The Adventures of Button Broken Tail

Buttons and Great
Horde of Rats

Buttons had gone to her favorite spot in the Great Field early in the afternoon, expecting to meet Sally, her beagle friend. Ssserek, the great serpent was not present, so she sat, watching and listening. The wind was low and brought few messages with it. The Great Forest in the distance was silent. It was too early for the hawks to be soaring overhead. Even the bugs were few. Quiet, it was so quiet that she finally lay down.
But she really didn’t want to, and moved about restlessly. The dreaded dreams had returned; they were increasingly difficult to manage by herself. Sally’s absence made it ever harder, more difficult than ever before. She didn’t like them, and shrank from the night, fearing that when she slept, they would be there. But she was young, and like the young, must sleep when fatigued. And, she had become very fatigued of late. She started to lie down, but got up again and moved about the rocky knoll, sniffing here and there, trying to forget, trying to keep her mind off the dreams. She sat once again, only to stand, stretch, and then yawn. What was keeping Sally? Buttons needed her now, but she was late.
She moved to the flattest part of the small knoll, where Ssserek liked to sun himself in the afternoons. She sat as a butterfly flitted slowly by, turning and twisting as they did. She lay down as she watched the small bug moved about, just in front of her nose. She slept.
Like the butterfly in flight, her dreams were erratic at first, but then she began to run. Anywhere, it didn’t matter, she had to get away.
Run, Buttons, run. His high-pitched squeal urged her on. Run, little dog, run.
She was running, running as fast as her heart could bear, running, and running. But she didn’t seem to move. The horizon was flat and brown, wavering ever so slightly. Strange, there was no sound, but the bushes swayed, their limbs swinging to and fro in what must be a strong wind. But there was none. No noise, no wind. Just running, and running, and running. She couldn’t stop, or the pain would begin. She couldn’t look behind. They might be there. Her legs moved, her nose was to the ground, but the rocks and dust were always the same. They never changed. They were always in the same spot. Great rocks, towering over her, small rocks and stones spread among the bushes, dust hanging in the air, clogging her nose. Her chest hurt, her breathing became faster and faster. Still nothing happened. She hesitated. She couldn’t keep on going. She must stop.
She glanced behind. And then, they were there. Red eyes, small at first, unwinking, red eyes growing larger and larger. They were following. They were catching up. She cried out. But no sound escaped her lips. She shuttered as she began to run faster again, faster and faster. The world was smooth, flat, all the same around her. Just the eyes and Buttons. Angry eyes, evil eyes, mean eyes. They didn’t blink. They just stared at her as they filled the sky. The horizon disappeared into red, unblinking eyes. They began to whirl and eddy around her. The bushes reached for her, red, angry eyes hanging from them, whipping to and fro in their evil hatred of all life but their own.
The eyes began to change, drifting toward one another. They merged, melting into one another, slowly at first, and then faster, and faster, and faster, keeping pace with the small dog’s flashing legs. Then, they moved ahead. Laughter, evil laughter was there. Though she couldn’t hear it, she could feel it. She wanted to cringe, but wouldn’t They would never make her do that. She started to lift her head, to slow down, but couldn’t. The eyes wouldn’t let her as they swiftly became one, a single large red, angry eye. Then suddenly there were two, flanking a long, gray snout, surrounded by grinning teeth. No, not that. There were fangs, and then teeth, flashing back and forth beneath the two unblinking eyes.
A rat—thin, ribs prominent in his scrawny sides, his belly shrunken with hunger—stood before her. Buttons attacked without thinking, her sharp teeth ripping a scream of pain from the rat. It whirled and tried to toss her off, but she hung on tenaciously, digging her paws into the ground, forcing the rat down onto its side.
Then, he, the Great Rat leader, was there. She let go of the first and attacked, even though he was as big as she was. He smelled dead and moldy. Large, gray, with unblinking, evil, red eyes, he smelled, always the same. Loathsome creature though he was, he was strong, and her leap barely budged him. Suddenly, she was pulled off the rat by another, and was surrounded by many rats who laughed and tittered to one another in their cruel language. Their eyes were red, and as the rats hunched down, they waited, daring her to come at them again. The first rat slunk back into the crowd, his tail dragging on the ground in defeat.
The King Rat was the largest rat of all, and he smiled all of the time, his teeth and eyes glittering as he watched her. He moved through the other rats as though they weren’t there. At first, he said nothing, but when he did, it was a whispering hiss, laughter, in the back of his throat, hatred in his eyes.
The other rats began to chitter as he spoke. “Well, what do we have here, my friends?” He would swing his head from side to side each time he said something, waiting for the others’ hateful responses. “My, but what a big puppy we have here. How grown she is, sending one of us sneaking off with his tail on the ground.” His voice rose in a shriek. “You’ll regret that, little puppy!” His voice suddenly dropped and he looked at her again, his eyes never leaving hers. They were horrible, the meanness, and, yes, the hunger, that was always there.
Buttons was small and scared. Terror was beginning to grow deep inside. But she ignored it as she stared into the red eyes before her. She would not back down, but attack him she did, even biting him on his foreleg. But he was big and strong. Still, he squealed. And then they were all on her, or at least that’s how it felt. He shouted them into order before she knew what was going on. He limped over to her, slowly walking around. She tried to turn to face him, but two big rats wouldn’t let go of her, each holding onto a shoulder. Their teeth, sharp and strong, hurt. But she didn’t say anything; she wouldn’t give them any satisfaction. Then at his command, they began to race in at her, several at a time, nipping her as they did so. She fought back, returning bite for bite, until she could no longer move, her muscles twitching with fatigue. She sat, but would not go down on all four, turning her head back and forth, daring as best she could any who would approach her again.
Hurting all over, the terror inside grew until she thought she would faint from it alone. The rats, too, were tired of their game, though their laughter never let up. The King Rat had sat off to one side, watching, and then returned to face her.
“Bite me, will you!” He chuckled to himself, as though it were all a joke. She thought it was to himself and the others. “No, fun though this has been, I think there’s a better way in which to make an impression on one so young and ferocious.
“Do it now!” He suddenly shouted at the two large rats. They grabbed her again, this time by either side of her neck as another grabbed her tail. There was a terrible pain. And then, they were all laughing at her, pointing at her tail.
Her tail hung limply, broken in several places, blood dripping to the brown earth. She turned and turned again, trying to see it, but could not. Then she ran, bursting through the crowd of rats, their laughter filling her head, their eyes again whirling in the air. She ran and ran. But whether it was from the rats or her broken and bleeding tail, she could not tell.
Buttons lay on her side, her legs twitching, her ears laid back against her smooth, rounded head. She whimpered in her sleep, and then began to snarl as a small red-and-white beagle rushed up the hill. It was Sally, and she stopped abruptly as she saw her best friend beginning to snarl. Sally moved forward quietly, until she stood beside Buttons. The beagle was worried, worried about her best friend and what was happening elsewhere. Well, first things first.
Sally gently nudged Buttons, poking her in the side, very gently at first, and then with greater urgency, whuffing as she did so. Buttons’s legs stopped, pawing the air, and her breath came more slowly. The Scottie dog’s ears perked up, and then her eyes opened. Then she leaped to her feet, snarling at Sally as though she still confronted the rat. But as full consciousness returned, she dropped her head, shame rushing over her like a blanket of fear. Trembling, she looked at her best friend, Sally. Seeing her for the first time, Buttons spoke.
“Oh, Sally, it’s so awful, so terribly awful. Every time. Every time I sleep, he’s there, laughing at me as they did that awful day the rats caught me.” She sighed deeply. “That day.”
Sally knew exactly what Buttons was speaking about, as Buttons had told her many times what had happened.
“That awful day, Sally. When they broke my tail.”
She would not look backward, knowing all too well what she would see. A broken and twisted tail. It was hateful. And it had been painful, as the evil, grinning Great Rat leader made sure.
Sally nudged her, shoulder to shoulder, rubbing her head against Buttons’s head. There was nothing to be said, Sally knew that, and did what she did best—quietly reassure her best friend with her presence, her gentle touch.
Buttons stood, and, taking a deep breath, said, “I won’t forget. But, he will not beat me. Not even in my dreams.” She looked hard at Sally. “I’m sorry to always be such a nuisance. But, but, well . . .”
Sally grinned. This was more like it. Buttons would recover fully from the dream. And, in time, to get on with more problems.
Slowly, Buttons stopped shivering as Sally walked shoulder to shoulder with her, reassuring her again and again. Sally was slightly taller than Buttons, and whereas Sally had slender legs which one day would carry her swiftly wherever she went, Buttons was stocky, and for a female Scottie, broad in the shoulders. Both were young and greatly appreciated by the inhabitants of the field and forest for their adventurous spirits and their ability to deal with problems others could not manage. Being young, their spirits were typically high and sometimes mischievous. Buttons recovered quickly. Clearly, Sally was deeply concerned about something. Something that would test both spirit and mind. Nightmares would have to wait.
Buttons turned to Sally, questions in her eyes.
Sally nodded and then answered without being asked. “We have real problems. Well, anyway, the otters do. Something terrible has happened. They need us. Now.”
Wasting no time for further discussion, both headed south towards the running river which lay at the edge of the Great Forest. Sally and Buttons broke through the forest brambles and up to the edge of the river. Two very large adult otters watched them from the opposite bank, sitting upright so nothing escaped their attention. Although the otter parents were very careful in the education of their young, playtime was theirs alone. But today, things were different, and Buttons and Sally had immediately sensed it. Something was wrong.
They turned and moved parallel to the river, several of the younger otters matching the two dogs’ pace easily in the water. Reaching the dam of the beaver tribe, they carefully made their way across, being particularly careful to disturb nothing. The beavers tolerated the two, but were short-tempered at the best of times. And this was not a good time. The sense of wrong and terrible deeds hung heavily in the early morning sun which filtered through the overhanging branches.
Buttons and Sally approached the elder otters cautiously. Although very good friends with one of the younger otters, Dodger, this was no time for games. Dodger sat at one side, his silence a warning greater than action or words. He simply stared at his two friends as they approached shoulder to shoulder, inseparable friends. The two, Scottie and beagle, stopped short of the two magnificent otters. Sleek and immaculately groomed as they were, they frowned, and the larger male actually bared fangs, something that Buttons and Sally had never witnessed before in all of their many visits and many pranks among their good friends, the young otters.
The female of the pair simply stated in muted tones, “One of the small ones disappeared two days ago.”
Buttons and Sally gasped. Sally blurted out, “You mean one of them drowned? Haven’t you looked downstream? That’s terrible.”
The older and larger male dropped to all fours, glaring at the small beagle, his eyes burning into the beagle’s. “No, that’s not what’s meant. One of them was taken. Taken right out of the den, at night, when his father and mother were absent for a few minutes.”
It was Sally’s turn to frown with horror and disbelief. Never in her experience had anything like it ever happened. She couldn’t believe it and wanted to know more.
Buttons stared in fascinated horror also, not knowing what to do. She glanced over at Dodger who still sat, quietly watching the two. He had not moved forward.
“Surely,” thought the beagle to herself, “he cannot believe we had anything to do with it.”
But this was a ghastly occurrence. The otters were jealously protective of their young who freely roamed the river and its banks, oftentimes in the presence of the two dogs. Their parents had never interfered before, though it was quite uncommon for any other creatures to join the otters in ramblings along the river.
Stepping before the elders, both dogs nodded as Buttons carefully and respectfully addressed them. “Obviously, something terrible has happened. We will do what we can to help resolve the situation.”
The two elders sat upright again, and surveyed the two with sharp eyes and keen wits. They needed all the help they could muster, but these two young dogs. That was a matter for due consideration, but both knew there was no time for that. They quickly made up their minds.
“Quickly follow us.” The two elders moved off, followed by Buttons and Sally, glancing worriedly at one another. Dodger and two young otters followed at a distance, curiosity and fear making them watch the forest more carefully than ever before.
A muskrat slowly moved out of his den as they passed. He peered suspiciously at the group and chirped a short question, and then moved in line behind the small group.
Their goal lay at the far end of the row of dens, and both Buttons and Sally immediately moved forward to survey the surrounding wood which was quite close. The otters had stopped and allowed the two dogs to investigate on their own. They knew that while their own noses were very good, these two excelled.
Sally moved toward the wood as Buttons carefully slipped into the den, closely followed by the two inhabitants who immediately placed themselves before their newborn. They intently watched every move, their muscles bunched in anxiety.
Buttons slowly circumnavigated the deep and comfortable den, ignoring the parents guarding their newest litter, now smaller by the absence of one. Her nose close to the ground, she slowly moved about, stopping and sniffing more closely at displaced leaves. There was a musty odor. A feeling of fear began to grow in the midst of her belly, slowing growing as she continued to move about.
Yes. There it was again, nearer the litter. Stronger, too. The sensation of evil crawled up her spine, the hackles rising involuntarily along her back. The otter parents sensed something was wrong, but could not identify it. The small dog’s composure was rapidly disappearing as she moved toward the litter.
The parents glanced at one another as Buttons moved past them, not seeing the two in her concentration. She sniffed once, and then slowly took a deep breath, containing within it the sweet odor of the newborn otters and something else. She gently nudged a newborn to one side and sniffed deeply again.
Buttons’s eyes were large in her head as she turned to meet the worried expressions of parents and the elder otters who had moved in to observe the Scottie’s actions. Buttons had dropped her head to the ground once again after the first glance.
Stiff-legged, she moved by the otters, her nose following a trail neither otter nor dog could see, but one which was all to clear to the keen nose of Buttons, who was beginning to tremble with deep emotion. That emotion was becoming increasingly evident to the worried otters.
Buttons left the den and turned to the wood as Sally reappeared. She, too, like Buttons, was gripped by emotion and almost slipped into the river in her anxiety to reach her best friend.
The elder male otter wore streaks of silver fur on his face. His features were blank, and he said nothing. As the two dogs reached one another, his lips slowly curled upward and backward, baring large, white fangs. The normally smooth features became increasingly gaunt and fearful as the emotions emanating from the two dogs closed around him. The hair on his nape slowly rose as he moved forward to sit beside Buttons and Sally.
Sally turned to him, having to sit so that she could more clearly see his features. “Sir, Buttons knows what happened. She immediately recognized the smell.”
The large otter raised himself to scan the wood, and then quickly lowered himself to all fours and moved toward Buttons who was sniffing audibly, scanning back and forth, anxiety clearly written in her quick side-to-side movements. Her small feet were a blur of movement as she covered the ground about the den and between den and forest. She was snarling and her fangs were clearly visible. Anger and fear were readily evident.
As the otter’s approach caught her attention, she stopped. Though small, her defiance and anger were admirable. He paused as she slowly relaxed and the glitter in her eyes ebbed.
“You smell better than we, even after two suns have moved by. What is it that so disturbs you, little one?” The elder otter’s head moved to and fro, seeking to find what disturbed the small Scottie. “Please, it is our river and our young who are endangered. Share with us what you have found.”
His voice was low. Nice things were not happening. The otters moved closer to hear better. Sally waited for Buttons to speak.
Buttons looked up and at the same time began to tremble. She then moved further from the group of young ones. Turning, she addressed the elder otter. Her voice was taut and closely controlled.
She hissed, “The rat. He is back.” She could say no more at the moment as her strength almost gave out, Sally’s shoulder giving her more confidence than Buttons felt.
The elder knew the young dog in front of him was fearless and to see her fear made him shiver inwardly. There was more here than he and his group had suspected, and he began to wonder if he had made a mistake in not making the loss of a young one more widely known. But nothing had ever disturbed his group’s peace. The River Running was always there and had been the same in his memory. Now, something of which he knew nothing was intruding itself. He looked back at the row of dens along the riverbank. This was his home, nothing could be allowed to disturb it. But he felt helpless, only the two stalwart dogs standing between his clan and a danger unknown.
He turned and lifted his silver snout to the sky and whistled a pure, rich sound that carried to all corners of the river and its inhabitants. Peremptorily, he summed the other elders. They needed to know. Noses and then eyes, followed by the sleek bodies of young and elder otters emerged from the many dens. Some slithered into the water to swiftly make their way upstream, others simply ran as never before, their supple bodies moving gracefully in their leaping, scrambling rush to answer the sudden and unexpected summons. They gathered around, on all sides, shoving and pushing to be near their leader.
Others came as well. Muskrat and beaver moved more slowly, but they got there. Deer peered with frightened eyes from dense thickets as a small bear rolled into view, splashing into the river. Birds appeared in the sky and settled on nearby limbs of bush and tree. Even a rabbit or two dared to move into the sunlight, their long ears twitching to and fro to catch the least word.
As the many animals swarmed about the elder, he motioned them to silence, indicating by a nod where they were to sit.
Sally moved alongside Buttons and pressed next to her friend’s side. The elder looked down on the two dogs.
His voice was low and his fear and worry showed clearly on his aged features. There were many, and not all young, who shivered at his appearance. “Buttons,” he asked, “what is it? What’s wrong? Who is this rat?”
Buttons moved forward to stand before the elder, her head high, her eyes flashing in anger. Her tone was firm and her words carried to all inhabitants of the forest, field, and river present at that fateful moment.
“It is The Rat.” She stopped momentarily to reconsider. “No, it is the rats, all of them. And, there are many, indeed. This is not the first time they have entered the forest, but always before it has been unknown, except to a few. They are many and they are evil, cruel, and strong. They will dare anything. As you have suffered, so will others.”
At this announcement, there was a sudden rush of words from other creatures of the forest. A squirrel who sat on a limb of a tree overhanging the river cried out. “My little one. He disappeared several days ago. Oh, oh, oh,” she wailed, unable to say more. Birds ruffled wings angrily, their sharp words coming like spears, stabbing at the crowded river creatures. “My eggs were stolen . . . Oh, my babies. Last week, it happened, our nest was robbed also . . .” And so it went, until the elder otter whistled them all into silence.
Buttons looked around and up at the trees. “Yes, that is what they will do. They will steal eggs and young ones. They fear nothing or no one when in great numbers. We are all threatened. All creatures of the forest and field, and, yes, river, too.”
She stopped as several birds and other forest creatures hurried away to spread the word, and, more importantly, to protect their nests and dens. Nothing could stop them, and neither Sally nor Buttons could had they wanted to.
The elder otter looked down on the small dog. “How do you know all this? How did you come by such evil news?”
Buttons shuddered, her recurrent nightmares very fresh in her mind. Sally nudged her.
“Go on, tell them. They all need to know.”
Buttons looked at her closest friend and gulped, her insides churning. Then in a clear voice which broke only once, she told of her meeting with King Rat and his evil and cruel minions. She left nothing out. She described his cruel and vicious minions, their mean and twisted souls, their lust to kill and destroy. She told of the attack and said little of her attack and defense, though many could supply what was unsaid as they watched the anguish and pain of the small and brave Scottie. She relived the pain of her tail being broken and bloodied. She told of the many days that followed as her tail healed, the slow healing that left her tail curled against her rounded rump, ugly and twisted, never again to joyously fly above her back as she dashed through the forest.
She finished, “I remember his odor as though he were standing in front of me . . .” She sighed and looked about her.
Angry words came from all directions. Words of fear also were there, and doubt. The otters began to gather around their elder as other creatures began to do the same. Sally and Buttons looked at one another, and then Buttons took a deep breath. She did not want to say it, but it was necessary.
“There is no time for each clan to act by themselves. They will take all of us. All. One by one in the stealth and darkness of night, or during the day, if they must. Do you understand? No one can stand aside.” She stepped to a higher knob of the slopes of the river. “First,” Buttons said, “we warn everyone on the river.”
She looked to the young Dodger, the otter. “Off you go, take some friends. If you see Ms. Lucie, let her know everything immediately. She and the other birds see more of what passes in the forest than anyone else, though they don’t share much information with us.”
Buttons and Sally glanced at the otters and then were off to the shallow ford below the dam. Over their shoulder, they shouted, “We’ve got to find Ssserek!”
Before Dodger had time to answer or approach the elders, the two pups had disappeared into the forest.
Dodger quickly moved toward the eldest of the elders, and sitting quietly, coughed gently to catch their attention. The eldest was silver from snout to shoulders, and he turned slowly. His eyes were deep brown, and within their depths lay much experience, knowledge, and were it known, humor.
“Well, Dodger, get on with it. We don’t have all day.”
Dodger was taken by surprise. “Get, get, get,” he stuttered.
“On with it,” replied the eldest. “Get your group together and get the message out. We serve the river, you know. No dallying. Move!”
He chuckled as Dodger grinned back in sudden comprehension.
Then Dodger moved with the lithe quickness of his kind, rapidly gathering his peers around him. Then, they all moved, some up the river, some down. There was urgency in their swiftness, but no stumbling or fumbling. They knew what had to be done. Like Buttons and Sally. They had a message to carry, and they would.
Even as Dodger disappeared into the depths of the river, Sally’s bugling could be heard in the distance, calling all creatures to Ssserek’s rock. As Buttons and Sally made their way through the forest, now and again they stopped so that Sally could catch her breath before sending out her piercing bugle. It was not long before reached the clearing in which Ssserek’s rock was to be found. They hurried to the top to find both Ssserek and Ms. Lucie, a small sparrow of great wisdom and experience, waiting for them.
Buttons wasted no time but rushed up the small knob of a hill to the great flat stone on top. Ssserek lay coiled up, with Ms. Lucie perched comfortably on one as she and Ssserek spoke. Both looked down on the two pups as they appeared. Buttons breathlessly spoke to the two.
“Ssserek, we need your help, both of you. The rats are out. We must stop them.”
“Easy, my little one, Ms. Lucie and I were just discussing the recent depredations in the forest and field when we heard Sally’s summoning bugle. Well done.”
“But, Ssserek, you will help, won’t you?” Buttons’s tone was desperate. Under normal circumstances, Ssserek, the great serpent spent his time alone. Few creatures dare approach the rattlesnake; fewer still had any desire to do so, although all recognized his great knowledge. Buttons and Sally were the only two creatures who were to be found in his presence on any given day.
The great snake sighed. He and Ms. Lucie were just discussing the matter for both knew of the intrusion of the rats. Ssserek, of all creatures, knew them well, having met them at night as they crept about on their nefarious deeds. None survived such meetings, but it was not in his nature to pursue the matter further. The snake clan stayed to itself, having little commerce with others. He paused as he gazed down on the two small dogs, his eyes staring past them as he thought of his first meeting with Buttons. He sighed a second time. There would be no saying no to this smallest of Scotties.
As Buttons began to bounce back and forth before him, Ssserek smiled slowly. He sighed for the third, and last, time.
Ms. Lucie smiled to herself, recognizing the interplay taking place before her. Buttons’s boundless energy transmitted itself to everyone around her. Ssserek was needed and Buttons was the only one who could engage his fullest attention at such a time.
Ssserek lifted his head, looking about as other creatures began to make their way into the clearing. He looked at Buttons and Sally, Buttons moving back and forth in her ceaseless and youthful impatience.
“Yesssss,” he said slowly, “I will help. I have met them. What will you have me do?”
Buttons and Sally leaped upon him, joy in their voices. They turned to view the many animals slowly filling the clearing. Deer, rodent, and birds. Their leaders came, grudgingly in some cases, but they came. Soon, all were in deep conversation as Buttons and Sally spoke of the happenings along the river. Ssserek and Ms. Lucie spoke and everyone listened. Ssserek’s concern was far greater than anyone knew. He spoke of the Great Swamp, the dark depths of which held Rat Island, until recently the only gathering place for the rat clan.Few could approach it and live. Fewer still wanted to see it, or its inhabitants.
Many of the larger creatures moved away from the clearing. Certainly, they had nothing to fear from rats, but the urgency in Buttons’ voice kept them near. They would at least listen before going their own way. This was no concern of theirs.
Three woverines slowly moved forward, Their long coats brushed the ground with each step. The largest and the one with grayest snout led and then moved in front, parting the other creatures like a dreadnaught of old. He paused, and bowing to Ssserek, raised his head. He spoke quietly as was his habit, but his words carried to all. “We are few in number, but we know the rats for what they are. We fight!”
Ssserek nodded and went on.
“The message must go out. Everyone must know, creatures small and large, for the rats would not hesitate to attack even the larger creatures if the rats were in large numbers.’’
As Ssserek and Ms. Lucie spoke, all listened. Ms. Lucie represented all birds, and her message was most urgent. She must know what was going on. Although most birds had little to do with those who walked on four legs, their vision was keen and they must share their sightings.
And so the message went out far and wide, Buttons and Sally leading the way throughout the day and into the night.
Across the fields and the Great Forest, even across the Great Swamp itself, the message went out. Deep into the forest and swamp it went. All small creatures, rodents, and others gathered and talked. They had the most to fear.
The birds, at Ms. Lucie’s encouragement, became increasingly involved and their patrols could be seen passing to and fro overhead. Squirrels, chipmunks, gophers, field mice, and others watched and listened. Nights were long and the usual rustlings and movements were quieted.
All the wild hogs and peccaries, Biff the bear and his kin, the deer, and others soon became more involved. No one could be left out. None were.
Still, even with the best of watchfulness, the depredations against the young ones continued. The soft chirruping call for a lost young one could be heard each morning. Even the birds in their nests were not immune. Ducks, geese, and other water birds suffered the greatest losses, their precious eggs disappearing with regularity. Fox, ferret, and coyote began to patrol the edges of ponds, their appetites whetted on an anger never before experienced, honed by the carnage about them.
Buttons and Sally were everywhere, speaking to everyone they met. Natural enemies must come together. The attacks were tearing the very fabric of the forest, field, and river apart. The loss of young ones would deplete the forest and field of all life. The loss of beavers threatened water supplies of the herds of mustangs and other larger animals. Small pools of once clean and clear water were being fouled by the rats. Diseases heretofore unknown were beginning to appear.
Rodents of the fields, like the water birds, suffered untold deaths. Even fawns had been attacked by increasingly larger groups of rats who would suddenly leap upon the sleeping creature in the still of the night, ripping the life from the young before the doe could react. Rabbits were pursued into their complex warrens, prairie dog towns disappeared, and increasingly, bold, single rats could be seen during the day, insolently sitting in open areas, sunning themselves where once the young innocently played.
Nightly, Buttons and Sally patrolled the fields to listen to the messages and words being passed across the land. Even their keen ears could not pick up the passage of small feet and hungry, red eyes that moved closer and closer to the Great Field.
Then one day, they were moving toward the forest along a well-known trail when suddenly their passage was blocked by the enormous figure of their friend, Biff, the black bear.
He woofed gently as his short-sighted eyes peered down at them. He knew them well, but still his bulk prevented their movement forward along the trail.
“Hey, what’s up, Biff?,” they said together, wonder and worry in their voices. “What do you think you’re doing? Let us by.”
“Can’t,” he answered, still sitting squarely in their way. “Orders, you know.”
Buttons cocked one eyebrow as she inspected the bear, bulging with spring’s first berries. “Whose orders?” She waited as the bear looked around, scanning the bushes, then the trees.
“Well, it’s this way. Ssserek told me to patrol this trail. So, I’m patrolling it.” With a wicked gleam of humor in his eyes, he couldn’t help but add, “And you.”
Buttons moved up to sit before Biff’s nose. “Look, fatso, no one’s told us anything about big, porky old bears telling us what to do.”
Then, she darted to one side as Sally took the other. But as quickly as the two could move, Biff was faster. Sweeping out his great limbs and fanning his claws, he deftly gathered them in as a child would his favorite toys.
“Umph, ouch. Watch it, you great, big lout. Hey, that hurts,” they shouted as they were thumped together, again just in front of Biff’s nose.
He snickered, “Not too bad for a fat porker, my chowder-headed little friends, now, was it?”
He poked Sally with one great curving claw, making her jump to one side as best she could. He never really appreciated his own strength, but the two dogs did, having in the past experienced it when roughhousing with him.
Buttons stood up, placing her paws on his snout. Looking him squarely in the eyes, she addressed Biff with her best commanding voice, “Let’s not be boorish, my fat-headed friend. Let us by. We’ve got things to do.”
He snorted, causing Buttons to bounce backwards, tumbling into a heap beside a disgruntled Sally. They exchanged glances, and then more meekly approached Biff.
“Come on, Biff. Just what’s going on? How about it, huh? Really, we need to go into the forest today.”
“Not today, or tomorrow, or the next. Not until I’ve got orders.”
Biff sat up, his stern expression being replaced by the wide jovial countenance they knew so well.
“Look, you two. You can’t go in.”
“But why not?”
They were surprised. Now that pleasantries had been exchanged in the usual and customary fashion, it was time to get down to business.
Biff looked about with humor in his eyes. “I was told to guard, and I’m going to guard.”
“Look,” he repeated, “Ssserek said you can’t go in.”
“Oh,” was all they could manage while they assimilated this new datum.
Biff went on. “He said you’re not allowed in. At least not until we know more about what’s going on.”
“But why not,” asked Sally. “We know every inch of the forest. We can go places where you and others can’t.”
“Precisely the point. But, they can, too. Ssserek said so.” For Biff, that finished the matter.
Both Buttons and Sally knew better than to force the issue, but their curiosity was aroused. They wanted to know more. Besides, there was something fishy here, and they meant to find out.
Biff was happy to expand on the topic because he truly liked this pair, for all their snide comments about his bulk.
“If I can find you this easily, they can, too.”
Sally looked at Buttons quizzically. “Just how did you find us,” she asked Biff.
“Hey, I’m good. You know how smart we bears are.”
Buttons guffawed, making Biff frown.
“You are fantastic about a lot of things. But you couldn’t trail your own tail around a tree.”
This made Sally giggle, but they both had to leap backwards as Biff flopped down in front of them.
One lip curled as he responded, “Circumspect, as usual, Buttons?”
Biff grinned, knowing the word circumspect meant caution but implied looking around.
They all joined in the laughter at the play of words. This was a game they could enjoy, excelling as they did at it.
Sally broke in, “You’re skirting the issue, Biff.”
Once again, laughter broke out. As Biff’s sides heaved with mirth, the two dogs suddenly broke in two directions again, only to be ignominiously returned to a scrambling dusty heap of legs and painful cries.
Biff puffed more dust into their faces as he said, “I know your circumlocutions (evasions in speech, but again meaning speaking around) too well for such nonsense.” Again, he huffed and chuckled in mirth at his comment, making both Sally and Buttons snort in disgust. They had been had, literally, and they knew it. But, they knew it had been worth the try.
The rotund figure of Biff rose to sit once again. Then, his expression changed as a look of deep concern crossed his features. Buttons immediately sensed something was wrong.
She stalked up to the bear and sat before him, motioning him to lie down so that she could see his face better. Biff shuffled his feet and looked about, but finally did as she commanded.
“OK, out with it. Just whose idea was this in the first place?”
Biff heaved a deep sigh and looked sheepishly at the two. “Well,” he began, “Ssserek did tell me to guard this trail. They’re all being watched, you know.”
It was Sally’s turn to frown.
“Look,” he said, “you’re too important to us to allow you to go messing with rats in the forest. I . . . well, Ssserek did tell me to guard this trail,” he finished lamely as his shoulders slumped.
It was Buttons’s turn to frown and reconsider what had happened. Yes, they had fun with Biff, but his concern was obvious.
“Are the rats being seen in greater numbers?” Her question was to-the-point and Biff could not evade it. He knew it, too.
“Yes,” he said as he gazed in his short-sighted fashion at the two before him. They meant a great deal to him. He was reluctant to let them go into the forest by themselves. But, Ssserek’s orders had been very explicit to all those creatures given the responsibility of watching different areas of the forest. He couldn’t leave his post, but he didn’t want to leave these two either.
“Yes,” he repeated. “There are more and they are doing more evil things. It’s very dangerous until we know more. Right now, Ms. Lucie and Rarebit, the frog have shared their maps of the swamp with Ssserek and others. The swamp folk know and watch with us, for if the truth were to be really known, they have suffered the worst of all. They have almost totally left the dark corner to the rats, but all approaches are being manned and guarded. Anyway . . .” He was about to continue when a voice addressed them from a limb just above their heads.
Ms. Lucie’s voice was soft but magisterial. Her eyes glittered with humor and appreciation of the exchange to which she had listened in its entirety. She was a small, neat, and very prim sparrow who took no sauce from anyone. The blue jays and cardinals could bully birds smaller than them and would chase others from the bird feeders kept by many people who lived near the Great Field and Forest. But none approached Ms. Lucie except respectfully, and the thought of threatening her never entered anyone’s mind. Well, at least none ever mentioned it aloud. None dared.
“If you three are quite finished with your games, Ssserek is waiting for you on his favorite sunning rocks.” She smiled to herself as she thought of Rarebit, the frog, the navigationally oriented frog who spent all of his time charting every nook and cranny of the Great Swamp. No one knew it better than him. At this critical time, Rarebit’s unique hobby would prove to be invaluable.
All three of the young gulped. They liked and sincerely respected Ms. Lucie, but you never knew when she would show up.
“Off with you.”
“Needn’t worry, Ms. Lucie, we’ll be circumspect.” Shouts of laughter lingered after them on the warm afternoon air.
She turned to Biff who had regained his composure and was sitting as he intently watched the trail Ms. Lucie watched him closely as she surveyed the surrounding forest. There were many areas in deep shade, some were so darkened that nothing could be seen. She stirred restlessly. Guarding the many paths and trails was very important, but even someone as large as Biff could be seriously injured if attacked by a large group of rats and taken entirely taken by surprise. She needed to rethink their strategy. One or several birds with each of the four-legged creatures would be better. That would reduce the chances of total surprise and would allow quicker warnings to other guards. The guards needed to be changed more often, too. To be rotated. That would keep the rats guessing more.
Pinning Biff, the bear with her sharpest look, she addressed the surprised bear. “You too, Biff, off with you. You could use the exercise. Circumnavigating the field.” She cocked an eyebrow as Biff began to argue. He ceased immediately.
“Not to worry. I’ll have others here in moments to take your place. I need someone who can move in and out of the forest’s edge more easily. That’s the place for you. Not here, sitting like a bump on a log. You’ll just fall asleep, anyway, fall off and hurt your head.”
Biff would have objected, but knew better than grinning at the prospects of moving about more freely. He turned and ambled off, quickly disappearing into the deep thickets as only a bear can.
Ms. Lucie shook her head. Where would the woods and field be without such as them, she thought to herself. Sighing, she gracefully swooped into the air and headed toward the deeper portions of the forest. Danger lay there and it was up to her and her kind to detect it before it was upon them in force. Fear for what could happen to such as Buttons and Sally, and, yes, even Biff the bear, chilled her to the marrow, and she raised herself above the trees into the sun where she belonged.
Buttons, Sally, Ssserek, and Ms. Lucie were soon in conference on the ragged pile of stone and rocks. Ssserek lay twined about several small stones, their heat radiating into his welcoming bones. His head rested upon a flat, slate-like stone and his deep eyes watched Ms. Lucie with interest. Little escaped these two, and their exchanges were generally rapid, skipping many details which others would have lost themselves in. They understood one another, and it was not necessary to speak to the obvious. Their enemy was well-known, and both Ssserek and Ms. Lucie respected their being cunning, if not hating their cruel and wanton ways.
Ms. Lucie was speaking.
“I have posted jays, fly catchers, and larks around the entire swamp. The woodpeckers will signal immediately if anything should happen. The red-wing blackbirds sit upon their willow reeds in all shallow bays, keeping watch for any untoward movement. Even the grackles are flying in large numbers over the deeper areas of the swamp. Frogs, toads, and turtles are everywhere, but lay quietly for their kind have suffered unexpected losses these past weeks from the rats taking both the youngest and the infirm eldest.”
Ssserek cocked his head slightly to one side to better view Ms. Lucie. “And the four-legged ones? What do they do?”
“They have the complete plans of Rarebit, the frog. His plans are accurate. Unfortunately, there are uncertainties in them regarding the darkest areas of the south swamp. He dares not go there and too many of his relatives have tried, only never to return. We have shared all of the plans with bear, deer, coyote, and the small creatures who burrow deep beyond the means of even those foul rodents. I believe we will know in time.”
Her voice was hesitant and the uneasiness was there for Ssserek’s keen ears. She ruffled her feathers, bringing herself back to her usual state of calm composure.
Buttons rose and moved about restlessly, her pacing anxiously followed by the other three. They knew she was deeply concerned for all of the young and old who had been lost. As young and rash as she could be, at this time, she was learning to think, and to think hard and well. She had two of the finest teachers available.
Buttons stopped before Ssserek and sat, looking from him to Ms. Lucie, and then to Sally. “But why? Why now? They have always ventured into the forest on rare occasion. But, what are their intentions?”
Ssserek spoke slowly, each word being weighed carefully. “Space, perhaps. Others have taken aggressive actions to increase their space within both the forest and field. Hunger. The few seen have been thin, willing to attack even those much bigger and stronger.”
It was Ms. Lucie’s turn to speculate. “Rat Island may not be able to support those now there. Rats are destructive creatures, even to their own nests. Perhaps, there numbers have increased too quickly of late. That has happened, as we all know, to the deer who suffer terribly at such times. Unable to find sufficient space or enough food for the increasing numbers.”
Sally had perked up her ears at the discussion and then interjected, “Personally, I think they are simply the meanest possible creatures and look to conquer the forest and field to have to themselves. Selfishness is considered a strength in their clan.”
Ssserek smiled briefly. “Think harshly of them as you will. But, be careful. Do not underestimate them, whatever their motives, however mean, or cruel, or foul they may be.”
Sally spoke up, her thoughts taking a different tack. “Our guards are all out. Are they sufficient in number?”
Ms. Lucie answered. “Yes, all that can be done is being done. I have sent Biff, the bear to the Great Field. Milo, the moose waits quietly. For all his youth and inexperience, he is patience incarnate, like all his kind. Sparrow and mockingbird pass to and fro over the zoo’s grazing field to the south, keeping him posted. Don’t worry.”
At this point, Ms. Lucie was quite confident, and her tone conveyed conviction. Ssserek relaxed ever so slightly. There was still so much to do.
Ignatius, or Iggy, the squirrel, came rushing across the open field to the rocks, hurtling himself up and on to the rocks near Ssserek and Ms. Lucie. All small creatures carefully observed a no-animals policy regarding the rocks, but this was an emergency.
He bobbed his head jerkily to Ssserek and Ms. Lucie and turned to Buttons. “Oh, Buttons,” he said. “Buttons, they’ve attacked Biff. He’s been hurt awfully bad. He needs you.”
His eyes were pie-shaped circles in his small face as he turned from Buttons to Ssserek. Ms. Lucie gasped, and all of them turned immediately to her.
“Quick, Iggy, where, where did the attack come from?” She fluttered in agitation, hopping up and down. Not waiting for a response, she turned to Ssserek. “It’s my fault. I sent him out.” She whirled on Iggy who leaped backwards, startled by the small sparrow’s actions.
“Well,” she said. “Where?”
“AAh, ah, it was near the edge of the Great Forest. He’s humiliated and angry. Hordes of rats came and attacked all at once. There were so many he couldn’t turn fast enough to stop the bites and slashing. I, I . . .” Iggy stopped and sobbed as grief for his friend overtook him.
“One got on top of his head and tried for his eyes. I don’t think he can see.” He began sobbing uncontrollably, his scrawny shoulders shaking.
Buttons and Sally whirled as one and were ready to hurry to their friend’s aid when Ssserek’s soft and sibilant voice stopped them in their tracks.
“Sssstop. Thissss is no time for that. Iggy, are you sure? How badly is he really hurt? It’s very important.”
Iggy gulped and took a deep breath. “He . . . he’s bleeding badly from his eyebrow on one side. I guess other than that he’s really mad, tearing bushes from the ground in his rage. He’s . . . he’s really mad. I’ve never seen him like that.” Iggy finished, his sharp features fixed on Ssserek’s calm face.
“Sooooo . . . Good. Perhaps it’s not as bad as you think.” He turned to Buttons and Sally.
“Go at once. See what is wrong. We’ll be along as soon as possible. The other elders must know, so be quick.”
Iggy led the way, skipping around and through rock and bush in his normal quick and nimble fashion, the two dogs having little difficulty keeping up. It was further than they had thought, and they arrived panting heavily.
Biff lay curled up in a clump of bushes, quietly licking multiple small wounds on his feet and ankles. His ears had been torn but would heal, clotted blood hiding the worst of the wounds. He turned quickly as he heard their approach and rose to a defensive position in one swift movement. His head hung down, and he stared at them blearily through his right eye only. The left eye was hidden beneath a torn, bloodied eyebrow at which he would paw absent-mindedly now and again. Seeing who it was, he relaxed slightly, but remained on his toes, glancing to his right and left.
Buttons quickly motioned him down. Both her actions and words clearly stated there was no time for recriminations or complaints. The bear did as she indicated.
Buttons and Sally’s inspection was as fast as it was thorough. Yes, he had taken a beating. There were many small wounds on any exposed flesh. His thick spring coat had spared him where another creature would have died. The eye needed to be cleaned, but where?
Sally and Buttons moved to one side, leaving Iggy gently patting the bear on his bleeding nose. “I don’t know,” said Sally. “I just don’t know.”
Buttons glared at her best friend. “Well, I do.”
Just then, Ssserek and Ms. Lucie arrived, the sparrow landing on a bush close by. “And, what do you intend?” Ssserek spoke in a low tone, ignoring the bear and squirrel. “Remember, they’re near. And if they will attack a bear, just what chance will you have? Stop and think.”
Ms. Lucie spoke up, her voice clear to all there. “Ssserek, you’re right. But, there may be other reasons. If they’ll attack a bear, they’ll stop at nothing. But, more worrisome, why would they attack Biff? No one in his right mind would do that.”
Sally and Buttons both started to speak at once. Buttons nodded to Sally, who began, “First, just out of shear rat meanness. That’s their way. Hurt anyway they can, anyone, anywhere.” In turn, she nodded toward Buttons.
“I can vouch for that. But more importantly, it could signal a general advance on every animal in the Great Forest and Great Field.”
Ms. Lucie sighed, “You’re probably right” She looked with great concern to Ssserek. “We must go back to the rock to await the signals from our watchers. Buttons, you and Sally must finish caring for Biff. Rat bites are terrible and may kill without more than a scratch.”
Buttons looked at the bird defiantly. “I know what to do. First, the pool of the beavers. We’ll take him there. There is no cleaner water in the forest.” She turned to Iggy, “Find the otters and have them at the pool as soon as possible.” With that, they were off.
Sally and Buttons led the partially blind, limping, and very gruff, young bear toward the river and the beavers’ pool. No one knew more about healing than the elder beaver and otter. The two eldest of the females often worked together tending for the injured and hurt. So it was a very tired bear who waded out into the cool waters of the pool and slowly submerged himself in the clear water as several otters and beavers slowly circled him.
The eldest female otter drew near and spoke in her quiet but commanding voice, “Now, take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can while we look over that swollen eye.”
Biff could swim very well and did as he was told to, slowly sinking into the depths of the pool.
Sally and Buttons paced up and down at the shore. They knew how bad a rat bite could be. Nothing ever healed properly, it seemed, after a rat had bitten someone. Buttons was becoming angrier and angrier, snarling even at Sally as she tried to cheer her friend up. “Just stay away from me. I’ve just about had it. Do you understand?” She didn’t wait for an answer but began to pace again.
Biff’s head slowly emerged from the water, and the two dogs hurried to the shore as both the beaver and otter quickly made their way ahead of him.
The elder otter rose to her full height as she addressed them.
“He is hurt, but will heal in the way of the young. His eye is better than it looks. We cleaned it thoroughly and the beaver will pack it with the proper healing mud. It will remain puffy for a while, but do not worry, he will be in fighting mettle very soon. You did well in getting him here so quickly. Otherwise . . .”
She quit talking as the young bear shook himself off and followed the elder beaver along the shore.
In a cool place, he lay down as demanded, and the beaver went to work, applying a healing poultice to his eye. The otter nodded to the two and moved toward the bear, leaving Buttons and Sally alone, Iggy sitting above them watching with grave concern. He had not spoken during the entire episode, but simply sat wide-eyed as he watched his two best friends.
Buttons turned to Sally, her voice sharp and taut with anger and hatred. “I’ve had it. I think I know when they will come to shore. Do you remember, after the storm when we went along the swamp and found all of those trees down? How we went out on them with Iggy and the raccoon twins? Remember how far we had gotten before Ms. Lucie caught us and warned us back?” Her eyes glittered as she recalled that day.
Sally watched her friend with growing concern. “Yes, I remember. It would serve as a perfect bridge across that point. But hadn’t we better warn Ssserek and Ms. Lucie?”
Buttons frowned. “No time. Besides, as I said, I’ve had it. I’m heading for the swamp. Now!” She turned to go, then stopped, good sense getting the better of her anger.
“Call the muster. Call it to completion. We meet at Turnkey Bay. Hurry.”
Buttons was off, her small, black figure disappearing quickly into the gloomy dark which surrounded the beavers’ pool. Sally did as she was asked, and pointing her nose upward, began to bugle. Time and again, her high-pitched bugle sounded, carrying far and wide.
Instantly, a young wolf appeared with a ground-eating lope, his nose telling him exactly where to go. He followed Buttons’ tracks as though they were carefully stamped into the ground. She was not to be alone. And no one disobeyed Ssserek’s command.
Sally stood still, having finished her task. Then, with Iggy close behind, she turned and followed after Buttons and the wolf.
All the animals came, their passage was swift, if noisy, sending sleeping birds and rodents racing in all directions, some in panic, others in an orderly retreat from the edges of the swamp. Sally’s bugle went up again, her cry warning all those who watched that something was amiss. The field and forest awoke with a start. The battle would soon begin.
Buttons made no sounds but read the scents on the air like words in a book. The soft padding sounds of the wolf behind came to her keen ears, but she moved, her anger mounting as she neared the swamp.
Badger, skunk, raccoon, and mink surged up to the bank. Wolf, coyote, and fox ranged further out, keeping pace with ease. The larger of the woodchuck and groundhog slowed and took up their assigned places; they would form a rear guard, ranging back and forth between forest and field. They were not fighters under usual circumstances, but they would go down before allowing any rat to pass through to the defenseless small ones of the field and what lay beyond.
Full-grown bucks and the smaller males among the deer moved to and fro at the edges, their keen senses alert to possible attempts to skirt the defenses being mustered in full force. Only the hardiest and more daring of the rats would attempt to cross the river to the south. Too many and angry and vengeful eyes waited any such occurrence. The distant northern side was barred by the highway and fenced human fields. No, only the forest and field lay before the rats, and that way they were surely approaching.
Red-winged blackbird and morning dove rose into the air. They moved silently to the east, and then to the north, carefully approaching the deeper portions of the old swamp. Faint rustlings came to their sharp ears, but at this time, they could as yet detect no movement. Back and forth they moved, making intricate patterns in the sky.
All around the forest and field, birds were lifting into the air. Their keen vision was desperately needed this day, and they would not fail. Deer moved off silently, taking up the vigil at the periphery of the major action. Their swift speed would be needed to carry messages deep into the forest where birds could not penetrate with ease.
The large bulk of Biff moved south also. He was limping but gallant, one eye closed with poultice, the other glaring with anger. He moved not so swiftly, but his rolling gait covered the ground with amazing alacrity when he felt the need. Today, there was need.
The small rodents of the field and forest also moved south. Although they were little match for the larger rats, they would and could fight when the need was upon them. It was, now. The otters, too, moved toward the swamp. None would escape their attention should they prove foolish enough to move toward the river. The muster went on.
As Ssserek and Ms. Lucie were approaching Turnkey Bay with Rarebit hopping behind, a distant urgent whistle from the sky came down the wind. They moved even more quickly, the clamorous voices of many birds now joining that of the hawk, which soared in the distant sky. Nearly out of sight, the high-pitched whistle came again, urging them to even greater efforts.
The rats had been sighted. Just as Rarebit and Ms. Lucie had surmised, and Buttons had more recently guessed, they were coming in a tumbling rush of innumerable bodies. As Ssserek and Ms. Lucie had hoped, Delph, the alligator had appeared. Having escaped from the cruel cage of a roving side-show artist, he had taken abode in the swamp where he had met and been befriended by Buttons and Sally. As expected, he had laid in wait, as only an alligator can, resting comfortably on a partially sunken log, with only his keen eyes telling of his careful vigil. He could lay for hours on end, never moving a muscle except for his eyes, which missed nothing moving overhead, beneath the water, or on top of it.
It was Delph, the gator who had given the first warning to the birds overhead. He had lurked deep in the darker regions of the swamp until the first distant chitterings of the rats had warned him of their approach. Then, having warned the birds of the oncoming danger, he had fearlessly cruised along the rats. First, the rats had moved during the night along the edges of the fen and marsh, then had taken to the small islands and tussocks of grass which provided good footing and cover. Only when they had taken to moving along the trunks of dead trees torn up by the previous season’s storm could they be spotted. Here they moved swiftly, literally tumbling over one another in their hurry. Their eyes glowed red with anticipation. Their hunger was great, and with its urgency pressing them on, their anger, simmering at best at all times, now rose to greater heights. Their hunger drove them, while their anger gave them the necessary strength to surmount difficult objects that lay in their path. And behind, the voice drove them. A whiplash of hatred and spite. It drove them with barbs of words, promises of gluttony, and most of all, anticipation of hate’s fulfillment.
Buttons was at the swamp’s edge, waiting patiently now that the time had come. She did not turn as Sally and the young wolf ranged along side. With Ssserek’s and Ms. Lucie’s approach, Buttons turned and briefly nodded.
She glared at Rarebit, then relenting, spoke, “Rarebit, please go. This is no place for you. We couldn’t have properly prepared if it hadn’t been for your knowledge of the swamp. But, go. Please.”
Of necessity, Rarebit left, recognizing the wisdom of the words. A small frog would hardly have slowed the smaller of rats. His knowledge had been given, his plans lay out before all. Ms. Lucie must assume both roles now. Rarebit had no place in battle such as was coming, and Ms. Lucie was safe in a tree where she could observe the battle from her high vantage point, while receiving messages from the many birds that flocked above.


As she settled to watch, the battle began. Dwellers of the forest, field, and woods rushed to the shore as the high-pitched cry of the rats sounded.
Ssserek, Earl, the wolf, and the two small dogs met the first rats to land. The battle surged to and fro along the shore, the two small dogs doing great damage in their initial fury. But the numbers of rats increased rapidly, many rolling off the logs into the cold, deep water to swim ashore in a widening front of glaring red eyes.
As Earl fought with the singular intensity of his kind, several more wolves appeared, including the younger wolf who had followed Buttons, diving in to rip a ferocious rat from Buttons’s back. Others came; coyotes and a young lynx appeared as more rats drove upon the dogs. The rats could not match the wolves and coyotes in strength, but hordes of them kept appearing, driving ever further toward the forest, the depths of which could give them cover and the ability to attack from all directions at the same time.
Ssserek rose up and moved toward the vanguard of a new cluster of rats crossing tree limbs to sand. The rats recoiled as he struck and struck again. Bodies flew in all directions, and the serpent, wolf, and coyote made bloody forays into the rats’ midst. But there were too many rats and too few four-legged fighters. Suddenly, like a bullet from the sky, Ms. Lucie appeared by Ssserek.
In a whirl of wings, Ms. Lucie circled Ssserek’s head. “Keep it up. Rabbits and squirrels are sacrificing themselves to keep the rats from the forest. Small field mice are attacking a single rat in great numbers.”
Ssserek turned once again to the battle. At the shore’s edge, Buttons and Sally could be seen going down again and again under the weight of rats, only to rear up once again. Buttons would grab one, and with a furious shake of her head, would send it flying, the rat’s neck invariably broken.
Ssserek called to the two dogs who were tiring rapidly. Hardly any larger than the largest rat, they performed feats beyond any animal several-fold their size. But they were young and their energy was waning rapidly.
Ssserek called out, “Bugle, Sally, bugle as you have never bugled before. Bugle for more help.”
Ssserek’s exhortation was not lost on Sally as she and Buttons recognized the need for larger and stronger allies. Up went Sally’s voice, its clarion call reaching across marsh and forest. Buttons’s voice rose with Sally’s, the two resting against the fearsome form of Ssserek’s great breast.
Their voices carried above the trees, reaching out in urgency to bear, badger, and owl, reaching out to all who had claw or fang. The need was great, as it was urgent. And they came, large and small, brave and not-so-brave, they came.
As Biff—his anger and hatred covering him like a cloak—slashed at the remaining rats on shore, Buttons had attacked one of the large rats with the full ferocity of her breed. Born to be rat killers, she had reverted to her ancestral drives and was upon him before he had time to brace himself. She moved with a slashing attack which, in its utter recklessness, almost carried the day. Small she might be, but she was fearless though she faced an animal larger and more cunning. Even as she bowled the rat over, she was on top, tearing at his shoulder. He screamed in pain and drove her back. Back and forth they went, Buttons tiring as the fatigue of the long fighting caught her once again. The large rat grinned evilly and rushed at her, only to be smashed to the sand by Biff’s broad paw. He grinned lopsidedly, but moved back to the general fray.
Behind them, the deer had come in a wave of bodies. Then, it was the largest of the wild pigs, followed in turn by the smaller wild hogs. Their eyes matched the red of the rats, and the glitter of their anger was fearful to behold. Their broad noses swept mud, swamp, and rats before them, sweeping all indiscriminately into the air. What the deer missed the hogs could overwhelm with their bulk and strength and greater agility. Behind them came the peccaries and bobcats, raging to and fro, guarding the back of the deer and hog. And behind them were many wild or feral cats, feline grace and strength wreaking great havoc upon their natural enemies.
Cross-eye, tomcat and feline companion of bobcats, yowled in joy as he nearly bit through the neck of one rat while clawing the eye out of another. His low-pitched scream of pure fighting joy raised the fading spirits of all. His speed matched his ferocity, and the rats drew back in fear and wonder at his awesome attack.
It was perhaps the small size and ferocious strength of the peccaries which finally began to turn the tide. Their size was small, but their strength was great. The peccaries fought with tooth and cloven hoof, tearing and stomping, their high-pitched squeals of anger reverberating against the bordering forest.Their spirits rose even as Cross-eye, with a young bobcat at his shoulder, moved further in the now-crowded rats who were retreating into those who were moving forward.
Then, off one of the last remaining logs, King Rat appeared in front of Buttons. “So, little one,” he whined, “we meet again.”
Buttons’s snarl rose as she smelled the evil one. He was near, and she meant to have him. She turned and was off, racing across the fallen log. A large cluster of rats turned and followed, their red eyes never leaving the small, black figure.
The rats quickly closed the distance between themselves and the small, black dog. Just as they launched themselves upon her, the figure of Biff and the lone wolf appeared. Biff slashed right and left as the wolf tore into the rats. The rats were fierce fighters, quick and intelligent in their movements. But they stood no chance against the bulk and strength of Biff, and even less, against the cold ferocity of the wolf.
The situation was rapidly resolved in their favor. As Biff sat panting while the wolf dispatched the last of the rats, he turned back and forth, seeking Buttons. But seek where he may, he could not detect her. He turned right and left, but could not pick up her odor in the fearful mess of marsh and broken rats. The young wolf nodded without speaking a word. Both knew what must be done. They moved off more slowly now, casting back and forth along the shore as it turned and twisted to the south.
But past the shore, Buttons stared at her tormentor.
“You are brave, little sister,” he hissed at her. “But it will heed you nothing this day. You belong to me.”
Buttons’s ears laid flat back along her head. Her snarl rose as she attacked, slashing at the shoulder of her vile opponent. The rat moved like a flash, twisting to avoid her attack, and at the same time, tearing her flank as she passed.
His gleeful hiss came clearly. “Too late, little sister, my minions are even now circling to enter the forest. Once there, we will never be dislodged.”
It was Buttons’s turn to scream, shrilly for the pain was great. She turned in less than the length of her small compact body and grabbed the rat’s long ropy tail. He rose into the air, his voice tearing at her in anger and pain. He tore loose and raced for the embankment and the forest beyond.
Buttons’s four legs churned the sand as she leaped after him. As she leaped upon his back, she spoke into his ear, “Not yet, my old friend, not just yet. Remember?”
Her jaws clamped tightly about the tail and the two rolled down the embankment. The rat had never known such pain, and he heard his tail snap as she crushed it. He squealed again and again as he ripped his torn and bloodied tail from her grasp.
“You, you, fiend. Look, look at what you have done. You’ll pay for this.” He leaped at her, his lips as red with blood as his eyes were with hatred.
Buttons leaped to one side and slashed the shoulder of the rat as he passed. But the rat was able to bowl the Scottie over and turned, leaping upon her, his teeth going for her exposed neck.
Buttons kicked upward with all four feet, catching the rat squarely in the chest, sending him rolling in the sand. Both leaped to their feet, heads low and fangs bared. They circled, the rat’s tail dragging as it left a thin trail of blood on the sand. He backed away from the snarling small dog whose coat was smeared with mud and blood. Then, with a sudden leap, he lifted himself onto a tree trunk, racing away from her, deeper into the swamp.
Buttons never hesitated. Scrambling onto the tree, she followed, taking more care than the rat, whose claws could more easily grip the wet and slippery surface. Further out they went, tree to tussock of grass to tree, and finally, to a small island of grass and mud. He smiled grimly as he hunched himself for the anticipated attack which came quicker than even he had expected. The small dog wasted no time in circling. She simply launched herself straight into his face.
The snarling mass of Buttons and the rat disappeared into the swirling pool of cold, dark water. They sank rapidly into its depths, but the rat fought his way free and swiftly moved toward the surface. Irked now, and weak from the loss of blood, he pulled himself partially onto the bank of the small island of grass. Buttons more slowly struggled to the surface. She was a poor swimmer at the best of times, and now, she, too, was weak and tired. Her fear she swallowed, not without some water. Despite her waning strength, her determination rose with her, slowly at first, and then more swiftly. Seeing King Rat crawling from the water only gave her greater resolve.
Her short legs churned the muddy water into a froth of muck, weed, and grass. She leaped upon the shore and grabbed the rat as he was about to move even deeper into the swamp. He screamed once again as her needle-sharp teeth pierced his flesh. Buttons was not to be denied. She whirled him about and then tossed him off the embankment, slipping as she did so on the wet grass mixed with mud. He sank into the dark waters without a sound, his lips curled in a silent snarl of hatred and glaring eyes. But Buttons’s footing was poor, and then she fell with a loud splash into the water once again. This time, her tired legs could barely move. She gasped for air, but sucked in water. Her lungs felt on fire. Then, as weariness overcame her, she slipped slowly and then more rapidly into the depths where glittering red eyes waited.
With great numbers and the weight of those numbers, the rats had almost overcome the four-legged fighters that had waited onshore. The rats’ slashing attacks on the flanks of the advancing animals had been defeated. Still, they had come on, where water moccasins, rattle snakes, and others had waited as the second line of defense.
Then, the rats had hesitated with the bellows of Biff sounding across the swamp. Unexpectedly, their attacks began to break apart. First, large groups hesitated, then broke in different directions. Then, smaller groups began to rush back and forth, all coordination lost.
“What has happened?,” Biff asked.
As Buttons and the great leader of the rats had disappeared, the rats themselves became more and more confused. The young wolf limped forward, bleeding from many cuts and slashes. He shook his head, blood spraying from a torn ear.
“Where is she? I followed but lost her when attacked.” His eyes were tired, but greater still was the worry which tore at him. Ms. Lucie fluttered about above them, her calls to hawks and blackbirds, to morning doves and crows went unanswered. None knew where Buttons had gone.
The creatures of the forest and field fell back momentarily, the heart of the defense gone. But if Buttons had been lost, so too was the rat leader. Even more than the loss of Buttons, the evil presence that gave the great horde of rats their cunning and persistence was now gone. They were ripe for attack from all sides, and Ssserek lost no time in giving the order. The Great Wolf leader, the Earl, advanced directly ahead, with younger wolves flanking his every movement. The heads of snapping turtles and water moccasins appeared in the midst of the swimming rats, doing great damage and causing great turmoil. From the air, hawks and kestrels swept down upon the rats gathering on the trunks of trees. The rats were swept into the water, where serpents, turtles, raccoons, and others waited.
Sally stood alone, drooping with fatigue and worry. She could not sense Buttons, her ears, nose, and eyes finding no evidence of her. She sagged, her left rear leg badly bitten and bleeding. Her ears bled from many bites, but to these and other wounds she paid no heed. Where was Buttons? She turned and twisted, testing the air for any indication of Buttons. But there was none. Butttons might have disappeared from the earth for all the winds could tell. Sally sat, and turning her nose to the air, emitted a low moan which began deep in her chest and slowly grew as it rose. Others began to take up the call even as they fought. Sally crumpled to the earth, bereft of hope, her breath coming in short, painful gasps.
Ssserek’s head swept back and forth as he viewed the carnage taking place before him. In his many years, he had never witnessed anything like it. But he was worried. His small friends had gone. Most importantly, the impertinent Buttons had disappeared. She with her great joy in life, her zest for adventure, her inquisitive nose, and very sharp teeth. She, the small dog with all the questions. Where could she have gone? What had happened? Never before in his long life had he cared for any one creature as he had the two small dogs. He had conquered his most basic instincts and his patience had increased immeasurably as had his joy in life. He sighed, deeply.
Ms. Lucie had regained some of her usual composure, sitting above Ssserek’s head, watching him with concern. Serpents such as Ssserek and his kind could be terrors at the best of times. But she had come to appreciate his wit, his insights, and his increasing love for the forest and field. She crooned softly in her throat. She was about to take flight when her thoughts were interrupted by a splashing sound.
Ssserek looked to the swamp with shock. Below, Rarebit huffed and puffed in disbelief, then he croaked in a harsh deep voice. “She comes, I believe, but many more rats also come. More help is needed.”
“She comes, she comes,” Ssserek almost pleaded.
Even as his hopes rose, the swamp seemed to have taken on a new life of its own. It moved as one, heaving and tossing as though in a storm. Then quickly, all too quickly, the moving mass resolved itself into individual rats, in as great numbers as before.
Those standing onshore shuddered. This was too much. They had fought so hard, but there were too many. This time they couldn’t win.
Sssserek moved to the water’s edge, his eyes intent upon the approaching mass directly moving toward him. He swung back to Sally. “Bugle again. We must have the hogs and peccaries. Bugle for Milo, the moose. We need their strength now more than ever. Hurry.”
Sally did as she was asked, but she couldn’t face another attack. Her voice was nearly gone as she finished, and fell rather than sitting, slumping to the ground, anger in her eyes and agony in her heart. She almost fainted, but would not. She would go down, just as Buttons had. The world seemed to whirl around her even as the first rats reached the shore. Their eyes glittered, and the first shadows of evening ominously fell across the trees.
The rats stopped, waiting for the others to catch up. Then, as their ranks filled and began to crowd the water’s edge, they moved as one. Their eyes were upon Ssserek and Sally. The two had to die first. Then the others at the shore. And then, those within the forest. No matter how many it took, they would be victorious.
The wolves attacked with the bobcats and rarely seen lynx and others filling spaces being quickly created by the crawling mass of rats. The fight could not last much longer.
Suddenly, everyone stopped. The earth began to tremble beneath their feet. Help was coming. And it did. In a great mass of huge bodies. The wild hogs had regrouped. They stormed into the mass of rats, broad shoulder to broad shoulder, their heads lowered as before, sweeping mud and dead rats into the air.
The smaller peccaries followed. The attack was ferocious, the hogs and peccaries utterly fearless. But their numbers were too small and they began to tire also.
Then came Milo, the moose. Young and a friend of Buttons and Sally, he had quickly escaped from the grazing field of the zoo. Milo was moving swifly as only a moose can; nothing had stood in his way or barred his path. All were swept aside. Quickly sizing up the situation, he moved into the shallow water and bore down on the masses of rats swimming to shore. They stood no chance against his great strength and his huge antlers still covered with spring’s first felt. Rats, water, reeds, and weeds were thrown skyward to fall in disorganized masses of rats entangled in the mess of water vegetation. Through them he went, then back, and back again, until only masses of struggling rats were to be seen and taken at the leisure of the waiting wolves and their comrades-in-arms.
Milo moved toward shore, a dripping mass of water reeds tangling from his antlers. The glare in his eyes softened as he saw his friends. Then worry replaced his pleasure. So many were absent. He shook himself. His head rose as he bellowed his triumph and sadness.
Rarebit issued from the dense thickets that stood before the forest. “Listen, Lucie, listen to the hawks.”
She turned her head and did as requested, not hearing the lack of proper address. Then, she, too, vaulted into the air, and her small figure disappeared into the distance, moving with haste toward the deep swamp.
Biff arrived in a spray of sand and bits of grass. He was smiling, his one good eye beaming proudly. He wanted to swat something, anything, but glancing at Ssserek, he quickly sat and waited for events. His grin was infectious as he poked Sally in the ribs. She groaned and slowly lifted her head, her eyes bleary with pain and sadness. What was this? This great oaf of a bear grinning at a time like this? Her foggy mind slowly regained some degree of understanding, and she, too, slowly sat, leaning against the broad rump of the young bear. She began to grin, too.
Then Sally bugled in relief and joy, the gathering wolves and coyotes adding howls and yipping calls of joy also. Sally snapped at the tail of Biff, and then she and the bear began to race around, yipping and yelling, chasing one another’s tail.
Ssserek lost his temper. Rising to his greatest height, his shout froze the young animals in their tracks.
“What’s going on? Tell me immediately, or so help me . . .”
He gasped for breath. He, Ssserek, the most incredible serpent the field had ever seen, the irascible, the all-knowing Ssserek, was at a loss for words.
Sally turned to the swamp. Something was moving toward the shore. It lay low in the water. Floating below the many birds came Delph, the gator, his bellow of greeting crossing the water to welcoming friends. Delph chortled. He guffawed, his grin rippled to and fro across his great snout. His eyes shone with brilliance, and then nearly crossed as he attempted to view his passenger.
Ssserek flopped to the ground. This was too much. Sally bugled in greeting as she spied the well-shaped head she knew so well.
Standing as tall as her short legs allowed, Buttons stood behind Delph’s eyes, and her greetings to serpent, winged animals, and all the creatures rose into the air. Delph’s elongated figure swept onto the beach, and lowering his head to the sand, Buttons disembarked. She turned to Delph, who slowly closed one eye. She then carefully gave him a long, slurruping kiss. Delph hummed in deep contentment.
Buttons than approached Ssserek, and her nod of greeting took in both the great wolf, Ms. Lucie above them, and the serpent. A large water moccasin followed closely behind, and his nod was to Sally, whose smile now included everyone on the beach.
Delph was opening his mouth when a large broad paw descended on his head, not for the first time. His swiveled up to spy Biff comfortably ensconced on the sand.
Buttons raced to meet Sally, careful not to bump her too hard. They nosed each other, nudged one another, walked around and around for several seconds until they were satisfied that the other was still intact, if somewhat more worn and torn than expected. But they were young; they would heal fast. And besides, it was time to go to Ssserek and Ms. Lucie who waited, their patience wearing a bit thin, though they were pleased at the actions of the two.
Buttons ran to Ssserek, the magnificent, who was slowly recuperating. He took it all in, and in his turn, turned an eye to Ms. Lucie, who smiled and shook her head as though to say, “Well, here we go again.”
Buttons skidded to a stop in front of Ssserek who was rising to his usual imposing stance, his head erect and gazing directly over the crowd that was gathering on the beach.
“Gee, Ssserek, are you OK?” Buttons blurted out, and her worried appearance clearly demonstrated her concern.
Ssserek looked at her, aghast. He OK? He, the great Ssserek, worried, concerned? What did she think he was?
Then, he stopped and pondered the situation. The rats were in full retreat, the shell-clad denizens of the deep swamp and the hawks hurrying the rats on their unwelcome way. There had been a great loss of life and unexpected heroism from the most unlikely sources. Many had run, losing their heads completely; it had not been a pretty sight, but certainly it was not unexpected. Courage had been the standard for the day, and that was what had to be emphasized. Still, there were issues that had to be addressed, not the least being the activities of this small dog.
For his part, Rarebit sat quietly, slowly shaking his head. It was all too much. The disastrous attack of the rats, then the sudden loss of the small Scottish terrier was almost more than he could bear. Now, with her reappearance, even Ssserek was at a loss for words. Rarebit looked to Ssserek as the Earl quietly sat down behind Sally.
Ms. Lucie was proud of the animals sitting below her. She was thoroughly proud of the winged creatures, for their part had been essential, and much bravery and courage had been shown. She, too, looked at Ssserek, who had remained silent much longer than she would have anticipated. She turned to him also.
His voice was soft; still, it carried to all participants. His gaze was primarily for the two dogs. Sally was thoroughly fatigued, though she tried not to show it. Buttons was hurt. She limped, and her normally glossy coat was in tatters. She had fought fiercely, moreso for her size than possibly anyone there with the exception of Biff, the bear.
“First, what happened? Your unexpected loss nearly turned the table against the field and forest.”
His gaze was soft and turned fully on Buttons, who sat before him totally fatigued. He could guess, but there was little need for her head drooped again and again, each time she caught herself before falling completely down.
She looked at Ssserek, and turning saw her many friends waiting expectantly. She stood and spoke clearly, though occasionally a word was blurred with fatigue.
“I smelled him. Their leader. And I apologize, Ssserek. You told me not to go off by myself as I did, but I lost my temper. I knew where he was, coming from a different direction than we thought. He was not with the main body of rats which you fought here. He told me as he laughed at me. They were coming to encircle us, to get into the woods where they could establish themselves. I followed him, as you know. I could hear Biff’s bellowing behind me. I wasn’t needed here.”
Her head sagged, and she shivered as she recalled the sequence of events. Sally moved beside her, holding her up by leaning against her.
Buttons went on. “I followed him onto the tree trunks, and across the small bits of water to the grassy island. There we fought. I needed help, but Biff couldn’t come because there were so many against him. So I just went for him. He finally went into the water, and I slipped as I followed. He dove under the water, and I couldn’t see him. And then, he had me by the foot and began to drag me down.”
She stopped, and moved toward the shore where Biff waited. A water moccasin was curled to one side. Pausing before Biff, she lowered her head, and then she carefully licked one curving claw.
His eyes were large and dark as she said, “You were very brave, and I’m sorry I worried about you so I went too far out. I . . . I couldn’t help it. I had to.”
Biff snuffled, and then grinned his infectious best. His parents nodded briefly as they sat in the shadows of the great moss-covered trees. They were proud, of course, but other bears had participated and done marvelously well. But like their great friends to the north, they loved their solitude too well to be burdened with honors. Contentment covered them as the congregation began to break up.
“You were the brave one. I just had a good time pounding the water into froth and a few rats with it.”
His good nature could not have allowed him any criticism of the brave act he had witnessed, and he could only make light of his incredible feats. Biff chuckled, and shaking his head sent, water spraying in all directions. Nudging Delph with one large paw almost turned the alligator topsy-turvy, and then Delph had to laugh also.
Buttons stood nose-to-nose with Delph, the gator. His eyes almost crossed in his attempt to watch the small dog. Turning to Ssserek and Ms. Lucie, she continued her story.
“As I felt myself go under, suddenly the rat let go of my foot. Then, suddenly I was pushed to the top, almost sailing into the air as I sprawled on top of Delph. He had found me. As you know, he has a knack for finding rats, and . . .” She stopped to smile at the gator who lay beaming in the warmth of the praise.
“And a taste for them, as you know.” Delph gently belched, glancing in apology at Ssserek, whose expression never changed, though he would have liked to grin, himself.
“The rest, you know. Delph brought me here, knowing how upset you all were. I do apologize to you all.” She sighed as she sat abruptly, fatigue and battle wounds overcoming her remaining strength.
The Earl and his clan of wolves who had fought so hard came then to say their goodbyes. Others followed, both large and small creatures of the forest and field. The raccoons and otters, among her best friends, remained a bit longer, but then they, too, had to leave. Many were the birds who fluttered above her, whistling their praise and thanks. Then, they, too, were gone. The deer and the peccaries, large and small hogs, cats and bobcats, they too followed in their profuse thanks and praise. Milo munched placidly at the torn weeds, ignoring the rats floating about. Then, he, too, said his goodbyes and departed for the quiet and comfort of the grazing field. Many were the praises heaped on him as he moved past the other creatures. He smiled to himself. Only for Buttons. Her small tongue on his thick lower lip was all the thanks he required.
Then, at last, the beach was silent, only Ms. Lucie and Ssserek watching as the two dogs made their way to a comfortable tussock of dry grass. There, they would tend to their wounds and speak briefly of the day.
The large figure of Biff was only a dark blur against the forest, his vigil underway. Off-shore, the cigar-shaped figure of Delph could be seen cruising up and down slowly. No one would approach the beach from that direction.
Buttons groaned as she curled up against the warm body of Sally. “No more nightmares, Sally,” she murmured as the yellow moon rose over the Great Forest and Field.

The End