14: PIKE

 

   The Catsville racecourse committe held a big party to celebrate Joshua Tibbles' new pond in the middle of the racecourse lawn. Councillor John Mogg, the mayor of Catsville and a leading committee member, came in his big shiny chauffeur-driven car to turn on a fountain in the middle of the pond, and the Catsville town band sat on little white chairs to play all the latest hits. Then Merlin gave a special flying display with his magic carpet, Rudi and Martha blew some spectacular flames, and a Cat-tv camera team made a special programme for its main evening news broadcast.

   Everyone agreed that it was a very fine pond indeed, and the racing squirrels adored it. Several jumped into the water as soon as Councillor Mogg had turned on the fountain, and raced each other from one side of the pond to the other. Wayne wanted the kittens to join them, but the four boy Mighty Mousers were rather doubtful, whilst Roxanne and Fluffy said that they had spent much too much time brushing their fur to get it wet.

   The racing squirrels promptly splashed them anyway, and Fluffy stalked off in a huff. But then she came back very quickly, because the Cat-tv camera team began filming Roxanne looking damp, but very cheerful, and Fluffy hoped very much to become a television presenter when she left kitten school.

   The racing squirrels began taking regular early morning dips after that, and Oliver was given the job of taking a comb and hair dryer and combing out and drying their damp fur so that it all fluffed up beautifully before their races.

   One morning he was fluffing up Wayne's tail into a very becoming bushiness when Wayne began chattering and pointing at the pond excitedly. ‘Look, look, look.’

   Oliver stared, and began to laugh. Six small silver fish were dancing in the water on their tails, with more little fish swimming round and round them in a circle, for all the world as though they were putting on a special show. Then all the fish bunched into a big group and spread out, to form the shape of a heart, and swam to the edge of the pond to wave their fins.

   Oliver and Wayne were entranced. They quickly called all the rest of the Tibbles family and the other racing squirrels, and Chloe, Zoe, Pandora and Mary crumbled little bits of cat biscuit and threw the crumbs to the fishes, who ate them very politely before forming a fresh heart shape.

   Oliver told the other Mighty Mousers at school that morning, and Salem, who knew some goldfish, and thought he might be able to talk to the newcomers, cycled to the racecourse as soon as he had finished his tea.

   He sensibly took a little bag of cat biscuit crumbs with him, and began to bubble at the fish as they snacked. The fish were each not much bigger than a grown-up cat's paw, so their voices were very small and rather faint. But Salem lay on the grass at the edge of the pond, listening very carefully, and learned that they had swum in from a nearby river.

   ‘We want somewhere peaceful to lay our eggs,’ they bubbled. ‘Big bad fish came into our river, wanting to eat us all, but then we found a lovely tunnel.’

   ‘What about food?’ asked Oliver, who was also listening, because he realised that he understood basic fish. He felt concerned, because the pond only had a few rather straggly water plants, and he still considered several square meals a day the most important starting point in any animal's existence.

   The fish formed into a circle, like a large hungry mouth, and then danced again. One swam to the edge of the pond, until it was almost nose to nose with the kittens, which was a very brave thing to do, because cats are really rather fond of fish, and even the best kittens in the world sometimes give way to temptation.

   ‘We thought we might work for our living,’ it bubbled. ‘We're all very musical, and we thought we might be able to put on little shows. You could pay us in crumbs - we rather like those.’

   Salem and Oliver both thought this a very attractive idea, and went off to tell Oliver's parents. Joshua and Ruth Tibbles both approved immediately, and Joshua began planning a special fish house underneath the fountain.

   ‘We can borrow a crane from the town hall to lift the fountain up,’ he purred thoughtfully, half aloud, and half to himself. ‘Then we can take the base away, and put a fancy wrought iron box in its place. I've got one, tucked away in a shed somewhere, with lots of holes in the sides. We'll have a lovely fish house if we plant some water plants to grow down the sides, like green curtains.’

   So he asked Councillor Mogg, and the town hall sent a big crane, and soon the fountain was resting on a wrought iron frame, with new plants arranged all around, and the little silver fish swimming in and out of holes in the sides.

   The little fish were ever so happy with their new home, and gave a regular show every evening, with two shows apiece on Saturdays and Sundays. They danced on their tails, and jumped high into the air, two by two, and sometimes in trios, scattering little showers of bright droplets, and then swam in intricate patterns. They also raced the squirrels when they took their morning dips, and sometimes chased along behind them, nipping at their ankles in fun. The squirrels all took it in very good part, and tried chasing the fish in turn, but a flick of a silver fin is very much more effective in water than the swish of a soggy tail, and they always lagged sadly behind.

   Then, one day, something dreadful happened. Oliver came out to give the fish their breakfast of cat biscuit crumbs, and found himself looking down at a large dark fish, about the size of a squirrel's tail, with unpleasant little eyes and a long snout lined on either side with lots of sharp little teeth.

   ‘I'll have those,’ said the fish, smiling in a very unpleasant sort of way. ‘Nice with fresh fish they'll be.’

   Oliver looked around the pond, but all the little silver fish had vanished. A dreadful, really dreadful, thought crept into his mind. ‘You haven't...?’ He could not bring himself to put his thought into words, it was just too terrifying.

   ‘Not yet.’ The fish snapped its jaws hungrily. ‘But soon. I've got them penned in, and I'll munch them up as soon as they come out.’

   Oliver saw a flash of silver amongst the plants surrounding the fish house, and suddenly the big dark fish was gone, with a lightning flick of its tail. He opened his mouth to miaow a warning, but the little silver fish vanished immediately back into the fish house, and the big dark fish had to swim in circles around it in frustration.

   Oliver wondered what to do next. But the dark fish was already back at the pond edge, looking up at him hungrily. ‘Come on, cat, be a sport. Give me some breakfast and I'll leave them alone for a while.’

   Oliver reluctantly dropped some crumbs, and found himself looking into a really evil pair of jaws.

   ‘Very nice, very tasty,’ the fish bubbled as it finished munching. ‘I'll have some more.’

   Oliver could see the little silver fish darting in and out of the fish house, but always staying close to safety. He scattered more crumbs, and thought hard. Perhaps he could get one of the other Mighty Mousers to stand on the far side of the pool and feed the little fish, whilst he kept this brute busy.

   But it was almost if the fish could read his mind. ‘I'm too big to get in there, but I'm expecting my babies to join me some time later today,’ it bubbled. ‘They're small enough to get through the holes. That'll be a feast.’ The evil pair of jaws snapped again, and a moment later the dark fish was gone.

   Oliver was almost in tears as he padded back home to get ready for kitten school. He had to do something, and do it very quickly indeed.

   He found Salem and the other Mighty Mousers playing tag in the school yard. They all flattened their ears on their heads in mixed horror and anger as they listened, and Fluffy rushed into the school building to fetch Lucy Prettypaws. But there was a loud coo from above them as Oliver began telling his story over again.

   ‘What you want is a heron.’ It was the wise old pigeon that had helped bring Salem and Roxanne together after the Mighty Mousers stopped being mischievous, sitting perched on the branch of a tree overlooking the school yard.

   Lucy Prettypaws and the kittens all stared at him.

   ‘That dark fish with the sharp teeth is a pike,’ the wise old pigeon explained. ‘He eats other fish, and he'll attack kittens and other small animals when he's hungry enough.’

   Oliver thought of the racing squirrels, and shivered.

   ‘I'll have Heron  here by the time you finish morning school,’ the pigeon continued. ‘Pike are tricky, so we'll have to plan something really carefully.’

   He stretched his wings, waved the tips comfortingly at the kittens, and a moment later he was gone.

   However none of the kittens learned very much at school that morning, and even Lucy Prettypaws seemed a little distracted as she took them through a refresher lesson in deportment, which involved all the boy kittens stalking along very proudly, with their tails held straight, but curled just a fraction at the tips, whilst the girl kittens fluttered their whiskers and practised looking coy.

   The heron flew into the school yard as they were coming out of class. He was a very tall bird, with a stern look in his eyes, and a long beak and very long legs, and the kittens all held well back from him, because they knew that if a pike could snap up a kitten, and a heron could snap up a pike, then this newcomer must be treated with a very great deal of respect.

    The wise old pigeon arrived at the same time, and settled comfortably on a branch. ‘Heron thinks you should trick him,’ he cooed.

   The heron squawked sharply. ‘Two kittens, one each side of the pond, both throwing crumbs. Got that?’ He stared at the kittens sternly, and they edged back in fear. Salem nodded cautiously.

   ‘Good.’ The heron began to speak in impatient little bursts of squawks. ‘Cover the pond surface with as many crumbs as you can, so he can't see what's going on. Understand?’

   He paused, and smiled a stern heron smile. ‘He's cocky with it, and crafty. But we'll be craftier.’

   Oliver edged forward a little. ‘You won't eat the little silver fish, will you?’, he miaowed nervously.

   The heron sniffed. ‘I'm a heron. I only eat real fish, I don't touch small fry.’ He eyed Oliver thoughtfully, and Oliver backed away, safely out of reach.

   ‘Right. I'll fly down there, and stay out of sight,’ the heron rattled off a fresh series of short, sharp squawks. ‘You cover the pond with crumbs. He'll come to the surface to feed. I'll take him off your claws.’

   The kittens filled several baskets with cat biscuit crumbs and set off for the racecourse on their bicycles. They arrived to find two racing squirrels frisking around at the edge of the pond, and Oliver raced towards them, just as they were preparing to dive into the water.

   ‘No, no, no,’ he screamed.

   The two squirrels stared at him as if he were quite mad.

   ‘There's a pike in there.’ He pointed with his paw at a dark shadow just below the surface. The squirrels stepped back from the edge, shaking with fear as the dark shadow surfaced.

   ‘That wasn't nice.’ The pike snapped its jaws. ‘I fancied some meat for tea.’ It eyed the kittens' baskets hopefully. ‘You haven't brought any fish, have you?’

   Oliver threw him a handful of crumbs, and then the kittens began scattering crumbs over every inch of the pond surface. The pike swam around a little at first, mopping them up, but then realised that it was much less effort staying in one place to be fed, and soon the water was an almost solid carpet of broken biscuit, broken only by a long snout cruising around munching lazily.

   Joshua Tibbles arrived, drawn by the fuss, listened as the kittens explained what had happened, and went off again rather quickly.

   Then nothing happened for a moment, though there were one or two small ripples by the fountain, and Oliver breathed a silent prayer that the baby pike had not yet arrived, and that the little silver fish were still cooped up safely in their fish house.

   The long snout stopped for a moment, as though the pike had heard something, and it lay silent for a moment just below the crumb-covered pond surface. Then its jaws opened again for a fresh helping of cat biscuit crumbs, and snapped shut again.

   Suddenly the surface of the pond heaved, as though the pike were running from disaster. But it was too late. The heron swooped, and a moment later stood at the side of the pond, holding the pike flapping and struggling in its beak, and a moment later pike and bird were both gone as the heron lazily flapped its way back towards its home.

   The kittens stood and cheered, and the two racing squirrels sat on their haunches, quite faint with relief at their lucky escape. A moment later Joshua Tibbles returned, carrying a hammer, and some nails, and a roll of netting.

   ‘We better work fast, before the young pike get here,’ he told the kittens. ‘I'm going to net over the entrance to the tunnel, then we should be safe.’ He was just in time, for several rather fierce little pike pushed against the netting, just as he finished nailing it into place.

   The little silver fish came out of their fish house to watch, and danced in the water for joy at being safe again.

   Then they they began eating for all they were worth, to make up for the time they had been penned in by the pike. But it still took them several days after that to clean all the cat biscuit crumbs from the pond surface, and by the time they finished they were all rather chubby.

   They also gave a special show to thank the kittens, and danced as much as they could, given all the crumbs they had eaten. Several also had families of tiny baby silver fish, and the kittens lay at the edge of the pond watching them being taught to dance, and from time to time Joshua checked the netting over the tunnel entrance. But the pike never came back, though once or twice the kittens saw the heron flying hopefully overhead.