Toad Triumphant

by William Horwood

  “One thing’s certain, Mole,” said the Badger, when they were finally sated with talk; “your voyage with Ratty will have to be revived. Your instincts in this matter must be trusted and acted upon!”

  “But he is quite adamant,” said the Mole dubiously “and I could not possibly try to dissuade him from a course he wants to take and I have agreed to.”

  “Nor should you try! No, this is something that needs careful handling. Leave it to me and I dare say that Rat will change his mind!”

  “Mole! Mole!”

  It was the Rat’s voice, and the Rat’s knock, some days later at Mole End.

  “Come in, Ratty, come in!” cried the Mole, opening the door, now back home and fully recovered. “You are most welcome.”

  “Now listen, Mole old chap, for I’ve something to say and there’s no time to make a thing of it.”

  “Won’t you even sit down?”

  “No time for that,” cried the Rat, going instead to the Mole’s kitchen and poking about in his larder, his gaze not quite meeting his friend’s.

  “I think perhaps,” he said busily “that I was a little hasty in withdrawing from the expedition — that excellent expedition — that you proposed in Spring. And so, if you are still willing, if, that is, you are ready and prepared to have me along, and to provide the victuals that our trip will require, then I —”

  “But, Ratty!” cried the Mole, overjoyed. “Of course I —”

  “— then I shall be glad, honoured indeed, to see to all matters navigational and nautical.”

  “Of course I want to go,” said the Mole. “But it is our expedition and I could not possibly accept the role of leader.”

  The Rat shook his head and said, “I will have it no other way!”

  “O my!” said the Mole faintly “When do you suggest we leave?”

  “Three days from now? Is that enough time to prepare?”

  “More than enough!” cried the Mole, his mind racing with the possibilities, and feeling quite overwhelmed that the Badger could so soon have persuaded the Rat to change his mind.

  “It is agreed then,” said the Rat, still a shade uncomfortable as he turned back and went outside once more, quite unwilling to stay a moment longer, so much had he to do.

  “And Mole,” he said, turning and looking the Mole in the eye at last.

  “Yes?” said the Mole.

  “Next time I — I do not quite understand something, or, well — put my selfish interests before your own wiser counsel, will you be so kind as to do something for me?”

  “What’s that?” said the Mole, not at all sure that he knew.

  “Box my ears and tell me not to be a fool! That should do the trick!”

  He grinned ruefully his apology made in his own way and his amends far outweighing in the Mole’s eyes any disappointment that he had caused.

  “Three days then,” said the Mole. “All shall be ready in my department, but really I beg of you, do not call me the leader or others might hear of it and get a very false impression!”

  “I suggest we have our first planning meeting tonight at six o’clock, if that is agreeable to you,” said the Rat, ignoring the Mole’s protestations. “Otter will be in attendance, and Nephew has already agreed to take the Minutes!”

  “O my!” said the Mole as the Rat hurried off towards the River, “O my!”

  A short while later, when some rabbits came respectfully by saying they had heard he was about to lead a great expedition and would he be needing their help with matters of catering and suchlike, the thoroughly flummoxed Mole could not contain his excitement, but cried “Yes! Yes!”, and the startled rabbits stared in amazement as that famous expedition leader performed before their eyes a jig of joy and celebration.

  · III ·

  A Last-Minute Delay

  “I did try — I mean I did explain to him — but you all know how he —” faltered the Mole miserably looking first at the Badger, then at the Otter, and finally at the Water Rat.

  “But, Mole,” cried the exasperated Water Rat, “you knew we were planning to leave today You’ve known it for days past. Why it was you yourself who persuaded Badger to support our scheme, you who waxed most enthusiastic about it, and you who —”

  “I know, Ratty. O, I know,” said the poor Mole, raising a dejected paw to try to stem the flow of the Rat’s ire; “but you know just as well as the rest of us how very persuasive, very convincing, Toad can sometimes be.”

  “Toad! Humph!” expostulated the Water Rat. “Trust Toad to get in the way of things,” groaned the Otter.

  “So it is Toad who’s behind this delay is it? I might have guessed as much!” growled the Badger, though with a certain twinkle in his eye.

  “Yes, but what exactly did he say?” interjected the Rat.

  “Are we really to be delayed for some paltry and selfish reason of Toad’s? The wind is in the south today which will considerably help our passage upstream, and the sooner we —”

  “It didn’t seem paltry when he explained it to me,” said the Mole with a trace more vigour. “And it’s certainly not a matter of Toad being entirely self-centred, because, you see, we are all to be part of it. We need only be delayed for an hour or two and —”

  “My dear Mole, you are beginning to confuse me,” said the Badger, sitting down and taking out his pipe. “Why don’t we all make ourselves comfortable and hear what it is you’ve promised we will do?”

  The day was bright and breezy fresh but summery. They were all gathered on the bank by the Rat’s cottage, and it was plain enough from the pile of gear they had begun to load into the two boats moored there, that the Mole’s expedition was about to start at last, and it was not expected to be a short trip either. One of the craft was the Water Rat’s familiar blue and white boat, the other a smaller snub-nosed dory of the kind that can be safely loaded with supplies and towed along behind.

  In addition to several hampers of varying sizes stuffed full to overflowing with provisions of every description, the bulk of which was food and drink, there was a large-looking tent, neatly stowed in a brown canvas bag, complete with pegs and poles. There were, as well, two large valises, respectively labelled in the Mole’s neat hand, Clothes: Good Weather & Evening and Clothes: Bad Weather & Mud.

  The Water Rat, it seemed, travelled more frugally than the Mole, for his valise was a third of the size of one of the Mole’s and was labelled thus: Clothes, of no value: if found, return to the Water Rat, The Cottage, River Bank, and if Owner missing contact Mr Badger of the Wild Wood.

  It was plain that their preparations were complete, and given the fair wind and good weather the Rat’s irritation at their delay was understandable. The more so, perhaps, because his beloved River, as if sensing that she had her part to play as well, flowed full and majestically her wind-ruffled surface catching in turns the white of drifting cloud and the blue of the summer sky while on the far side the willows hung heavy with leaf now, green and summer-beautiful, their fronds swaying lightly in the breeze, caught sometimes at their lowest extremities by the River’s flow, to be pulled forward a little and then released, then pulled forward once more.

  “So, Mole,” said the Badger, tamping at his briar before lighting up and taking a few calming puffs while the others, much under his sway finally settled down, “why don’t you tell us exactly what it is that Toad has said to you?”

  “Well,” began the Mole with more composure, “I do begin to see now that I may have been mistaken in allowing Toad to persuade me to agree to something without first consulting you, Badger, and you other fellows. Also I should have talked to you all a good few weeks ago when Toad’s symptoms began to show, but as you all now know I was too much pre-occupied with my own concerns at the time — but let me tell you about it just as it happened, and you can judge for yourselves! But —”

  A look of anxiety crossed his face.

  “What is it now, Mole, for goodness’ sake?” said the Rat.

  “Well you
see — I had not thought — O dear! I begin to see that the matter is more difficult, more urgent, than I had thought. You see it is not only what Toad said to me, but what I suggested to him, and I did not mean it other than lightly Dear me — I —”

  “Mole, old fellow,” said the Badger, taking another puff at his pipe and putting his hand on the hapless animal’s shoulder, “whether it be urgent or otherwise we can do nothing at all till you tell us what ‘it’ is. Therefore —”

  “But we should get to Toad Hall right away before he —” said the Mole, now seriously alarmed.

  “So we shall, I dare say” said the Badger. “But before we move from where we are, please tell us what happened yesterday and what concerns you so much now”

  The Mole told them first of that afternoon in Toad’s garden and described how at the end of it a madness had come to Toad’s eyes and how, looking back from the gate, he had observed Toad by the light of the setting sun reaching for the skies even as he attempted to stand on one leg.

  They listened, and were naturally quite as baffled as the Mole had been, and certainly as concerned.

  “You should have come to see me right away Mole,” scolded the Badger, not unkindly “for we might have saved ourselves a good deal of worry and trouble both on your own account, and Toad’s.”

  “I was overwrought with my own problems,” said the Mole apologetically “and in the days that followed I heard no ill news from Toad Hall, so really —”

  “Be that as it may” said the Badger judiciously “you had better tell us of this new development which is the cause of today’s delay and your present concerns.”

  It seemed that the previous evening the Mole had been on his way to the Rat’s to check a few last details concerning their expedition when — most unfortunately as he now realized — he met Toad.

  Or rather, as he now reluctantly began to suspect, Toad had met him.

  “Just the chap I was hoping to see!” Toad had boomed at him from the top of the Iron Bridge which the Mole had just crossed on the way to the Rat’s house. Quite where Toad had appeared from he did not know, and it was only as he told the story to his friends that the thought occurred to him that Toad might have been lying in wait.

  “I can’t easily stop now I am in rather a hurry” the Mole explained, trying to stride on. Talking to Toad could sometimes take a very long time, for Toad liked to talk, and he liked to know that others were listening.

  “A hurry? On an afternoon like this? My dear fellow, whatever you are hurrying to do must be very important indeed for you not to wish to pause for a moment or two and contemplate the joys of summer and of life just as I am doing. To think of past accomplishments and coming pleasures, to revel in the —”

  “Well, I —” began the Mole, sensing that Toad was about to launch into some speech that might prove difficult to stop once it had started.

  “But certainly” said Toad magnanimously greeting the Mole’s attempted interruption with a warm and disarming smile. “I would very much like to know what business could possibly be more important than enjoying a moment of peace and quiet before — well, shall we say before an important personage arrives here tomorrow who might, had you not been hurrying off, have immortalized you, just as this personage will undoubtedly soon immortalize me.”

  “Immortalize?” said the Mole worriedly for he instantly remembered that part of their encounter in May when Toad had mentioned immortality, and saw that the matter had not gone from his friend’s mind as he had hoped.

  Toad quite misunderstood the query in the Mole’s voice, thinking that so great a word and so grand a concept as immortality was perhaps beyond his quiet friend’s comprehension.

  “Which is to say —” continued Toad, moving to the very highest point of the bridge, and puffing himself as if to embody the splendid concept he wished to explain. “By which I mean — made permanent; indestructible; known for all time; the object of respect and glory throughout the world from now till eternity. That is the meaning of ‘immortalize’, and that is what is going to happen to me tomorrow and the day after that if need be till the process is complete.” Toad sighed deeply and added with seeming sadness, “And it might have happened to you, had you not been hurrying off on such an important errand!”

  “It was not quite an errand,” protested the Mole, beginning to fall into Toad’s trap. “You see, Ratty and I have been discussing for some time now, with Mr Badger and Otter to advise, the mounting of an —”

  “Aha! So the Water Rat is involved as well in this very important business of yours? And Mr Badger? And even Otter. While I, who thought he was a friend to you all, have not been included, nor even told.”

  “But, Toad, I certainly did not mean to imply —” began the poor Mole, feeling himself getting into water that was growing deeper and muddier by the moment.

  “Well, well, let it be so, let it be so,” cried the unstoppable Toad, with such a show of acceptance and resignation that an animal less kindly than the Mole would have seen at once that most of it was feigned. “Opportunities come to some, and opportunities pass others by But certainly I rather think that if wise Mr Badger, whose views we all respect so much, had been aware that you so peremptorily cast to one side on his behalf and without discussion with him such an opportunity as I was about to offer, he might feel a little disappointed in you.”

  “But really Toad, I —”

  “Not to mention the Water Rat, who in such matters is always so decisive and practical.”

  “Toad, I —” essayed the poor Mole against the flood —no, the growing torrent — of Toad’s determination.

  “But no matter,” declared Toad with every appearance of sincerity, and a rueful shrug of his shoulders. “I am sure you are a better judge of the strength of Badger’s friendship and respect for you than I am. Let us therefore forget that I have said anything about this rare chance upon which you have chosen to turn your back, and talk a little about this business you are hurrying off to attend to.”

  “Well, it is quite important, you see,” began the Mole, considerably discomforted by Toad’s words, “and we have planned it over a long period, and after some ups and downs it is to commence tomorrow But if you would just tell me what it is you feel I have turned my back on then perhaps we can —”

  O, how slippery was that slope upon which Toad’s “determination” had put the good Mole! How desperately the Mole felt himself struggling to keep a clear head and remember that the only thing that really mattered was escaping from Toad and getting to the Rat’s house.

  “O, this will take no time at all, Mole. Come and you will be persuaded. See and you will be conquered. Partake and you shall take that step towards immortality which, just now, I greatly feared you were rather hasty in rejecting!”

  With that, and no more to be gainsaid or resisted, Toad gripped tighter still upon the Mole’s shoulders as he guided him back over the bridge and thence through a small gate into his own grounds.

  After a short distance much of the garden and the Hall itself could be seen, and the Mole was pleased to see that the grass that had been new-sown when he was last there had greened up a good deal since he had last seen it, and some of the plantings in the borders and the climbers about the pergola had begun to shoot and grow.

  “You have certainly come a long way since that unfortunate fire two years ago,” said the Mole politely.

  “Unfortunate? Do we call Fate unfortunate? Some may but Toad does not. Do we resist the tide of change? Most try, but Toad does not! Do we cling to the old? Everybody else may but Toad does not. No, he grasps the new with both hands!”

  The Mole felt Toad’s grip upon his shoulder tighten, and was seriously beginning to wonder if Toad would get so carried away that either he would regard the Mole as part of the “old” and hurl him into the nearest ditch, or accept him as the “new” and cleave him to his bosom in even more unwelcome intimacy.

  As he eagerly led the unwilling Mole back to the terrace
where they had taken afternoon tea but weeks before the latter wondered with some foreboding how Toad might have resolved his dilemma of the empty plot, now that it was plain that he had not rid himself of his interest in immortality. The two were evidently connected.

  “Sit!” commanded Toad, in some state of excitement. The Mole obediently sat, looking up at Toad expectantly.

  “Sit and survey!” cried Toad, standing to one side so that the Mole had a full view of the garden yet-to-grow The Mole surveyed it for some time before saying (and never having been one to tell untruths or dissemble): “I can see very little; in fact I can see nothing at all.”

  “Exactly!” cried Toad ecstatically “You see nothing because there is nothing. That’s the point, the whole point, about the landscape architect’s most excellent directive ‘Client to decide’.”

  “Ah,” said the Mole.

  “Nothing yet!” said Toad.

  “Well, I really must be going,” said the Mole quickly struggling to rise from the chair into which Toad had put him, and hoping to make good his escape before the floodgates opened upon Toad’s newest scheme. As the Rat was inclined to say “The thing to do, Mole, if Toad is afflicted with one of his Ideas, is to get clear of him before the storm breaks, and let him huff and puff and dash around by himself till it wears itself out — or him out. Do not get involved if you can at all avoid it.”

  But on this occasion it was too late. Toad put a firm hand on the Mole’s shoulder and held him where he was as he pointed to that troublesome vacant plot.

  “The client has decided,” he said confidentially “to put himself there forever.”

  The Mole gazed at the place in question, and at Toad, and he pictured again Toad standing on one leg in the setting sun, and a doubt occurred to him.

  “You could not very well stand there forever without getting stiff and hungry, and very cold in winter,” he observed.