The Adventures of Button (13 page)

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.