Poppy and Ereth Page 8

  CHAPTER 27

  Poppy Tries to Escape

  “YOU PESKY, sneaky mouse!” yelped Bounder, jumping up and shoving his paw behind the slanting rock as far as he could. “Trying to lull me with your friendly talk.”

  Poppy squirmed farther along the gap. Though it was impossible to stand, she managed to turn about to face the probing paw with its sharp claws.

  Momentarily, the claw pulled back only to be replaced by the glaring brown eye of the fox. “You can’t get away!” Bounder snarled. Next moment he withdrew his face and shoved his paw in again.

  Poppy crawled toward the opposite end. But a narrowing of the gap and the roughness of the stone made movement difficult. Then, even as she approached the end, she saw the fox peering in at her from that side.

  “Give up!” barked Bounder.

  Poppy scampered back to the middle of the rock. Once there, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Bounder was looking in from one side, leaping around, growling and yapping, then looking in from the other side. His barking boomed in Poppy’s ears, deafening her.

  “I’ll just have to wait,” Poppy said. She hugged herself and tried to push away all thoughts of hunger and thirst.

  It did not take long before she became aware that the rock slab was shaking. She looked one way and then the other. At the end closest to the cave entrance and her path of escape, Bounder had wedged his paw deep into the gap. Though still safe from his grasp, it was perfectly clear to Poppy that the fox was trying to topple the slanting stone. If he succeeded, Poppy would be in the open. She would have no choice: She’d have to run for it. But which way?

  The rock moved some more.

  “Give up gracefully!” bayed the fox. “Accept your fate!”

  Poppy made up her mind not to go back into the tunnel. He’ll only outrun me, she thought. Anyway, there’s no real safety that way. My best chance—my only chance—is to get into the open. At least I’ll have room to maneuver.

  Bounder snorted, snarled, and grunted. The rock shook and moved some more. I’m going to have to run for it, Poppy warned herself. She put herself in the best position. Then she had a new idea: The last thing he’ll expect is if I go directly at him. Right into his face. It’s risky, but…Here’s hoping…”

  Bounder had shifted the stone enough so that he was able to get his two front paws behind it. Then his nose. Poppy was sure it was only a matter of seconds before the rock flopped over. It was already beginning to totter.

  She braced herself to leap.

  With a final push, Bounder shoved the rock away from the wall. For a second it stood upright, teetering. Then it tumbled away from the wall, landing with a noisy clatter.

  Completely exposed, Poppy leaped right at Bounder’s face. Just as she was about to reach his nose, the fox jerked up one of his paws and batted her down to the ground.

  Turning a somersault, Poppy came down hard. Stunned and groggy, she staggered up, knowing that she must run.

  For a moment, Bounder was unsure where Poppy had landed and was still searching for her.

  Poppy dived forward out of the cave’s entrance, which opened to Dimwood Forest. Run! she told herself. Run!

  But what Poppy saw next brought her to a complete standstill. She stood absolutely still, staring with horror. Smoke was rising from Bannock Hill. Amid the smoke were bright red flames.

  “Fire!” cried a stunned Poppy. “Fire moving toward the forest!”

  CHAPTER 28

  The Bridge to Dimwood Forest

  THE BRIDGE’S DECREPIT PLANKS, dried out by weeks of drought, burned very quickly. Within moments the entire bridge broke apart and fell, crashing down into the dry creek bed, sending up a cascade of orange sparks and flames that spewed in all directions.

  Some of the sparks and flames landed on the nearby old dead tree. The ancient tree all but exploded into flames, burning like an angry, revengeful torch. It burned so fast it took only moments to topple, tumbling down into the denser forest.

  And when it fell, Dimwood Forest began to burn.

  CHAPTER 29

  What Poppy and Bounder Did

  POPPY, dumbfounded by the sight of fire, forgot about Bounder. Instead, she stared before her. Over Bannock Hill rose great plumes of boiling black-and-white smoke. Spikes of flame darted through the smoke like snake tongues. Trees were ablaze. Grass was burning furiously.

  Abruptly, the fox’s voice broke into her thoughts, even as his paw came down on her tail.

  “You stupid mouse!” he barked. “You could have gotten away. But now—”

  “Bounder!” cried Poppy, pointing. “Look! Over there!”

  Bounder turned, looked, and gasped. “Good glory!” he cried, lifting his paw from Poppy’s tail. “It’s…it’s…fire!”

  Side by side, the two animals stared out.

  “With the forest so dry…” Poppy’s voice faltered.

  “…everything will be destroyed…,” Bounder continued.

  “…and everyone who lives there will be…,” Poppy went on.

  “…killed,” concluded Bounder.

  “Bounder,” Poppy whispered, “my whole family is down there.”

  “My children are too,” the fox replied.

  “I have to warn them,” said Poppy. “But…Bounder.” She turned to look up at him. “I’ll never be able to get there.”

  Bounder stared down at Poppy and then out again toward the fire. Next moment he lowered his head. “Grab hold of my ear!” he cried. “Pull yourself up. Quickly! We’ll need to hurry!”

  She looked up at him, not sure if she understood.

  “Forget all that,” Bounder growled. “This is different. Climb on or I’ll leave you!”

  Poppy glanced back at the fire, then turned back around and grabbed one of Bounder’s ears, hauled herself up, and worked herself around to set herself just behind his head.

  “Are you there?” said the fox. “You’re so light I can’t feel you.”

  “Here and ready!” Poppy exclaimed.

  “Hold tight!” Bounder cried. “If you fall, I’ll never know!”

  “Go!” Poppy urged.

  With Poppy clinging to his fur, Bounder plunged down in a great leap, going so fast he all but tumbled down the ridge. Body low to the ground, bushy red tail streaming behind, neck stretched out, ears pushed back, the fox used his sharp nose to point the way. Charging forward with leaps and bounds over low spots, galloping furiously where it was flat, he raced as fast as he could.

  Poppy, pressed between the fox’s ears, tightly gripped tufts of his fur with her forepaws. The onrushing wind bent her whiskers back and flattened her ears. Every now and then she lifted her head and tried to see where they were. But the bushes, trees, and rocks flew by so quickly it was impossible for her to know, or even figure out, what direction they were traveling. It was terrifying. It was also exhilarating.

  This is so much faster than flying with Luci, Poppy thought. And much more dangerous! She gripped the fox’s fur even tighter.

  Once, then twice, as Bounder made a sharp turn or took a jump and came down roughly, Poppy almost lost her grip. She had to force herself to concentrate on holding on. Then the fox took another soaring leap. He came down with such a rattling thump, the shock caused Poppy to lose her breath.

  On and on they went until Bounder suddenly slid to a halt. His whole body trembling, he panted and took great gulps of air.

  An equally breathless Poppy lifted her head and looked about. They were somewhere in the midst of Dimwood Forest. Thick, heavy smoke coursed in multiple layers, swirling now this way, now that. It stung her eyes and reached into her lungs, making her choke and cough. Its smell was a clotted stench of burning wood and leaves—sickening.

  “Where are we?” Poppy called over the loud crackling and snapping.

  “Not…far from…the forest edge,” the fox gasped as he tried to regain his breath. “Over there”—he pointed with his nose—“is the creek. Where do you want me to take you
?”

  “I need to get home.”

  “Which way is that?”

  “Is that Glitter Creek ahead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know the bridge that crosses it?”

  “Think so.”

  “If you can get me there,” said Poppy, “there’s a path that will take me home.”

  “Keep holding on!” cried the fox. Turning, he dashed toward the creek. Poppy put her head down.

  It wasn’t long before Bounder stopped again. “Poppy!” he called.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “We’re heading right toward the fire.”

  Poppy sat up and looked. The smoke was thicker, the stench stronger. Noises were louder, too. She could see flames. As awful as the summer’s heat had been, the heat from the fire was twice as bad.

  “How far to the creek?” she called.

  “Just ahead.”

  “Hopefully the fire hasn’t crossed over yet.”

  “Don’t know. I’ll try. Here we go. Hang on!”

  As Bounder charged forward, Poppy dropped down again and gripped the fox’s fur. The closer they came to the creek, the thicker the smoke, the louder the flames, the hotter the wind.

  “Here’s the creek!” cried the fox, coming to a skidding stop.

  Poppy sat up. She had a fleeting impression that this was the spot where Ereth had almost drowned in the mud—where she had been flipped up in the air. But what commanded her attention now was the fire on the far side of the creek. There was smoke, thick black smoke. Even more appalling were the great sheets of flame that reached up like jagged red-and-yellow claws, ripping furiously at the sky.

  “Poppy!” Bounder barked. “Look over there!” He pointed with his nose.

  The swirling smoke made it hard to see anything clearly. But what Poppy did see squeezed her stomach: the old bridge, its planks engulfed in flames, had collapsed into the dry creek bed. The fire had spread into the forest.

  Bushes were on fire. So were dry grasses. Entire trees were burning like towering torches. Other trees, glowing red orange, were tumbling and falling, spewing sparks in all directions, setting even more trees aflame.

  “Bounder,” she cried. “Can you see how far the fire has gone?”

  The fox pranced up on his hind legs and then dropped down. “Can’t tell,” he said. “But it looks like the fire must have only just jumped the creek.”

  Poppy slid down his neck onto the ground. She looked across Glitter Creek, where the fire raged and roared. Bannock Hill was no longer visible. She thought of the Gray House ruins—her old childhood home. She wondered what was happening there and, more importantly, whether her relations were safe. Then she reminded herself the house ruins were in the open. Surely the mice living there had seen the fire and escaped. Her thoughts turned back to her own family. If the entire dry forest caught fire…

  “That’s my path right over there,” Poppy cried to Bounder. “I’m going home.” She started off, only to stop and run back to the fox.

  He looked at her quizzically. “What’s the matter?”

  “Thank you, Bounder!” Standing on her rear toes, she gave his sharp nose a hug.

  Bounder stared after Poppy as she began to run down the path. Then he looked at the fire, which was now moving rapidly into the dry forest. “Poppy!” he barked. “Can you go faster than the fire?”

  She paused. “I’ll run.”

  “It’s burning too fast,” said the fox. “The heat is too great. Let me take you.”

  “Bounder! You’ve got your own family to find.”

  “I don’t even know where to start looking,” barked the fox. “Come on! Get back on.”

  Poppy hesitated.

  Bounder leaped to where Poppy was. “Hurry!” he barked, pawing the ground with impatience.

  “Bounder…”

  “Do it!” he all but snarled, shoving his nose into hers.

  Poppy took a leap, landed on the bridge of Bounder’s nose, and then ran up his face to where she’d been before, between his ears. This time, however, she stayed high, wanting to be able to direct the fox.

  “Holding on?” called Bounder.

  “Yes!”

  “Straight down that path?”

  “Unless I tell you otherwise!”

  “Here we go!” the fox bayed, and started forward with a trot, only to shift into a gallop as he skirted close to the fire, close enough so that his hair singed.

  Poppy, clinging to the fox, heard the fire’s roaring, crackling ferocity and could feel terrible heat on her back. She felt compelled to look and was all but blinded by the intensity of the flames when she did.

  “Am I going right?” barked Bounder.

  Poppy swung around and shouted, “Yes!” But even as she turned she lost her grip. The next moment she tumbled to the ground, striking her head.

  Bounder, unaware that Poppy was no longer with him, raced on.

  Poppy lay still on the ground in the middle of the path. Behind her, the fire continued to spread.

  CHAPTER 30

  Where Is Spruce?

  ERETH HAD INFORMED JUNIOR about the dell that he had selected for Poppy’s funeral service. Junior, agreeing, said, “There will be at least a hundred of Poppy’s closest and dearest relations. The ones who loved her most. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. Which is to say, everyone.”

  Ereth, thinking I loved her most, smiled.

  “And Uncle Ereth,” Junior reminded the porcupine, “you will make just a few opening remarks, won’t you? The rest of the family, my brothers and sisters, want to speak.”

  Ereth continued to smile.

  Junior considered him with some puzzlement. “Uncle Ereth, are you all right?”

  “Of course I am!” cried the porcupine. “Why are you asking?”

  “Because you are, well, smiling. And you never smile. It looks…somewhat…odd.”

  “I don’t care what it looks like. I am smiling because I want to!” Ereth snarled through his smile.

  “But this is such a sad time. Why are you smiling…now?”

  “If I want to be sad by smiling, then I’ll smile!” shouted Ereth. And he put his paws into his mouth and pulled the corners of his lips to either side so as to make the widest grin possible.

  Junior considered the porcupine. “And, I just realized, you’re not swearing either.”

  “Listen here, you pickled—”

  “Pickled what?”

  Ereth smiled broadly. “Never mind.”

  “Fine with me,” said Junior, shaking his head. “We’ll have the service today, at twilight. It should be a little cooler by then.”

  He turned away but glanced back.

  Ereth leaned forward and grinned at him.

  When Junior returned home, he told Laurel about the arrangements Ereth had made for the service later that day.

  After listening, Laurel said, “Junior, do you have any idea where Spruce is? I haven’t seen him for quite a while.”

  Laurel and Junior asked their children if any of them knew where Spruce had gone.

  Clover said, “He went to find Grandma Poppy.”

  “Poppy!” said Junior. “Why would he do that?”

  “He said she went flying somewhere.”

  Junior sighed. “Did he say where he was going to look?”

  “Glitter Creek.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Dogbane said, “I was going with him, but then I decided to come home. He kept going.”

  Junior conferred with Laurel. “Glitter Creek is a long way off,” he said to Laurel. “I’m not even sure he’s been there before.”

  “Now, Junior, you know how often Spruce has taken off on his own. I wish his brothers and sisters were as independent. And he always gets back safely, doesn’t he?”

  “But Poppy’s funeral service is going to start soon. He doesn’t know anything about it.”

  “We’ll leave Dogbane here,” suggested a calm Laurel. “When Sp
ruce returns, the two of them can come along to the dell together. Now, I think you’d best consider what you’re going to say at the funeral, and don’t worry about Spruce.”

  CHAPTER 31

  The Rescue

  IT WAS A VERY FRIGHTENED SPRUCE who crouched in the hole beneath a rock, wishing someone were with him, wishing he were home, wishing he had never come. Every few moments he crept to the mouth of the hole and peeked out. All he could be sure of was that the smoke was getting thicker.

  Maybe, he considered, it would be better if I went down deeper. But even as he began to retreat, he heard the sound of galloping pass by, followed by a soft plop!

  Then—silence.

  Spruce was afraid to move. It’s some animal, he thought. A big animal. It was running. I bet it was running from the fire. The way the rabbit was running. Maybe I shouldn’t be hiding, just running.

  He listened hard, straining to hear if the animal was still there.

  Hearing nothing, Spruce crawled to the top of the hole and carefully peeked out. Though there was a lot of smoke, he saw nothing of the fire. But he did hear crackling, which told him the fire was close. Then he noticed something on the path. He stared at it. It was a mouse.

  Next moment Spruce’s heart seemed to turn over. “It’s Grandma Poppy!” he shouted. “She’s landed!” And he leaped out of the hole and ran to her side.

  “Grandma Poppy?” he cried, leaning over her. “Are you all right? What was flying like?”

  When she did not reply, the terrified mouse looked toward the creek. He saw flames coming toward him. They were spreading quickly in all directions—including his—snapping and snarling like the angriest of animals.

  “Grandma!” cried Spruce. “You have to get up!”

  Poppy stirred and blinked open her eyes. “Spruce!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came looking for you,” said the young mouse.