Big Honey Dog Mysteries HOLIDAY COLLECTION

by H. Y. Hanna

  “How do you know all this, Suka?” asked Honey in awe.

  The Husky sat back on her haunches and puffed her chest out proudly. “I always help my Boy when he’s doing his homework. That’s how I learn lots of stuff.”

  Ruffster gave a sceptical sniff. “But I still don’t understand—what’s this got to do with takin’ the bat back home—”

  “I think I get it,” said Honey suddenly. “You find the line for 51.6º N and the line for 1.8º W...”

  “... and yer look for where the two lines meet,” growled Tyson. “That’s the place the bat is trying to tell ya about.”

  “Well, c’mon then! Let’s find it on the map!” Ruffster jumped up eagerly.

  Suka moved over to the smaller map which showed the local countryside, and found the line for 51.6º N. She used her nose to trace that latitude line running across. Meanwhile Ruffster stood up on his hind feet next to her and used his nose to find the longitude line, running up and down, which corresponded to 1.8º W. The two dogs shuffled closer and closer until their noses touched.

  “There. That’s the place.”

  Honey peered at the spot on the map. It was deep in the area covered by forest. Her heart sank. How were they ever going to find that spot? The others must have had the same thought because all their ears drooped.

  “Mate, how’re we goin’ to find that spot in the forest? It’s not as if there’ll be those latitude and longitude lines on the ground for us to follow,” said Ruffster.

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Suka, peering closer at the map. “See how there are some things near that spot? Look—there’s a stream with a bridge on the right... and here’s what looks like a small pond on the left... and just above the spot, there’s an empty patch where there are no trees growing... If we can find those three things in the forest, then we’ll know that the spot is somewhere in the middle, between them.”

  “But that’s still a lot o’ space,” protested Ruffster. “How do we know what we’re lookin’ for, even if we manage to get there?”

  “The bat,” said Honey. “I’m sure the little bat will show us once we get there. We just need to get there first.”

  “Now’s a good time,” said Suka. “The humans are all sitting down to eat. I saw them when I went back out to check. They’ll be busy stuffing their faces for a while.”

  Honey stood up. “Then we’ll leave now.”

  FIVE

  THE BEST WAY TO GET out, they decided, was through the back door in the kitchen. This led straight out onto the rear paddocks, which bordered the edge of the forest. From there, if they stayed in a straight line, then according to the map, they should come to the small pond, near the special spot in the forest.

  The only problem now was slipping unnoticed through the kitchen. Well, the problem was worst for Honey. Unlike smaller dogs, Great Danes just can’t sneak past anywhere unnoticed.

  “You’ll have to wait until Cook goes out of the kitchen for a moment and make a run for it,” said Suka.

  Honey nodded, but couldn’t really make a reply because she was carrying the little bat in her mouth. Actually, it was clinging with its tiny feet and hanging upside down from her jowls. It was a very weird feeling, having a bat swinging under your chin, and Honey wasn’t sure she liked it.

  She was trying not to drool as well, but every so often, some slobber would ooze out of her lips and plop onto the little bat’s head, which would make it start spluttering and squeaking indignantly. Thank Dog the humans didn’t have ears good enough to hear bat sounds, thought Honey. Otherwise, all this noise would have brought people running!

  Ahead of her, Suka paused and signalled with her tail for everybody to stop. They had crept into the huge kitchen from the side door and were now crouched in the pantry. In front of them, they could see Cook hovering over one of the counters and steam billowing from a pot bubbling next to her on the stove. Her back was to them and they could see that she was bent over in concentration, busily arranging something on a plate.

  Tyson and Biscuit crept forwards and began slinking past her—slowly, slowly... Honey held her breath as they moved carefully behind and past Cook, and arrived at the back door. Tyson reached up and nudged the latch. The door swung open slightly. The Jack Russell slipped out, followed by Biscuit.

  Honey breathed out. Two down. Three to go. Ruffster began creeping forwards. Just as he passed Cook’s back, she straightened up.

  “Ticks!” muttered Ruffster, looking around wildly for somewhere to hide.

  But after a second, Cook bent over the counter again. Whew. Ruffster began creeping forwards again and quickly reached the back door too. There was a slight creak and then the door shut behind him.

  “My turn,” said Suka. “And you just wait until Cook leaves the kitchen. I’m sure she’ll go back to the buffet table soon. As soon as she’s gone, make a dash for the back door, OK?”

  “Mmmff,” mumbled Honey as the little bat dangled from her lips.

  Suka turned and started following in Ruffster’s pawsteps. She was lucky—Cook didn’t look up once—and the Husky reached the back door with no problems. Giving Honey a last encouraging wag of the tail, she pushed her way through the door and disappeared.

  Honey swallowed. Suddenly, she felt very alone. It’ll be fine, she told herself. She eyed the distance to the back door—it didn’t look that far. She should make it with no problems. Even as she had the thought, she saw Cook straighten up, holding a plate in her hands. It was a platter of miniature pumpkin tarts, beautifully arranged. Cook held it up to the light and smiled in satisfaction, then she turned and walked to the double doors on the other side of the kitchen and pushed her way out.

  Honey stood up. This was it! Her chance! She plunged forwards, her neck thrust out eagerly, heading for the back door. But the sudden motion unbalanced the little bat. With a panicked squeak, it lost its hold on Honey’s lips and tumbled to the floor. It hit the kitchen tiles, rolled over and over, and disappeared underneath the counter.

  “Nooo!” Honey gasped. She jerked to a stop and turned back, hurriedly sniffing around on the floor. She thrust her nose into the gap under the counter. She could smell the little bat in there, but she couldn’t push her nose in any farther. Would it come out?

  Honey lay down on her stomach and pressed her muzzle as close to the gap as she could. “Please...” she whispered. “Please, little bat... come out!”

  Honey glanced fearfully at the double doors. She couldn’t hear anything yet, but Cook could come back any minute... she had to get the little bat out of there! She squinted at the gap again and was relieved to see two tiny eyes glowing back at her.

  “Hello,” said Honey softly. “It’s me, remember? I’m taking you home. Can you come out, please?” She had no idea if the little bat understood anything she said, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  Then Honey heard the sound she had been dreading. Footsteps. Echoing down the hallway outside. Cook was coming back.

  She thrust her muzzle into the gap again. “Please come out!”

  Maybe the little bat sensed the urgency this time, but it finally crawled forwards, out of the gap. It was covered in dust and breadcrumbs and looked a bit bewildered, but it grabbed hold of Honey’s jowls with its little feet and Honey stood up again quickly, the bat dangling from her lips. Turning, she hurled herself across the room, her nails skidding on the smooth kitchen tiles, as she made for the back door.

  And not a second too soon. Just as Honey pushed her way out, she heard the sound of the double doors opening behind her. But she was through and free. The cold night air hit her in the face as she scrambled down the back steps and started running as fast as she could across the rear paddock, away from the kitchen.

  The little bat opened its wings suddenly and flapped upside down, squeaking excitedly, as it caught sight of the night sky around them. Honey was relieved that it didn’t try to fly, though, but continued clinging to her lips. She arrived at last beside her friends at
the edge of the forest.

  “What happened to you?” asked Suka. “We were almost thinking of going back to get you.”

  Honey lowered her neck, panting heavily, slobber foaming at the corners of her mouth. The little bat spluttered and squeaked in disgust as drool dribbled from her tongue onto its head. It let go of Honey’s jowls and flopped onto the ground. It was now covered in dust, breadcrumbs, and Dane slobber, and looked like a weird banana fritter.

  “Maybe the bat can ride on my back,” offered Ruffster. “He can hang on to my fur.”

  Suka picked up the little bat and placed it on Ruffster’s back, where it snuggled into the scruffy tufts of fur around his neck.

  “Hang on tight, mate,” said Ruffster over his shoulder. He turned back to the others. “So... which way?”

  Biscuit raised his head from where he had been snuffling the ground a few feet away. “I’ve picked up the scent of water. I think if we follow it, we’ll come to that pond. This way! A-Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!”

  And he led the way into the forest, his nose on the ground and his tail wagging excitedly.

  SIX

  HONEY HAD NEVER BEEN in the forest at night. She had come a few times for walks with Olivia on the weekends, but that had been totally different. Now, she walked with her head lowered and her ears pricked nervously, her eyes darting around. Strange sounds whispered in the treetops and sudden rustlings in the surrounding bushes made her jump. Long, black shadows seemed to leer at her from behind the foliage and the air was full of the alien scents of the night.

  The other dogs seemed to be feeling the same way: Suka was advancing cautiously, her blue eyes intent and serious, Ruffster had his tail tucked low, his shoulders hunched, and Tyson was walking stiffly, his hackles bristling. Only Biscuit seemed oblivious to the ominous feel of the forest. The Beagle was trotting ahead, his nose to the ground, his tail wagging like an upside-down pendulum.

  “You been in here before, mate?” asked Ruffster in a hushed voice.

  “Not this far in,” said Honey, looking uneasily around. “Olivia’s brought me here a few times for walks, but we always stayed out near the edge of the forest.”

  “Me too,” Suka chimed in. “My Boy came here with his class once on a school trip—they were collecting forest bugs. My Boy’s Mother came along to help the teacher and she brought me too—but we stayed near the outside edge.”

  Ruffster peered through the trees ahead. “How far d’you reckon the—”

  An owl hooted suddenly, somewhere above their heads. It should have been an innocent sound, but for some reason, it sent a chill creeping up Honey’s back.

  In front of them, Biscuit stopped suddenly, his nose pressed against something on the ground. They all hurried to join him, squinting in the dim light to see what Biscuit was sniffing so intently. It looked like a set of depressions in the damp earth of the forest floor. Honey cocked her head. After a second, one of the shapes resolved itself into a larger oval surrounded by four smaller ovals on one side.

  “It’s a paw print!” cried Ruffster. “Reckon it’s yours, Honey.”

  “No,” said Honey, her eyes glued to the shape on the ground. “That’s not mine.”

  “It must be,” said Ruffster, laughing. “No other dog in town has such huge paws!”

  “It’s not mine,” repeated Honey, her eyes wide. “I’ve never come this far into the forest.”

  “Hey, mate, maybe you did, but you just forgot,” said Ruffster.

  “No,” said Honey, shaking her head vehemently. “I’m telling you I haven’t! That paw print is not mine. That must belong to the Lucifee!”

  “The what?”

  The others all stared at her, perplexed. Honey swallowed, feeling a bit embarrassed. In a low voice, she told them about Lord Higginbottom’s stories of the mysterious big, black cat haunting the forest.

  “Oooh!” Suka’s blue eyes were sparkling. Honey could tell that the Husky was already looking forward to the next time she visited the dog park, when she could thrill the other hounds with rumours of the Lucifee.

  “Another stupid story,” growled Tyson.

  “Yeah, a giant cat is still a cat,” scoffed Ruffster. Everyone knew that Ruffster’s favourite hobby was chasing cats. He was still trying to beat his own personal record of getting a cat up a tree in less than forty seconds. He gave a disgusted sniff. “Reckon it just has a bigger Kitty Stink!”

  “This isn’t like your fat pet kitties, Ruffster,” said Honey uncomfortably. “Remember the feral cats we met when we were trying to solve the mystery of the scarabs? This is like that, but ten times bigger and fiercer.”

  “Still a cat,” said Ruffster, scornfully. “I’m not scared o’ some stupid cat!”

  “Are we sure it is a cat?” asked Suka, turning back to Biscuit.

  The Beagle took another sniff of the paw print, then looked at them doubtfully. “It could be. It does have a sort of feline odour. But it doesn’t smell like any cat I’ve come across before.”

  “No use standing here speculating,” growled Tyson. “Better keep moving.”

  As usual, Tyson was right. They moved off again, although this time, Honey kept searching the ground in front of her as she walked, looking for more paw prints.

  She didn’t see any more. Instead, she suddenly saw the glimmer of water up ahead. The pond! She picked up her pace, following the others eagerly as they arrived at the edge of the small pool of water. The little bat was sitting up on Ruffster’s neck now, its head moving eagerly from side to side. Its eyes were looking brighter now and it spread its wings a few times excitedly.

  “We’re close,” said Suka, waving her fluffy tail. She looked to the right. “The stream with the bridge should be in that direction.” She turned and nodded slightly to the left. “And the clearing with no trees should be in that direction. So if we head off in a straight line between them...” She looked into the forest ahead of her.

  Honey followed her gaze. It seemed to be even darker in there, the shadows between the trees deeper and more sinister. She had never seen any place look so uninviting. But she took a deep breath and started walking in amongst the trees. The others fell into step behind her. Their paws crunched on the dead leaves scattered on the ground. The owl hooted again, the creepy sound making Honey’s nerves tingle.

  “I don’t like it in here,” whimpered Biscuit, looking nervously around. He froze, staring into the forest to the left of him. “What was that? I thought I saw something big and black behind that tree!”

  “It’s just shadows, mate,” said Ruffster breezily, but his voice sounded a bit higher than normal.

  “How much farther do you think, Suka?” Honey whispered.

  The Husky peered forwards. “I don’t know. How far do you think we’ve come?”

  Honey paused and looked back. She was a bit dismayed to realise that the path they had been walking on seemed to have disappeared. Instead of seeing a clear way back through the trees to the pond, all she could see was a wall of bushes and tree trunks closing in behind them. How were they going to find their way back? What if they were lost? She felt a rush of panic.

  “Ask the bat,” growled Tyson.

  “Good idea, mate!” Ruffster twisted his head, looking over his shoulder at the little bat clinging to his fur. “Hey... um... Squeaky—you know where we are?”

  But the little bat was no longer sitting up excitedly. Instead, it was hunched against Ruffster’s neck, eyeing the forest around them fearfully. It wasn’t even squeaking anymore, which made Honey nervous. Could the bat hear or see something around them that they couldn’t?

  “Let’s just keep moving,” said Suka with another uneasy look around her.

  They started walking again. The trees ahead of them slowly parted and then they found themselves in a small clearing. The moon showed in the inky sky above their heads, obscured by a few black clouds. And on the far side of the clearing was a large, rocky outcrop, its jagged outline silhouetted against the night sky.
A huge, gaping black hole showed in the side of the rock face.

  It’s a cave! Honey realised. She started wagging her tail, her spirits rising. Had they found the little bat’s home?

  “Hey, that’s it!” cried Ruffster, hopping happily from paw to paw. The little bat spread its wings to steady itself as it was bounced up and down. Ruffster gave a happy bark and started towards the cave.

  “Wait!” Suka cried, jumping into his path.

  Ruffster stopped, looking at her in surprise.

  “What about the Lucifee?” she demanded. “What if it’s living in that cave?”

  Honey turned to Biscuit. “Can you smell anything?”

  The Beagle took a few tentative steps forwards and raised his nose, scenting the air. He closed his eyes, concentrating. “I don’t know,” he said finally, looking at them helplessly. “There’s a really strong smell coming from the cave...” He screwed up his face, wrinkling his muzzle. “It’s a horrible, sharp, ammonia smell. It’s covering everything so I can’t really make much else out.”

  “Maybe that’s the Lucifee’s scent,” said Suka with an anxious flick of her tail. “Doesn’t kitty pee have a strong ammonia smell?”

  “Well, we can’t just stand here guessin’ all night,” argued Ruffster. “C’mon. I think you’re all gettin’ scared o’ some silly story. If the Lucifee was here, wouldn’t it have heard us by now and come out to attack us?”

  He had a point. Feeling a bit ashamed, Honey raised her head and began walking towards the cave. Ruffster quickly joined her, lifting his paws jauntily, and the others followed close behind. They arrived at the mouth of the cave and peered inside. The blackness seemed to go on and on. Even Honey could smell the horrible stink now. It was so strong, it pinched her nose and made her want to gag.

  “Who’s going first?” hissed Suka.

  Honey took a deep breath. “I will.” Her legs shaking, she entered the mouth of the cave and stepped into the darkness.