Dilly the Lost Duckling Page 2

  “Nice fat belly,” Heidi said with a grin. “Definitely no sign of her starving now!”

  “Look at her little hooves!” Annie cried.

  “Such a cute face!” Eva sighed.

  Even Karl joined in. “Yep, she’s cool,” he agreed. “I reckon she’s about as big as a Great Dane.”

  “Smaller!” Annie insisted. “Tiny, tiny!”

  “Eva, would you lead her to her stable?” Cath asked, handing over the rope.

  Slowly and gently, Eva led Rosie into her new home. The others followed.

  An inquisitive Mickey stuck his big, bony head over his door and stared down at Rosie. Ee-aw! A deafening hello.

  Rosie walked on by without a sideways glance. She’d smelled sweet hay in the hay-net and fresh, clean straw.

  “She’s pretty calm and relaxed considering how badly she’s been treated,” Cath advised. “And of course she’ll make a wonderful kiddies’ pony. You should put that in your advert.”

  Ee-aw! Mickey insisted from next door.

  Rosie got stuck in to her hay, munch-munch.

  “We’ll put her on the website right away,” Heidi told Cath. “And we’ll let you know as soon as we find a good owner for her.”

  Munch-munch. Rosie rolled the hay around her mouth and ground it between her teeth.

  Ee-aw! Mickey brayed.

  Mark put his hands over his ears. “What a racket! I’m out of here!”

  “Me too,” Joel agreed.

  Gradually the stables emptied, until only Eva and Annie were left.

  The two girls stared at Rosie with total delight.

  “So shall we ride Gwinnie now?” Annie said at last.

  “If we can tear ourselves away,” Eva answered dreamily. She loved Rosie’s dark brown eyes peering out from under the shaggy fringe.

  “Gwinnie needs the exercise,” Annie reminded Eva.

  “And I ought to walk Val and Mitch,” Eva sighed. If only Mum would let me keep Rosie! But no, she knew that would never happen.

  It was Annie’s turn to sigh. “Come on then – let’s go.”

  “Yes, let’s go.”

  They sighed again, but for the longest time neither Eva nor Annie moved.

  Chapter Four

  “Steady, Guinevere, no need to barge.” Annie reined her horse back to let Eva open the gate. The two dogs, Mitch and Val, ran ahead.

  It was half past twelve and at last the two girls had torn themselves away from gorgeous Rosie.

  “Lunch is at one-thirty!” Linda Brooks had called over the fence as she heard Annie set off for the river on Guinevere. “Don’t be late!”

  They had an hour to walk the dogs, exercise Guinevere and see the ducklings. “Go ahead, canter Gwinnie around the edge of the field,” Eva told Annie as she shut the gate. “I’ll catch you up down by the river.”

  She took the dogs on a short cut and arrived ahead of Annie, holding open the next gate and letting them through.

  “Your turn.” Annie dismounted and offered Eva her hard hat.

  Quickly, Eva slid her foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. With a click of her tongue she headed the grey mare along the riverside path. “The ducklings were a bit further along, round that bend in the river,” she explained to Annie, who called Val and Mitch and put them on the lead.

  Leading the way, Eva kept her eyes peeled. “Watch out for the golfers!” she called over her shoulder as, across the river, a player struck a ball high into the air and Eva watched it plop safely on to the green.

  Val and Mitch barked at the ball, desperate to chase after it.

  “Sorry you two,” Annie said. “You’ve got to stay on your leads.”

  “The ducklings were around here somewhere, swimming in the middle of the river,” Eva told Annie. “I can’t see them yet – no, they’re not here – oh yes, there they are!”

  Sure enough, a family of baby ducks appeared at the edge of the river, paddling amongst the eddies, while two adults swam further out from the bank, keeping a careful lookout.

  “One, two, three, four … five!” Eva counted the ducklings. She looked again. “Hey, this must be a different family. Yes, the ducklings are bigger, which means they’re a bit older than the ones I saw this morning. They’ve got more brown speckles…”

  “They’re still cute,” Annie said with a smile. She kept tight hold of the dogs and watched the ducklings splash and dive.

  “Look at that one chasing after its mother. Its little legs are paddling like crazy!”

  “But where’s Dilly?” Eva wondered. “If you saw her, you’d really be talking cute!”

  Walking Gwinnie slowly along the riverbank, she kept a lookout for her first and favourite duckling family. She saw a tiny black and white dipper skim the surface of the sparkling water, then veer off towards the golf course.

  “Hey, Eva!” Annie called, pointing to the far bank. “Is that them?”

  And there they were – four little yellow ducklings following their sleek brown mother up the steep bank on to the smooth grass of the golf course.

  The mum waddled ahead, her flat, webbed feet placed firmly on the ground. The little ones followed, stopping and starting, lowering their heads to nip at blades of grass, then scooting quickly to catch up with their mum.

  “Oh yes! Look, Dilly’s the little one bringing up the rear!” Eva cried, jumping down from the saddle and letting Guinevere drop her head to graze. “Uh-oh, she can’t get up the slope – oh yes, she can – go on, Dilly, you can make it!”

  “She’s getting left behind!” Annie said, willing Dilly to scramble up the bank. “Hey, wait for her!” she called to the others.

  The tiny duckling struggled to catch up.

  “Why are they heading over the golf course?” Annie wanted to know. “Shouldn’t they stay by the river?”

  Eva shrugged. “I don’t know. And I don’t think those golfers have seen them either. If they’re not careful they’ll hit the balls straight at the ducklings!”

  On went the mother duck, marching across the green. One, two, three – the bigger ducklings followed. Four! Finally Dilly made it on to the golf course.

  Whack! The first golfer hit a ball on to the green. Thud! It landed ten metres from Eva’s family of ducklings. Their mother quacked and ran back to herd her offspring into a tight huddle.

  “I’ve got to warn those men!” Eva decided. She waved her arms and shouted. “Excuse me. Can you wait a few minutes before you hit the next ball?”

  The three men looked across the river and frowned at the two girls with a horse and two dogs. “What was that you said?” one yelled back.

  “Can you wait until the ducks have got across the green?” Eva repeated. Then she remembered her manners. “Please!”

  “Ducks?” the same man echoed. “Where?”

  “There!” Eva pointed to the mother duck and her brood. “Your golf balls are scaring them!”

  The man turned to his two companions, who shook their heads and stood with hands on hips.

  “Oops!” Annie muttered. “They don’t look happy.”

  “Neither does Dilly.” Eva saw her favourite duckling cower in the middle of the bunch. Then the mother duck flapped her wings and quickly began to hustle the ducklings back down towards the river.

  “That’s right,” Annie murmured. “Get out of their way!”

  “Hang on, I’m sure they won’t take long!” Eva called to the golfers.

  “Fancy having to stop play because of a bunch of daft ducks!” one of them grumbled.

  Soon, though, the mother managed to get her ducklings across the open green and into the long grass of the riverbank.

  “It’s OK now!” Eva called. “Thanks!”

  “Relief!” Annie sighed. “And look, here comes the dad!”

  Just then a drake flew low along the course of the river. He beat his wings strongly, swooping down and landing in the water with a splash. With a loud quack he called for his family to join him. And out came the mo
ther duck with her babies. Dilly was last as usual, cheeping and bobbing in the rough water, struggling to keep up.

  “I hope Dilly doesn’t get left behind again,” Annie muttered, watching another family of ducks swim out from the bank.

  “Oh dear, I don’t think the two families get on.” Eva noticed the drakes stretch out their necks and flap their wings. The females too were making a lot of fuss, leaving their babies and doing the jet-ski thing to warn each other off.

  Annie looked at her watch. “Oops, it’s nearly half-one. I’m going to be late. Come on, Val, up you get. Home time, Mitch!” Quickly she led the dogs back along the path.

  Lingering only to make sure that Dilly had caught up with her brothers and sisters, Eva turned Gwinnie and headed for home. “What did you think of Dilly?” she called to Annie, who had hurried ahead.

  “Totally cute!” Annie agreed.

  Eva smiled as Guinevere trod steadily along the track. “You know what,” she decided, talking more to herself than to Annie. “I’m going to use our Animal Magic website and write online about Dilly and her family – where they live, what they eat, how quickly they grow up and stuff.”

  “A blog!” Annie nodded. “That’s a great idea!”

  Eva grinned and urged Gwinnie on towards home. “Yes, I’m going to start an online duckling diary!”

  Chapter Five

  Sunday, 13th. Went out with Cleo twice, down to the river. Didn’t see Dilly. Spotted the family of older ducklings though. Five of them with Mum. No sign of Dilly and the others, boo-hoo.

  Monday, 14th. School today, so couldn’t go down to the river until teatime. Still no Dilly duckling. Typical! Just because I decide to write this blog, she vanishes!

  Eva closed the laptop and sighed. The missing duckling wasn’t the only thing on her mind. Earlier that day she’d heard Mum talking to Dad – something about donations to Animal Magic being down last month and not having enough money to pay some bills. Her mum had looked worried and had stopped talking the moment she’d seen Eva.

  It wasn’t fair! Just when they’d received the good news from the Council, it seemed that there was something new to worry about.

  Tuesday. 15th. No Dilly! Miss E came to Annie’s house to visit Gwinnie and Merlin. Hope I see Dilly tomorrow.

  Late that night, tucked up in bed, Eva thought about what she’d put on her blog. It had been a busy few days at Animal Magic. Blossom the feral cat had been quickly rehomed. Three people had already been to look at Rosie. A family called Whitaker said they were very interested in offering her a home. Mitch the terrier had been taken in by the local joiner, Pete Knight, one of the volunteers who had helped her dad build the stable block.

  So Eva hadn’t had much time to look for Dilly or to keep a record in her blog.

  “Anyway, there’s nothing to write about!” she sighed as she settled down to sleep. She lay awake for a while, thinking of little Dilly bobbing on the water and remembering what her mum had said a few days before. “Not all ducklings survive … They’re taken by foxes … or they get separated … there are a hundred deadly dangers out there for a little duckling.”

  What if Dilly has got lost?

  “Still awake?” Heidi asked, popping her head round Eva’s door when she came up to bed herself.

  Eva nodded.

  Her mum came to sit on the edge of her bed. “Worried about something?”

  “I haven’t seen Dilly for ages,” Eva confessed. “The last time was when I was with Annie and some golfers nearly whacked their ball straight at the ducklings! Plus, there was another family of ducks, and the grown-ups were arguing, plus…”

  “Whoa!” Heidi shushed her. “Listen, ducks are territorial. They like to have their own stretch of riverbank, or an area on a pond, like most other animals. If there’s more than one family by the bridge, it’s likely that one has been chased off elsewhere. That’s probably what’s happened to Dilly and her family.”

  Eva listened and nodded. “That’s most likely the reason why the mother duck was herding Dilly and the others up the bank over the golf course – she was looking for somewhere else to live.”

  “Exactly. Which is the reason you haven’t seen Dilly lately,” her mum agreed.

  “But what if she got left behind?” Eva said, still worried. “I mean, she’s so little and she could easily get separated and lost…”

  Heidi shook her head. “I think you’re worrying more than you need. Dilly is probably safe with her family, tucked away in a nice new stretch of riverbank, and busily settling into her new home!”

  Deciding to extend her search next day, Eva lay for a while in silence. “Mum,” she said after a while.

  “Mmm?”

  “What were you and Dad talking about yesterday – you know, something to do with money and stuff?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” Heidi replied, gently patting Eva’s hand.

  “Is it about Animal Magic?” Eva persisted. “Are we running out of money to run our rescue centre?”

  “Sshh!” Heidi stroked Eva’s hair back from her face. “Money is always a struggle, it’s true. We’re a charity, so we rely on gifts and voluntary contributions. But you and Karl have to let me and your dad look after that side of things. That’s what we grown-ups do!”

  Slowly, Eva nodded. “Mum…” she began after another long pause. She was feeling sleepy at last, drifting off, with just one more question to ask.

  “Yes?”

  “If we run out of money, will we have to close Animal Magic, even though we got the good news from the Council?”

  “Sshh!” Heidi replied. “Go to sleep, there’s a good girl.”

  Wednesday, 16th. Walked over the old bridge and searched further down the riverbank. Still no Dilly! Am worried, even though Mum said not to be. Where is she? Is she lost and all alone? What happened to her and her family?

  The Whitaker family said no to Rosie in the end because it turns out they might have to move house.

  Dilly, Dilly, where are you?

  On the Thursday afternoon Eva had come out of school with a load of homework. But instead of getting the bus as usual, her dad had picked her and Karl up in his delivery van and driven them home.

  “Good day?” Mark had asked, and Karl had told him that Jake Harwood’s mum had said yes to Ernie the hamster and they were coming to Animal Magic to see him straight after school.

  Eva sat quietly, staring out of the window as the houses of the city gradually gave way to fields. Maths homework – yuck! English – read chapters 6 and 7 of the class reader.

  Walk Val before tea. Walk Cleo after. Look for Dilly again.

  “Eva?” Mark asked. “Hey, daydreamer, did you hear what I just said?”

  Eva gave a small start. She recognized the edge of Okeham village – they were passing the end of Earlswood Avenue, then Swallow Court. “What? No.”

  “I said that the sale of Miss Eliot’s old house, Ash Tree Manor, has just gone through. She called in at the rescue centre earlier today to tell Mum.”

  “Is that good?” Eva asked. She remembered the time when Karl had climbed a tree in the garden of Miss Eliot’s ancient manor house and rescued the old lady’s tabby cat, Tigger.

  Soon after that, Miss Eliot had decided the house was too much for her and had moved to her bungalow in Swallow Court. Animal Magic had taken in her pregnant grey mare, Guinevere, which was where her lovely foal, Merlin, had been born. Then bossy Linda Brooks had fallen in love with Guinevere and Merlin and she’d forgiven Animal Magic for all the animal noises and extra traffic they’d brought to the village.

  “It’s very good news,” Mark told Eva now. “I’m happy for her. Miss Eliot is relieved it’s all over and she has the money from the sale of the manor. No more money worries for that old lady, at least.”

  “Cool,” Eva said absent-mindedly. Then, as they drove up Main Street, closer to home, she suddenly yelled, “Dad, watch out! Brake, Dad, brake!”

  There, right in f
ront of them, was the last thing she’d expected to see – two ducks and four ducklings marching in single file straight across the road!

  Mark glanced in his mirror then slammed on the brakes. The van swerved slightly towards the pavement then stopped. “Everyone OK?” he asked.

  Karl nodded.

  “It’s Dilly!” Eva cried. “Look – the little one at the back. She’s not lost after all – that’s Dilly!”

  Hop-skip-hop – the fluffy yellow bundle scrambled to keep up.

  “Narrow escape,” Karl muttered. “Can I get out and shoo them on to the side of the road?”

  Mark gave the go-ahead. “Watch out for traffic,” he warned.

  Waddle-waddle – the adult ducks took no notice of the van and made their way steadily from one side of the road to the other.

  Karl jumped out. “Shoo!” he called,

  making a whooshing, herding gesture with his arms. “Go on, shoo!”

  Eva glanced anxiously up and down the road. Luckily, there were no other cars around – only George Stevens, Karl’s friend, cycling by. He stopped to let Karl herd the ducks safely across the road.

  “What are they doing here?” Eva asked, still hardly able to believe her eyes.

  Waddle-waddle, hop-skip-hop. The road was hard, grey and wide for the tiny ducklings.

  “I’ve no idea,” Mark replied. He waited until Karl had finished the job and told George what was going on.

  “We nearly ran them over!” Karl reported. “Honestly, talk about bird-brained!”

  “That’s not fair,” Eva muttered. “You can’t blame the ducks!”