The Adventures of Button Broken Tail

The Raven of Elderwood

Even his own kind, the ravens shunned him. But in Elderwood, his cunning and cruel nature were envied. Here, in a distant and dark corner of the Great Swamp, the rats of Elderwood had found someone they could appreciate and admire. His promise of vengeance and blood had fired their imaginations. As he hobbled about on a crooked leg now badly healed from an old injury, a small black dog had almost caught him on the ground feasting on a recent kill. They would circle him as he spoke, their red eyes bright with hidden thoughts of blood and feasting. They could snicker at his injuries in their own dens, but never in his presence. They could take joy in his broken wing which he now used as a poor substitute for a crutch, but never look at it directly, for he was fast with his hard beak, and he used it often. They listened closely for his mind was keen, and like the rats, crowded with evil thoughts which he loved to repeat as he moved restlessly along the shore of the swamp, gazing long and evilly into the distance where he knew the Great Forest lay.
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Late into the nights, he and the rat leader would sit at the shoreline plotting just how they would gain surcease from the gnawing hatred which twisted their guts endlessly. They could only express their loathing in short evil words, spitting them out like bullets. On and on they would go, each taking turns repeating their hatred and how they would give anything to have her once again in their hands.
But how? How could they lure her to Elderwood where they could rip and tear her? What would bring the small black dog? Without her many friends. Yes. That was always the flaw in their evil plans. They could not wreak havoc upon her small black body in the presence of the alligator, or that horrible Ssserek, he the largest of rattlesnakes, swift and deadly even when badly outnumbered. Yes, and there were others, like the bear or the moose. She must be lured here without them.
Day and night, the raven crutched along the shore on one wing, the other weaving circles in the air. Gaunt from hunger because Elderwood provided little sustenance, even for the rats who would eat anything, but filled with hatred, the raven moved restlessly, twisting his head from side to side, seeking something he could not see, peering into each black hole, each bramble bush. He groped with his hard beak each nook and cranny along the twisted and torn trunks of the many trees so badly damaged in the great tornado. Each day, he would go through the same routine, his body seeking what his mind could not find.
Then, one day, it finally happened. A scrawny blackbird appeared in the distant skies making his way to Elderwood to report. What power the raven had over the blackbird was not known, only that the blackbird would report each day what was occurring in the Great Forest and Field.
The blackbird was small for one of his kind, normally only slightly smaller than the raven himself. He had little of the intelligence of his kind and was always seeking favors from larger and wiser birds. None listened to his begging requests. He was widely known to be craven, a cowardly nodding little thief who lived alone in the forest. When seen, it was usually by squirrels and birds who noted his presence at the edge of several other creatures quietly speaking among themselves. Then, he would be sat upon and chased away. There seemed to be little danger in him, but nonetheless, no one trusted him. Too often an egg or other food would be stolen in the night. Watchfulness was the word when he was around.
He flew directly toward the raven who waited impatiently at the shore. Landing several feet from the raven, the small blackbird nodded repeatedly, hopping toward the raven cautiously, carefully taking note of the raven’s temper.
His nose almost in the sand, the blackbird looked respectfully up at the raven. The blackbird had to twist his head so that he could view the raven with one eye. In turn, the raven had to twist his head to see well with his left eye for the right was partially opaque, and therefore, he was almost blind on that side. Anyone approaching from the right unexpectedly could expect an explosion of abuse, both verbal and physical.
He coughed carefully, before saying anything but “Good day, your greatness, good day.”
The raven sneered at the small bird who crouched before him. He despised the small creature, knowing him for the cowardly sneak that he was, but carefully refrained from making his thoughts too obvious. He needed to know what transpired within the forest, and only this creature could tell him.
When spoken, his words were soft as his beak was hard. “Well, my small one, what passes today in the forest? You have news, perhaps?”
The raven nodded slowly, giving the little sneak time to build his courage.
“Sir, sir,” said the blackbird. He then went on to describe in the most minute details the goings and comings of the many creatures in the forest.
The raven was fast becoming impatient for the news was the same. As yesterday, and the day before, and before that. The raven was suddenly jolted out of his reverie.
The small blackbird had continued to rattle off his many observations without a pause. “And the two are about . . .”
The raven cried aloud. “Caw, caw, caw,” he shouted to the sky, to the trees, and best of all, to King Rat who appeared rapidly at the obvious excitement of the raven. “Come, come my friends. I have it. I have it.”
Other rats peered out of the darkness of fallen trees. What could make the raven so excited? Others slowly crept onto the sand. They looked about, seeking any potential danger. There were none. Their eyes glittered as they looked at one another. This would mean no good for someone. Red eyes gleamed even brightly at the evil thought.
King Rat was old and almost hairless. His whiskers had never fully recovered from his encounter with the little dragon. He often saw her in his dreams. They were never good dreams. He tolerated the raven because they were so similar in their thoughts and in their hatred for the little black dog. The rat would tolerate anything if it meant an opportunity to even the score. He moved slowly toward the raven who was leaping awkwardly about in his frenzy of cawing. Never had the rat heard the raven so excited.
As the two evil creatures met on the shore, the raven whirled around and around until it seemed he must fall. He leaped toward King Rat.
“I have it. I have it. I know how we can get the little dog here without the great snake or alligator knowing.”
King Rat bared his fangs, saliva dripping from his mouth in his rising excitement. He rose to a sitting position, more than matching the large raven in height.
The two stared fixedly at one another. Each knew the other’s thoughts, the evil intent. The raven dropped his head, turning it so that he looked up at the large rat, much as the small blackbird reported.
Holding his head in that position, the raven hopped around and around the rat. Hop, hop, then several mincing small steps. Hop, he moved, sidling around and around.
“Hee, hee, hee. I’ll have her here. With your aid, my fine rat of rats. Yes, together, we’ll have her.”
He stopped abruptly, turning toward the small blackbird who had slowly moved closer to better hear. “Report their whereabouts tomorrow. Now, go. Do as you’re told.”
The small blackbird tumbled backwards in his anxiety to be out of reach of the raven and rushed into the sky as the raven’s beak narrowly missed a fluttering wing tip.
King Rat in turn glared at the nearest of minions, all of whom rushed back into the safety of the trees.
It took time, but finally their scheme was agreed on, and then they swiftly put into place each of the components. Only then did the two cease their restless movement up and down the shore as they reviewed each step which would bring about the capture of Buttons who was, at that moment, moving slowly through the Great Field.
Sally, the beagle was at her side as they moved toward their respective homes. Evening was approaching, and it had been a fun day. With Iggy, they had gone to the River Running to watch the otters play. Only they, of the many creatures of forest and field, had the freedom to approach and enter the village along the river where the dens of otters were to be found.
It was always the same. A tumultuous welcome and then playtime. First, with the youngest who rapidly lost interest or tired easily. Then, with Dodger, the otter, they would head for the slides and a good swim in the river.
Buttons would place herself at one side to better view the fun because she never swam unless Delph, the alligator was present. He wasn’t present today, much to the relief of the otters. While they greatly appreciated his abilities in the water, they were more than wary of his great mouth and his endless appetite.
Finally, even the otters were exhausted from all of the fun. Buttons’s ribs ached from all of the laughter and the delight of watching Iggy trying to ride on the back of Dodger. For all of his agility in the water, Dodger kept sliding from beneath Iggy who would fall with great vigor and much splashing into the water. His pretense at drowning was hilarious, and finally one of the younger otters would porpoise out and then beneath the floundering ground squirrel. Together, they would tear across the river to deliver the laughing and a very wet Iggy to Buttons who would then be thoroughly doused with water as Iggy shook himself.
Only later as the two dogs returned home did their thoughts turn to a more serious matter. They had met Ssserek earlier as they moved toward the river. The great serpent greeted them with his usual good humor, but he was clearly on his way and would not tarry more than the moment it took to tell the two dogs. Word had come to him that a small serpent clan at the distant northern edge of the Great Field was in danger from a new construction company. He knew the field and forest were off-limits to construction, the Great Swamp and its surrounding forest and field were part of a greater wildlife preserve. Still, the small bird that brought the message insisted that the distant serpents required his presence. He would see himself.
Buttons and Sally both immediately agreed to go with him, but he refused their aid. This was a serpent matter, and besides, their presence at home was required. They had sighed at his refusal, but knew he would have it his way. Individual serpents they knew and loved, but in the matter of clan business, they recognized the strong ties that existed between one serpent and his clan. For Ssserek, all clans mattered. He was gone before either dog had had a good opportunity to question him further.
The next day, they were off to the swamp, romping freely along the swamp’s edge looking for Delph, the alligator. He was always ready for fun and provided excellent transportation around the swamp. With him, there could be no danger, and many shy animals who would otherwise disappear instantly at the first sight of any stranger, or the alligator alone, waited to greet the two dogs. Then Buttons and Sally would have much fun in quizzing the many small creatures they would meet in a day’s time.
But Delph was nowhere to be found. No tracks. Nothing. Only later in the day did a small blackbird swoop down to stand in front of them. Nodding his head up and down, he reassured that he meant no harm.
Both dogs laughed politely. One small blackbird could hardly prove any danger.
Buttons smiled as she asked, “And, what can we do for you, small friend?”
The blackbird nodded again and again, twisting his head to view them with one eye and then the other.
“Well, you see. I, uh, I saw you seeking something along the shore. When I thought of it, I recalled seeing you in the company of that creature . . . I mean . . . the alligator. He always seems to be with you.”
“Yes,” replied Sally. “We were seeking him. He’s a very good friend.”
The blackbird coughed gently as he watched the two. Such silly creatures. Surely, these two could hardly be what the magnificent, and terribly frightful, raven was after. After all, how could these two injure the raven, much less the rats. Well, he would say what he been told to say and be off to report.
“Well, you see, I saw the alligator swimming northward this morning. He seemed to be hurrying, so of course, I didn’t detain him. He said he would be back in several days since it is a long journey.”
“Darn,” blurted out Sally. “Bet he’s off to be with Ssserek.”
The small blackbird grinned to himself. Yes, they would believe anything. Such simpletons. He bobbed several more times and then begged to depart, which he promptly did before more questions could be asked.
“Yeah,” muttered Buttons. “Darn, he is right. Just wait until they get back. Oh, well. Let’s go see how the groundhogs are doing.”
“Good idea,” responded the beagle. “We haven’t been there in a long time.”
Both the young dogs had a good day and parted that afternoon earlier than usual because Buttons was due for her monthly grooming session at the local grooming parlor, one of her favorite places-. She never missed it, and early the next morning would be out rolling freely in the dirt and bush. Only when she was thoroughly covered would she sit up, grinning at the thought of her boy’s first words when she returned. Sally always went along with the gag. It was, after all, a good one.
Thus, it was on the following morning when Buttons was at her favorite spot for rolling and scratching her back. To and fro she wiggled, enjoying every moment. She had a care for nothing else. It felt so good.
“Hmmm . . . hmmmm,” she hummed to herself. Finally she sat up and looked around. Strange. No Sally. She barked briefly, expecting an immediate answer from close by. No answer.
Buttons began to walk back and forth, casting about for any sign of her best friend. But there were no footprints. No odors in the morning breezes. Nothing.
She barked louder. She couldn’t bugle like Sally, and her voice would not carry very far. Well, she would go looking. With that thought, Buttons was off.
First, around the Great Field. That took time. Then, toward the river. More time. By noon, Buttons was tired and had to rest. It was very quiet. The breeze had stopped, and she would enter the forest quickly to take advantage of the cool shade. Having rested a short time, she was soon off, crossing the forest using their favorite paths. No sigh.
Buttons stopped for another brief rest. Strange. How very strange. It was not like Sally, who was punctuality itself. Buttons was the one usually guilty of forgetting meeting times. Easily, distraction went with her youth. But not with the serious Sally. An unusual feeling crawled slowly up her back.
Buttons quickly glanced about. Getting the shakes already. But something was wrong. She hurried on, more often glancing carefully around. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Dark shadows appeared in her mind, tumbling one after the other, scrambling for something to grab. But there was nothing to hold on to. Just dark shadows without substance.
She reached the swamp’s edge and glanced at both directions. None of her usual friends. Delph. She missed him most of all. Now, she needed him badly.
She sniffed the air. There was something there now. Very faint. And distant. She turned in that direction and was off, running with her quick, short strides that covered ground remarkably fast.
The odor was steadily growing stronger. But it was all wrong. Sally, but not Sally. Salty, too.
She rounded a small hummock of long grass. There it was. Very close now. She skidded to a stop, a ridge of hair involuntarily rising along her spine. She could see discoloration on the grass. And, there was a spotchy patch on the sand.
She moved forward, carefully examining her surroundings. No one there now. She put her nose to blotch on the sand. Blood! Blood! That’s what was wrong. Sally, and yet, not Sally. Not as Buttons knew her.
But it was Sally’s blood, all right. No doubt. Too much. She had to be in grave danger. Buttons stopped, backtracking slowly. On the leaves rising before her. Another’s blood. Rat blood. “Rats,” her brain shouted.
“Oh, you ninny. Of course, only they would attack Sally.” She scanned the ground more closely. The prints were everywhere, now that she was using her brain. Maybe not many. But more than enough for the small beagle, no matter how she might have fought. Too quick for her to bugle or call out.
Well, they would have to deal with Buttons now. Buttons raised her head and scanned the far shore of the swamp only vaguely to be seen in the rising mists. There! There! She had to be there. Buttons could and would follow.
No Ssserek. No Delph. Well, she could do it on her own. The difficulty would be great, but she would go now. The blood made the situation much more immediate and far more dangerous. So be it.
Buttons turned, and, putting her nose down so she could more easily follow the trail, left the scene of the battle which had put Sally in the clutches of the rats.
She could not move as swiftly as she would have liked, but it was sure this way. She made steady headway, glancing at the small peninsula that jutted out into the swamp. Yes. Probably there, and from there, trees and tussocks of grass. She would make it.
She did not hear them approaching, but two figures suddenly appeared out of nowhere and were immediately at her sides. She stopped and whirled to meet the newest danger.
Buttons grunted and sat. “Oh, it’s you two.”
Toby, the bobcat grinned at her apparent annoyance and butted Cross-eye, the tomcat who stood next to him. Cross-eye sidled up to Buttons and rubbed against her shoulder.
“Oorrrrh,” was his best purr, a rough, grumbling sound with which he irritated Buttons no end.
“Oh, cut it out you two knot heads. Just what are you up to now?” She stood and shoved Cross-eye away.
Although she had helped to raise him, he brought back dark memories which she did not like to remember. But, they loved one another in their own way, though neither would ever admit it.
Cross-eye had grown into a fine and large tomcat who found a natural ally in the bobcat with whom he roamed the forest and field at all hours of the day or night.
The males grinned at one another as Toby answered. “We met Ssserek on his way north. He was angry but calmed when he saw us. He looked us over, only as he can, and then said, ‘You two will find Buttons and go wherever she goes. Understood?’”
“Well, he just up and left us standing there. No explanations or anything else.”
Cross-eye added, “And just what are you doing?” He grinned even more widely because he knew that splutter and carry on as she might, she would not say no to their presence.
“Well, come on, twits!”

She turned and was off and running, her nose close to the ground. She did not hesitate when the pencil of a peninsula appeared before them. She turned and raced out along its irregular surface, studded as it was with hummocks of grass, brush, small broken trees, and other impediments. The two cats easily matched her best stride and simply went over what she had to maneuver around.
The scent of fresh blood was in Buttons’s nose. It was Sally’s. Plenty had been spilled, as was obvious to both cats who frowned more and more as they progressed.
They quickly reached the end of the small peninsula, and Buttons rested for a moment as she contemplated the difficulties which lay ahead. Just how she could spot small, partially or completely submerged dangers, she didn’t know.
Just then, from overhead came a loud and crackling “Caw, caw, caw. Wait. Buttons. Hold up.”
All three looked up in time to see a very large crow settling to a limb of an old dead tree. It was JW—J. Wellington Blackbird, that is. He was a large and very officious bird who was raucous at his best, speaking in loud and harsh tones. This time it was different as he glanced about and closely peered at the two cats. On more than one occasion, only his great vigilance had saved feathers from their sharp caresses. Now, he spoke in quiet tones.
“Careful, Buttons. Neither of the cats can see what I can from the air. Haste is necessary, but we must be wary. Very careful;they do awful things to Sally.”
Buttons shuddered as she remembered the rats and their cruelty.
Cross-eye spoke up. “OK, JW. Just what do we have to do? And relax. You’ve nothing to fear from us. Right?” He looked carefully at Toby, whose eyes had narrowed, only the slits of his yellow pupils shining.
“Not to worry, JW But tell us. What’s going on? That the rats have Sally, we already know. And it’s all too obvious the blood-letting is a trap.”
“And so it is,” JW responded. “They had a very neat trap, several of the largest simply smashing her into the sand as they slashed her hide. Then away. The same path you’re on now.”
“And just how do you know all of this?,” Buttons queried.
“A little bird told me. A very little blackbird. The same who sent Ssserek and Delph on their mission north.” He spoke harshly as he recalled the questioning of the rats’ small tattletale.
“Does Ssserek know? Or Delph?” Buttons spoke anxiously now. Their mission was terribly laden with danger without them.
JW replied, “I have sent for them. But even if they know now, they couldn’t reach us in time.”
Both cats groaned inwardly. Like Buttons, they knew what lay ahead now. It would be dangerous, indeed, at the very best.
“Not to fear, there’s always hope and others.” JW spoke in his boldest and harshest tones. He took to the air before further questions could be asked.
Buttons frowned, thinking deeply to herself. Fortunate for them that the large blackbird had seen what he had and acted as he did. Maybe Ssserek and Delph would make it, maybe not. She moved forward without hesitation. So it would be.
Toby frowned as he followed. The water held no terror for him.
Cross-eye followed the bobcat readily. He could swim when he had to, and together they could take care of Buttons. But as he moved forward behind Toby, he couldn’t help but think. “But, just what did he mean, ‘and others’?”
As they moved across tussocks of grass, small islands just the water’s surface, and fallen trees, each struggled with their own thoughts. An attack must come. But where? When? How many rats?
Buttons had to fight not only the difficult passage, but her fear for her close friends who climbed and swam beside her, and particularly for Sally who was now certainly being tormented by the vicious rats. They could take infinite time in their tortures, and certainly would be waiting for Buttons’s arrival.
She started to sigh, but swallowed warm swamp water, and in it the sweet taste of Sally. She coughed and hacked wretchedly as she fought to clear her mouth and throat.
Toby closed beside her. “Easy, Buttons, old girl. We’ll get you there in fine shape.”
Buttons glared at him as he winked broadly at her. “Sure you will, old buddy, but what shape will we leave in?”
“Not to worry, Buttons, mom. You couldn’t possibly look any worse than you do now.”
Buttons would have taken a bite out of the cross-eyed cat could she have reached him. But, indeed, he was at least partially right. She was thoroughly soaked. To her once fine coat clung burrs and bugs of various colors. Grass and long leaves clung to her, trailing behind and leaving a trail of mud which clouded the water.
Ahead, JW urged them on in soft tones as he weaved side to side, seeking the hidden trail. Sighting a submerged log, or island of grass, he would dip and hover over it until the three arrived, then on again, peering, dipping, seeking. Now and again, he would rise above tree level and look intently toward their goal. No signs of them yet. But when? He, too, fretted, something a blackbird seldom did.
The stench of the swamp filled Buttons’s nose. It was becoming worse as they advanced. Just the odor alone would be enough now. She dripped muck and bugs as her sides heaved while they rested atop the roots of a long, dead tree. Even Cross-eye and Toby were beginning to show their weariness. Making sure Buttons had sure footing was difficult for the two cats, and the strength and stamina it required was indeed great. Almost too much, but they would never admit it.
Deep in thought, the raven smiled to himself as he moved awkwardly along the shore. Indeed, the trail was long and difficult. Upon that rested much of his plan. Surely, the little black dog would come with friends. It would be so much easier if they were very tired after their long journey.
JW sailed into sight. Cawing with relief he shouted, “Just ahead. Elderwood. Be careful. The rats are evil, the raven even more so. He is the cleverest of the bad lot.”
Toby grinned, white fangs gleaming through a face covered with mud and the floating debris of the swamp. “Not to worry, old fellow. We know how to deal with such as them.”
JW would have huffed and fluffed his feathers but knew better. The two cats would need all of the courage they could muster. He sailed on ahead, worry fogging his mind. The danger was great, and something was wrong. Something terrible was wrong, but he put no word to it.
The three moved cautiously forward. A shelf of soft muck and rock greeted them and they moved on more easily. Several dead logs rose out of the increasingly firm footing. Smaller stumps stood like sentinels before the logs. They were known as the fangs of Elderwood, and like the needle-sharp fangs of rats, they barred easy access to the nearest firm land.
Toby and Cross-eye moved easily along the fangs, seeking an avenue through them. Buttons yelped softly as she wallowed along the row of teeth. “Over here, you two. Here’s a place.”
The opening stood near the large logs which jutted out like leaning pylons, funneling all traffic toward the single opening. Buttons moved through before either cat could say anything. Toby surged forward, his throat suddenly very tight as the small figure of Buttons disappeared from view. Cross-eye was not far behind when the cry of Buttons came to their ears.
Both swam rather than plow through the muddy bottom. Sounds of battle were clear. Both cats had their ears laid back along their heads, their eyes seeking out the enemy. As they emerged into the small lagoon behind the fangs, rats could be seen diving from the large logs which lay around, swimming in small clusters toward Buttons and the three large rats who were engaging her from several directions.
Buttons had already dispatched one rat, to the amazement of the other attackers. Even in the water which hindered her movements, she had immediately attacked. The first to reach her paid the price of pride. She had surged out of the water to come down on top. Grabbing him by the neck, she had shaken him once and tossed him aside, neck broken, as she turned to face the others.
Toby was a bit faster than Cross-eye, and struck the attacking rats from the side. His broad paws gripped the water easily, and his claws were lethal with each stroke. Cross-eye, in his anger, simply grabbed flank, shoulder, side. He cared not one bit. The result was the same, a squalling rat who soon floated among his other dead companions.
As fast as the attack had come, it was over as quickly.
The three stood on the firmer ground of the lagoon. No live rat was to be seen. The logs lay about, but no enemy stood upon them. Nothing was visible on the shore. No! There was something, a dark mound.

Shaking involuntarily, Buttons moved quickly ahead, ignoring the warning hiss of Cross-eye. Toby backed carefully toward the shore, ever keeping his eyes on the logs and the fangs behind them. Each had sustained bites, and small ragged lines of blood followed them in.
Buttons cried out as she rose from the water. The dark figure had to be Sally, but something dreadful was wrong. The small Scottie hastened forward to be with her best friend.
The two cats shivered also. Nothing to be seen, no sounds. Yes, that was it. Nothing was to be heard. Even the wind had ceased.
Buttons rapidly approached her best friend and stumbled as she viewed the terrible scene before her.
Sally lay on her side. Instead of brown and black mixed with white, there was only blood, trickling in many small streams from many rips and fang marks to clot in the sand, forming a black ring of approaching death around her. She was pinned to the ground by many pieces of rope to stakes driven into the sand. They criss-crossed her body in an obscene pattern. Only a torn ear moved.
As Buttons moaned deeply in her throat at her friend’s plight, an eyelid fluttered and a blood-filled eye opened, wandering, trying to seek the source of the moan.
A croaking sound came from Sally. But more she could not do. She was too weak to move. Her limps pinioned as they were could do nothing. Each toe had been wrapped individually, increasing the pain if she tried to move.
Buttons howled in anger. She rose on her toes and shouted her defiance at the dark and torn trees of Elderwood.
Sally was dying even as Buttons stood there. She could not free Sally in time to do anything. A terrible resolve covered her mind like a soggy blanket. She could not think. She just wanted to kill. Rats. And more rats. And more.
Toby and Cross-eye had quickly come to Buttons’s side. But as they stood beside her facing the shadows of Elderwood, JW’s cry was heard. Neither moved, fixed like marble statues. They waited and listened.
JW cawed loudly from a perch high on an old tree standing starkly and alone at the edge of the swamp. “More come. Beware.”
He fanned his wings and swept down on a group of fallen trees. From the deep darkness beneath it, a large cluster of rats issued forth, their eyes glittering with hatred and blood lust. They moved carefully, circling to the cats’ right. JW cried out as he swept toward another fallen cluster of trees.
As he did so, the raven swept awkwardly down from a perch unseen. His flight was erratic, and JW did not see the coming attack, but Buttons did. She rose on her rear legs and yipped a short call. JW wheeled aside as the raven crashed into him.
Screaming hatred on all animal-kind, the raven struck as hard as he could. It was too late. JW’s sharp turn avoided the full impact, but both birds struggled as they locked claws and pecked at one another. Their fall brought them crashing to the ground. The raven shrieked in anger and pain as his bad leg once again crumpled under him.
JW struggled to his feet as several rats rushed him, only to be met head-on by a furious small black dog who literally threw herself into them, allowing JW to rise swiftly above the battle. He would be short work for anyone of the rats.



Buttons had her mouth full as she snapped and slashed at the rats who had become utterly confused by her sudden and swift onslaught. Still, they did great damage as they were dispatched one by one.
Cross-eye and Toby, too, were meeting the cluster of large rats who had fanned out and attacked from several sides at the same time. But the rats underrated their opponents. With the small dog they had a chance. But these were felines, fighting mad felines who knew their opponent and took joy in the slaughter they reeked upon the rats. Toby slashed right and left as was his style, tearing life from the braver and more foolish who dared come within reach of his lethal claws. Cross-eye fought as he always did, leaping right and left, then in and out. His fangs found their mark, and each time, a rat died. His face was splattered with blood, some of it his own, several rats having bitten him as they died.
With the last of the group of rats dead, they both breathed rapidly and deeply. It had been difficult, but they looked for Buttons who sat among a smaller cluster of rats, the last in the throes of breathing his last. She, too, was panting hard, taking deep gulps of badly needed air.
The two cats rapidly closed around her, just in time as another group of rats slowly stepped from beneath a log leaning against another. They formed a larger bunch and approached slowly, grinning and nudging one another. Then, they separated and rushed in smaller groups of two and three with seconds between each attack.
A shrill whistle coordinated the attacks, which brought great distress upon their enemies who could only meet one small group before having to turn and face another. As the last rat fell, Cross-eye, too, fell to one side, his right rear leg having been bitten badly. His blunt features were masked in clotted blood. Buttons simply sat, panting in harsh, sharp intakes of breath. Her sides heaved with the severe exertion. Toby stood, blood slowly dribbling from a torn ear. If he fell, it would be the last of them, for his stamina was the greatest of all.
Buttons faced toward the direction from which the whistle had come. She stepped forward, a grin slowly forming as she glared with hatred on King Rat as he stepped into full view for the first time.
King Rat twirled a stubby whisker as he mockingly bowed. He spoke softly, “Welcome, my young friend. It is well you brought support, inadequate though it is. My fellows need their exercise.”
Buttons coughed briefly and blew blood from her lips. “Rats,” was all she said, much to the joy of Toby and Cross-eye.
Toby couldn’t help join the repartee, grim as it was. “We, too, seemed to have need of the exercise. Cross-eye is breathing a bit harder than usual. “Fine fellows, yours.”
Cross-eye’s words were as blunt as his snout. “Well, my short-whiskered friend, they at least died well. Will you do the same?”
King Rat was not to be outdone. He watched as the raven joined him. “Our friend dog suffered overly long, or your attack would have been more successful. Remember that when you,” he nodded to the raven, “peck her eyes out.”
The raven glared and then peered sideways. Another group of rats were approaching from the far left, matching the strides of another group who approached from the right.
The raven spoke directly to the three before him. “Well, let us see how bravely you speak in a few moments. We’ll see if you can die as slowly as the small beagle yonder. She fought bravely also. To no avail, as you will come to witness for yourselves.”
Toby looked about, and his voice shook slightly as he whispered, “I believe we face death as yon bird-brain states.”
And then, to the cats’ amazement, Buttons simply wheeled and returned to sit in front of her two feline champions. She began to lick a bloody paw, totally ignoring the raven and Rat King who looked on incredulously.
Raven glared at King Rat. “What is she up to? You know her better than I do.”
Rat King was about to answer. But he repressed the dark thoughts which were assailing his mind. “No, no,” he thought. “Not again, never again.”
Instead, he shrieked in bursting anger, his eyes almost popping from his furious features. “Attack! Attack! But do not kill them. We will have them thrust up like the other. Attack, I say.”
This time, the battle was brief and furious. Soon, Buttons and the two felines were sitting in utter exhaustion. Even the rats, many of whom still lived, had backed off, forming small clusters of equally tired rats. With heads down, their eyes still glittered with anger and hatred.
The shrill voice of King Rat was to be heard in the background, exhorting his minions on. “Attack, I say. Soon, they will be ours to do with as we wish.”
The raven hopped up and down awkwardly, his harsh voice sounding above even the high-pitched tones of King Rat. “I told you we could do it. See! I told you. She’s ours now. Nothing can interfere.” He cawed loudly and repeatedly, his voice carrying across the swamp.
Carrying to several figures who approached as swiftly as their limbs could carry them. Two by air, two by water.
Buttons began to wash her paw again, abruptly stopping the exhortations of King Rat and the raven. King Rat looked about. He scanned the swamp, peered long at the sky. No. Nothing to be seen. As he dipped his head to better view the small dog, she raised her head. Slowly, very slowly she winked.
Turning to her companions who sat, exhausted beyond belief, she smiled through her bloodied features. “Come,” she said. “Tired, yes, but now it’s time for us to attack.”
Cross-eye looked at Toby who could only stare back at his feline friend. Toby could only shrug as Cross-eye went on, “She’s crazy, but she’ll have her way, one way or the other. Come on, friend, Toby. We can only die.”
Cross-eye slowly raised himself on three legs, and slowly dragging his right hind leg, he staggered after Buttons who had gone to stand before Sally.
Toby sighed. “Just too bloody much.”
Cross-eye looked back and grinned. Whether the bobcat meant the day or the Scottie wasn’t clear. But did it matter?
Buttons stood over the barely conscious beagle. Congealed blood was all around. The blood that could run, ran more slowly. Well, they would go together. The small Scottie whirled, and stepped forward, moving between Cross-eye and Toby.
The rats were beginning to group together, forming three large masses. From their attack, no one would emerge alive. Nothing King Rat said made any difference. This time they would do it the old way. Bloody and slowly, limb by limb. Grim satisfaction to those who lived, no honor to those who died. That was the rat way of killing. They moved to meet the advancing small black dog.
Then, it happened. A tiny shrill voice came from afar. King Rat and raven were frozen in their steps as they scanned the sky together, fear gripping evil hearts that suddenly pumped with an uncontrollable urge to run.
They did so, rapidly and with no thought for their fellows, as a brown figure appeared over the trees, steeply turning in a heart-wrenching second. It was the dragon. There could be no doubt of that. The figure of Iggy clung to her neck as before, one small fist raised in defiance.
As the small dragon passed beneath a limb of a dead cottonwood tree, Iggy leaped to a large branch, racing along it to better view the havoc as Sara blew great clouds of flame and smoke down upon the milling crowd of rats.
Buttons could do no more, sinking in quiet relief to the sand beside Sally. Toby and the hobbling Cross-eye could and did, attacking with new vigor any rat who fled from beneath the flames. A scorched spot or two made no difference. This was their time.
Sara banked and turned flaming again and again until only a few rats remained. Quickly, she settled to the bloodied sand and rapidly approached Buttons, who rose, one limb at a time, to greet her great friend, Sarandra, Princess of the High Reaches.
“Sara, Sara,” was all she could say as she looked anxiously at Sally whom Sara was quickly examining.
Sara’s eyes were wide with wonder and fear. “Buttons, please, you must understand. I may be too late. I will do what must be done. You finish here.”
With those few words, the small dragon quickly snipped the many lines that crossed the bloody body of the beagle. Sara then gently took Sally into her arms and, spreading her wings, quickly mounted into the sky. Buttons could only sit one more time, watching Sara until she disappeared into vault of blue above her.

The heroic measures of the young dragon could not be witnessed by those fighting on the sand below. Sally was only partially conscious, pain filling every muscle and nerve ending. The rats had worked slowly once they had the beagle pinned to the sand. A nip here, a tear there, whispers everywhere. It had been terrifying, and she could only struggle, but to no avail. They had sat back to watch her slowly bleed to death and await her friends in keen anticipation. But of these things she couldn’t think. Too much pain, even in the kind and gentle hands of Sara.
Sara rose higher and higher in the air as she held the beagle closely, but as she mounted the azure blue of the afternoon’s sky, she could feel Sally beginning to shiver. But it had to be done. The rips and tears of Sally’s skin were too terrible even for the healing cleansing of Sara’s tongue. Somehow, the dragon must first slow the terrible bleeding, and then take on each wound individually.
Higher, the dragon climbed. Sally bled, but more and more slowly as the cold became more and more bitter, biting at the ragged wounds like so many sharp shards of ice. Sara knew it would be close. Could Sally hang onto life a few moments longer, or must she succumb to both the cold and the many wounds?
Sara began to lick one small wound after another as she climbed steadily into the sky. Geese can sail many thousands of feet into the sky on their long treks in the fall and spring, even an eagle would not tempt such heights without good cause. Sara’s limit was unknown. It did not matter for she would die before giving up. She never ceased in her cleansing of the many wounds as her wings beat steadily, lifting her and her burden upward.
As Sally shivered and suffered, her blood began to congeal. The flow slowed and then ceased. Only then did Sara began to cleanse the larger wounds as she leveled off and began to slowly wheel and turn, her concentration solely upon the small dog which she held gently but firmly to her warm dragon’s body.
Sally’s healing did not occur rapidly, but it came. Only then did the dragon turned to look groundward. Her vision was extraordinary as were all her senses. As she scanned the distant earth, she knew matters had progressed rapidly. But to what end, she could not tell.
Sara, sovereign of the High Reaches, wanted desperately to join her friends on the beach, but knew she could not. Turning away, she wheeled and head west. Holding Sally in crook of her left arm, she swiped at something in her right eye. She snorted. Too old for such things. She hurried on. Sally had be to perfectly safe first, and then the young dragon would join Buttons and her protectors. To save or avenge, Sara did not know. But she would be there in time?
As Toby and Cross-eye attacked the lone survivors among the rats, the shrill voice of Iggy could be heard urging them on. Back and forth he bounced, danced, and weaved his way in leaps and turns, his joy at seeing his friends alive almost too much.
“Enjoy it while you can, my small one,” came a soft, loathing voice. “You will not live much longer.”
Iggy jumped a good three feet toward the end of the limb as he whirled to face the hated voice. It was a rat, neither large nor too small. One that was able to climb trees with his clever paws. The rat was smiling as he inched forward, his eyes never leaving the face of Iggy who was rapidly scanning his surroundings.
No. No other limb close enough to be reached even with his best leap. He and Sara had forgotten to consider this possibility as they approached Elderwood. Well, Iggy could solve it.
And, he did. He slowly backed up. Back and back. Each step taken slowly, carefully, his paws reaching for the limb beneath him. Soon, there was scarcely limb enough to grip. At that point, he stopped. He looked the rat directly in the face.
“Well, friend rat. We’re at rope’s, uh, make that limb’s end.”
The rat stopped scant inches from the small ground squirrel. “So? What do you do now?” He grinned wickedly, good humor getting the best of his evil mind.
Iggy grinned in return. “This, my short-lived friend. If I go, we go together.”
With that Iggy bent and leaped into the air as high as he could. Up and then down, cleanly landing on the whipping branch. It bent, down, and down, until with a loud snap, it broke. Just behind the rat who shrieked as his footing disappeared from beneath him. Down and down they went, two small figures tumbling over and over as they fell.
The rat landed with a solid thud on a long, dead, and very hard tree trunk. Not even a second later, Iggy landed. But not with a solid thud of flesh on wood, but flesh on flesh.
Iggy leaped to his feet in complete surprise. Turning, he found himself facing an angry and very sore King Rat who was slowly rising. His back ached abominably. He glared at the small squirrel.
The insouciant Iggy was not one to be beaten in a verbal punch. “Well, if it isn’t old friend, King Rat. You look terrible.” Iggy stepped forward to better examine the surprised rat. “Hmmm, even your whiskers look awful. Burnt, I’d say. Simply stubs of their former grandeur, wouldn’t you say?”
King Rat could only splutter. Words were not enough. A shriek rose to his lips, and then he pounced. Forgotten was escape. Forgotten were the dogs. Gone were even the felines whose caterwauling could be heard throughout Elderwood. Their voices ceased even as King Rat landed on the spot Iggy once occupied.
Then it became a race. Iggy’s deft gymnastics among the fallen trees and the scrambling shrieks of King Rat who could only see the rump of the little beast who had brought the disastrous flaming of his grand whiskers down upon the unsuspecting Rat King.
As King Rat raced, awkwardly albeit, after Iggy, Buttons rose instantly from her reverie and raced toward the deep and forbidding portions of the dead and dying Elderwood.
Iggy was enjoying himself. No rat could catch him in this place. Too many limbs, too many logs to leap and race about. This was a game he and Buttons often played. Then, as he leaped for another log, it happened. He slipped, falling heavily to the earth below. He quickly rolled over for the rat would be upon him. It was too late.
King Rat stood at Iggy’s feet. His eyes glittered with hatred, the lust of killing this small creature clouded his mind. Then, as Iggy half-sat up and smiled, King Rat fearfully glanced around. It was too late. A small black figure hit him solidly in the side. The rat felt sharp teeth around his neck, and then he remembered nothing, ever more.
Iggy clambered to his feet. “Wow, took you long enough. Thought you’d never make it.”
He ducked as Toby’s broad paw appeared out of the dark shadows. Iggy bounced quickly to the top of the nearest log. “Hey, easy, p-ssycat. You might have struck me.”
As Toby settled for a leap, Iggy rapidly turned, only to find himself face to face with Cross-eye, whose eyes were clearly the most disconcerting set of eyes in the forest and field.
“Uh, good day, Cross-eye. You wouldn’t mind, perhaps, if we discussed this further. After all, Buttons here . . .” he turned to glance down at his friend who was slowly sagging to the ground, “uh well, she appears somewhat frayed around the edges.”
Cross-eye and Toby quickly forgot the small squirrel in their fear for Buttons. She was indeed beginning to wilt. Exhaustion, fear for Sally . . . .
All three with one thought turned and made for the swamp’s shore. What had happened? Sara had disappeared so fast. And then there was the fight to finish. Buttons had done what she had always done when she heard Iggy’s voice as he fell. She knew what he would do. But, Sara? What had happened there?
As the three moved through the sand, Delph suddenly emerged from the swamp, a living torpedo of death roaring challenge upon challenge upon the inhabitants of Elderwood. He skidded to a halt as he viewed the three, with Iggy lagging behind. At least Iggy was glad to see him because as Delph burst into view, the small squirrel immediately raced for him, taking refuge between the eye knobs of the alligator who was pleased by the greeting.
Toby and Buttons could only glance at one another and shrug. Cross-eye grinned. His pleasure was real for he loved the irrepressible squirrel in his own way. Iggy had always been with him when he was a kitten. For that, the cat would even take on his best friend, Toby. Both knew it would never be necessary.
Buttons grunted once again. The others turned to see who was approaching now. Ssserek moved into view and slithered up the sand more leisurely. He was saddened by what he saw, but he never mentioned his fears for each of them, or the many doubts that had assailed his mind as he moved north. Clearly, the two felines had managed. Best of all, the squirrel, that tiny morsel of a squirrel, that maddening creature, that . . . somehow, he had done the impossible, reaching Sara, the smallest of dragons and friend to them all.
The rattlesnake smiled broadly. Only those who truly knew him could face that smile and actually greet the snake with genuine warmth in their voices.
Iggy leaped from Delph’s shoulders and raced to face Ssserek. “Wow, Ssserek, you should have seen it. The greatest battle I’ve ever seen. These guys were fantastic.” Then, his head dropped. “But, I . . . I don’t know about Sally. Sara took her up until . . . until even I couldn’t see her.”
Buttons simply sat and watched, never taking her eyes from the snake’s face. With his appearance, doubt and fears had disappeared. Still, she couldn’t completely dissipate the gnawing she felt deep in her body.
“Then listen my young friends. Listen well.”
He looked down on the small black dog as Delph approached, laying his head so that his nose just touched Buttons’s hind quarters. Iggy and the other two gathered about. Even JW, whose presence had been ignored throughout the fight, settled to the sand, his eyes wide with amazement. Of the relationship between snake and dog, he, like every inhabitant of the forest, knew, but never believed. From that time on, he would speak of it with wonder, and, for a crow, in soft tones.
“Delph and I met less than half of the way to our northern destination. We naturally compared notes, and as you will have guessed, the raven’s small minion of a cowardly blackbird had told us similar but differing tales. They did indeed got our attention, but we embarked reluctantly. Only slightly later, one of J. Wellington Crow’s friends caught us and told us the real truth.”
JW smiled and nodded with great pleasure, but could only nod his agreement. “Harumph,” he whispered. “Throat’s sore from yelling alarms! You do see?” He gazed down upon Buttons who smiled happily.
She rose slowly, her muscles aching badly from the fighting. She approached the large crow who slowly backed away, his eyes wide with amazement as Buttons stopped before him. Rising to a sitting position, she simply licked his beak once and returned to her friends. She smiled once again, with all of her companions joining in. “I understand, JW. We understand.”
The two felines would have joined JW, but Ssserek grunted. The two stopped immediately. As they looked at Ssserek, they both realized that JW had, indeed, almost more than he could tolerate. The excitement of the battle, Buttons, the bleeding and dying Sally, Sara, a dragon of all things, and two creatures such as Cross-eye and Toby, whose fights and roaming mischief within the Great Forest were already lengendary at their young ages. No! Those two he would best keep at a great distance.
Instead, Toby and Cross-eye simply nodded. “Our many thanks, great crow. You have done us, and Buttons, a great service this day. Many thanks.”
As for JW, this was something indeed to crow over for many a year. And, to the dismay of his many friends, he did indeed do just that.
Ssserek had waited patiently as Buttons and the cats showed their appreciation. It was only fit that they do so. Delph was not so sure. Besides, he wanted to hear all of the story. He grumbled mightily, nudging Iggy who happened to be leaning against his snout into a rolling ball of mud, muck, and leaves.
Iggy leaped to his feet when Ssserek suddenly dropped his head to be on eyelevel with Iggy. Ssserek smiled, as Iggy shuddered, “Well, you see, we immediately realized the significance of what the small blackbird had reported and returned as quickly as we could. You, Iggy, can tell us what happened next. Right?”
Looking Ssserek directly in the eye at close range was not what Iggy would have preferred. He could only stutter. “Well, well, you see. Ah, gee whiz, Ssserek. You know, I don’t know how I did it. When I really need her, she’s simply there. You had a word for it. But, well, but . . . I can’t remember things like that.”
Iggy rapidly backed away so that he stood far enough back to see all of the great snake. That was close enough.
Ssserek smiled and was about to speak when Buttons looked up in quick anticipation. She yipped as she began to wiggle, hope and fear chasing one another across her face.
Cross-eye nudged Toby who had had little experience with the smallest dragon. Iggy had told Cross-eye repeated tales about the dragon. Well, he could wait.
Buttons was standing straight and square as the small dragon leveled out above the swamp and drifted into a neat landing pattern. But she was watching for Iggy who had raced down to the water’s edge. Just in time to see one of Sara’s wings catch itself upon a tall clump of brush.
“Whoops,” she yelped in surprise as she somersaulted into a splashing heap of soft brown fur tangled in weed and old broken tree limbs.
Iggy shrieked as he raced into the water, only to disappear beneath the surface of the swamp.
Toby took two quick bounds and was in the water, reaching beneath the surface as Iggy emerged atop Sara’s nicely rounded skull, her small ears deceptively laid back along her head.
Toby’s nose almost met Sara’s directly on as he, too, rose from the water, decaying rottening vegetation hanging from his nose.
Sara could only giggle as she nodded in agreement, almost sending Iggy once again into the swamp.
“And, you must be Toby. Nice to meet you. Iggy has such tales to tell about you two. I’m most honored.”
Toby could only mutter as Sara rose slowly from the swamp, Iggy’s arms tightly clamped about her neck. She was impressive, even disheveled as she was. The young bobcat backed slowly up the beach, never taking his eyes from the form of Sara whose bright eyes and smile had totally captivated him.
Toby was even more impressed as Ssserek and Delph approached and slowly bowed.
“Good evening, Princess Sarandra. Once again, you have come to our rescue.”
Delph pushed forward. Like the others, he loved the young princess. But he was, after all, an alligator. In this case, he spoke for all.
“Princess.” His voice was filled with worry and deep anxiety. He knew both Buttons and Sally so well.
Sara placed one soft paw on Delph’s head. “Not to worry, great friend to our Buttons and Sally. Our beagle recovers slowly, but will do well.”
She looked around. “Indeed, we need to be underway if we are to return before sunset.”
She beckoned to Cross-eye, “Come, my feline friend. You fight like a bobcat, almost.”
Cross-eye smiled and grinned at his close friend. He displayed the claws upon his right paw. Wide for a tomcat, they in no way matched his friend’s. “Well, if I chew his down a bit, I might make it.” He grinned once again.
Cross-eye approached Sara as Toby was about to respond. Turning, he said to Toby, “Well, friend, you can hold on to me. Come on.”
With that and a supple leap, he sat upon Sara’s shoulders, just behind Iggy, who was grinning hugely, enjoying the scene as he did.
Toby began to back away, but found himself leaning against Ssserek who raised one eyebrow.
“Uh, guess you’re right,” he grinned as he quickly regained some composure. He was soon beside Cross-eye, and the two felines hugged Sara as best they could for they quickly found out that however sharp their claws, they could barely get a grip on her soft fur.
Cross-eye winked as they took flight. He had known. Nonetheless, like Toby, his stomach took off as they rose almost too quickly and could not meet Toby’s sickish grin for several moments.
Ssserek heaved a sigh of relief. With the two cats and Iggy out of the way, it was only necessary to have Buttons mount behind Delph’s eye knobs, and they were off.
Above them, JW flew to and fro, announcing the great news to all the creatures of the Great Swamp. Ssserek could only smile as Delph and Buttons traded jokes. If JW had appeared to play a slightly greater-than-great role in the whole affair, why not? He deserved it.
Soon, they were approaching Brokenleaf Beach upon which Sally was now resting among Sara and those who came with her. It would be several weeks before she could again roam the field and forest. It was Iggy who spotted the snake and alligator with Buttons sound asleep between Delph’s eye knobs as he wandered toward the beach.
He had turned to watch Sara as she spoke with his friends. Normally, the small squirrel would have been miffed, if not outright jealous, at such a sight. Not now. He felt so happy seeing her again. His heart was full of her as he rambled down the beech. Spotting JW who stood watch alone at water’s edge, Iggy strolled up, and leaning against the highly surprised crow, murmured, “Some day, old friend, huh?”
JW only nodded. He wanted to say something that would put the impudent scamp in his place. Instead, he simply nodded, “Indeed, indeed!”

The End