by Alex Milway
ALSO AVAILABLE
Hotel Flamingo
Holiday Heatwave
Carnival Caper
Fabulous Feast
For Gran, tough as old boots
and absolutely fearless
Contents
1. Grandma Nan
2. The Cabin
3. New Arrivals
4. Florence
5. Down Gold River
6. The Travelling Sales Bear
7. The Angry Mountain Hare
8. This . . . Is . . . War!
9. Under the Stars
10. Beaver Battles
11. The Splatter Matter
12. A Helping Hand
13. Home Again
14. The Story
Can you find?
Cabins
A Note from Alex
1
Grandma Nan
After an hour of travelling across miles of wilderness, the tiny plane carrying Rosa Wild dipped down and landed effortlessly on Jewel Lake. It chugged slowly across the water, its twin floats sending ripples across the glassy surface.
‘Here we are then,’ said Tom, the pilot. ‘Quite something, huh? Told you this place was unlike anywhere on earth.’
Rosa sat up in the back seat and gazed in wonder – and no small amount of panic – at the boulder-strewn slopes and spire-like trees that rose up around her. The emptiness of Big Sky Mountain and the never-ending horizon was terrifying to someone who’d only ever known the city.
‘It’s so . . . big!’ said Rosa.
Tom’s moustache twitched as he cut power to the engines and sailed the plane towards the gravelly beach.
‘It definitely is that,’ said Tom.
‘And where are all the houses and shops?’ asked Rosa.
Tom laughed. ‘About two hundred miles away,’ he said. He pointed through the window. ‘There’s your grandma now. She always hears me coming in to land.’
Rosa pulled her heavy cloth bag tight to her chest. She had never met Grandma Nan before, and seeing the wild-haired old lady striding out of the trees towards them, Rosa feared the worst. She didn’t look like the sort who appreciated visitors.
‘Will you come back?’ asked Rosa hopefully.
‘Next delivery’s in a few months,’ said Tom.
‘That long?’ said Rosa.
‘Uh-huh,’ he replied, getting out of the pilot’s seat. He pushed open the door and hung his legs out as the plane gradually stopped moving. A burst of fresh air entered the cockpit. ‘Nan looks after herself, but she always likes her winter supplies brought in early before the lake freezes over.’
‘It freezes over?’ said Rosa.
‘Oh, sure,’ said Tom, dropping out on to one of the long floats that took the place of landing wheels. ‘Come on.’
Rosa clambered over boxes filled with tins of fruit and powdered milk, and all the sorts of dried food that might last a year or two in a cupboard. She stepped down, and Tom helped her cross the float on to dry land.
Grandma Nan stood watching with a puzzled air.
‘Who’s this then?’ she asked. She wiped her thick glasses, hoping cleaner lenses might change her view. ‘I didn’t ask you to bring me a girl, Tom.’
‘It’s Rosa,’ said Rosa. ‘Your granddaughter.’
Nan smeared down her bristly shock of hair – it promptly leapt back into place – and walked closer.
‘Granddaughter, eh?’ said Nan. ‘Rosa?’
‘I sent you a letter about coming to stay,’ said Rosa.
‘She did,’ said Tom. ‘I delivered it myself.’
Nan scrunched up her nose in thought.
‘I don’t remember reading a letter,’ she said. ‘But I do have a granddaughter –’
‘While you discuss this,’ said Tom with a smile, ‘I best get all your supplies out and move on. There’s a storm rolling in from the north.’
‘I heard the crows warning of it this morning,’ said Grandma Nan.
‘Course you did, Nan,’ said Tom.
Nan peered down at Rosa. ‘Are you sure you’re my granddaughter?’ she said, her eyes peeking over the top of her glasses. ‘She’s just a baby.’
Rosa caught sight of a naughty twinkle in her eyes. Was she playing a game?
‘We have the same name,’ said Rosa. ‘You’re a Wild. I’m a Wild.’
‘You don’t look very wild.’
Grandma Nan squeezed Rosa’s arm in search of muscles. Her grip was as strong as a vice.
‘And you don’t feel too wild either,’ said Nan. ‘You’re all skin and bone.’
Rosa pulled her arm free. ‘Look. I am a Wild,’ said Rosa, ‘and –’
‘And what?’ said Nan.
Rosa was edging close to tears. ‘And I don’t have anywhere else to go,’ she said.
Grandma Nan huffed. ‘It’s true. A girl’s got to be in a real pickle to end up out here,’ said Nan.
Tom placed the last box of supplies on the gravel.
‘Right, that’s it then!’ he said. ‘You’ll be OK, Rosa?’
Rosa wasn’t sure. ‘What happens if we need help?’ she asked.
‘We won’t need help,’ said Nan with a shake of the head. ‘I’ve lived out here for twenty-three years so far, and look at me! Still alive.’
‘Told you,’ said Tom. ‘Nan looks after herself better than anyone. She’ll see you right.’
And with a smile and a salute Tom was back in the plane.The engine kicked into life and within seconds he was motoring along the water, building up speed for take-off.
The plane rose into the air and disappeared over the mountain.
The world was silent once more.
‘Well, this is something,’ said Nan, thrusting her hands on to her hips.
Rosa slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘I am your granddaughter,’ said Rosa.
‘I know you are,’ said Nan. ‘You have my eyebrows.’
She picked up a crate of tins and marched off into the trees. ‘This way! And bring a box!’
Rosa grabbed a box of dried beans and hurried on. Birds were chattering in the trees, butterflies were whispering, and even the midges buzzing about her head seemed to have things to say. If Rosa hadn’t known better, she’d have thought they were all discussing her arrival. Little did she know there was a big surprise in store for her.
2
The Cabin
Grandma Nan’s log cabin was like something from an old fairy tale, nestled at the edge of the lake among a glade of towering pine trees. Built solely of wood, with a tatty pitched roof covered in a layer of moss and earth, the cabin was full of imperfections. Knotholes littered the walls, cracks between planks and beams were filled with glue and thread, and the tilting stone chimney had so many weeds growing out of the mortar that it could have been mistaken for having hair.
‘Home sweet home,’ said Grandma Nan.
Rosa looked on in horror. ‘I thought you lived in a house?’ she said. ‘This place looks like it could fall apart at any minute!’
Nan kicked the wall beside the door. There was a loud thud, but nothing broke, fell off or budged an inch.
‘It would take a battering ram to move it, my girl,’ said Nan. ‘I should know. I did build it, after all.’
Rosa gulped. ‘Don’t builders usually build homes?’
‘You try finding a builder out here,’ said Nan, pulling open the door. ‘Come on in. And don’t mind Albert; he won’t bite.’
‘Wait!’ said Rosa. ‘I thought you lived alone?’
‘I do,’ said Nan. ‘More or less.’
Rosa stepped inside and inhaled the rich, tarry smell of seasoned wood. Despite her first impressions, it was homely and warm, and though it was really just one giant room, it felt like so much mo
re.
There was a tidy bed covered in a brightly coloured crocheted blanket. Next to it was a stone fireplace, with a nest of logs prepared ready for lighting. There was a potbelly iron stove, bearing a blackened pan and kettle, and every wooden wall was decorated with handmade rugs and cupboards.
And then Rosa froze. A moose head – with huge antlers – was sticking through an open window at the back of the cabin. It turned to look at her with happy yet tired eyes.
‘Mornin’,’ said the moose in a low grumbly voice. ‘I never seen a hooman calf before.’
Rosa looked wide-eyed at Grandma Nan who was zipping back and forth across the small room, packing tins away in storage and on to shelves.
‘Meet Albert,’ said Nan.
‘Is he dangerous?’ asked Rosa.
‘Only to himself,’ said Nan. ‘Albert gets into trouble easier than finding pebbles on the beach.’
‘Hey!’ huffed Albert. ‘I got ears.’
Grandma Nan had a deep throaty laugh and she chuckled loudly. Rosa crept forward, rightly unsure of the giant animal. She’d never been as close to any creature so big before.
‘Hello . . . sir?’ said Rosa nervously.
Albert’s giant head stretched forward through the window and sniffed Rosa’s forehead. ‘Hooman calf smells of pink flowers,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ said Rosa.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll soon smell of rotten potatoes like the rest of us,’ said Nan, passing Rosa an apple. ‘Here, I bet he’s hungry.’
‘Apple!’ pleaded Albert, and before Rosa had a chance to offer it, the moose’s slobbery teeth had clamped on to the fruit.
He tried to retreat back out of the window to eat, but his antlers were too wide. They bumped against the wooden frame on each side.
‘Head stuck,’ growled Albert.
Nan rolled her eyes. ‘Every year when his antlers grow back it’s like this . . .’ She hurried over and took hold of Albert’s left antler. ‘I wish I knew how you got them in so easily.’
With a bit of a twist Nan found a better angle for Albert’s head.
‘Try it now,’ she said, and he finally pulled free.
‘Stupid head,’ said Albert, and he wandered off to the beach to eat.
‘He spends every summer here,’ said Nan. ‘I never know where he goes after, but he always returns to the mountain each and every year.’
Rosa wondered what it must be like to be the only human for a hundred miles around.
‘Don’t you get lonely out here?’ asked Rosa.
‘Lonely is the last thing I am,’ said Nan. ‘I came here to get away from the world, but can barely go a minute without seeing someone.’
‘Where?’ said Rosa. She peered out through the window at the surrounding wilderness. There were no other houses to be seen.
‘Everywhere,’ said Nan. ‘Albert’s one.’
‘But he’s a moose?’ said Rosa.
‘There’s not much difference between them and us,’ said Nan, returning to her unpacking and tidying.
Nan was overjoyed by the new deliveries, and read every label on every tin as though it were an exciting new book.
‘Can I help?’ asked Rosa.
‘You could unpack your things,’ said Nan. ‘Key to living in here is to keep everything tidy. You are tidy, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ squeaked Rosa awkwardly and not fully truthfully. ‘Where should I put them?’
Nan pointed to a cupboard. ‘And where will I be sleeping?’ said Rosa.
‘Well, I’ve only got one bed,’ said Nan, ‘so I guess we’ll be sharing.’ ‘Together?’ said Rosa.
Nan shrugged. ‘You don’t snore do you? I hate snorers.’
‘No, of course I don’t,’ said Rosa, though she wondered how anyone could know. ‘But it’s such a tiny bed.’
‘There’s always the floor,’ said Nan matter-of-factly.
Rosa looked at the hard, cold floorboards.
‘Sharing it is,’ she said.
3
New Arrivals
Just as Tom had warned, the storm came good and strong. Rosa and Nan enjoyed watching the violent weather from the comfort of the cabin. As the trees roared about them, with the scouring growl of pouring rain the surface of the lake was pocked with thousands of craters. But there was not one leak or drip of water falling from the ceiling, much to Rosa’s surprise.
‘Is Albert all right out there?’ asked Rosa.
‘That moose could survive a hurricane,’ said Nan. ‘He’ll be hiding somewhere, I’m sure. But don’t worry, storms pass quickly out here.’
Slowly but surely the clouds broke apart, and sunlight burst through.
‘I love a storm,’ said Nan, preparing to head outside. ‘It shakes the world up. Brings out all sorts of creatures.’
With her boots pulled high Nan strode out into the world.
‘What are you waiting for?’ she said, heading off down to the lake.
Rosa readied herself and walked out under the eaves of the roof. A thin cord of water dripped from its edge, and Rosa played with it for a moment, passing her hands through each drip trying to not get wet. Suddenly she heard a hoot of a yawn from above her head.
Rosa looked up, just in time, to see a tiny owl roll out of a crevice in the cabin wall. It tumbled out, still half asleep, and Rosa caught it safely in her hands.
The owl’s eyes blinked and opened wide.
‘Hello, little bird,’ said Rosa.
‘SAVE ME!’ screeched the owl, covering its face with its small wings. ‘SAVE ME!’
‘From what?!’ asked Rosa calmly. She could feel its heart beating fast through her fingers.
The owl peeked out through a gap in its feathers. It turned its head nearly full circle, before looking up at Rosa.
‘Oh . . . is it over?’ it said tentatively, before ruffling its feathers and stretching out its legs. ‘Nothing to see here. This owl is fine! Move along please!’
‘Were you having a nightmare?’ said Rosa.
The owl blinked with amazing slowness.
‘Might have been,’ said the owl sniffily. ‘Might not have been.’
‘Well, I’m just pleased I caught you,’ said Rosa. ‘It was a long drop for a little thing like you.’
‘Who are you calling little?’ said the owl.
Rosa lifted the owl to eye height so she could see it more closely. The owl really was tiny – hardly bigger than Rosa’s hand.
‘You are very cute,’ said Rosa.
‘That’s the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me,’ said the owl. ‘Now put me back, please.’
The owl frowned and crossed its wings in an attempt to look strong and fearsome, but Rosa thought it simply made the bird look even cuter. She smiled and placed the bird back in its crevice.
‘There you go,’ said Rosa.
The owl skipped from her hand to hide once again in the cabin wall.
‘You can go away now,’ it said. ‘Go on. Shoo!’
Rosa laughed and walked off towards Grandma Nan.
‘I’ve just met your owl!’ said Rosa.
‘Oh no. That’s not my owl,’ said Nan. ‘And you best not let him hear you say that. Little Pig is very much his own owl.’
‘He’s called Little Pig?’ said Rosa.
‘That’s right,’ said Nan. ‘He’s a pygmy owl, and a particularly small one. Little Pig suits him very well.’
Nan turned her head to the north and cupped her ears. ‘Hang about – you hear that noise?’ she said.
Rosa listened intently. With the storm off to bother another mountain, the birds were chattering again, but beyond that noise was a grumbling growl, growing closer by the second.
‘Thunder again?’ asked Rosa.
Grandma Nan dug her hands into her deep trouser pockets – the sort of pockets that you can bury a full sandwich in – and pulled out a collapsing telescope. She stretched it open and aimed it at the sky.
The silhouette of a large plane
eventually appeared from beyond the mountain peak. It coursed across the sky, leaving spiralling vapour trails in its wake.
‘Now who on earth could that be?’ said Nan. ‘It’s not Tom.’
A speck of light glinted off the aircraft and two parachutes bloomed from its hold and took flight.
‘Well, blow my trumpet loud and long,’ said Nan. ‘Here –’
She thrust the telescope into Rosa’s hand.
‘Look at that!’ said Nan.
Rosa held the telescope to her eye and spent a frantic moment searching for the parachutes through the narrow lens. She gasped when she found them, and saw that they were attached to two brown furry creatures. They drifted down over a distant tree-covered hill.
‘What are they?’ asked Rosa.
‘Too far away for me to be sure,’ said Grandma Nan, ‘though they look like trouble. We’ll need to investigate.’
‘But they must have landed miles away!’ said Rosa.
‘Three, maybe four,’ said Nan. ‘A good day’s hike.’
‘That’s a long way,’ said Rosa.
‘It is,’ said Nan.
‘But you’re –’
‘Go on, say it,’ said Nan.
Rosa suddenly felt awful. ‘I . . . Well . . . well, you are a bit old.’
‘And I hope your legs are stronger than your mind,’ said Nan. ‘So pull yourself together, girl. I’ve lived out here a long time now, and I know what I’m capable of.’
‘Sorry,’ said Rosa. ‘It’s just that you’re not really like other grandmas. They just sit and watch TV. Or snooze. Or bake cakes. Or –’
Grandma Nan lifted her glasses to rub her eyes.
‘I like to think that’s no bad thing, is it?’ she said warmly.
‘I suppose not,’ said Rosa.
Nan strode off towards the cabin.
‘RIGHT! Come on! We best pack some supplies. We can’t carry too much, but Florence can take the worst of it.’
‘Who’s Florence?’ asked Rosa.
‘You’ll see,’ said Nan, taking a deep breath of mountain air. ‘And I best warn you about the early start.’
