For a while, he was content to listen to the sounds his feet made on the soft earth, and the gentle whisper of the wind in the willows, until presently he stopped and peered at his reflection in the river. He bowed, as if meeting someone important for the first time, and said to his watery alter-ego, ‘Good Morrow, Sir. Permit me to introduce myself. My name… is Nostradormouse.’
He chuckled to himself, and then continued on his way.
I
The black bird finished his song and was about to leave, when he noticed his audience and turned to greet them.
‘I’m dreadfully sorry,’ he chirped, ‘I didn’t notice you there. How rude of me!’
‘Oh, that’s no bother,’ said the mouse, ‘but could I ask you to repeat your song? It was so lovely.’
‘Why, thank-you!’ exclaimed the bird, ‘I would be honoured to repeat it!’ Proudly, he puffed out his chest, and began his song again:
The mice nodded vigorously, and so the black bird continued;
They thanked the black bird profusely.
‘Oh, think nothing of it!’ replied the bird. ‘That’s what I’m here for. Now, I must bid you farewell. There are other ears to fill with sweet song!’
With that, he took to the air in search of new audiences. When he was gone, they gave each other a long hug.
‘Do you think he’s okay?’ said Mother.
‘I hope so,’ replied Father. ‘I do worry about him.’
‘Me too,’ said Mother. ‘But I’m so proud.’
Arvic Vole was not feeling too good. For a day or so now, his limbs had seemed heavier, and his breath came in short, rasping gasps. He felt both hot and cold in turn, and would shiver and sweat in the same breath. But when his appetite dwindled, and he could no longer stomach even the simplest of meals, he decided that enough was enough. Something was most definitely wrong with him, and it needed to be fixed. But how? The one animal that could aid him had left many weeks ago, after helping his cousin Pitamus to cure his family.
Pitamus! Maybe he had some of that Nostrum stuff left? It was worth a try. Wearily, Arvic raised his aching bones from his chair and made his way through the labyrinth of tunnels that lay under the pine glade.
Pitamus’s wife, Lina, met Arvic at the entrance to their Burrow and immediately guessed what was wrong.
‘Oh, dear!’ she said, ‘you poor thing! Come in at once and lie down on our bed. Pitamus! Pitamus! Come quick!’
‘What is it, my dear?’ said Pitamus, hurrying in from another tunnel, closely followed by Piney. When he saw Arvic lying on his bed, he knew without being told. ‘Oh, dear… Oh, deary me!’ he muttered, ‘What are we to do?’
‘Well, husband,’ began Lina, ‘you can start by collecting these plants,’ and gave him a list describing each herb that Nostradormouse had given them.
‘Where did you get this?’ asked Pitamus.
‘Where do you think?’ Lina replied.
Pitamus hurried out and quickly gathered all the herbs on the list. When he returned, the copper pan was already heating the water, and Lina was dabbing a wet cloth on Arvic’s forehead.
‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered, ‘We’ll have you up and about in no time.’
After taking the newly made nostrum, Arvic slept soundly for two days. When he awoke, he found Pitamus sitting beside the bed in his favourite armchair, whittling away at a long slim piece of wood with a knot near the top.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘Oh, hello Arvic,’ replied Pitamus, looking up from his work, ‘It’s just a small gift to say thank-you.’
‘Oh, you shouldn’t have!’ said Arvic, ‘I don’t deserve such a gift!’
‘No, you don’t!’ came a voice from the entrance to the Burrow, ‘Not after hogging our bed for two days!’ Lina entered, carrying the smaller of her two children. ‘It’s for our mutual friend, not for you!’
‘Oh, of course!’ said Arvic, ‘I was just testing!’
‘How are you feeling?’ asked Pitamus, blowing away a few wood shavings from his carving.
‘Never better!’ said Arvic, confidently.
‘Good,’ said Pitamus, ‘because I need you to do something for me.’
‘You want me to take that gift of yours to Nostradormouse, don’t you?’ he said.
‘Now who’s the prophet?’ said Lina.
Arvic smiled, and then addressed his cousin once again. ‘At a guess, I take it that your gift is a staff of some kind.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Pitamus, holding the staff at arm’s length to admire it. ‘I’ve been working on this since he left.’
‘And I have, too!’ said a small voice from behind Lina.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Pitamus, ‘And so has Piney!’
‘I must admit, it’s rather a fine piece of work,’ said Arvic. He looked gratefully at Pitamus, then turned and smiled at Lina and Piney. ‘I should be proud to take this to our friend,’ he said.
The mouse was scampering about on the ground, collecting hazel nuts that had fallen from the tree in a storm the previous night. They weren’t at their best, as he much preferred them green and juicy, straight from the branch, but food was food.
His wife called out from the branch above him. ‘Look, dear! Look who it is!’
The mouse watched as the salmon wearily swam past him into the pool, where it could rest at last. The mouse dropped the nuts it had gathered and raced up the trunk of the tree and into the hollow, where his wife was already preparing to leave. As he entered, she turned to him and said, ‘This is so exciting! We’re going to see our son!’
‘We can’t go yet,’ he said, ‘it’s not time.’
‘It isn’t?’ she replied, looking crestfallen.
‘No,’ said the mouse, ‘not yet.’
‘But I want to see our son!’ she exclaimed.
‘I know. I do, too.’
They came out of the hollow to watch the sun set behind the canopy of trees that framed their home. They stood there, together, arm in arm, as the daylight faded. As they glanced down at the pool beneath them, they saw the salmon circling its birthplace, swimming faster and faster. Soon, it had created a whirlpool, and the waters churned excitedly. Then, the salmon leapt up from the centre of the vortex, and the waters followed it. The mice watched in amazement as the salmon landed on the ground, and the waters flowed over him, following a dip in the earth that they were sure had not been there before.
They looked at each other and laughed with joy.
‘Now can we go?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘
Word of the extraordinary phenomenon had spread quickly. Soon, others joined the two mice. A family of shrews were the first, and they were soon accompanied by two raccoons. By the next day, a party of natterjack toads were swimming in the stream; the young ones were carried along by the current, and two old terrapins swum lugubriously alongside them.
Just out of sight of the main party, a pack of wolves followed at a safe distance, and, at their own pace, three young lynx kittens tried to stay a few steps ahead of their parents.
Many species of birds joined the caravan of creatures. In the tops of the trees, all manner of creatures scampered and scurried, and in the evening the frantic fluttering of many bats could be heard. A pair of peregrine falcons flew ahead of the main party and returned excitedly to report what they had seen. It appeared that this was not the only stream to snake its way towards the heart of The Great Woods; no less than four new streams were flowing towards a single source. Nothing quite like this had ever happened before, and the other streams had gathered their own pilgrims.