear – oh, you will be amazed!’ Flamingo’s eyes shone like entire galaxies. ‘Darlings, I am fabulous in pink! I can’t wait!’
Flamingo was not the only excited creature in the Big Forest. The animals hid themselves away as they worked on their vegetable creations.
Competition Day arrived, and in the early evening the animals began to gather at Flamingo’s bath beside the lake.
Flamingo filled lanterns with fireflies. Giraffe brought his chandelier and hung it on a high branch. Bear set up his drum kit. Hare settled with his tuba and Invisible Stick Insect struck up on the triangle. Ping! The music began. As Hare blew into his magical instrument, out floated balloons, party hats, rainbow bubbles and vegetables of every variety.
One by one the animals paraded their creations.
Elephant had smothered himself in tomatoes. ‘I’m the Ketchup Elephant,’ he said. ‘Phoowee! Sorry about all the flies.’
Armadillo found himself thinking about dignity, but then he saw Tortoise.
Tortoise had carefully placed a layer of overlapping cucumbers down his back. They looked like scales. Thin beans stuck out of his mouth like whiskers.
Hare clapped his paws. ‘That’s you, Armadillo! Isn’t Tortoise clever? He’s even got your red slippers with the curled-up toes.’
‘Oh yes,’ murmured Armadillo. ‘Red peppers on the feet. Ingenious.’
Giraffe strode majestically past the judges. He was covered from head to toe with all the bean poles which still had beans clinging to them. ‘I am Invisible Beanstick Insect,’ he announced.
Lobster jumped up. ‘Disqualified! We can see you. You’re not invisible at all!’
‘Oh, Lobster, give it a rest!’ snapped Armadillo. ‘We’re just having fun.’
In reply, Lobster stretched out her claws. Bits of spinach and coriander hung down like wings. A necklace of radishes was draped round her neck, and on her head was a crown of broccoli.
‘Darling!’ cried Flamingo. ‘How sweet. It’s a tiny green me! Look, everyone. A green flamingo!’
Jaguar entered the arena. She held up her work. A single, long cucumber had thin beans sticking out on either side like legs. At one end of the cucumber there was a small, green tomato head.
‘Invisible Stick Insect and I made this together,’ Jaguar explained. ‘It is a portrait of her. Normally she’s so like a twig you can’t see her, but now you can.’
Wombat had wrapped herself in cabbage and lettuce leaves. Being a rather round animal she was able to roll along the ground past the judges’ feet. ‘I’m a pea!’ she called out as she bundled past them and crashed into a bush.
Even Mouse took part. She popped out of Armadillo’s cardigan pocket, covered in cheese crumbs. ‘I’m a bit of Gorgonzola,’ she squeaked, ‘and Cheddar.’
Finally, Bear appeared. He casually tossed a long colourful scarf round his neck. It had been made from green leaves, red peppers and courgette flowers. Bear posed himself carefully. From behind his back he produced the longest cucumber the Big Forest had ever seen. It had been carefully sliced in half lengthways. Bear raised the two halves to the top of his head and held them there, pointing at the sky.
‘It’s you, Hare!’ yelled Armadillo, leaping to his feet. ‘With cucumber ears! Bravo!’ Everyone was laughing. The judges huddled together and a decision was made. Flamingo raised her wings and stepped forward.
‘Darlings! What a wonderful extravaganza! But we must have a winner. Who will it be! Yes, the judges have agreed. Bear (of the whatsit variety) – you are our champion. Well done! And now, music! Dancing! Thrills and frills, mostly pink ones.’
The band was about to start when a dark, hulking figure stepped out of the Big Forest. It was Angry Bison. A tense silence descended. But Bison looked different. He was a meek and mild bison.
‘I’ve come to apologise to you all for my rudeness,’ Bison began. ‘And before I go, I wanted to thank Hare for making me realise how it feels. I must hurry now. I have to tell all the others. I really must dash. It’s such good news.’
Bison turned and made a last crashing disappearance amongst the trees.
‘Thank me for what?’ asked Hare, mystified. ‘What others?’
Armadillo smiled into the darkness. ‘There’s more than one angry bison in the world. They usually arrive in giant herds, all thundering along at the same time. They don’t give way to anything. You made him understand how uncomfortable that is for anyone in the way. And now he’s gone! Strike up the band!’
Soon the band was blasting away. Flamingo disappeared into her wardrobe and closed the door. Most of the animals began to dance.
Armadillo collapsed onto a bench and watched. Hare knew that Armadillo hated dancing, so he joined his companion.
‘What an evening,’ Hare remarked. ‘I did think Bear was brilliant.’
‘Oh, he had you perfectly,’ chuckled Armadillo, ‘especially when he just stood there, posing.’
‘I don’t do that, do I?’ asked Hare, rather shocked at the idea.
‘Not deliberately. But when you stand still you do sometimes look as if you’re practising to become a statue.’
‘Oh dear. Oh dear.’
‘Not at all, my dear chap. We all love you for it. Now get back in there and carry on blowing into your tuba. I shall strike a pose of my own on this bench.’
But Hare was hardly on his feet when a loud ‘Oooooh!’ went up from the crowd. The wardrobe doors swung open and out stepped Flamingo. She was a shimmering coral vision.
Bear was drumming up an earthquake. Invisible Stick Insect even managed to dent her triangle.
Flamingo opened her beak and sang. Her voice soared and swooped. The more she sang the higher she went, barely flapping her wings in a glorious aerial dance. She seemed to glow with stardust as she twisted and turned, folding and opening her wings like great fans.
Finally, Flamingo floated slowly back to earth, and as her toes touched the ground she slowly slid into the splits.
The crowd went wild.
Armadillo wiped a small tear from the corner of one eye. ‘Genius,’ he whispered. ‘Sheer genius.’
‘Phoowee,’ murmured Elephant, crossing his legs. ‘That must hurt a bit.’
Late that night, Armadillo and Hare made their way home across the moonlit meadow.
‘I do think Flamingo is quite the most extraordinary creature,’ Armadillo murmured.
‘Yes,’ Hare answered slowly. He was lost in his own thoughts. ‘You know, I hardly said anything to Bison. I don’t see how I could have changed him.’
Armadillo threw an arm round Hare’s shoulders as they walked. ‘Sometimes a few simple words achieve much more than grand speeches,’ he said. ‘Come on. Let’s get home. It’s late and the cheese is calling me.’
Thousands of miles above them, the stars silently glittered in the deep, dark sky. Flamingo’s lilting voice drifted over the treetops as she sang a last lullaby for all the friends in the Big Forest.
Armadillo and Hare’s Short Discussion
Armadillo and Hare were sitting out on the porch and watching the sun set behind the Big Forest. Armadillo stretched out his legs and settled his toes comfortably in his slippers.
‘You know,’ began Hare, ‘you said that one day you would tell me the story of your favourite slippers.’
‘Hmm. Are you sure you’re not just putting off doing the washing-up? You do know it’s your turn?’
‘Of course, but I told you all about my tuba, and now I want to know about your slippers.’
‘Very well,’ said Armadillo. ‘It was several years before you arrived here and one afternoon there was a knock at the door. When I opened it I saw a creature I had never seen the like of. She had beautiful reddy-brown fur and a very bushy tail with stripes. She told me she was a red panda and had come from Nepal.’
‘Nepal?’ Hare was astonished. ‘She had travelled all that way to the Big Forest?’
‘Quite,’ nodded Armadillo. ‘She said she was journeying around the world and she needed somewhere safe to stay for a night or two. Of course I couldn’t say “no”. In the end she stayed for a week.
‘She told me some wonderful tales about the places she had been. Then one evening I noticed that she had beautiful blue softleather shoes. She said they were the most comfortable shoes she had ever had. I held them and couldn’t believe how soft the leather was.
‘Eventually she went travelling on, and I never saw her again. But a year and three days later a small parcel arrived. When I opened it there were these red slippers that I am wearing now. There was a note, thanking me for the time we spent together. She had finally travelled back to her own country and family.’
Armadillo stopped for a moment. ‘I guess you could say that my slippers have almost as much story in them as your tuba.’
Hare nodded happily. ‘It’s nice to have something like that to remember someone by.’
Armadillo nodded. ‘Small things are the most important things of all,’ he said. He nodded wisely and looked across at Hare. ‘And I think there are several important small things in the sink that need washing up.’
Hare pulled a face and sighed. ‘All right. I’m going.’
Copyright
Armadillo and Hare and the Flamingo Affair (Small Tales from the Big Forest)
First published in 2021
by David Fickling Books, 31 Beaumont Street, Oxford, OX1 2NP
This ebook edition first published in 2021
All rights reserved
Text © Jeremy Strong, 2021
Cover and illustrations © Rebecca Bagley, 2021
The right of Jeremy Strong and Rebecca Bagley to be ident
ified as author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN 978–1–78845–217–5
Armadillo and Hare and the Flamingo Affair Page 4
