by Lou Kuenzler
Let us make a happy tune,
So the rabbits follow soon.
Little bunnies hop along,
As we play our merry song.
Instantly, Esme’s squeaky recorder sounded like a gentle flute.
“Wow!” she giggled, taking it out of her mouth for a moment. “I should audition for the school orchestra.”
She blew again and I stepped backwards, watching in amazement as Nibbles turned and began following her over the bridge. It was as if the music was pulling him along on an invisible string. He hopped right past a clump of tall reeds without stopping to nibble them. By the time Esme reached the line of trees on the other side of the bridge, all eleven rabbits were following.
Even Cozy and Dozy sleepily joined the end of the line, hopping along as if they were still in a dream.
Dashing over the bridge behind them, I saw thirty or forty other rabbits all with the special magic stars on their tails. They were hopping towards us from every direction, following Esme’s tune.
“Darting dragonflies, it’s working!” I whooped.
Still piping, Esme danced a jig, kicking her heels high in the air as more and more rabbits joined the trail.
Luckily, it was so early in the morning that there was nobody on the village green. The road leading up to school was empty.
“Quick!” I yelped as I heard the rattle of Bruiser Bailey’s van coming over the bridge behind us. “Hide!”
Esme dived behind a low stone wall. She didn’t even miss a note as the dancing rabbits followed her in a trance.
“Good morning, Mr Bailey,” I called, hiding my fluffy wand-pen behind my back as the van came to a stop. Knox was sitting beside him in the front seat.
“Hello, Bella,” Knox said as they both climbed out. He actually looked quite small beside his giant uncle. “Can you hear music?” he asked, scratching his head.
“Never mind that. We’ve got more important things to worry about!” growled Mr Bailey. “Have you seen any rabbits around here, young lady?”
“Rabbits? I don’t think so…” I tried to sound surprised, as if he’d asked me about a herd of unicorns.
Bruiser Bailey shrugged his enormous shoulders. “Just tell me or this cloth-eared idiot here if you see so much as a whisker.” He grunted at Knox, who was standing with his head on one side as if he was still trying to work out where the sound of the recorder was coming from. It took all my effort not to glance towards the wall where I knew Esme and the band of bunnies were hiding.
“Get on with it then, lad,” snapped Bruiser Bailey as Knox heaved a huge iron trap out from the back of the van and clattered to the side of the road. It had a swinging door and a horrible knot of chains and hooks, ready to catch any little creature who ventured inside.
“Oy, Cloth Ears, don’t forget the carrot! You’ll need bait,” boomed Mr Bailey. “If we don’t do this job properly Mr Seymour will put us in trap, never mind the bunny rabbits!”
“Sorry, Uncle Bruiser.” Knox blushed so red his face clashed with the juicy orange carrot he hung carefully inside the cage.
I saw Nibbles’s pink nose pop out round the side of the wall. “Yum!” he said. His whiskers were poking out now too.
“Shoo!” I mumbled under my breath, waving my arms wildly behind Knox and Bruiser Bailey’s backs. Trust Nibbles to be so greedy. He must have smelt the scent of carrot in the wind. One more sniff and he’d jump out right in front of us.
Behind the wall, the sound of Esme’s recorder grew louder and faster. She must have spotted Nibbles trying to sneak away too.
Luckily Knox had climbed back inside the van. But Mr Bailey was scratching his head in exactly the same way his nephew had done.
“Do you know what? The boy’s right. I think I can hear music… Where can it be coming from?” he said, closing his eyes and nodding in time to the tune.
I only had a split second to act. Nibbles had come out from behind the wall and was standing on his hind legs. The moment Bruiser Bailey opened his eyes he would spot him for sure … that’s if Nibbles didn’t just leap into the trap and sink his teeth into the juicy carrot right away.
Quick as the wind, I waved my wand and whispered under my breath:
Carrot in the metal box,
Turn into a smelly sock.
Pow!
There was a puff of yellow smoke and a terrible smell hit me right away. In place of the carrot was a long stringy sock – a bit like the one from Esme’s bedroom, except this one was old and grey and very smelly. Nibbles’s ears drooped with disappointment and he hopped back behind the wall.
“Poo!” Mr Bailey opened his eyes in surprise. “Never mind music. What’s that horrible pong?”
“Er … smells like cheese,” I said.
“Cheese? We’re trying to catch rabbits not mice!” Bruiser Bailey’s mouth fell open as he stared at the trap. “Look what that idiot boy has done. I told him to hang a carrot and he’s gone and put a sock in it instead.”
Bruiser thumped on the roof of the van. “Get out here, Knox.”
“I think a sock might work,” I said quickly. “My aunt used to swear by them for catching goblins.”
“Goblins?” Mr Bailey’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.
“I mean rabbits,” I said quickly. (Though it is true, if ever you do want to catch a goblin, just hang up a really cheesy sock. The little creatures can’t resist them.)
Knox staggered out of the van. A look of total surprise crossed his face as he saw the sock hanging in the trap. He opened his mouth to speak. Then, to my amazement, he nodded his head. “Rabbits do like socks,” he said. “They use them to make nests, I think.”
“Nests! I never heard such nonsense. They are rabbits not blinking birds!” said Mr Bailey, but he climbed back into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Come on, you great lummox. We haven’t got time to muck about here.”
“Don’t worry, Bella – the trap wouldn’t have worked anyway,” whispered Knox mysteriously as he scrambled back into the van and it rumbled away down the lane.
As soon as the road was clear, Esme came out from behind the wall with hordes of hopping rabbits dancing around her in a ring. “Phew! That was a close one,” she said. Even more rabbits seemed to have been drawn to the music and joined her while she was hiding.
“Find a partner and make a neat line, all of you,” I ordered the bunnies, trying to count as quickly as I could. “Ninety-four, ninety-six, ninety-eight.” It wasn’t easy keeping track as they hopped about. “One hundred! One hundred and one! We’ve done it, Esme. Every single magic bunny is here!” I cried as they jostled behind Nibbles at the front of the line.
“Now all we need to do is get them on the coach…”
Chapter Sixteen
I took a turn at playing the enchanted recorder so that Esme could get her puff back. The rabbits hopped after me across the village green.
“Keep up, Bunnykins the Second,” Esme laughed, running along beside us as her favourite bunny nearly fell over his ears again. She was right – he did look exactly like a real-life version of baby Bean’s fluffy yellow toy.
It was funny to think that was where all the trouble had started … with one stuffed rabbit and a magic hat. Now we had one hundred and one real rabbits to sneak out of Merrymeet without being spotted!
The coach was already parked beside the rubbish bins outside the school. Through the staffroom window, we could see the driver having a cup of coffee with Miss Marker.
“Quick,” said Esme. “We need to get this lot on board before everybody starts to arrive.”
“But how can we hide the rabbits?” I asked, suddenly realizing we hadn’t thought the plan through. “They can’t just sit on the seats like children.”
“There’s a storage space for suitcases underneath,” said Esme, springing a latch on the side of the coach. “The bunnies can travel secretly in there.”
“Brilliant!” I said, peering into the deep, d
ark space. But the rabbits backed away.
“I know it looks scary, but think of it like a cosy burrow,” I said. “We’re going to take you somewhere wonderful, I promise.” I remembered the pictures of the lovely Roman villa. “You’ll be safe and far away from Mr Seymour’s traps. There’ll be grass and woods and—”
“Brussels sprouts!” said Nibbles interrupting me.
“I’m not sure about that,” I said. But Nibbles was already hopping out of line towards the bins. I blew the recorder, but Nibbles’s nose was far stronger than the fading magic.
“It’s the sprout peelings he’s after!” cried Esme, pointing to a sack of green leaves beside the bins.
“Listen to me, bunnies!” I said, with a sharp blast on the recorder. “Everyone who hops into the coach can have a pile of lovely leaves all to themselves.”
That did it! Quicker than any magic spell, Nibbles hopped into the suitcase space and a hundred hungry bunnies followed. Esme and I emptied the sack of sprout peelings in there with them and gently closed the hatch.
“You’re going to love your new home,” I whispered. Then Esme and I collapsed into each other’s arms with relief.
“We did it!” she gasped. “Now all we’ll need to do is secretly open the hatch when the coach is parked at the Roman villa and the rabbits will be free.”
“I’ll put another spell on the recorder, so we can lead them somewhere safe when we arrive,” I said.
“Good idea!” agreed Esme as I held the instrument in the air. I was just about to wave my wand when Miss Marker came out of the staffroom.
“I’ll take that,” she said, crossing the playground with the coach driver. “You won’t need your recorder on the school trip.” And she whisked it out of my hands.
“But…” began Esme.
“You won’t want anything at all. Except maybe a pen to fill in a worksheet,” said Miss Marker.
Esme looked panicked.
“Don’t worry. As long as we are allowed a pen, I’ll still have my magic wand,” I whispered, tucking my pink flamingo biro safely behind my ear as the other children started to arrive.
The only school trip I had ever been on before was when the Toadstool Spell Group went to a fungus farm for the day. That time we all travelled in a flying cauldron and Nightshade Newtbreath, the class bully, sat on my head the whole way.
The coach trip was much more fun. Esme and I sat beside each other and the whole class sang songs. Esme knew all the words and taught me as we went along. The only time she fell quiet was when the coach reached the top of the hill and we passed the windmill.
I knew she was thinking about her family and what would happen when they were thrown out of their home.
“Oh look, it’s my dad’s new car park,” Piers sniggered. “Won’t it look lovely covered in concrete?” We could hear him from right at the back of the coach where he’d barged past everyone to get the best seat.
“He won’t get away with it!” I said, squeezing Esme’s hand. There were still six whole days until Mr Seymour brought his diggers in.
“I know,” she whispered bravely. “If we can save one hundred and one bunnies, we can save one windmill. Right?”
“Right!” I agreed. Although I knew neither of us had any idea how to stop Mr Seymour’s dreadful plan.
Somebody on the bus had started to sing a new song – perhaps because of all the bunnies they had seen scampering around the village yesterday.
Run, rabbit, run, rabbit –
Run! Run! Run!
Don’t let the farmer have his fun!
Fun! Fun!
Everybody joined in at the top of their voices. Esme and I smiled at each other, thinking of the bunnies safely hidden away right beneath us in the bottom of the bus.
“Our rabbits aren’t running – they’re travelling in style!” giggled Esme.
“Just as long as the Roman villa is as green and grassy as it looked in the pictures,” I said.
But we saw the rolling hills and thick woods long before we reached the entrance gates.
“This is perfect!” I whispered, leaping to my feet the minute the bus stopped. We were parked beside a thick hedgerow. “The bunnies can escape without anyone seeing them.”
Esme and I slipped round the side of the coach while everybody else was still climbing down.
Esme flicked open the suitcase hatch and I poked my head inside. I could see hundreds of bright eyes shining at me in the darkness.
“I feel sick. I ate too many sprout leaves,” groaned Nibbles.
“Hurry,” said Esme. “Mrs Marker will be lining up the class.”
“We’ll leave the hatch open,” I explained to the rabbits. “As soon as we’ve gone, hop out, follow the hedge and head for the woods. This place should make a perfect new home for you all.”
“Esme? Bella? Where are you?” We heard Miss Marker calling us.
“Coming!” Esme grabbed my arm.
“Goodbye and good luck, bunnies!” I wished I could kiss each rabbit on the nose. I was going to miss them all … especially greedy Nibbles, even though he was the most trouble. “Take care!” I whispered. We had brought them this far, but it was up to the rabbits to save themselves now.
Chapter Seventeen
The ruins of the Roman villa were really interesting. Even Miss Marker’s worksheet was fun. We had to draw a picture of something we had seen. I copied the pattern of a beautiful mosaic floor.
I was so busy drawing, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a real Roman Person tapped me on the shoulder.
“It’s only an actor dressed up in a costume,” laughed Esme, as I toppled over backwards in surprise.
The Actor Person led us all to a little Roman kitchen the museum had built. It had a real fire burning in the hearth and big clay pots. There was a pretend meal on the table and a jug of wine.
“Look, girls,” said Miss Marker excitedly. “Do you see what the Roman family have caught for their dinner?”
Esme and I stared in horror. There was a bowl of clay birds’ eggs and a rubbery fish on a plate. But hanging from the rafters was a rabbit.
“Don’t worry. It’s not real,” said Miss Marker. “It’s just a stuffed model made out of bits of old fur.”
“Oh dear! When we found out about the Romans bringing rabbits to Ancient Britain, I didn’t think about them eating them. I imagined they were pets.” Esme gulped.
“Just as long as our magic bunnies don’t see that,” I whispered as we hurried away. “I don’t want them thinking they are going to end up in a cooking pot!”
As I spoke, I thought I saw a flash of white – maybe Nibbles or Snowy – disappearing by the side of the ruins.
I dashed around the corner. But if it was one of the magic bunnies, it was already gone. “I hope they do as they’re told and head to the safety of the woods as fast as they can,” I said, looking across a patchwork of grassy fields to the thick line of trees.
“It’s time for our lunch now!” called Miss Marker and we headed off to the picnic area.
Everyone was laughing and chatting happily, when Malinda let out a furious cry. “Where’s my cookie? Somebody must have eaten it.” She scowled at poor Knox who was sitting beside her. “I bet it was you, wasn’t it?”
“No!” said Knox. But he blushed so red I would have thought he was guilty too – if I hadn’t spotted Nibbles for sure this time. He was hopping away under a picnic table with the giant cookie in his jaws.
“Naughty boy! Go to the woods with your friends,” I hissed under my breath. He gave me a huffy look and waddled away with the biscuit clamped in his teeth.
I wondered if that really was the last we would see of the rabbits.
Esme and I kept glancing around all the time another Roman Actor Person was showing us a display of weapons on the lawn. And I kept an extra-close lookout when we went to explore the Roman farm. But, at last, it seemed even Nibbles had done as he was told.
“I’ll miss the rabbits, but the
woods and fields really will make a perfect new home,” I said as Esme and I ran ahead to be first back at the coach.
The door was open and the driver was dozing on the sunny grass. We tiptoed past him. The suitcase hatch was still ajar, just as we’d left it.
“It’s empty,” said Esme, poking her head right inside.
“Not even Cozy and Dozy having a nap?” I asked, just to be sure.
“All clear!” said Esme, checking one last time before closing the latch.
Then we dashed around the side of the coach just as the rest of the class caught up.
Miss Marker took the register.
“Go right down to the back of the coach and fill up those seats first,” she said to Esme and me, who were at the front of the line. Zac and Zoe joined us.
Piers looked furious. He had so much pocket money that he’d spent ages in the gift shop. Now he was the last one back to the coach. He was forced to sit right at the front beside Miss Marker. Fay and Malinda were opposite them, whispering about Knox being a biscuit thief.
“Can I sit there?” he asked, pointing at the last spare seat on the back row.
“Of course,” I said, budging up so that Knox could stretch his long legs down the aisle. I smiled, wishing I could apologize that he was getting the blame for stealing Malinda’s cookie when I knew it was really Nibbles all along.
Thinking of the greedy little rabbit, I stared out of the window to get one last view of the rolling fields.
“Look!” I whispered, leaning over Esme’s shoulder as we both pressed our noses against the glass. We could see a smattering of little white dots made by the bunnies’ tails as they hopped away towards the woods.
“Forty … fifty … sixty.” I gave up trying to count. But they were all there, I was sure of it. “We did it!” I grinned. The bunnies were safe at last. Mr Seymour couldn’t get them here.
The bus juddered down the bumpy driveway and joined the main road. Most of the class were already singing a funny song at the tops of their voices.
“Goodbye, bunnies,” Esme and I whispered together as everyone else roared the noisy chorus.
