Archer's Mystery At Mainswell

by Edward Fisher

  ‘Some animal I expect. Probable a fox, or a rabbit I should think. Poor old chap doesn’t know he won’t be able to catch it,’ his cousin explained.

  ‘And why not?’

  ‘Because the animal, assuming it is an animal, will be long gone by now. He’s probably picked up a scent from early this morning. Wait for tomorrow morning though and it could be a different story.’

  Archer continued to track down the animal. As he sniffed his way across the field and back again, he had just one thought - food. As he sniffed and walked he kept telling himself that this was his favourite food and he would do anything to get it. Finally, after about ten minutes of fruitless tracking Archer came to the end of the trail. A small round hole disappeared into the side of the embankment. Archer knew he was too big to even try to get in the hole and so instead, just to let the occupants know he was onto them, he barked outside it. Three short barks. Then he turned around and ambled nonchalantly back to the humans as if nothing had happened. Dinner was a happy affair. Archer had his bowl of tinned meat while the three youngsters ate what they had prepared. As they ate they talked through their plans for the next few days, totally unaware that those plans would be surpassed by something completely unexpected.

  Chapter 5

  The sun sank slowly over the horizon at the end of the first day of their holidays. The combination of the journey, the excitement of setting up camp and the fresh air had made the boys tired.

  ‘I don’t know about you guys,’ yawned Mark, ‘but I’m for bed. We have a busy day tomorrow and we don’t want to spend half of it asleep.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ agreed his younger brother.

  The cool evening air rustled through the hedge as the three settled down for the night. The two boys were soon zipped up inside their tent. Archer went with the girl into her tent, and she too had soon closed the front flap for the night.

  ‘Still gets cold out here although the summer’s arrived,’ shivered James as he pulled his sleeping bag as high up as it would go.

  ‘Yes, it is a bit chilly for the time of year. Now will you quieten down and let us get some sleep. If you’re still cold in ten minutes put on an extra jumper or something. Goodnight.’

  ‘Night.’

  The torches were clicked off and the tent bathed in the cool, eerie summer light provided by the half-crescent moon and its accompanying galaxy of stars. In a few minutes the boys were fast asleep. In the other tent Rebecca was having more of a problem.

  ‘Archer, for the sixth time, lie still!’ she whispered furiously to the dog. Archer had found it difficult to find a comfortable spot. He had tried lying beside the girl, but the ground was hard, and somewhat cold to the touch. Being Archer, he had moved gracelessly onto the bottom of the girl’s sleeping bag, only to find the zipper round the bottom dug into his fur. Consequently he had moved up the sleeping bag and lain across the girl’s feet until she had moved in an attempt to shift the unasked-for weight from her legs. Archer had moved a few times, and each time the girl shoved or pushed him away. This time as she whispered at him and tried to drag her arm from under his stomach: he yawned and fell asleep. A few moments later he began to snore, gently at first, like a dog that is breathing heavily. Then, as he began to dream of chasing rabbits through the field, he began to snore more and more loudly. At first the girl tried to ignore the sound, but after a few minutes of it keeping her awake, she had had enough. She prodded the dog in his abdomen, but to no avail. Archer was asleep and very little would stir him. As a sort of last-ditch compromise, the girl struggled from her position half under the canine’s body, pulled the sleeping bag as far out as she could manage and then curled up in a corner of the tent. To the sound of the dog’s heavy breathing she slowly fell unconscious and entered into her own world of dreams.

  The night passed by slowly until the early hours of the morning. It was, in fact, half past two when Archer heard a noise. It was a distant noise, but it was coming closer. It was a sound he recognised, the sound of a car. The sound started as part of a dream but rapidly brought him to consciousness. He lay still, waiting for it to get nearer. Although relatively quiet to a human, the dog’s sensitive hearing made the sound seem much louder. Suddenly it disappeared, to be replaced a few minutes later by a much deeper and louder noise. Archer did not recognise this sound and it bothered him. He stirred and began a low, guttural whine. The sound continued to get closer, and Archer went over to the girl and tried to rouse her. A minute later she stirred, just in time to hear the sound stop, seemingly just behind the field.

  ‘It’s only a lorry,’ she whispered to the dog. ‘Nothing to worry about.’ She lay back and was about to go back to sleep, vowing that the boys could have the dog the next night, when she thought she heard voices, low, quiet voices that barely penetrated the night air.

  She carefully reached out to find her torch and then, with the light shielded by her sleeping bag, proceeded to open the flap of the tent. She looked out. The voices were still there, and they were not coming from the boys’ tent either. It was, to the country girl, somewhat unusual to hear voices at half past two in the morning. She knew that lorries frequently went through the village late at night. There had been a long-standing complaint from the villagers about the late-night heavy vehicular activity. Perhaps, she reasoned, the lorry was lost and its occupants were trying to find out where they were. As if in response to her reasoning, the voices stopped quite suddenly. A moment later she clearly heard two doors shut, followed by the sound of the lorry starting up. She listened as it drove away, back towards the village. Unseen to her because of the embankment, the driver of the car had waited some minutes before driving off. She had just zipped up her tent and settled back when she heard the car engine start. She listened intently to hear in which direction the car drove off and decided it had headed away from the village.

  ‘Curious,’ she whispered to Archer, who had resettled into his sleeping position. ‘Two vehicles on a country road stop and the occupants get out and talk. Most odd,’ she surmised. Instead of going back to sleep, the girl spent much of the next hour trying to work out what the clandestine meeting on the road might have meant. Eventually fatigue overtook her thoughts, and once again she fell asleep.

  Dawn came with the sound of birds whistling and singing in the trees. The unfamiliar sounds soon woke the boys from their slumber, and Archer too was soon active. It was inevitable that in the confines of the tent he would soon cause the other occupant to awaken. Grumpily she opened the front of the tent and let the dog out.

  Fresh rabbit, he thought as he stepped out of the tent. The ground was slightly damp but within a few seconds he caught a whiff of the scent he was searching for. He began to follow it, hoping for a better result than the previous evening had afforded. Then, away down the field, his eye caught a small movement among the grass.

  Breakfast, here we come, he thought. Then, to confirm his detection, there was a second movement. The smell from the movement was right but Archer’s eyes did not recognise what he saw as being breakfast, lunch or any other meal for that matter. He froze momentarily, puzzling out this additional information in his doggy brain. Finally he gave credence to his olfactory system and skulked down in the grass. Slowly he edged forward, his nose focused on the direction of the scent, his eyes watching for the smallest movement. He had moved perhaps three steps when the ball of fur that he was stalking decided to move again; not a hurried move, just a hop really, and evidently not the movement of a creature aware that it was about to become a meal. Archer quickened his pace. Four more paces had been taken before the furry ball sensed danger. It turned and stood up, its nose twitching nervously. Then, just as Archer decided to pounce on his prey, the rabbit turned and scurried off down the field. Archer, unaware that pursuit was a waste of effort followed, barking angrily at his intended quarry. The rabbit darted from left to right, weaving a trail as it made its way back to the burrow. Suddenly, in the middle of the field the rabbit dived and disappeared
from view. Less than a second later Archer pounced on the entrance to the burrow. Unable to gain access, he firstly growled with discontent at the escaped prey and then sat down to wait for its re-emergence.

  The boys, still in their tent, heard the dog barking. They continued to dress and then sort out the tent, refolding sleeping bags and making their accommodation as tidy as possible.

  ‘Sounds like Archer’s up. Wonder what he’s doing?’

  ‘Dunno. Open the flap and have a look.’

  Mark did as was suggested and was in time to see Archer leaping over the field twisting from right to left. As he watched, the dog suddenly stopped and seemed to rest in one spot.

  ‘He’s just running round the field. Maybe he did really see a rabbit. He’s certainly excited about something.’

  ‘Rabbit, hey. That’d be a novelty, Archer quick enough to catch his own breakfast.’

  ‘Do you really think he’d eat one, supposing of course he could catch one?’

  ‘Don’t know. He’d probably scare the poor thing to death and just leave it lying around.’

  ‘Yuck. Come on, let’s see if Bec’s up, and get some breakfast.’

  The boys, wearing sweaters because the morning air was still chilly, their feet protected from the damp ground by Wellington boots, left their tent and went to check up on their cousin.’

  ‘Morning,’ said Mark as they approached her tent. ‘Anyone in?’

  ‘Morning to you too,’ came the sleepy reply.

  ‘Sleep well?’ asked James casually. He had occasionally allowed Archer to sleep in his bedroom and could predict the answer.

  ‘No. A certain four-legged monster kept me awake half the night. He’s a real fidget. You boys can have him tonight. I’d rather sleep on my own.’

  ‘That might not be such a good idea Bec. You’d be safer with Archer for company,’ suggested James quite urgently.

  ‘Safer with Archer! All that dog cares about is its own damn comfort. It isn’t satisfied till it has at least half the sleeping area, and have you heard it snore?’

  ‘Snore?’ repeated the older boy, feigning ignorance.

  ‘Yes, like some weird monster. God only knows what that dog dreams about at night, but whatever it is, Archer snores. So, you can have the pleasure of his company tonight.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘One other thing though, and it might be nothing at all but -’ Rebecca paused for breath, and also to attract her cousins’ interest.

  ‘Go on Bec. What is it?’ pleaded Mark.

  ‘Well, about half two this morning, the canine brute woke me up. There were voices over the back of the embankment. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a few minutes one of them got into a lorry and drove off. Then a few minutes after that a car drove off in the opposite direction.’

  ‘Could be nothing, as you say, but then again it’s odd for that to happen in a country road like this so late at night. It’s almost as if they had a prearranged meeting here.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed James. ‘Which means, they might come back again. Perhaps we should stay up and see what happens tonight.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said Mark. ‘After all, Bec said she couldn’t hear what they were saying, so there doesn’t seem to be much point.’

  ‘Sure she couldn’t hear from here, but I’ll bet she could’ve heard from the top of the embankment,’ suggested the younger boy.

  ‘I might have done, but then I might have been seen too.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ said James, growing in enthusiasm. ‘It’ll be very dark and they’re clearly not expecting anyone to be listening to them, otherwise they’d pick somewhere else to meet. They obviously think they’re very safe here.’

  ‘True, I suppose,’ said Mark somewhat hesitantly. He also sensed that his brother, being the more impetuous of the two, was looking for an adventure that in all probability wouldn’t happen. ‘We also don’t know if they will ever come back, so we might be wasting our time.’

  ‘True, but if we don't give it a go, we’ll never find out.’

  ‘Yes, go on, Mark,’ said the girl, ‘and we do have Archer. He’ll protect us if anything nasty happens.’

  ‘He’s more likely to lick them to death,’ said Mark unkindly. He hadn’t heard the dog padding up behind him.

  ‘Woof,’ said Archer about four inches from Mark’s ear. It was a disgruntled woof, which sort of said, ‘I’ve got the hump over losing that rabbit, so don’t assume I’ll lick anyone right now.’

  ‘Sorry, Archer, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. All right then, here’s what we’ll do,’ and Mark continued to outline his plan for the coming evening.

  Chapter 6

  It was some time later, when the breakfast things had been cleared away that the three youngsters walked down the field, through the campsite in the lower field and on towards the farm house. As they passed one of the outbuildings a voice stopped them in their tracks.

  ‘Morning, Rebecca,’ the voice resounded.

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked the older boy in a quiet voice.

  ‘It’s Tom, the farm hand,’ the girl whispered back, and then continued in a louder voice, ‘Morning, Tom. How are you today? Feeling better?’

  ‘Yes, thanks, it was just a twenty-four hour bug. I’m feeling much better now.’

  ‘Good. Have you seen father this morning?’

  ‘Yes, I think he’s in the machine shed.’

  ‘Right-oh. These are my cousins, Mark and James. They’re staying here for a couple of weeks.’

  At this news, the farm hand appeared at the door of the shed. In his hand he held a long, curved, bladed object. Tom was in his mid-twenties, powerfully built with sand-yellow hair. His muscular structure indicated he was a useful person to have around, someone capable of lifting quite large weights.

  ‘Hi there, I’m Tom,’ the farm hand introduced himself.

  ‘Hi. I’m Mark, and this is James,’ the introductions continued.

  ‘You’re not from around here, are you?’

  ‘No. We’re from Hampshire. A town called Nailsbury.’

  ‘Never heard of it.’

  ‘Well, it’s not that big, more of an outgrown village really. You worked here long?’

  ‘It’s been about three years, now. This’ll be the third harvest. Nice to see you - probably have more time to talk another day, but I’ve got to sort out the blades on the thresher today, some of them are really damaged and need sharpening.’

  ‘Oh, so that’s off the thresher,’ said Mark politely, looking at the blade the farm hand was holding.

  ‘That’s right. There are thirty-six of them, all fitted round a central drum. I’ve got to get all of them sharpened up today, and then tomorrow we’re going to cut the grass in the south field.’

  ‘Right, well we won’t keep you,’ intervened the girl, realising that the farm hand was anxious not to maintain conversation. ‘Machine shed, you said?’

  ‘That’s right, Miss,’ with which Tom turned round and disappeared back into the outbuilding.

  ‘Funny sort of person,’ muttered James after Tom had disappeared. A grinding sound came from the building next to which they were still standing.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed his cousin, ‘he does like to keep himself to himself. You know, I hardly know anything about him, but according to Dad he’s a really good worker, hardly ever has a day off sick. Come the harvest and ploughing times he’s a real asset to have round the place. The rest of the year he does practically all the maintenance work.’

  ‘Sounds a useful person to have about.’

  ‘Oh, he is.’

  ‘Right. I guess it’s time to say hi to Uncle Jack then.’

  The trio walked on past a few more sheds till they came to what was a much larger building than the others.

  ‘Father, you here?’ the girl called out as she opened one of the two big doors at the front of the building.

  ‘Morning dear, I’m in here.’

>   ‘Morning. We have visitors.’

  A head appeared from under a large piece of machinery.

  ‘Mark, James, how wonderful to see you! Come here - let me look at you.’

  The boys advanced into the shed.

  ‘Uncle, nice to see you too.’ The man and boys greeted each other like long-lost friends. ‘Sorry we didn’t get to see you yesterday, but Bec said you’d gone out somewhere and wouldn’t be back till late.’

  ‘Yes, it was very late, as it happens. The delivery van broke down and I had to wait till they’d fixed it. It needed a new starter motor, so that made the day very long. Well, my boys, it’s good to see you. You’ve grown quite a bit these past two years. So tell me, what are your plans?’

  ‘Well,’ started the younger boy, ‘we’re going to stay around the farm today, play some games, do some walking around. We may go into the village this afternoon. Then tomorrow we thought about going to the ActionDome centre. Bec can come too if she wants. After that we haven’t got any fixed ideas yet.’

  ‘Tomorrow should be all right, but Rebecca I will need you to do a few bits round the farm the day after because I’ve got to go back to sort out what I should’ve sorted out yesterday, and we have to have the camp shop open every day for at least a couple of hours.’

  ‘No problem, Dad. The boys can help me with it if they want to. Keep them occupied for a couple of hours.’

  ‘Yeah, sounds like a great idea,’ Mark concurred. ‘Well, Uncle, we’d better let you get on with your work, and we’ll see you around.’

  ‘Okay, lads, take care now, and don’t go and do anything daft.’

  The youngsters left the shed and walked back up the road they’d come down earlier. They passed the outbuilding where Tom was working. The door was partly opened and they could hear the sound of the grinding machine from within.