The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
IV. MR. BADGER
THEY waited patiently for what seemed a very long time, stamping inthe snow to keep their feet warm. At last they heard the sound of slowshuffling footsteps approaching the door from the inside. It seemed, asthe Mole remarked to the Rat, like some one walking in carpet slippersthat were too large for him and down at heel; which was intelligent ofMole, because that was exactly what it was.
There was the noise of a bolt shot back, and the door opened a fewinches, enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinking eyes.
'Now, the VERY next time this happens,' said a gruff and suspiciousvoice, 'I shall be exceedingly angry. Who is it THIS time, disturbingpeople on such a night? Speak up!'
'Oh, Badger,' cried the Rat, 'let us in, please. It's me, Rat, and myfriend Mole, and we've lost our way in the snow.'
'What, Ratty, my dear little man!' exclaimed the Badger, in quite adifferent voice. 'Come along in, both of you, at once. Why, you must beperished. Well I never! Lost in the snow! And in the Wild Wood, too, andat this time of night! But come in with you.'
The two animals tumbled over each other in their eagerness to getinside, and heard the door shut behind them with great joy and relief.
The Badger, who wore a long dressing-gown, and whose slippers wereindeed very down at heel, carried a flat candlestick in his paw and hadprobably been on his way to bed when their summons sounded. He lookedkindly down on them and patted both their heads. 'This is not the sortof night for small animals to be out,' he said paternally. 'I'm afraidyou've been up to some of your pranks again, Ratty. But come along;come into the kitchen. There's a first-rate fire there, and supper andeverything.'
He shuffled on in front of them, carrying the light, and they followedhim, nudging each other in an anticipating sort of way, down a long,gloomy, and, to tell the truth, decidedly shabby passage, into a sort ofa central hall; out of which they could dimly see other long tunnel-likepassages branching, passages mysterious and without apparent end. Butthere were doors in the hall as well--stout oaken comfortable-lookingdoors. One of these the Badger flung open, and at once they foundthemselves in all the glow and warmth of a large fire-lit kitchen.
The floor was well-worn red brick, and on the wide hearth burnt a fireof logs, between two attractive chimney-corners tucked away in the wall,well out of any suspicion of draught. A couple of high-backed settles,facing each other on either side of the fire, gave further sittingaccommodations for the sociably disposed. In the middle of the roomstood a long table of plain boards placed on trestles, with benches downeach side. At one end of it, where an arm-chair stood pushed back,were spread the remains of the Badger's plain but ample supper. Rows ofspotless plates winked from the shelves of the dresser at the far endof the room, and from the rafters overhead hung hams, bundles of driedherbs, nets of onions, and baskets of eggs. It seemed a place whereheroes could fitly feast after victory, where weary harvesters couldline up in scores along the table and keep their Harvest Home with mirthand song, or where two or three friends of simple tastes could sit aboutas they pleased and eat and smoke and talk in comfort and contentment.The ruddy brick floor smiled up at the smoky ceiling; the oaken settles,shiny with long wear, exchanged cheerful glances with each other; plateson the dresser grinned at pots on the shelf, and the merry firelightflickered and played over everything without distinction.
The kindly Badger thrust them down on a settle to toast themselvesat the fire, and bade them remove their wet coats and boots. Then hefetched them dressing-gowns and slippers, and himself bathed the Mole'sshin with warm water and mended the cut with sticking-plaster till thewhole thing was just as good as new, if not better. In the embracinglight and warmth, warm and dry at last, with weary legs propped up infront of them, and a suggestive clink of plates being arranged onthe table behind, it seemed to the storm-driven animals, now in safeanchorage, that the cold and trackless Wild Wood just left outsidewas miles and miles away, and all that they had suffered in it ahalf-forgotten dream.
When at last they were thoroughly toasted, the Badger summoned them tothe table, where he had been busy laying a repast. They had felt prettyhungry before, but when they actually saw at last the supper that wasspread for them, really it seemed only a question of what they shouldattack first where all was so attractive, and whether the otherthings would obligingly wait for them till they had time to give themattention. Conversation was impossible for a long time; and when itwas slowly resumed, it was that regrettable sort of conversation thatresults from talking with your mouth full. The Badger did not mind thatsort of thing at all, nor did he take any notice of elbows on the table,or everybody speaking at once. As he did not go into Society himself,he had got an idea that these things belonged to the things that didn'treally matter. (We know of course that he was wrong, and took too narrowa view; because they do matter very much, though it would take too longto explain why.) He sat in his arm-chair at the head of the table, andnodded gravely at intervals as the animals told their story; and he didnot seem surprised or shocked at anything, and he never said, 'I toldyou so,' or, 'Just what I always said,' or remarked that they ought tohave done so-and-so, or ought not to have done something else. The Molebegan to feel very friendly towards him.
When supper was really finished at last, and each animal felt that hisskin was now as tight as was decently safe, and that by this time hedidn't care a hang for anybody or anything, they gathered round theglowing embers of the great wood fire, and thought how jolly it was tobe sitting up SO late, and SO independent, and SO full; and afterthey had chatted for a time about things in general, the Badger saidheartily, 'Now then! tell us the news from your part of the world. How'sold Toad going on?'
'Oh, from bad to worse,' said the Rat gravely, while the Mole, cockedup on a settle and basking in the firelight, his heels higher than hishead, tried to look properly mournful. 'Another smash-up only last week,and a bad one. You see, he will insist on driving himself, and he'shopelessly incapable. If he'd only employ a decent, steady, well-trainedanimal, pay him good wages, and leave everything to him, he'd get on allright. But no; he's convinced he's a heaven-born driver, and nobody canteach him anything; and all the rest follows.'
'How many has he had?' inquired the Badger gloomily.
'Smashes, or machines?' asked the Rat. 'Oh, well, after all, it's thesame thing--with Toad. This is the seventh. As for the others--you knowthat coach-house of his? Well, it's piled up--literally piled up to theroof--with fragments of motor-cars, none of them bigger than your hat!That accounts for the other six--so far as they can be accounted for.'
'He's been in hospital three times,' put in the Mole; 'and as for thefines he's had to pay, it's simply awful to think of.'
'Yes, and that's part of the trouble,' continued the Rat. 'Toad's rich,we all know; but he's not a millionaire. And he's a hopelessly baddriver, and quite regardless of law and order. Killed or ruined--it'sgot to be one of the two things, sooner or later. Badger! we're hisfriends--oughtn't we to do something?'
The Badger went through a bit of hard thinking. 'Now look here!' he saidat last, rather severely; 'of course you know I can't do anything NOW?'
His two friends assented, quite understanding his point. No animal,according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to doanything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during theoff-season of winter. All are sleepy--some actually asleep. All areweather-bound, more or less; and all are resting from arduous days andnights, during which every muscle in them has been severely tested, andevery energy kept at full stretch.
'Very well then!' continued the Badger. 'BUT, when once the year hasreally turned, and the nights are shorter, and halfway through them onerouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up and doing by sunrise, ifnot before--YOU know!----'
Both animals nodded gravely. THEY knew!
'Well, THEN,' went on the Badger, 'we--that is, you and me and ourfriend the Mole here--we'll take Toad seriously in hand. We'll stand nononsense whatever. We'll bring him back to reason, by force if need be.We'll MAKE him be a sensible Toad. We'll--you're asleep, Rat!'
'Not me!' said the Rat, waking up with a jerk.
'He's been asleep two or three times since supper,' said the Mole,laughing. He himself was feeling quite wakeful and even lively, thoughhe didn't know why. The reason was, of course, that he being naturallyan underground animal by birth and breeding, the situation of Badger'shouse exactly suited him and made him feel at home; while the Rat, whoslept every night in a bedroom the windows of which opened on a breezyriver, naturally felt the atmosphere still and oppressive.
'Well, it's time we were all in bed,' said the Badger, getting up andfetching flat candlesticks. 'Come along, you two, and I'll show you yourquarters. And take your time tomorrow morning--breakfast at any hour youplease!'
He conducted the two animals to a long room that seemed half bedchamberand half loft. The Badger's winter stores, which indeed were visibleeverywhere, took up half the room--piles of apples, turnips, andpotatoes, baskets full of nuts, and jars of honey; but the two littlewhite beds on the remainder of the floor looked soft and inviting, andthe linen on them, though coarse, was clean and smelt beautifully oflavender; and the Mole and the Water Rat, shaking off their garmentsin some thirty seconds, tumbled in between the sheets in great joy andcontentment.
In accordance with the kindly Badger's injunctions, the two tiredanimals came down to breakfast very late next morning, and found abright fire burning in the kitchen, and two young hedgehogs sitting ona bench at the table, eating oatmeal porridge out of wooden bowls. Thehedgehogs dropped their spoons, rose to their feet, and ducked theirheads respectfully as the two entered.
'There, sit down, sit down,' said the Rat pleasantly, 'and go on withyour porridge. Where have you youngsters come from? Lost your way in thesnow, I suppose?'
'Yes, please, sir,' said the elder of the two hedgehogs respectfully.'Me and little Billy here, we was trying to find our way toschool--mother WOULD have us go, was the weather ever so--and of coursewe lost ourselves, sir, and Billy he got frightened and took and cried,being young and faint-hearted. And at last we happened up against Mr.Badger's back door, and made so bold as to knock, sir, for Mr. Badgerhe's a kind-hearted gentleman, as everyone knows----'
'I understand,' said the Rat, cutting himself some rashers from a sideof bacon, while the Mole dropped some eggs into a saucepan. 'And what'sthe weather like outside? You needn't ”sir” me quite so much?' he added.
'O, terrible bad, sir, terrible deep the snow is,' said the hedgehog.'No getting out for the likes of you gentlemen to-day.'
'Where's Mr. Badger?' inquired the Mole, as he warmed the coffee-potbefore the fire.
'The master's gone into his study, sir,' replied the hedgehog, 'and hesaid as how he was going to be particular busy this morning, and on noaccount was he to be disturbed.'
This explanation, of course, was thoroughly understood by every onepresent. The fact is, as already set forth, when you live a life ofintense activity for six months in the year, and of comparative oractual somnolence for the other six, during the latter period you cannotbe continually pleading sleepiness when there are people about or thingsto be done. The excuse gets monotonous. The animals well knew thatBadger, having eaten a hearty breakfast, had retired to his study andsettled himself in an arm-chair with his legs up on another and a redcotton handkerchief over his face, and was being 'busy' in the usual wayat this time of the year.
The front-door bell clanged loudly, and the Rat, who was very greasywith buttered toast, sent Billy, the smaller hedgehog, to see who itmight be. There was a sound of much stamping in the hall, and presentlyBilly returned in front of the Otter, who threw himself on the Rat withan embrace and a shout of affectionate greeting.
'Get off!' spluttered the Rat, with his mouth full.
'Thought I should find you here all right,' said the Otter cheerfully.'They were all in a great state of alarm along River Bank when I arrivedthis morning. Rat never been home all night--nor Mole either--somethingdreadful must have happened, they said; and the snow had covered up allyour tracks, of course. But I knew that when people were in any fix theymostly went to Badger, or else Badger got to know of it somehow, so Icame straight off here, through the Wild Wood and the snow! My! it wasfine, coming through the snow as the red sun was rising and showingagainst the black tree-trunks! As you went along in the stillness, everynow and then masses of snow slid off the branches suddenly with a flop!making you jump and run for cover. Snow-castles and snow-caverns hadsprung up out of nowhere in the night--and snow bridges, terraces,ramparts--I could have stayed and played with them for hours. Here andthere great branches had been torn away by the sheer weight of the snow,and robins perched and hopped on them in their perky conceited way, justas if they had done it themselves. A ragged string of wild geese passedoverhead, high on the grey sky, and a few rooks whirled over the trees,inspected, and flapped off homewards with a disgusted expression; but Imet no sensible being to ask the news of. About halfway across I came ona rabbit sitting on a stump, cleaning his silly face with his paws. Hewas a pretty scared animal when I crept up behind him and placed a heavyforepaw on his shoulder. I had to cuff his head once or twice to get anysense out of it at all. At last I managed to extract from him that Molehad been seen in the Wild Wood last night by one of them. It was thetalk of the burrows, he said, how Mole, Mr. Rat's particular friend,was in a bad fix; how he had lost his way, and ”They” were up and outhunting, and were chivvying him round and round. ”Then why didn't any ofyou DO something?” I asked. ”You mayn't be blest with brains, but thereare hundreds and hundreds of you, big, stout fellows, as fat as butter,and your burrows running in all directions, and you could have takenhim in and made him safe and comfortable, or tried to, at all events.””What, US?” he merely said: ”DO something? us rabbits?” So I cuffed himagain and left him. There was nothing else to be done. At any rate, Ihad learnt something; and if I had had the luck to meet any of ”Them”I'd have learnt something more--or THEY would.'
'Weren't you at all--er--nervous?' asked the Mole, some of yesterday'sterror coming back to him at the mention of the Wild Wood.
'Nervous?' The Otter showed a gleaming set of strong white teeth as helaughed. 'I'd give 'em nerves if any of them tried anything on with me.Here, Mole, fry me some slices of ham, like the good little chap youare. I'm frightfully hungry, and I've got any amount to say to Rattyhere. Haven't seen him for an age.'
So the good-natured Mole, having cut some slices of ham, set thehedgehogs to fry it, and returned to his own breakfast, while the Otterand the Rat, their heads together, eagerly talked river-shop, which islong shop and talk that is endless, running on like the babbling riveritself.
A plate of fried ham had just been cleared and sent back for more, whenthe Badger entered, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and greeted them allin his quiet, simple way, with kind enquiries for every one. 'It mustbe getting on for luncheon time,' he remarked to the Otter. 'Better stopand have it with us. You must be hungry, this cold morning.'
'Rather!' replied the Otter, winking at the Mole. 'The sight of thesegreedy young hedgehogs stuffing themselves with fried ham makes me feelpositively famished.'
The hedgehogs, who were just beginning to feel hungry again after theirporridge, and after working so hard at their frying, looked timidly upat Mr. Badger, but were too shy to say anything.
'Here, you two youngsters be off home to your mother,' said the Badgerkindly. 'I'll send some one with you to show you the way. You won't wantany dinner to-day, I'll be bound.'
He gave them sixpence apiece and a pat on the head, and they went offwith much respectful swinging of caps and touching of forelocks.
Presently they all sat down to luncheon together. The Mole found himselfplaced next to Mr. Badger, and, as the other two were still deepin river-gossip from which nothing could divert them, he took theopportunity to tell Badger how comfortable and home-like it all felt tohim. 'Once well underground,' he said, 'you know exactly where you are.Nothing can happen to you, and nothing can get at you. You're entirelyyour own master, and you don't have to consult anybody or mind whatthey say. Things go on all the same overhead, and you let 'em, and don'tbother about 'em. When you want to, up you go, and there the things are,waiting for you.'
The Badger simply beamed on him. 'That's exactly what I say,' hereplied. 'There's no security, or peace and tranquillity, exceptunderground. And then, if your ideas get larger and you want toexpand--why, a dig and a scrape, and there you are! If you feel yourhouse is a bit too big, you stop up a hole or two, and there you areagain! No builders, no tradesmen, no remarks passed on you by fellowslooking over your wall, and, above all, no WEATHER. Look at Rat, now. Acouple of feet of flood water, and he's got to move into hired lodgings;uncomfortable, inconveniently situated, and horribly expensive. TakeToad. I say nothing against Toad Hall; quite the best house in theseparts, AS a house. But supposing a fire breaks out--where's Toad?Supposing tiles are blown off, or walls sink or crack, or windows getbroken--where's Toad? Supposing the rooms are draughty--I HATE a draughtmyself--where's Toad? No, up and out of doors is good enough to roamabout and get one's living in; but underground to come back to atlast--that's my idea of HOME.'
The Mole assented heartily; and the Badger in consequence got veryfriendly with him. 'When lunch is over,' he said, 'I'll take you allround this little place of mine. I can see you'll appreciate it. Youunderstand what domestic architecture ought to be, you do.'
After luncheon, accordingly, when the other two had settled themselvesinto the chimney-corner and had started a heated argument on the subjectof EELS, the Badger lighted a lantern and bade the Mole follow him.Crossing the hall, they passed down one of the principal tunnels, andthe wavering light of the lantern gave glimpses on either side of roomsboth large and small, some mere cupboards, others nearly as broad andimposing as Toad's dining-hall. A narrow passage at right angles ledthem into another corridor, and here the same thing was repeated. TheMole was staggered at the size, the extent, the ramifications of it all;at the length of the dim passages, the solid vaultings of the crammedstore-chambers, the masonry everywhere, the pillars, the arches, thepavements. 'How on earth, Badger,' he said at last, 'did you ever findtime and strength to do all this? It's astonishing!'
'It WOULD be astonishing indeed,' said the Badger simply, 'if I HADdone it. But as a matter of fact I did none of it--only cleaned out thepassages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There's lots moreof it, all round about. I see you don't understand, and I must explainit to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where the Wild Wood wavesnow, before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it nowis, there was a city--a city of people, you know. Here, where we arestanding, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept, and carried ontheir business. Here they stabled their horses and feasted, from herethey rode out to fight or drove out to trade. They were a powerfulpeople, and rich, and great builders. They built to last, for theythought their city would last for ever.'
'But what has become of them all?' asked the Mole.
'Who can tell?' said the Badger. 'People come--they stay for a while,they flourish, they build--and they go. It is their way. But we remain.There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that same city evercame to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are an enduringlot, and we may move out for a time, but we wait, and are patient, andback we come. And so it will ever be.'
'Well, and when they went at last, those people?' said the Mole.
'When they went,' continued the Badger, 'the strong winds and persistentrains took the matter in hand, patiently, ceaselessly, year after year.Perhaps we badgers too, in our small way, helped a little--who knows?It was all down, down, down, gradually--ruin and levelling anddisappearance. Then it was all up, up, up, gradually, as seeds grewto saplings, and saplings to forest trees, and bramble and fern camecreeping in to help. Leaf-mould rose and obliterated, streams in theirwinter freshets brought sand and soil to clog and to cover, and incourse of time our home was ready for us again, and we moved in. Upabove us, on the surface, the same thing happened. Animals arrived,liked the look of the place, took up their quarters, settled down,spread, and flourished. They didn't bother themselves about thepast--they never do; they're too busy. The place was a bit humpyand hillocky, naturally, and full of holes; but that was rather anadvantage. And they don't bother about the future, either--the futurewhen perhaps the people will move in again--for a time--as may very wellbe. The Wild Wood is pretty well populated by now; with all the usuallot, good, bad, and indifferent--I name no names. It takes all sorts tomake a world. But I fancy you know something about them yourself by thistime.'
'I do indeed,' said the Mole, with a slight shiver.
'Well, well,' said the Badger, patting him on the shoulder, 'it was yourfirst experience of them, you see. They're not so bad really; and wemust all live and let live. But I'll pass the word around to-morrow, andI think you'll have no further trouble. Any friend of MINE walks wherehe likes in this country, or I'll know the reason why!'
When they got back to the kitchen again, they found the Rat walking upand down, very restless. The underground atmosphere was oppressing himand getting on his nerves, and he seemed really to be afraid that theriver would run away if he wasn't there to look after it. So he had hisovercoat on, and his pistols thrust into his belt again. 'Come along,Mole,' he said anxiously, as soon as he caught sight of them. 'We mustget off while it's daylight. Don't want to spend another night in theWild Wood again.'
'It'll be all right, my fine fellow,' said the Otter. 'I'm coming alongwith you, and I know every path blindfold; and if there's a head thatneeds to be punched, you can confidently rely upon me to punch it.'
'You really needn't fret, Ratty,' added the Badger placidly. 'Mypassages run further than you think, and I've bolt-holes to the edgeof the wood in several directions, though I don't care for everybody toknow about them. When you really have to go, you shall leave by one ofmy short cuts. Meantime, make yourself easy, and sit down again.'
The Rat was nevertheless still anxious to be off and attend to hisriver, so the Badger, taking up his lantern again, led the way along adamp and airless tunnel that wound and dipped, part vaulted, part hewnthrough solid rock, for a weary distance that seemed to be miles. Atlast daylight began to show itself confusedly through tangled growthoverhanging the mouth of the passage; and the Badger, bidding thema hasty good-bye, pushed them hurriedly through the opening, madeeverything look as natural as possible again, with creepers, brushwood,and dead leaves, and retreated.
They found themselves standing on the very edge of the Wild Wood. Rocksand brambles and tree-roots behind them, confusedly heaped and tangled;in front, a great space of quiet fields, hemmed by lines of hedges blackon the snow, and, far ahead, a glint of the familiar old river, whilethe wintry sun hung red and low on the horizon. The Otter, as knowingall the paths, took charge of the party, and they trailed out on abee-line for a distant stile. Pausing there a moment and looking back,they saw the whole mass of the Wild Wood, dense, menacing, compact,grimly set in vast white surroundings; simultaneously they turned andmade swiftly for home, for firelight and the familiar things it playedon, for the voice, sounding cheerily outside their window, of the riverthat they knew and trusted in all its moods, that never made them afraidwith any amazement.
As he hurried along, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would be athome again among the things he knew and liked, the Mole saw clearly thathe was an animal of tilled field and hedge-row, linked to the ploughedfurrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of evening lingerings,the cultivated garden-plot. For others the asperities, the stubbornendurance, or the clash of actual conflict, that went with Nature in therough; he must be wise, must keep to the pleasant places in which hislines were laid and which held adventure enough, in their way, to lastfor a lifetime.
THEY waited patiently for what seemed a very long time, stamping inthe snow to keep their feet warm. At last they heard the sound of slowshuffling footsteps approaching the door from the inside. It seemed, asthe Mole remarked to the Rat, like some one walking in carpet slippersthat were too large for him and down at heel; which was intelligent ofMole, because that was exactly what it was.
There was the noise of a bolt shot back, and the door opened a fewinches, enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinking eyes.
'Now, the VERY next time this happens,' said a gruff and suspiciousvoice, 'I shall be exceedingly angry. Who is it THIS time, disturbingpeople on such a night? Speak up!'
'Oh, Badger,' cried the Rat, 'let us in, please. It's me, Rat, and myfriend Mole, and we've lost our way in the snow.'
'What, Ratty, my dear little man!' exclaimed the Badger, in quite adifferent voice. 'Come along in, both of you, at once. Why, you must beperished. Well I never! Lost in the snow! And in the Wild Wood, too, andat this time of night! But come in with you.'
The two animals tumbled over each other in their eagerness to getinside, and heard the door shut behind them with great joy and relief.
The Badger, who wore a long dressing-gown, and whose slippers wereindeed very down at heel, carried a flat candlestick in his paw and hadprobably been on his way to bed when their summons sounded. He lookedkindly down on them and patted both their heads. 'This is not the sortof night for small animals to be out,' he said paternally. 'I'm afraidyou've been up to some of your pranks again, Ratty. But come along;come into the kitchen. There's a first-rate fire there, and supper andeverything.'
He shuffled on in front of them, carrying the light, and they followedhim, nudging each other in an anticipating sort of way, down a long,gloomy, and, to tell the truth, decidedly shabby passage, into a sort ofa central hall; out of which they could dimly see other long tunnel-likepassages branching, passages mysterious and without apparent end. Butthere were doors in the hall as well--stout oaken comfortable-lookingdoors. One of these the Badger flung open, and at once they foundthemselves in all the glow and warmth of a large fire-lit kitchen.
The floor was well-worn red brick, and on the wide hearth burnt a fireof logs, between two attractive chimney-corners tucked away in the wall,well out of any suspicion of draught. A couple of high-backed settles,facing each other on either side of the fire, gave further sittingaccommodations for the sociably disposed. In the middle of the roomstood a long table of plain boards placed on trestles, with benches downeach side. At one end of it, where an arm-chair stood pushed back,were spread the remains of the Badger's plain but ample supper. Rows ofspotless plates winked from the shelves of the dresser at the far endof the room, and from the rafters overhead hung hams, bundles of driedherbs, nets of onions, and baskets of eggs. It seemed a place whereheroes could fitly feast after victory, where weary harvesters couldline up in scores along the table and keep their Harvest Home with mirthand song, or where two or three friends of simple tastes could sit aboutas they pleased and eat and smoke and talk in comfort and contentment.The ruddy brick floor smiled up at the smoky ceiling; the oaken settles,shiny with long wear, exchanged cheerful glances with each other; plateson the dresser grinned at pots on the shelf, and the merry firelightflickered and played over everything without distinction.
The kindly Badger thrust them down on a settle to toast themselvesat the fire, and bade them remove their wet coats and boots. Then hefetched them dressing-gowns and slippers, and himself bathed the Mole'sshin with warm water and mended the cut with sticking-plaster till thewhole thing was just as good as new, if not better. In the embracinglight and warmth, warm and dry at last, with weary legs propped up infront of them, and a suggestive clink of plates being arranged onthe table behind, it seemed to the storm-driven animals, now in safeanchorage, that the cold and trackless Wild Wood just left outsidewas miles and miles away, and all that they had suffered in it ahalf-forgotten dream.
When at last they were thoroughly toasted, the Badger summoned them tothe table, where he had been busy laying a repast. They had felt prettyhungry before, but when they actually saw at last the supper that wasspread for them, really it seemed only a question of what they shouldattack first where all was so attractive, and whether the otherthings would obligingly wait for them till they had time to give themattention. Conversation was impossible for a long time; and when itwas slowly resumed, it was that regrettable sort of conversation thatresults from talking with your mouth full. The Badger did not mind thatsort of thing at all, nor did he take any notice of elbows on the table,or everybody speaking at once. As he did not go into Society himself,he had got an idea that these things belonged to the things that didn'treally matter. (We know of course that he was wrong, and took too narrowa view; because they do matter very much, though it would take too longto explain why.) He sat in his arm-chair at the head of the table, andnodded gravely at intervals as the animals told their story; and he didnot seem surprised or shocked at anything, and he never said, 'I toldyou so,' or, 'Just what I always said,' or remarked that they ought tohave done so-and-so, or ought not to have done something else. The Molebegan to feel very friendly towards him.
When supper was really finished at last, and each animal felt that hisskin was now as tight as was decently safe, and that by this time hedidn't care a hang for anybody or anything, they gathered round theglowing embers of the great wood fire, and thought how jolly it was tobe sitting up SO late, and SO independent, and SO full; and afterthey had chatted for a time about things in general, the Badger saidheartily, 'Now then! tell us the news from your part of the world. How'sold Toad going on?'
'Oh, from bad to worse,' said the Rat gravely, while the Mole, cockedup on a settle and basking in the firelight, his heels higher than hishead, tried to look properly mournful. 'Another smash-up only last week,and a bad one. You see, he will insist on driving himself, and he'shopelessly incapable. If he'd only employ a decent, steady, well-trainedanimal, pay him good wages, and leave everything to him, he'd get on allright. But no; he's convinced he's a heaven-born driver, and nobody canteach him anything; and all the rest follows.'
'How many has he had?' inquired the Badger gloomily.
'Smashes, or machines?' asked the Rat. 'Oh, well, after all, it's thesame thing--with Toad. This is the seventh. As for the others--you knowthat coach-house of his? Well, it's piled up--literally piled up to theroof--with fragments of motor-cars, none of them bigger than your hat!That accounts for the other six--so far as they can be accounted for.'
'He's been in hospital three times,' put in the Mole; 'and as for thefines he's had to pay, it's simply awful to think of.'
'Yes, and that's part of the trouble,' continued the Rat. 'Toad's rich,we all know; but he's not a millionaire. And he's a hopelessly baddriver, and quite regardless of law and order. Killed or ruined--it'sgot to be one of the two things, sooner or later. Badger! we're hisfriends--oughtn't we to do something?'
The Badger went through a bit of hard thinking. 'Now look here!' he saidat last, rather severely; 'of course you know I can't do anything NOW?'
His two friends assented, quite understanding his point. No animal,according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to doanything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during theoff-season of winter. All are sleepy--some actually asleep. All areweather-bound, more or less; and all are resting from arduous days andnights, during which every muscle in them has been severely tested, andevery energy kept at full stretch.
'Very well then!' continued the Badger. 'BUT, when once the year hasreally turned, and the nights are shorter, and halfway through them onerouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up and doing by sunrise, ifnot before--YOU know!----'
Both animals nodded gravely. THEY knew!
'Well, THEN,' went on the Badger, 'we--that is, you and me and ourfriend the Mole here--we'll take Toad seriously in hand. We'll stand nononsense whatever. We'll bring him back to reason, by force if need be.We'll MAKE him be a sensible Toad. We'll--you're asleep, Rat!'
'Not me!' said the Rat, waking up with a jerk.
'He's been asleep two or three times since supper,' said the Mole,laughing. He himself was feeling quite wakeful and even lively, thoughhe didn't know why. The reason was, of course, that he being naturallyan underground animal by birth and breeding, the situation of Badger'shouse exactly suited him and made him feel at home; while the Rat, whoslept every night in a bedroom the windows of which opened on a breezyriver, naturally felt the atmosphere still and oppressive.
'Well, it's time we were all in bed,' said the Badger, getting up andfetching flat candlesticks. 'Come along, you two, and I'll show you yourquarters. And take your time tomorrow morning--breakfast at any hour youplease!'
He conducted the two animals to a long room that seemed half bedchamberand half loft. The Badger's winter stores, which indeed were visibleeverywhere, took up half the room--piles of apples, turnips, andpotatoes, baskets full of nuts, and jars of honey; but the two littlewhite beds on the remainder of the floor looked soft and inviting, andthe linen on them, though coarse, was clean and smelt beautifully oflavender; and the Mole and the Water Rat, shaking off their garmentsin some thirty seconds, tumbled in between the sheets in great joy andcontentment.
In accordance with the kindly Badger's injunctions, the two tiredanimals came down to breakfast very late next morning, and found abright fire burning in the kitchen, and two young hedgehogs sitting ona bench at the table, eating oatmeal porridge out of wooden bowls. Thehedgehogs dropped their spoons, rose to their feet, and ducked theirheads respectfully as the two entered.
'There, sit down, sit down,' said the Rat pleasantly, 'and go on withyour porridge. Where have you youngsters come from? Lost your way in thesnow, I suppose?'
'Yes, please, sir,' said the elder of the two hedgehogs respectfully.'Me and little Billy here, we was trying to find our way toschool--mother WOULD have us go, was the weather ever so--and of coursewe lost ourselves, sir, and Billy he got frightened and took and cried,being young and faint-hearted. And at last we happened up against Mr.Badger's back door, and made so bold as to knock, sir, for Mr. Badgerhe's a kind-hearted gentleman, as everyone knows----'
'I understand,' said the Rat, cutting himself some rashers from a sideof bacon, while the Mole dropped some eggs into a saucepan. 'And what'sthe weather like outside? You needn't ”sir” me quite so much?' he added.
'O, terrible bad, sir, terrible deep the snow is,' said the hedgehog.'No getting out for the likes of you gentlemen to-day.'
'Where's Mr. Badger?' inquired the Mole, as he warmed the coffee-potbefore the fire.
'The master's gone into his study, sir,' replied the hedgehog, 'and hesaid as how he was going to be particular busy this morning, and on noaccount was he to be disturbed.'
This explanation, of course, was thoroughly understood by every onepresent. The fact is, as already set forth, when you live a life ofintense activity for six months in the year, and of comparative oractual somnolence for the other six, during the latter period you cannotbe continually pleading sleepiness when there are people about or thingsto be done. The excuse gets monotonous. The animals well knew thatBadger, having eaten a hearty breakfast, had retired to his study andsettled himself in an arm-chair with his legs up on another and a redcotton handkerchief over his face, and was being 'busy' in the usual wayat this time of the year.
The front-door bell clanged loudly, and the Rat, who was very greasywith buttered toast, sent Billy, the smaller hedgehog, to see who itmight be. There was a sound of much stamping in the hall, and presentlyBilly returned in front of the Otter, who threw himself on the Rat withan embrace and a shout of affectionate greeting.
'Get off!' spluttered the Rat, with his mouth full.
'Thought I should find you here all right,' said the Otter cheerfully.'They were all in a great state of alarm along River Bank when I arrivedthis morning. Rat never been home all night--nor Mole either--somethingdreadful must have happened, they said; and the snow had covered up allyour tracks, of course. But I knew that when people were in any fix theymostly went to Badger, or else Badger got to know of it somehow, so Icame straight off here, through the Wild Wood and the snow! My! it wasfine, coming through the snow as the red sun was rising and showingagainst the black tree-trunks! As you went along in the stillness, everynow and then masses of snow slid off the branches suddenly with a flop!making you jump and run for cover. Snow-castles and snow-caverns hadsprung up out of nowhere in the night--and snow bridges, terraces,ramparts--I could have stayed and played with them for hours. Here andthere great branches had been torn away by the sheer weight of the snow,and robins perched and hopped on them in their perky conceited way, justas if they had done it themselves. A ragged string of wild geese passedoverhead, high on the grey sky, and a few rooks whirled over the trees,inspected, and flapped off homewards with a disgusted expression; but Imet no sensible being to ask the news of. About halfway across I came ona rabbit sitting on a stump, cleaning his silly face with his paws. Hewas a pretty scared animal when I crept up behind him and placed a heavyforepaw on his shoulder. I had to cuff his head once or twice to get anysense out of it at all. At last I managed to extract from him that Molehad been seen in the Wild Wood last night by one of them. It was thetalk of the burrows, he said, how Mole, Mr. Rat's particular friend,was in a bad fix; how he had lost his way, and ”They” were up and outhunting, and were chivvying him round and round. ”Then why didn't any ofyou DO something?” I asked. ”You mayn't be blest with brains, but thereare hundreds and hundreds of you, big, stout fellows, as fat as butter,and your burrows running in all directions, and you could have takenhim in and made him safe and comfortable, or tried to, at all events.””What, US?” he merely said: ”DO something? us rabbits?” So I cuffed himagain and left him. There was nothing else to be done. At any rate, Ihad learnt something; and if I had had the luck to meet any of ”Them”I'd have learnt something more--or THEY would.'
'Weren't you at all--er--nervous?' asked the Mole, some of yesterday'sterror coming back to him at the mention of the Wild Wood.
'Nervous?' The Otter showed a gleaming set of strong white teeth as helaughed. 'I'd give 'em nerves if any of them tried anything on with me.Here, Mole, fry me some slices of ham, like the good little chap youare. I'm frightfully hungry, and I've got any amount to say to Rattyhere. Haven't seen him for an age.'
So the good-natured Mole, having cut some slices of ham, set thehedgehogs to fry it, and returned to his own breakfast, while the Otterand the Rat, their heads together, eagerly talked river-shop, which islong shop and talk that is endless, running on like the babbling riveritself.
A plate of fried ham had just been cleared and sent back for more, whenthe Badger entered, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and greeted them allin his quiet, simple way, with kind enquiries for every one. 'It mustbe getting on for luncheon time,' he remarked to the Otter. 'Better stopand have it with us. You must be hungry, this cold morning.'
'Rather!' replied the Otter, winking at the Mole. 'The sight of thesegreedy young hedgehogs stuffing themselves with fried ham makes me feelpositively famished.'
The hedgehogs, who were just beginning to feel hungry again after theirporridge, and after working so hard at their frying, looked timidly upat Mr. Badger, but were too shy to say anything.
'Here, you two youngsters be off home to your mother,' said the Badgerkindly. 'I'll send some one with you to show you the way. You won't wantany dinner to-day, I'll be bound.'
He gave them sixpence apiece and a pat on the head, and they went offwith much respectful swinging of caps and touching of forelocks.
Presently they all sat down to luncheon together. The Mole found himselfplaced next to Mr. Badger, and, as the other two were still deepin river-gossip from which nothing could divert them, he took theopportunity to tell Badger how comfortable and home-like it all felt tohim. 'Once well underground,' he said, 'you know exactly where you are.Nothing can happen to you, and nothing can get at you. You're entirelyyour own master, and you don't have to consult anybody or mind whatthey say. Things go on all the same overhead, and you let 'em, and don'tbother about 'em. When you want to, up you go, and there the things are,waiting for you.'
The Badger simply beamed on him. 'That's exactly what I say,' hereplied. 'There's no security, or peace and tranquillity, exceptunderground. And then, if your ideas get larger and you want toexpand--why, a dig and a scrape, and there you are! If you feel yourhouse is a bit too big, you stop up a hole or two, and there you areagain! No builders, no tradesmen, no remarks passed on you by fellowslooking over your wall, and, above all, no WEATHER. Look at Rat, now. Acouple of feet of flood water, and he's got to move into hired lodgings;uncomfortable, inconveniently situated, and horribly expensive. TakeToad. I say nothing against Toad Hall; quite the best house in theseparts, AS a house. But supposing a fire breaks out--where's Toad?Supposing tiles are blown off, or walls sink or crack, or windows getbroken--where's Toad? Supposing the rooms are draughty--I HATE a draughtmyself--where's Toad? No, up and out of doors is good enough to roamabout and get one's living in; but underground to come back to atlast--that's my idea of HOME.'
The Mole assented heartily; and the Badger in consequence got veryfriendly with him. 'When lunch is over,' he said, 'I'll take you allround this little place of mine. I can see you'll appreciate it. Youunderstand what domestic architecture ought to be, you do.'
After luncheon, accordingly, when the other two had settled themselvesinto the chimney-corner and had started a heated argument on the subjectof EELS, the Badger lighted a lantern and bade the Mole follow him.Crossing the hall, they passed down one of the principal tunnels, andthe wavering light of the lantern gave glimpses on either side of roomsboth large and small, some mere cupboards, others nearly as broad andimposing as Toad's dining-hall. A narrow passage at right angles ledthem into another corridor, and here the same thing was repeated. TheMole was staggered at the size, the extent, the ramifications of it all;at the length of the dim passages, the solid vaultings of the crammedstore-chambers, the masonry everywhere, the pillars, the arches, thepavements. 'How on earth, Badger,' he said at last, 'did you ever findtime and strength to do all this? It's astonishing!'
'It WOULD be astonishing indeed,' said the Badger simply, 'if I HADdone it. But as a matter of fact I did none of it--only cleaned out thepassages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There's lots moreof it, all round about. I see you don't understand, and I must explainit to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where the Wild Wood wavesnow, before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it nowis, there was a city--a city of people, you know. Here, where we arestanding, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept, and carried ontheir business. Here they stabled their horses and feasted, from herethey rode out to fight or drove out to trade. They were a powerfulpeople, and rich, and great builders. They built to last, for theythought their city would last for ever.'
'But what has become of them all?' asked the Mole.
'Who can tell?' said the Badger. 'People come--they stay for a while,they flourish, they build--and they go. It is their way. But we remain.There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that same city evercame to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are an enduringlot, and we may move out for a time, but we wait, and are patient, andback we come. And so it will ever be.'
'Well, and when they went at last, those people?' said the Mole.
'When they went,' continued the Badger, 'the strong winds and persistentrains took the matter in hand, patiently, ceaselessly, year after year.Perhaps we badgers too, in our small way, helped a little--who knows?It was all down, down, down, gradually--ruin and levelling anddisappearance. Then it was all up, up, up, gradually, as seeds grewto saplings, and saplings to forest trees, and bramble and fern camecreeping in to help. Leaf-mould rose and obliterated, streams in theirwinter freshets brought sand and soil to clog and to cover, and incourse of time our home was ready for us again, and we moved in. Upabove us, on the surface, the same thing happened. Animals arrived,liked the look of the place, took up their quarters, settled down,spread, and flourished. They didn't bother themselves about thepast--they never do; they're too busy. The place was a bit humpyand hillocky, naturally, and full of holes; but that was rather anadvantage. And they don't bother about the future, either--the futurewhen perhaps the people will move in again--for a time--as may very wellbe. The Wild Wood is pretty well populated by now; with all the usuallot, good, bad, and indifferent--I name no names. It takes all sorts tomake a world. But I fancy you know something about them yourself by thistime.'
'I do indeed,' said the Mole, with a slight shiver.
'Well, well,' said the Badger, patting him on the shoulder, 'it was yourfirst experience of them, you see. They're not so bad really; and wemust all live and let live. But I'll pass the word around to-morrow, andI think you'll have no further trouble. Any friend of MINE walks wherehe likes in this country, or I'll know the reason why!'
When they got back to the kitchen again, they found the Rat walking upand down, very restless. The underground atmosphere was oppressing himand getting on his nerves, and he seemed really to be afraid that theriver would run away if he wasn't there to look after it. So he had hisovercoat on, and his pistols thrust into his belt again. 'Come along,Mole,' he said anxiously, as soon as he caught sight of them. 'We mustget off while it's daylight. Don't want to spend another night in theWild Wood again.'
'It'll be all right, my fine fellow,' said the Otter. 'I'm coming alongwith you, and I know every path blindfold; and if there's a head thatneeds to be punched, you can confidently rely upon me to punch it.'
'You really needn't fret, Ratty,' added the Badger placidly. 'Mypassages run further than you think, and I've bolt-holes to the edgeof the wood in several directions, though I don't care for everybody toknow about them. When you really have to go, you shall leave by one ofmy short cuts. Meantime, make yourself easy, and sit down again.'
The Rat was nevertheless still anxious to be off and attend to hisriver, so the Badger, taking up his lantern again, led the way along adamp and airless tunnel that wound and dipped, part vaulted, part hewnthrough solid rock, for a weary distance that seemed to be miles. Atlast daylight began to show itself confusedly through tangled growthoverhanging the mouth of the passage; and the Badger, bidding thema hasty good-bye, pushed them hurriedly through the opening, madeeverything look as natural as possible again, with creepers, brushwood,and dead leaves, and retreated.
They found themselves standing on the very edge of the Wild Wood. Rocksand brambles and tree-roots behind them, confusedly heaped and tangled;in front, a great space of quiet fields, hemmed by lines of hedges blackon the snow, and, far ahead, a glint of the familiar old river, whilethe wintry sun hung red and low on the horizon. The Otter, as knowingall the paths, took charge of the party, and they trailed out on abee-line for a distant stile. Pausing there a moment and looking back,they saw the whole mass of the Wild Wood, dense, menacing, compact,grimly set in vast white surroundings; simultaneously they turned andmade swiftly for home, for firelight and the familiar things it playedon, for the voice, sounding cheerily outside their window, of the riverthat they knew and trusted in all its moods, that never made them afraidwith any amazement.
As he hurried along, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would be athome again among the things he knew and liked, the Mole saw clearly thathe was an animal of tilled field and hedge-row, linked to the ploughedfurrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of evening lingerings,the cultivated garden-plot. For others the asperities, the stubbornendurance, or the clash of actual conflict, that went with Nature in therough; he must be wise, must keep to the pleasant places in which hislines were laid and which held adventure enough, in their way, to lastfor a lifetime.