Wild Moose Chase

by Siobhan Rowden

  Her anxious voice bounced off the damp walls and fell into thick silence. She began fumbling in her coat for the torch but her fingers were numb. She took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic.

  “Bert? Where are you? Are you all right?”

  Something scuttled past her on the wall, hissing softly. She backed away, still feeling for the torch, and tripped over a large lump on the floor.

  “OW!” yelled Bert. “Watch where you’re going!”

  “Oh, thank goodness that’s you,” cried Cam, reaching for her brother. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, not much,” he said, rubbing his temple and slowly getting to his feet. “My head aches, though.”

  “Mine too,” she whispered. “But that’s the least of our problems. I don’t think we’re alone. Listen, there’s something else down here.”

  They stood huddled together. The low hissing sound seemed to be coming from all around them.

  “Where’s the torch?” gulped Bert.

  Cam finally managed to pull it out of her coat with a shaking hand and pressed the switch. The moment it lit up the hissing stopped. It took a moment for the twins’ eyes to get used to the light. They were in a low rocky chamber. Rotten wooden pillars held up the crumbling ceiling and the grey stone walls were covered in large brown patches.

  Bert took a deep breath. “I’m not scared of heights,” he said. “I’m not scared of wild animals or going fast or anything like that. But I don’t like enclosed spaces that smell like death.”

  It was hard to breathe properly. The air was thick with a heavy stench. Far worse than the large piles of manure they had on the farm.

  “Do you really think this place is haunted?” asked Bert. “Or was that hissing noise inside our heads?”

  “Let’s just find the salt and get out of here,” said Cam. “We’ll have to see-saw back the way we came. Unfortunately, it’s all uphill.”

  “OK. Keep looking as we go. Primula Mold’s salt was like a crystal. It must be embedded in the stone.”

  They looked up at the rocks surrounding them.

  “The walls almost look like they’re moving in the light,” whispered Cam, taking a step closer. As she walked, something crunched beneath her feet. She pointed the torch down and shrieked as something ran over her foot.

  “The walls are moving!” cried Bert. “Hold up the torch!”

  As the light hit the wall the brown patches that speckled the grey rocks hissed and scuttled up on to the ceiling. Cam screamed again and jumped backwards.

  “Cockroaches!” warned Bert. “Hundreds of them. Look, they’re covering everything.”

  Swarms of cockroaches skittered over the walls and along the floor.

  “Get back in the cart!” screeched Cam, swiping one off Bert’s shoulder. “Move!”

  She clambered back into the truck and held the light up for Bert.

  “Wait,” he said. “I think I saw something glinting over there.”

  “Just get in!” yelled Cam.

  “Hold the lamp up again.”

  Reluctantly Cam did as she was asked. The torch revealed a smaller tunnel leading off the main chamber with a tiny sparkle of light at the end.

  “We’ve got to check that out,” said Bert.

  Cam shook her head vigorously.

  “Do you want to win this competition or not? Cockroaches can’t hurt you. They just smell and hiss and … maybe have a little nibble, but … forget that bit.”

  Cam gritted her teeth and climbed back out of the cart, trying to ignore the crunch as her feet landed on the floor.

  “They hate light,” said Bert. “Just hold it up and they’ll scuttle away.”

  They edged their way along the narrow tunnel, Bert in front and Cam close behind. She kept feeling the odd cockroach scramble up her leg or run across her back, and swiped them off wildly.

  “It’s all right,” said Bert. “Try to keep calm. Let’s sing to take our mind off them.”

  He began to sing to the tune of, “I Do Like To Be Beside the Seaside”.

  “Oh, I do like to be inside a mine-shaft! Where the cockroaches smell like rotting flesh—”

  “OK, that’s not helping,” interrupted Cam. “Look! I think I can see something glinting up ahead.”

  Just in front of them, poking out of the wall, was a small crystal of rock salt.

  “Wow! I told you,” cried Bert. “I can’t believe we’ve found some. But it doesn’t look a lot. How much do we need?”

  “I suppose that depends on how salty the Queen likes her moose cheese. Let’s just get it and go.”

  Bert pulled out the climbing hammer and began to bash the wall. The whole tunnel started to shake. Bits of earth tumbled from the ceiling.

  “Careful!” cried Cam.

  “Nearly there,” he said, smashing away at the wall.

  The salt crystal fell into his hands just as a loud rumble filled the whole mine. Cam held the torch up and looked along the tunnel towards the noise. A large cloud of dust was flying through the air towards them.

  “It’s collapsing!” she screamed. “The whole thing is coming down!”

  “Go!” cried Bert, pushing Cam forward.

  They raced back the way they came, to where the old pumping cart stood, and then jumped aboard it. Swarms of cockroaches scattered as the cloud of dust and rock exploded into the chamber.

  “See-saw like you’ve never see-sawed before!” yelled Bert.

  The twins furiously jumped up and down on either side of the pump, propelling the cart along the track. They shot into a rising tunnel just as the chamber behind them completely collapsed.

  “FASTER!” screamed Cam, looking over Bert’s shoulder.

  A rumbling smog of crashing rocks chased them up the tunnel. The twins bounced up and down as fast as they could but it was all uphill and soon they were engulfed in a veil of rock dust and earth.

  “Keep pumping,” coughed Bert. “I can see a circle of light up ahead.”

  Cam could no longer see Bert even though he was just centimetres in front of her. She was facing the collapsing mine and her lungs began to fill with dirt. Her legs turned to jelly with the lack of oxygen and she slumped to the floor of the cart. A large rock smashed into the ground beside her, quickly followed by several more. The avalanche was upon them and she closed her eyes, waiting to be completely flattened, when suddenly they emerged into daylight. She looked up to see Bert pumping the cart along with his hands. He was completely covered in dust but didn’t stop until they were clear of the tunnel.

  “Cam, can you move?” he shouted, pulling her from the cart. “The whole place is falling deeper into the ground. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Cam lurched to her feet. The earth beneath them was shaking and large cracks were shooting along the ground.

  “RUN!” yelled Bert.

  But a huge crevice appeared ahead of them, swallowing up their only route to escape.

  The Whisker Club

  The wide crack opened up in front of the twins, deafening them with the sound of imploding rocks. There was nowhere to go. They desperately looked from left to right when a loud thumping noise came from high above them. They looked up to see Mr Zola dangling from a rope attached to a large military helicopter. He swung in and caught hold of Bert, who grabbed Cam just as the ground beneath them disappeared into a black hole. The twins clung to each other, the wind twirling them around as they were slowly winched aboard.

  *

  They sat panting on the helicopter floor. Cam began coughing and couldn’t stop. A young man dressed in an RAF uniform patted her on the back and wrapped them both up in a silver blanket. He handed them mugs of steaming tea.

  “You’ll be OK,” he said to Cam. “You’ve just breathed in a bit of dust. Drink plenty and don’t worry about coughing. It’s
just your body getting rid of all that dirt.”

  “Thank you, Flight Lieutenant,” said Mr Zola, accepting a mug from him.

  The young man nodded and took a seat next to the pilot at the front of the helicopter. Mr Zola inspected the twins over his tea.

  “That was a close shave,” he said. “How was it down there?”

  “It was horrible,” spluttered Cam. “Full of cockroaches.”

  Mr Zola pulled a face and covered his moustache with both hands.

  “Thank goodness Monty wasn’t there,” he said in a loud whisper. “He has a thing about bugs, especially … hair lice.”

  “Cockroaches are about a hundred times bigger than lice,” said Bert, “and a lot smellier.”

  “Too much information,” gasped Mr Zola. “Let’s move on. Did you get the salt?”

  “The salt?” repeated Cam. “Yes, but more importantly we got away with our lives … thanks to Bert.”

  She smiled at her brother. “Good job,” she said. “Maybe you’re not such a yak brain.”

  “Don’t thank him, thank me,” said Mr Zola. “I’m the one who got you out of there. Our pilot today is Captain Mouthbrow-Smythe, an old friend from my RAF Whisker Club days. All members swear an oath to help fellow comrades in need. He and his fine nose fringe will be flying us back to Cheddar Gorge.”

  The pilot turned around and smiled at the twins, his thick black moustache twitching proudly.

  They grinned back.

  “We’re going home,” coughed Cam. “Back to Cheddar Gorge, back to Whey Farm, back to…” She stopped coughing and looked anxiously at Bert.

  “…Gramps,” he finished. “He’s going to be furious.”

  Mr Zola looked from one twin to the other. “Why will he be furious? You said your grandfather sent you on this mission. I ticked the parental consent box and you gave me a letter.”

  Cam turned bright red. She hoped Mr Zola didn’t notice under all the dust she was still caked in.

  “When I said he sent us,” she muttered, “what I meant was … he didn’t send us. I wrote that note.”

  Mr Zola’s white skin grew visibly paler beneath the black swirls of Monty. “But if your grandfather hasn’t given his consent, then you’ll be disqualified. We won’t be able to make the moose cheese and I’ll be in trouble with the Queen. You have deceived me!”

  Bert bit his lip. “Once Gramps sees that we’ve got all the ingredients,” he said, “I’m sure he’ll give his consent.”

  “Especially if the Royal Cheesemaker asks him,” added Cam. “He’s a sucker for anything royal.”

  Mr Zola seemed to calm down slightly. Bert thought he could actually see his brain ticking over.

  “I can be very persuasive when I want to be,” Mr Zola said, eventually. “OK, I will sort out this mess when we arrive in Cheddar Gorge. I assume there’s a dairy at your farm?”

  “Yes, of course,” replied Cam.

  “We’re running out of time,” said Mr Zola. “The State Banquet is the day after tomorrow. So, if we can make the moose cheese on your farm when we get back, then let it mature overnight in the caves at Cheddar Gorge, it will be ready just in time. Let’s hope your grandfather forgives you when he sees you’re going to win the competition.”

  “That’s if Primula Mold doesn’t get there first,” said Bert.

  Mr Zola checked his Cheesemaker-Locator. “This helicopter flies at two hundred and seventy-five miles per hour,” he said. “We should be passing her in precisely twenty-three minutes.”

  Cam threw off her blanket and began dancing around the helicopter, completely forgetting about her cough.

  “I can’t believe we’ve done it,” she said. “We’ve beaten everyone. We’re going to win.”

  “Lord Curd,” sighed Bert. “I think I should present the moose cheese to the Queen. After all, I got two out of the three ingredients.”

  Cam stopped dancing. “So?” she snapped. “I won the rennet, which was the hardest ingredient to get.”

  “What? Harder than getting salt from a collapsing mine?” cried Bert. “Which I had to rescue you from!”

  “The only reason you had to rescue me was because you made the whole thing come crashing down. And besides, I saved you when you nearly fell off the Trans-Siberian train.”

  Mr Zola sighed and unravelled the curling stems of his new bushy moustache. They were very long when they were straightened out and he managed to stuff both ends into his ears.

  “I saved you, no I saved you,” he mimicked. “I was hoping that working together would put a stop to all this bickering. Actually, Monty and I saved both of you from being swallowed up by the ground and sometimes we wonder why. Don’t we, Monty?”

  “I suppose that’s because we just happen to have some Siberian moose milk, Mongolian rennet and Kazakh salt!” said Cam.

  “Sorry, can’t hear you properly,” muttered Mr Zola, reaching for a flask and pouring out three bowls of hot tomato soup. “No more arguing. Eat up your soup. By the time we’ve had some supper and a decent night’s sleep, we’ll be home.”

  The twins forgot their argument and tucked in. They hadn’t eaten since that morning and they were very hungry. As the helicopter flew across Western Asia and on over Europe, Bert imagined what it would be like to be Lord Curd. First of all, he would ban Primula Mold from coming anywhere near their farm. Fungus could visit, though. Then he might build an animal sanctuary. They could have all sorts of animals – cows, goats, cats, dogs. Gramps would like that.

  Cam was thinking about winning too. She would expand the farm. Maybe bring some yaks over from Mongolia. Attila could help them. Yak cheese was delicious. It was bound to sell well. Gramps would be so proud.

  They were going to win. Nothing could go wrong now.

  Making a Moose Cheese

  (One day to go…)

  Bert rubbed his eyes. He was still dusty from the previous day. He sat listening to the buzz of the helicopter blades. Mr Zola was talking into his red phone.

  “Yes, ma’am … the two children from Cheddar Gorge … they are the new leaders… The moose cheese should be ready in plenty of time. It only needs twelve hours to mature… I will, ma’am… Thank you, ma’am…”

  Bert peered out of the window. A valley of green spread out beneath them.

  “Cam!” he cried. “Look, we’re home. We’re home!”

  Cam opened her eyes and sat up, yawning loudly. “Are we here already?” she mumbled as the flight lieutenant came into the cabin.

  “Captain Mouthbrow-Smythe would like to inform you that we will be landing in Cheddar Gorge in approximately three minutes,” he said.

  “Thank you, Flight Lieutenant,” said Mr Zola.

  Cam jumped up and looked out. “I can see the gorge!”

  Cheddar Gorge looked even more impressive from the air. The enormous cleft split the green hills into two jagged halves. The limestone cliffs were surrounded on three sides by a glorious lush quilt of rolling fields and woodland with the village of Cheddar snuggled into the west side.

  “There’s the reservoir,” cried Bert, pointing to a completely round lake glinting like a huge penny. “And there’s our farm, right on top of the gorge. I can see the cows. Hello, cows! I’ve missed you!”

  The cattle moved hurriedly away as the helicopter came in to land on a field beside Whey Farm. It began to rain. Mr Zola and the twins jumped out, covering their ears as the wind from the revolving blades whisked up the raindrops. Cam and Bert waved to Captain Mouthbrow-Smythe and the flight lieutenant, who were sitting in the cockpit. The flight lieutenant saluted and Captain Mouthbrow-Smythe twiddled his fine moustache as the great machine rose back up into the sky. Mr Zola stood to attention and twiddled back. When the helicopter was out of sight, they began to make their way over to the farmhouse.

  “I’m really looking forward
to seeing Gramps again,” said Cam. “But I’m dreading it too.”

  “I think I had better talk to him first,” said Mr Zola. “You take the ingredients over to the dairy while I explain to your grandfather what has happened and get his permission. I’ll smooth everything over. I might be some time, though, so you had better get started. Break up the rock salt. It must be ground into a fine powder. But don’t do anything else. I shall heat the milk and add the rennet when I return. It’s a delicate procedure and if you do it wrong then the whole cheese will be ruined. Do I make myself clear?”

  They both nodded. Mr Zola strode off through the rain in the direction of the farmhouse. The twins ran over to the large outbuilding that was their dairy.

  “I hope Gramps isn’t too mad,” said Cam, pulling open the huge door.

  “I know,” sighed Bert. “I can almost hear his pocket change jingling from here.”

  The dairy had been converted from an old barn and still had the high vaulted ceiling and big wooden beams. They walked through the cattle stalls. Each one had a trough full of hay at the front and a milking stool and bucket behind. Gramps still preferred to milk the cows by hand and refused to invest in the latest milking machines. A large kitchen lay through a door at the far end. A wooden table took up most of the room, with a green range cooker filling the back wall. Various cheeses hung from the beams, tied up tightly in white muslin.

  “Ah, it’s good to be home,” said Bert, sniffing the air. “Right, let’s get going.”

  He took the rock crystal out of his pocket and handed it to Cam. It was still muddy and dusty. She held it under the tap at the deep sink. As the dirt slid away, a shaft of light pierced through the window and bounced off the gleaming crystal, lighting up the whole room.

  “Wow!” she cried. “It’s beautiful! It’s like a diamond. No wonder it’s so valuable.”

  “Yeah,” sniffed Bert, squinting against the brightness. “Bash it up, then.”

  Cam sighed and dried the salt crystal.

  “It seems such a shame,” she said, placing it gently on the table. “I can see a rainbow inside it.”