Badger and Crab's Adventure Read online

  Badger and Crab’s Adventure

  Catherine Trimby

  Copyright © 2018 Catherine Trimby

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  Matador

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  Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,

  Leicestershire. LE8 0RX

  Tel: 0116 279 2299

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

  Twitter: @matadorbooks

  ISBN 978 1788034 067

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  For Phillip

  The night-time worlds of seaside and woodland animals collide.

  Badger and Crab have little in common; however a sense of loyalty and conscience bring them together in an attempt to outwit the thoughtless schemes of human beings.

  The adventure plays out on the beach where Crab is in his element, but Badger is initially most uncomfortable, and then in the wood where Badger and his friends live. Crab, in an effort to warn Badger of imminent danger, leaves his watery world and finds himself in a frighteningly unfamiliar nocturnal environment. Crab’s loyalty and strength are sorely tested as he ventures further and further into the wood.

  The story illustrates how trust and courage can out-manoeuvre adversity and how friendship can be found in unlikely places.

  The descriptions of the beach and the wood are enjoyably authentic and the animals’ characters are amusingly accurate. Carol Davies’ illustrations are quirky and engaging. This book should appeal to children in the 7- 9 age group

  Badger was snuffling along the high-tide mark. He nosed through the piles of dried bladder wrack looking for sand hoppers or maybe a morsel of dead fish left by other scavengers. But it wasn’t his lucky night. The molehills kindly dug by Mole in his home field at the top of the wood had not produced their usual supper of earthworms and so Badger had trundled on his short legs a long way down to the seashore. It was a bit like a foreign land to him. He didn’t like the sea, there was too much water and it was too wet. He didn’t like the sand, it tickled his toes and his claws couldn’t get a proper grip on it. He didn’t like walking on the bigger stones at the top of the beach either, his claws slipped off them and he felt rather top heavy. The shingle wasn’t so bad, although he knew he couldn’t make a quick getaway if he needed to as his paws sank down between the tiny stones and slowed him up. But he was hungry and badgers can’t be choosers, as his Aunt May used to say.

  The sea was halfway in, or halfway out. He wasn’t sure which, not being a shore creature. He wasn’t intending to wait long enough to be certain, and anyway it had been raining so the pebbles were all wet and shiny, which didn’t help in deciding if the sea had washed them and was now going out – or not. It didn’t help either that tonight his friend Moon was being a bit on the shy side, sort of quickly squinting out every now and then and equally quickly popping back behind a cloud, playing hard to get. Badger knew a lot about Moon. On the whole they were good friends, although it wasn’t a sensible idea to become too reliant on her, she was apt to be fickle and disappear without so much as a goodbye, leaving one rather in the dark, so to speak.

  Badger slipped and squelched along the seaweed for a few more metres. He was just about to give up and go home again, perhaps returning through the wood rather than up the valley as there might be a few leftovers from Fox after his evening hunting. Fox was a very untidy creature and often left bits and pieces lying around that Badger enjoyed hoovering up. But just as he turned to go back up the beach he thought he heard a tiny, squeaky voice shouting ‘Help!’ He lifted his snout in the air and turned to face the possible sound, his little ears straining to catch the voice.

  ‘Help, help, oh, please help me.’

  Badger frowned. He couldn’t see anyone else on the beach and the squeaky voice sounded as though it was coming from a rock pool quite close to where the sploshy waves were indecisively pouncing on a bank of shingle, making a scrunchy noise and half drowning out the call for help. Badger wasn’t sure he wanted to delay his return home. His tummy was rumbling and food seemed more important than rescuing someone in distress. He sighed, sat on his haunches to think things through whilst absentmindedly scratching his left ear with his left back paw. Then, somewhat reluctantly making up his mind, he trotted down towards the rock pool feeling rather noble, but also a bit wary in case this was an ambush. You can’t be too careful on dark nights.

  The voice called ‘help’ again. Yes, it was coming from the pool, but whoever was crying couldn’t have been properly under water or the call would have sounded more waterlogged, Badger thought. He reached the edge of the pool and peered down. Moon was helpfully shining at that moment but Badger could only see his own stripy reflection in the water and there certainly wasn’t anyone by the side of the pool. He frowned and his stripes merged into a thick black line on his forehead. His reflection frowned back at him in the moonlight.

  ‘You’ve been an awfully long time coming,’ the squeaky voice said crossly.

  Badger looked again into the water. He looked behind him and to both sides. There was no one there.

  ‘Oh, come on, do hurry up.’ The voice was becoming very impatient.

  ‘Where are you?’ Badger asked, puzzled.

  ‘Here, of course.’

  ‘Where’s here?’

  ‘Under the stone you’re standing on.’

  Badger moved quickly as if he had been scalded. He jumped sideways off the big black slippery stone and then peered down again into the water. Now he could see a large pincer waving in the air, reaching ominously towards his nose and a beady eye looking crossly up at him. The rest of the creature was hidden by the stone.

  ‘I won’t help unless you keep that pincer well away from my nose,’ Badger said decisively. He knew what pincers could do to a chap’s nose. This pincer looked pretty big and workmanlike.

  ‘All right, all right.’ The pincer moved away and Badger shoved his nose under the edge of the stone and gave it a push. It was heavy and it took two or three goes before the trapped, pincer-waving creature managed to scuttle sideways from underneath and scramble up onto the side of the pool.

  ‘Well, you took your time I must say. I could have drowned if you’d been any longer. The tide’s coming in, you know.’ Crab settled onto another stone a little way from Badger and inspected himself. He checked both his big front pincers and then he carefully counted all his legs.

  ‘1, 2, 3, 4,’ he changed sides, ‘5, 6, 7, 8.’ He nodded, satisfied all were present and correct.

  ‘Why were you stuck, then?’ Badger asked, thinking that perhaps he ought to make the first move conversationally, but really rather hoping he could now hurry home and find some supper. He had never had much to do with live crabs. Dead ones were another matter and very scrumptious too, if he was lucky enough to find one before the tiresome herring gulls.

  ‘It was the Moonfaces,’ Crab said, rocking
back on his shell and waving both pincers in the air again to describe a shape that Badger couldn’t recognise.

  ‘What are the Moonfaces?’ Badger asked, puzzled.

  ‘You must know who the Moonfaces are or else you’re very stupid.’ Crab seemed to have forgotten that Badger had just rescued him and was definitely due some thanks. It wasn’t tactful to be so rude.

  Badger shook his head slowly from side to side. He decided that he didn’t want to continue the conversation with this impolite crab. ‘No, I don’t know who they are and, anyway, I think I’ll be going now as you’re obviously all right.’ He turned and skidded carefully off the rock he had been standing on and began to plod purposefully up the beach.

  Crab edged off the rock too and scuttled sideways after him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to be so rude. I really didn’t. I thought I might die if I was stuck under that rock for much longer. I could have drowned and the gulls would be coming as soon as it got light and I was easy meat for them. I’m very grateful to you.’ He swivelled one eye towards Badger and with the other kept a wary lookout towards the streak of light across the horizon, signalling the end of night. He hoped he had been gracious enough to placate Badger. He wasn’t very good at polite conversation, perhaps because it wasn’t often he had someone to talk to.

  Badger stopped and half turned around to look down at Crab. ‘Okay, then, who are the Moonfaces?’

  ‘They have round pale faces just like Moon when she’s big, but they don’t have eight legs like me or four legs like you, they have two and two more for waving in the air or for holding horrid nets and things like that to poke and prod me in the pool.’ Crab spoke fast, afraid that if he didn’t explain quickly Badger wouldn’t wait and would disappear into the woods for ever.

  ‘Oh, you mean people,’ Badger said. ‘I know all about them, they sometimes come with their dogs and spades and try and dig me out of my sett. I don’t like them either.’

  ‘Well,’ Crab went on, ‘I was having a nice snooze in the pool this afternoon. I shouldn’t have shut my eyes, really, it’s not good relaxing on a sunny afternoon. You never know what might happen. Suddenly I was woken up by a small Moonface prodding me in the side. It was most uncomfortable and I’m still a bit sore.’ He stopped and carefully felt just under the left side of his shell with his right side first leg to see if it was any better. It wasn’t, so he put his leg back on the shingle. ‘I tried to get away but the Moonface put his foot in the pool just beside me so I grabbed his toe with my right pincer and squeezed hard. He didn’t like that and made an awful noise and backed off. I thought it would be all right but then he shoved the big rock from the side of the pool and pushed it on top of me and I was trapped. I thought that would be the end of me but a bigger Moonface shouted and said something about having to go home, so the smaller Moonface took his foot out of the pool and ran back up the beach. Then I found I was stuck and there was no one else around to rescue me – until you came.’ Crab drew breath and sat down heavily on the shingle. Both eyes worked together to focus on Badger.

  ‘Well,’ Badger said, ‘I’m glad I was able to help, but now I really must go as I haven’t had any supper yet and it will be light soon and too late to find any.’

  Crab didn’t want Badger to go. It was nice having someone to talk to. He’d been a bit lonely since his wife, Mrs Crab, had left and the babies were no company as yet, they were too small and useless.

  ‘Do you like fish?’ he asked casually.

  Badger loved fish. The thought of a mouthful of fish made him drool. But he was cautious.

  ‘Why?’ He put his head on one side a bit suspiciously.

  ‘If you stay a few more minutes you could help me make a trap in the pool over there.’ Crab waved his left pincer towards another pool further along the beach. ‘If we moved some stones around the edge of the pool, when the tide comes in the fish will follow and when the tide goes out they will be stuck in the pool unable to escape. You could come tonight and have your supper here with me.’ He looked hopefully at Badger. ‘It would be a sort of thank you for rescuing me.’

  It was a tempting offer. Badger lifted his snout and sniffed the air and scanned the horizon across the sea. The night was definitely over and Moon was now a pale glimmer, a shadow of her former self. He ought to be going. But the thought of fish was very tempting and he began to anticipate a possible fishy feast. Quickly he licked up the dribble from his chin with his long tongue and made up his mind.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But I can’t stay for more than a very few minutes, you can see how light it’s getting and I really should be at home by now.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ Crab swivelled round and set off, scuttling quickly sideways towards the pool.

  Badger followed and together they heaved and pushed until the pool was surrounded by quite big stones with sand wedged carefully between them. It was going to be a lot deeper than it had been before. The tide was now coming in nicely and would soon fill it up.

  ‘See you tonight, then?’ Crab asked in an off-hand way, brushing a strand of green seaweed from his shell with his right pincer.

  ‘All being well,’ Badger replied a bit breathlessly. It had been harder than he expected as Crab hadn’t really done much of the work. Noses and paws were more useful than pincers, he realised. He waved his paw at Crab to say goodbye and scrambled as fast as his short legs would let him across the sand and the shingle and then over the bigger stones until he was once more in the wood, where he felt a lot happier and safer.

  Crab watched him go. ‘I hope he comes back tonight, it’s always good to have a chat.’ He also needed to scurry away before daylight finally broke. He hurried down to the edge of the rapidly approaching waves and quickly dug himself down into the sand until he was buried except for one beady eye. In a moment a wave washed over him and then there was no sign of him at all. The sea busily sploshed and splashed its way back up the beach, filling the pool with lovely fresh salty water. Hopefully the fish would follow.

  Badger’s legs were aching: it had been a very long and unproductive night food-wise and now he was tired and still hungry. He walked as quickly as his aching legs would let him up through the wood, only stopping occasionally to catch his breath and to snuffle into the leaf mould under the beech trees to see if there were still any bluebell bulbs worth eating. He found a few, and then there was a leftover frog carcass carelessly discarded by Fox and a small mouthful of earthworms on the bank by the little brook. He sighed. That would have to do for this evening’s supper. Maybe tonight there would be fish. That would be good. He reached the sett much later than usual and Mrs B was already in bed. She had changed the bedding, too, with newly cut bracken fronds – not the green ones but last year’s brown ones. They were lovely and scratchy and he wriggled down into them, easing the itches on his back as he did so. He put his snout on Mrs B’s paw and shut his eyes. She murmured something about the sweetcorn being nearly ready to eat and with that comforting promise he sighed and fell into a deep sleep.

  Badger slept the day away, as badgers do, and it wasn’t until dusk that evening that he woke and stretched lazily before poking his nose out of his door under the hawthorn tree to see what was going on. Mrs B had already gone hunting, probably towards the sweetcorn field, he guessed. He sniffed the air carefully and then remembered Crab’s promise of fish.

  ‘Oh, yummy, yummy, yummy,’ he crooned to himself in anticipation and set off round the edge of the field towards the wood that led down to the beach.

  On the way he met Grey Squirrel, who was chattering noisily in the beech tree as he passed.

  ‘Keep away, keep away, keep away,’ Grey Squirrel shouted at him, her tail all fluffed up and twitchy. ‘They’re my hazelnuts under the tree, so don’t you dare pinch any.’

  ‘I don’t want your hazelnuts, Squirrel, I’m off to have a fish supper,’ Badger said looking over his shoulder at
her as he trotted purposefully on towards the shore.

  Grey Squirrel twitched her tail some more from her branch and made her scolding noise, but didn’t follow.

  Badger reached the edge of the wood and paused for a moment before leaving the cover of the trees. He knew it was always wise to sniff out the lie of the land and make sure there are no enemies lying in wait before you break cover. Badgers don’t have many real enemies except the Moonfaces, but he didn’t want an argument with Fox or with another family of badgers whom he didn’t know and who might be bad-tempered.

  He couldn’t see anyone around. Moon was still in bed, lazy girl, so it was quite dark and very quiet except for the swooshing of the sea as the waves flipped and flopped gently onto the sand. The tide was further out than last night but as he carefully crossed the bigger stones at the top of the beach Badger thought he could see the pool he and Crab had made over to one side, close to the slabs of rock under the cliffs. He began to be excited at the possibility of a fish supper.

  Crab was waiting impatiently for him. He was sitting on the edge of the pool and waved his right pincer in the air as Badger approached.

  ‘At last!’ he complained. ‘I thought you’d forgotten or something and I was about to eat them all myself, even though I’m not really very partial to sprats.’ He sidled close to the water.

  ‘Sprats?’ Badger said in delight. ‘Are there sprats?’ He reached the pool and put his snout into the water, ruffling its surface so that he couldn’t see anything underneath.

  ‘Slow down, slow down,’ Crab said crossly. ‘We may need careful tactics to catch them. They’re very slippery customers, you know.’

  Badger soon realised that though Crab could be lazy and was prone to rudeness he was also a canny fisherman. He watched as Crab eased himself slowly and without making any ripples into the pool at one end. He gestured with his right pincer for Badger to stay at the other end of the pool with his snout in the water and his mouth open. Badger lay down on the stone and lowered his snout into the water and held his breath. Very carefully Crab rounded up the sprats. There were about a hundred of them, all silvery and spinning round the pool in excited circles. Somehow Crab corralled them at one end and then gently guided them towards Badger. The silly sprats didn’t know what was happening and most of them ended up in front of Badgers’ mouth. All he had to do was to open and close it quickly a few times to have the best fish supper of his life.