The Adventures of Button (9 page)

Buttons was small and scared. Terror was beginning to grow deep inside. But she ignored it as she stared into the red eyes before her. She would not back down, but attack him she did, even biting him on his foreleg. But he was big and strong. Still, he squealed. And then they were all on her, or at least that’s how it felt. He shouted them into order before she knew what was going on. He limped over to her, slowly walking around. She tried to turn to face him, but two big rats wouldn’t let go of her, each holding onto a shoulder. Their teeth, sharp and strong, hurt. But she didn’t say anything; she wouldn’t give them any satisfaction. Then at his command, they began to race in at her, several at a time, nipping her as they did so. She fought back, returning bite for bite, until she could no longer move, her muscles twitching with fatigue. She sat, but would not go down on all four, turning her head back and forth, daring as best she could any who would approach her again.

Hurting all over, the terror inside grew until she thought she would faint from it alone. The rats, too, were tired of their game, though their laughter never let up. The King Rat had sat off to one side, watching, and then returned to face her.

“Bite me, will you!” He chuckled to himself, as though it were all a joke. She thought it was to himself and the others. “No, fun though this has been, I think there’s a better way in which to make an impression on one so young and ferocious.

“
Do
it
now
!” He suddenly shouted at the two large rats. They grabbed her again, this time by either side of her neck as another grabbed her tail. There was a terrible pain. And then, they were all laughing at her, pointing at her tail.

Her tail hung limply, broken in several places, blood dripping to the brown earth. She turned and turned again, trying to see it, but could not. Then she ran, bursting through the crowd of rats, their laughter filling her head, their eyes again whirling in the air. She ran and ran. But whether it was from the rats or her broken and bleeding tail, she could not tell.

Buttons lay on her side, her legs twitching, her ears laid back against her smooth, rounded head. She whimpered in her sleep, and then began to snarl as a small red-and-white beagle rushed up the hill. It was Sally, and she stopped abruptly as she saw her best friend beginning to snarl. Sally moved forward quietly, until she stood beside Buttons. The beagle was worried, worried about her best friend and what was happening elsewhere. Well, first things first.

Sally gently nudged Buttons, poking her in the side, very gently at first, and then with greater urgency, whuffing as she did so. Buttons’s legs stopped, pawing the air, and her breath came more slowly. The Scottie dog’s ears perked up, and then her eyes opened. Then she leaped to her feet, snarling at Sally as though she still confronted the rat. But as full consciousness returned, she dropped her head, shame rushing over her like a blanket of fear. Trembling, she looked at her best friend, Sally. Seeing her for the first time, Buttons spoke.

“Oh, Sally, it’s so awful, so terribly awful. Every time. Every time I sleep, he’s there, laughing at me as they did that awful day the rats caught me.” She sighed deeply. “That day.”

Sally knew exactly what Buttons was speaking about, as Buttons had told her many times what had happened.

“That awful day, Sally. When they broke my tail.”

She would not look backward, knowing all too well what she would see. A broken and twisted tail. It was hateful. And it had been painful, as the evil, grinning Great Rat leader made sure.

Sally nudged her, shoulder to shoulder, rubbing her head against Buttons’s head. There was nothing to be said, Sally knew that, and did what she did best—quietly reassure her best friend with her presence, her gentle touch.

Buttons stood, and, taking a deep breath, said, “I won’t forget. But, he will not beat me. Not even in my dreams.” She looked hard at Sally. “I’m sorry to always be such a nuisance. But, but, well . . .”

Sally grinned. This was more like it. Buttons would recover fully from the dream. And, in time, to get on with more problems.

Slowly, Buttons stopped shivering as Sally walked shoulder to shoulder with her, reassuring her again and again. Sally was slightly taller than Buttons, and whereas Sally had slender legs which one day would carry her swiftly wherever she went, Buttons was stocky, and for a female Scottie, broad in the shoulders. Both were young and greatly appreciated by the inhabitants of the field and forest for their adventurous spirits and their ability to deal with problems others could not manage. Being young, their spirits were typically high and sometimes mischievous. Buttons recovered quickly. Clearly, Sally was deeply concerned about something. Something that would test both spirit and mind. Nightmares would have to wait.

Buttons turned to Sally, questions in her eyes.

Sally nodded and then answered without being asked. “We have real problems. Well, anyway, the otters do. Something terrible has happened. They need us. Now.”

Wasting no time for further discussion, both headed south towards the running river which lay at the edge of the Great Forest. Sally and Buttons broke through the forest brambles and up to the edge of the river. Two very large adult otters watched them from the opposite bank, sitting upright so nothing escaped their attention. Although the otter parents were very careful in the education of their young, playtime was theirs alone. But today, things were different, and Buttons and Sally had immediately sensed it. Something was wrong.

They turned and moved parallel to the river, several of the younger otters matching the two dogs’ pace easily in the water. Reaching the dam of the beaver tribe, they carefully made their way across, being particularly careful to disturb nothing. The beavers tolerated the two, but were short-tempered at the best of times. And this was not a good time. The sense of wrong and terrible deeds hung heavily in the early morning sun which filtered through the overhanging branches.

Buttons and Sally approached the elder otters cautiously. Although very good friends with one of the younger otters, Dodger, this was no time for games. Dodger sat at one side, his silence a warning greater than action or words. He simply stared at his two friends as they approached shoulder to shoulder, inseparable friends. The two, Scottie and beagle, stopped short of the two magnificent otters. Sleek and immaculately groomed as they were, they frowned, and the larger male actually bared fangs, something that Buttons and Sally had never witnessed before in all of their many visits and many pranks among their good friends, the young otters.

The female of the pair simply stated in muted tones, “One of the small ones disappeared two days ago.”

Buttons and Sally gasped. Sally blurted out, “You mean one of them drowned? Haven’t you looked downstream? That’s terrible.”

The older and larger male dropped to all fours, glaring at the small beagle, his eyes burning into the beagle’s. “No, that’s not what’s meant. One of them was taken. Taken right out of the den, at night, when his father and mother were absent for a few minutes.”

It was Sally’s turn to frown with horror and disbelief. Never in her experience had anything like it ever happened. She couldn’t believe it and wanted to know more.

Buttons stared in fascinated horror also, not knowing what to do. She glanced over at Dodger who still sat, quietly watching the two. He had not moved forward.

“Surely,” thought the beagle to herself, “he cannot believe we had anything to do with it.”

But this was a ghastly occurrence. The otters were jealously protective of their young who freely roamed the river and its banks, oftentimes in the presence of the two dogs. Their parents had never interfered before, though it was quite uncommon for any other creatures to join the otters in ramblings along the river.

Stepping before the elders, both dogs nodded as Buttons carefully and respectfully addressed them. “Obviously, something terrible has happened. We will do what we can to help resolve the situation.”

The two elders sat upright again, and surveyed the two with sharp eyes and keen wits. They needed all the help they could muster, but these two young dogs. That was a matter for due consideration, but both knew there was no time for that. They quickly made up their minds.

“Quickly follow us.” The two elders moved off, followed by Buttons and Sally, glancing worriedly at one another. Dodger and two young otters followed at a distance, curiosity and fear making them watch the forest more carefully than ever before.

A muskrat slowly moved out of his den as they passed. He peered suspiciously at the group and chirped a short question, and then moved in line behind the small group.

Their goal lay at the far end of the row of dens, and both Buttons and Sally immediately moved forward to survey the surrounding wood which was quite close. The otters had stopped and allowed the two dogs to investigate on their own. They knew that while their own noses were very good, these two excelled.

Sally moved toward the wood as Buttons carefully slipped into the den, closely followed by the two inhabitants who immediately placed themselves before their newborn. They intently watched every move, their muscles bunched in anxiety.

Buttons slowly circumnavigated the deep and comfortable den, ignoring the parents guarding their newest litter, now smaller by the absence of one. Her nose close to the ground, she slowly moved about, stopping and sniffing more closely at displaced leaves. There was a musty odor. A feeling of fear began to grow in the midst of her belly, slowing growing as she continued to move about.

Yes. There it was again, nearer the litter. Stronger, too. The sensation of evil crawled up her spine, the hackles rising involuntarily along her back. The otter parents sensed something was wrong, but could not identify it. The small dog’s composure was rapidly disappearing as she moved toward the litter.

The parents glanced at one another as Buttons moved past them, not seeing the two in her concentration. She sniffed once, and then slowly took a deep breath, containing within it the sweet odor of the newborn otters and something else. She gently nudged a newborn to one side and sniffed deeply again.

Buttons’s eyes were large in her head as she turned to meet the worried expressions of parents and the elder otters who had moved in to observe the Scottie’s actions. Buttons had dropped her head to the ground once again after the first glance.

Stiff-legged, she moved by the otters, her nose following a trail neither otter nor dog could see, but one which was all to clear to the keen nose of Buttons, who was beginning to tremble with deep emotion. That emotion was becoming increasingly evident to the worried otters.

Buttons left the den and turned to the wood as Sally reappeared. She, too, like Buttons, was gripped by emotion and almost slipped into the river in her anxiety to reach her best friend.

The elder male otter wore streaks of silver fur on his face. His features were blank, and he said nothing. As the two dogs reached one another, his lips slowly curled upward and backward, baring large, white fangs. The normally smooth features became increasingly gaunt and fearful as the emotions emanating from the two dogs closed around him. The hair on his nape slowly rose as he moved forward to sit beside Buttons and Sally.

Sally turned to him, having to sit so that she could more clearly see his features. “Sir, Buttons knows what happened. She immediately recognized the smell.”

The large otter raised himself to scan the wood, and then quickly lowered himself to all fours and moved toward Buttons who was sniffing audibly, scanning back and forth, anxiety clearly written in her quick side-to-side movements. Her small feet were a blur of movement as she covered the ground about the den and between den and forest. She was snarling and her fangs were clearly visible. Anger and fear were readily evident.

As the otter’s approach caught her attention, she stopped. Though small, her defiance and anger were admirable. He paused as she slowly relaxed and the glitter in her eyes ebbed.

“You smell better than we, even after two suns have moved by. What is it that so disturbs you, little one?” The elder otter’s head moved to and fro, seeking to find what disturbed the small Scottie. “Please, it is our river and our young who are endangered. Share with us what you have found.”

His voice was low. Nice things were not happening. The otters moved closer to hear better. Sally waited for Buttons to speak.

Buttons looked up and at the same time began to tremble. She then moved further from the group of young ones. Turning, she addressed the elder otter. Her voice was taut and closely controlled.

She hissed, “The rat. He is back.” She could say no more at the moment as her strength almost gave out, Sally’s shoulder giving her more confidence than Buttons felt.

The elder knew the young dog in front of him was fearless and to see her fear made him shiver inwardly. There was more here than he and his group had suspected, and he began to wonder if he had made a mistake in not making the loss of a young one more widely known. But nothing had ever disturbed his group’s peace. The River Running was always there and had been the same in his memory. Now, something of which he knew nothing was intruding itself. He looked back at the row of dens along the riverbank. This was his home, nothing could be allowed to disturb it. But he felt helpless, only the two stalwart dogs standing between his clan and a danger unknown.

He turned and lifted his silver snout to the sky and whistled a pure, rich sound that carried to all corners of the river and its inhabitants. Peremptorily, he summed the other elders. They needed to know. Noses and then eyes, followed by the sleek bodies of young and elder otters emerged from the many dens. Some slithered into the water to swiftly make their way upstream, others simply ran as never before, their supple bodies moving gracefully in their leaping, scrambling rush to answer the sudden and unexpected summons. They gathered around, on all sides, shoving and pushing to be near their leader.