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Title : THE WIND ON EAST WILLOW...
link : THE WIND ON EAST WILLOW...

THE WIND ON EAST WILLOW...

An adventure starring Toad, Badger, Ratty, and Mole - and, of course, Miles...

 

 

Regular reader Terranova47 wrote a story for his grandson and has graciously allowed me to publish it here on Crivens.  Hope you enjoy it as much as T47's grandson did.

Plotted and written by BRIAN BERKE

Visualised and illustrated by CARMEN CERRA

(Expanded and edited by G. Robson)

Toad and his three friends, Badger, Ratty and Mole, sat in wicker chairs placed on the magnificent manicured lawns of Toad Hall.  Each sipped a cooling and refreshing drink of lemonade and chatted idly about nothing in particular.   Then a look of sudden remembrance came over Toad's countenance and he addressed his companions.

"Just remembered something, you chaps.  Heard from the baker's boy that there's been something going on in the Wild Wood that has even the stoats and weasels scared.  Fancy going on a little hunt to see what all the fuss is about?"

"I'd heard the same myself," said Badger.  "It started around a week ago, but let's not rush into anything without being suitably prepared.  I happen to know that there's a fearsome hunter living nearby that we'd be wise to have join in our venture."

"An excellent idea, Badger, the sooner the better," said the adventurous Ratty.

"We'll need all the help we can get if what we've heard is true," added Mole.

Toad's three chums, fortified by the lemonade and selection of cakes and biscuits they'd recently consumed, headed to Toad's armoury to gather shotguns, clubs, knives, and a large net.  They made their way around to toad's garage, where they found him sitting on a huge picnic basket.  "Just in case we require a little sustenance later," explained Toad, who never liked doing things by halves.  They had soon loaded everything into the car, and drove to a nearby village, wherein East Willow Street was situated.

 

Badger got out and, as he walked up the driveway of a house, the door opened and a fierce Chihuahua, alongside a little boy, barked at him.  "Quiet, Zazi!" said the little boy, and the dog stopped barking immediately.

 

"My sources tell me that you're the fearsome hunter of East Willow," said the Badger.  "Is that true, little boy?"

"Yes.  My name is Miles and I'm a big boy," replied the cherubic child.

"In that case," responded the Badger, "would you like to join us for a picnic in the Wild Wood, before we hunt for a fearsome beast that's scaring even the weasels and stoats and other animals of the forest?"

"Yes.  Let's get started right away," said the brave Miles, eager to be off on the hunt.  First, though, Badger cleared things with the boy's parents, who knew of Badger and what an upright, trustworthy sort he was.  They also knew there was no stopping their son once he'd got an idea in his head.

The group soon found a nice spot in the woods, and, leaving their mighty assortment of weapons in the car, they unloaded the picnic basket and prepared to enjoy their repast.  Suddenly, from somewhere nearby in the forest, a tremendous crash was heard as a tree fell to the ground.   The five crouched behind a hedge, ready to evaluate the situation from a safe vantage point.

A huge dinosaur lunged out of the woods and Toad jumped up with joy, enthusiastically saying "Look!  What a wonderful pet he'll make.  I must have him."

"Quiet, Toad," urged Ratty, cautiously.  "That's a carnivore... I don't think they make good pets!"

"A... a... a... d-d-dinosaur!" stammered Mole.

"Not to worry," soothed the fearless Miles, "I'll take care of this."  So saying, he stepped forward and stared the lumbering behemoth straight in the eyes, before letting out a mighty "ROAAAARRRR!"

The dinosaur, not used to being met with such courage, turned tail and ran crashing through the trees until he could no longer be seen or heard, and silence once again descended on the Wild Wood.  The animal had escaped down the tunnel from which he'd climbed a week before, filling it in behind him.  He was now safely back in a forgotten prehistoric land at the centre of the earth, too scared ever to return to the surface.

"Time for something to eat," said Miles, surveying the feast laid out at his feet.  The five friends soon made short work of it and started packing up the picnic basket.

"How did you do that?" asked the incredulous and impressed Mole.  "You didn't even need a weapon."

"It was nothing," replied Miles, modestly.  "All dinosaurs are scared of Milesosaurus REX!"

"ROAAAARRRR!"

The End.

The hero of the story

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