The Runaways Page 6
Chapter 10
As Harvey trotted along beside Tara through the green moorland dotted with late summer wildflowers, the railway line never too far away, his instinct told him they were being watched. But whenever he looked round he couldn’t see anyone. And whatever it was, it kept downwind of him so his strong sense of smell couldn’t identify it.
He whined as Tara turned away from the railway up a rough path to a lake surrounded by brooding mountains. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go. He wanted to stick close to the railway tracks, not diverge from them. But Tara wanted to go that way and so he followed her.
Once they were at the lake he couldn’t sense whatever had been stalking them any more. But he was still very alert for any slight movement or sound as he lapped at the icy cold, clear glacial water. Tara waded out into the lake, using her trunk to suck up the water and transfer it to her mouth. She lay down in the shallows and then sat up and drank some more. The lake had small waves like the sea had done. But these were gentler – soft ripples.
Harvey put one paw and then the other into the cool water, but he didn’t go in any further than that. His paws were sore and had tiny cuts on them from where he’d walked on sharp stones. His legs ached from all the walking, but the wound from where the goad had cut him was healing well.
The sun was warm as it beat down on him, and while Tara finished playing in the water the old dog lay down at the lakeside, closed his eyes and dozed. Eventually, Tara came to join him. At first, she lay on her left side with her legs curled up into her tummy. But then she rolled over on to her right side to try and get more comfortable.
Half asleep now Harvey twitched and whimpered until Tara rested her trunk over him. Then he fell into a deep, deep sleep and he didn’t twitch any more. Tara slept too.
The two animals were alone now and far away from the circus. Far away from anything they had previously known.
Suddenly Harvey awoke, his tired body quivering and trembling as his eyes flashed open and he let out a low growl. He’d heard a splash and now his sensitive nose detected the scent of something unlike anything he’d ever smelt before. It wasn’t quite a dog or a cat, nor a lion or tiger or camel or horse or any of the other exotic animals he’d smelt during his time at the circus. And yet it wasn’t totally dissimilar to them either.
Then he heard a sound, a yipping, almost barking, noise, and he sensed danger close by.
The creature that had followed them was now upwind and Harvey picked up the scent and looked in the direction it was coming from.
There. There it was. Further along by the river that flowed into the lake.
Harvey stood up.
The creature was bigger than him, about the size of a large dog. It had fawn-brown fur with dark stripes across its back and base of its tail.
In its jaws was a salmon and Harvey drooled at the sight of the large fish.
He barked and was surprised when the creature looked over at him, dropped the fish and ran.
Harvey looked down at Tara, still sleeping, and then at the fish, waiting to be eaten and no sign of the creature that had caught it.
He looked back at Tara and whined. The fish was too much to resist. Harvey ran to the salmon and ate and ate until he could eat no more. And all the time he looked back at Tara and over in the direction the creature had fled as he held down the salmon in his paws. He knew the striped wolf-cat must be somewhere near by, probably watching him, but he couldn’t see it and it didn’t approach again.
Tara woke as Harvey was finishing the fish and gave a cry of utter despair when she couldn’t see him. He ran back to her his tail wagging and she trumpeted with happiness.
Together they followed the river that flowed from the lake down into the fells. Harvey cocked his ear as he heard the whistle of a train in the distance.
Tara had never met a sheep before, and now there were sheep with brown fleeces and white faces grazing all around. She stopped to stare at them. But the sheep edged away from her, unsure of the baby elephant, although curious about her too. They stared back at her and bleated once they were a safe distance away.
The lambs fed from their mothers and Tara needed to feed from her mum too. No amount of grass that she ate would be enough to replace it. She needed milk and every day that passed without it left her weaker, hungrier and more disorientated.
That evening the grey clouds that had been lowering all day finally exploded into a storm that ripped through the sky, sending angry raindrops down on the young elephant and the old dog.
Tara’s sensitive skin felt every large drop as it landed on her. Harvey tucked his tail miserably between his legs. The rain stung his eyes, but he still looked to the left and right, searching for somewhere to get away from the storm. He needed a place they could both fit. And suddenly he saw it – a darker shadowy area in the rocks just ahead. A cave. He headed towards it, but stopped when he realized Tara was no longer with him. As he looked round for her an almighty thunderclap crashed through the air and he dived into the nearest bramble bush.
Tara, who’d only wandered off a little way, gave a terrified squeal and started running and running in a panic, not knowing where she was going, not caring where she was heading.
Harvey barked at her to stop, but she didn’t hear him above the noise of the rain. All she knew was she must run from the sky that had shouted at her. She stumbled and fell heavily, scrambled up again and carried on running.
To the side of her a streak of lightning hit a tree and lit up the landscape as a branch fell to the ground narrowly missing her. Tara swerved to the left and started running that way. But now Harvey saw she was running towards a cliff edge on the wet grass, blinded by the torrential rain and exhausted with panic and lack of proper food.
Harvey barked a warning, but she didn’t stop so he ran after her although his chest burned with the pain of running so fast.
To the right of him he saw how to cut her off and just managed to reach the cliff edge and the long drop below it before she did. And there he stood as the wild-eyed baby elephant came running straight at him, ears flapping, and trumpeting in terror.
His old lungs were bursting for air, but he kept his legs braced against the whipping wind and relentless rain. Would she stop? Would she stop in time or would she run right over him? Harvey didn’t know, but he wasn’t moving. He had to try and stop her.
When Harvey had suddenly gone Tara thought she’d lost him like she’d lost her mum. But now he was standing right in front of her. The little elephant came to a sudden halt when she saw the old dog, almost falling as she did so.
She stretched her trunk out and touched him as if she could hardly believe he was really there. Harvey wagged his tail and licked her face.
He led the little elephant back to the cave through the rain. Here at least they would be dry and safe until the storm passed.
Tara lay down on the cave floor making small whimpering noises. Harvey lay close to her and nuzzled her with his face. He licked her tears away as she cried herself to sleep.
Harvey stared into the darkness listening to the storm raging outside, until cold and aching, his joints stiff, and very uncomfortable on the cave floor, he too fell asleep.
Chapter 11
Mr Jones came to see Shanti in the barn after Yolanda and AJ had gone to Sunday school.
‘Morning, sweet Shanti,’ he said, as he stroked her trunk. ‘What a storm we had last night, didn’t we?’ He was glad she’d stayed dry in the barn.
Shanti gave a deep rumble as if she were agreeing with him.
The elephant had only been at the farm for a few days, but already Mr Jones found himself thinking of her as part of his family. He knew some people might think him crazy talking to an elephant, but when he looked into her big intelligent eyes he was sure she understood every word. He didn’t want her ever to leave.
‘Mr Jones?’ Annie’s voice called, and the next moment she poked her head round the barn door. ‘Oh there you are. I’ve got a letter for you.’
‘On a Sunday?’
‘It’s from the circus ringmaster at Whitehaven. Morning, Shanti.’
She handed the letter to Mr Jones and went to give Shanti a stroke.
‘Well, no rest for the wicked. I’m off to help with the bracken bashing – nuisance stuff,’ Annie said, as she headed off. She looked over at Mr Jones. He was engrossed in the letter and hadn’t even heard her. ‘Bye, Shanti.’
Mr Jones unfolded the letter from Albert and frowned at what he read.
Everyone at the village Sunday school wanted to know more about the elephant.
‘What’s her name?’
‘How big is she?’
‘Can we come and see her?’
‘Do you think your elephant would like to eat bracken?’ Daisy asked. ‘The bracken at the farm needs to be cut back or the sheep can’t graze on the grass struggling to grow beneath it.’
‘It gets everywhere,’ Simon said. ‘And it’s taller than our sheep now. It’s hopeless trying to keep it under control without a horse to pull the bracken basher cart. Even the Land Army girls can’t keep it down. It’s too much for them.’
‘Dad says eating bracken makes farm animals sick,’ Yolanda said. ‘But I bet Shanti could flatten the bracken for you by pulling the bracken basher.’
Simon and Daisy’s eyes lit up.
‘Could she?’
‘Will you ask your dad?’
‘It’d make all the difference to our farm.’
‘Ours too,’ said some of the other children and Yolanda and AJ promised they’d ask their dad as soon as they got home.
Shanti was in the barn and Mr Jones was in the house when they got back.
‘Dad, do you think Shanti would be able to pull the bracken basher like Buttercup and Bluebell used to?’ Yolanda asked him.
‘What’s wrong?’ AJ asked. He could see something wasn’t right with his dad.
‘I’ve just had a very worrying letter from the ringmaster at Whitehaven, Shanti’s old owner,’ Mr Jones told them.
He read Yolanda and AJ the letter from the ringmaster telling him who Tara was and that she had run away with a circus dog called Harvey. Then he read them Albert’s letter.
It began with helpful training instructions.
Training by ringing a bell when the elephants have done what you want them to do, so that they understand they’ve got it right is a good idea. It works well for the elephants’ best friend, my dog, Harvey, too.
My dad used to say we talk all the time and expect the elephants to listen all the time and then wonder why they don’t respond when we tell them to do something.
With a bell ring they’ll understand it’s training time and be ready to learn. Also, quite often, I find it helps if I do what I want the elephant (or dog) to do first while it’s watching and a bit of sign language can also come in very handy.
I hope Tara is not being too much of a handful. She can be a little tinker sometimes and pretend she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do when really she does. But that’s a two-year-old elephant for you. And I’ve no doubt you’ll love her just like I do. She’s still only a toddler really and although she might think she’s very grown-up sometimes the truth is she’s not old enough to survive for long without her mother’s milk.
Anyway, sorry I’ve gone on for so long – I’m only trying to help and make it the best possible experience for you, Shanti and her little daughter, Tara, while they’re with you. Do write back and let me know how they are getting on if you have a chance. I miss them more than I can say and can’t wait to see them again once the war is over.
Yours sincerely,
Albert Jennings
Camel Corps.
‘So Tara’s actually Shanti’s baby daughter,’ Yolanda said slowly, as she tried to take in the awfulness of what had happened. ‘Poor Tara. Poor Shanti. I can’t believe it. They should be together.’
‘No wonder Shanti got so upset when we said her name,’ said AJ. Now he knew why she was so sad. ‘But where can her baby be?’
‘The circus was at Whitehaven when she went missing,’ Mr Jones said.
‘We have to find her, Dad,’ Yolanda said, blinking back tears. ‘We have to do everything we possibly can to find her and bring her here to live with Shanti and us.’
‘We will,’ her father promised her. ‘We’ll go and see Constable Kean right now.’
AJ pushed his father’s wheelchair to the front door and so he didn’t see the worry on his dad’s face. Baby elephants that had been separated from their mothers were very vulnerable and it might already be too late by the time they found Tara. Elephants sometimes gave up and died when they were mourning the loss of their loved ones and Tara would be particularly susceptible due to malnutrition. But he couldn’t tell his children that. It was too awful to even think about.
Shanti heard them from the barn and was waiting at the cottage front door when they came out. She gently nudged AJ out of the way. Pushing Mr Jones’s wheelchair was her job. AJ laughed and stepped aside as Shanti held the bar with the end of her trunk and they headed down the hill to the village high street.
A reporter from the local paper came running out of the newspaper office when he saw them. He’d missed Shanti’s arrival and was intending to go out to the farm. But now here was the perfect photo opportunity.
‘Quick – bring the camera!’ he shouted over his shoulder to the photographer. ‘This could get us in the national papers!’ He hurried forward shouting, ‘Sir, sir!’
‘Stop, Shanti,’ said Mr Jones and Shanti stopped.
‘Can we have a picture?’ the photographer asked.
‘Let’s tell them about Shanti’s baby,’ AJ said and his dad thought this was a very good idea.
They didn’t say the name Tara because it was too upsetting for Shanti. They spelt out her name instead.
‘We have to find her,’ Yolanda said. ‘We have to.’
‘She’s with a Border collie,’ said AJ. And he spelt out Harvey’s name rather than saying it, just in case Shanti recognized that too.
The reporter wrote it all down and promised the story of the missing baby elephant would be in the paper the next day.
‘How about a picture now?’ the photographer said, and he took a shot of them all before they headed on up the street to the police station.
Stony Oakhill only had one constable and Constable Kean was a big Shanti fan. He’d met her on the evening she’d arrived and given her a sandwich. Now he brought his leftover strawberry jam sandwiches out with him when he saw her from the station window.
‘Well hello, beautiful,’ Constable Kean said to Shanti as he patted her.
Shanti opened her mouth wide and Constable Kean popped a jam sandwich inside.
Shanti had already swallowed one sandwich and when she saw that there were more in the brown paper she opened her mouth again.
‘Go on then,’ Constable Kean said, holding out the bag, and Shanti took out the sandwich using the finger-like tip of her trunk.
‘We’re here to report a missing elephant,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Are you? Bit big to mislay isn’t it?’ Constable Kean joked, until he saw that no one was smiling.
‘It’s Shanti’s baby, T …’ Yolanda almost said the name but stopped just in time. ‘It’s spelt T A R A.’
The policeman frowned and almost said the word.
‘Don’t say it in front of Shanti!’ AJ said.
‘Oh, of course not,’ Constable Kean said, giving Shanti a look. ‘So when did it go missing?’
‘On the day Shanti came to us – three days ago now,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Have there been any sightings of her?’ Constable Kean asked him.
‘No – but Shanti only came from Whitehaven,’ said AJ.
‘Hmmmm, there are miles and miles of open countryside around Whitehaven,’ said Constable Kean.
‘If we don’t find her, she’ll die,’ Yolanda said. ‘She might even be …’
‘All right,’ Constable Kean said, patting her shoulder. ‘I’ll put the word out and let you know as soon as I hear anything.’
That night, as the previous nights, Shanti bellowed in the barn throughout the evening, but now they knew why.
‘Poor Shanti,’ Yolanda said to herself as she washed up the dinner plates.
Much later AJ watched from his bedroom window as Shanti headed off down the farm track calling to her daughter with her deep elephant call, but he didn’t follow her, and in the morning she’d returned to the barn.
Chapter 12
Tara and Harvey headed through the early morning summer mist across the meadow past the sheep and up the hill. The orchard at the top had plum and apple and pear trees, and Tara hungrily ate the fruit along with the leaves. But here she also found something new – wild strawberries – and the little elephant pulled them up by the runners that grew above ground. A basket of eggs had been left by the front door and Harvey gobbled them up and licked his lips.
In the meadow beyond, Beatrix Potter, wearing a battered old straw hat was painting at an easel. She was visiting a sick friend and thinking how they could really do with a nurse for the villages in the area. How were the farmers supposed to cope when they were ill and the work still needed to be done?
‘Oh,’ Beatrix exclaimed, when she saw the elephant with a trail of strawberries hanging from its mouth and the old collie dog with her. ‘Oh my goodness.’
She’d heard about the missing baby elephant from one of the Land Army girls. Apparently it had been in the paper, but she certainly hadn’t expected to see it here of all places. She had to tell someone what she’d seen as soon as possible, so she left her easel and paints where they were, and hurried across the meadow full of daisies and buttercups to the village lane as quickly as she could.
‘All right, Miss Potter, I mean Mrs Heelis,’ the vicar said as she ran past him.
But Beatrix didn’t have time to stop.