Beck and the Great Berry Battle Page 3

  Fawn frowned and shook her head. “Nothing good,” she replied. “I just came from the hummingbird camp. They’re still at it. No sign of either side letting up.” Then Fawn’s face brightened. “But now that I think of it, there is one piece of good news.”

  Beck’s glow flared from her excitement. “I could use some cheering up,” she replied eagerly. “What is it?”

  “You know the chipmunks’ plan to tunnel their way to the blackberry bushes?” Fawn asked. “Well, that plan backfired.”

  Beck looked confused. “What do you mean ‘backfired’?” she asked Fawn. “What happened?”

  Just then, they heard a muffled scratching sound. It was coming from the tunnel that led north out of the fox den.

  Fawn nodded in the direction of the sound. “That will answer your question,” she told Beck.

  Puzzled, Beck flew over to the tunnel opening. She peered down the dim passage. The sound was getting louder…and closer.

  As Beck peered farther into the tunnel, a large paw suddenly punched through the floor. It tore at the edges of the hole it had created, widening the opening. Then a furry head with a longish snout and tiny, beady eyes poked into the tunnel and looked around.

  It was Grandmother Mole.

  She spotted Beck and Fawn hovering in the doorway to the fox den.

  “Oops!” said Grandmother Mole. She turned to talk to someone behind her. “Back up! Retreat!” she said. “False report! This isn’t a chipmunk tunnel. It’s the fairies’ tunnel. Abort mission! Repeat: abort mission!”

  Beck was bewildered. She had no clue what kind of “mission” Grandmother Mole was leading. But she had a hunch it had something to do with the Berry Battle. And that could mean only one thing.

  The moles had taken sides.

  BECK’S HUNCH TURNED out to be right. The moles had sided with the hummingbirds in the Berry Battle.

  “But why?” Beck asked Grandmother Mole. She and Fawn hovered on either side of the old mole in the dim tunnel. “Why would you want to get mixed up in all this?”

  Grandmother Mole snorted. “Well,” she said, “we didn’t want to. But then those nasty chipmunks started digging all over the place. They started tunneling around all the blackberry bushes in Pixie Hollow. They bulldozed right through our tunnels. That’s not nice. Plus, they caused a lot of damage. Our tunnels had to be fixed after the chipmunks plowed through.” Grandmother Mole shrugged. “We had to do something.”

  From the look on Fawn’s face, Beck could tell she already knew what that “something” was. Beck was afraid to ask. But she asked anyway. Grandmother Mole explained how the moles had been… fiddling with the chipmunks’ tunnels.

  “When they quit digging for the day, we build lots of side tunnels off their tunnels,” she said. “They come back the next day, and they get confused. They can’t figure out where they left off.” Grandmother Mole stifled a giggle. “We’ve got them so turned around, they don’t know which way is up.”

  Beck sighed. She didn’t like the fact that there were now more animals involved in the Berry Battle. She shook her head slowly.

  “So now it’s the hummingbirds and the moles against the chipmunks,” she said sadly.

  At Beck’s side, Fawn cleared her throat. “Actually, Beck,” she said, “now it’s the hummingbirds and the moles against the chipmunks and the mice.”

  Beck hurried on to the chipmunks’ camp near Uncle Munk’s home. She didn’t want to believe what Fawn had said: that the mice had entered the war, too.

  But when Beck reached the chipmunks’ camp, she found that it was true. Little Nan, the young chipmunk whom Beck had seen diving for cover into Uncle Munk’s home a few days earlier, brought her up to date. Nan was a very shy, quiet little chipmunk. She didn’t speak much to the other chipmunks—let alone to the Never fairies. So when she and Beck had first met, many moons before, it had taken Beck a long time to win Nan’s trust.

  Now, however, little Nan felt as comfortable with Beck as she did with her own family.

  “The hummingbirds accidentally hit a baby mouse with a berry,” Nan explained to Beck. “Oh, they’ve hit plenty of other mice. Their aim is not always so good, you know. But this was a baby. The poor thing was completely drenched—and scared. After that, the mice took our side.”

  Beck pulled Nan aside, away from the worst of the fighting. They sat in the shelter of a hollow log. From there, they could see the animals battling it out.

  It wasn’t a pretty scene. To their left, the hummingbirds launched berries from the blackberry bush. To their right, chipmunks filled the branches of a hawthorn tree. Mice scurried to and fro in the clearing between. They collected any berries that fell to the ground still intact. Then, scurrying into the hawthorn tree, they passed those berries off to the chipmunks. The chipmunks balanced those on their tails. Then they flung them back at the hummingbirds.

  Beck pointed at a sparrow flying toward the chipmunks in the hawthorn tree. He was carrying a berry in his beak.

  “What’s that sparrow doing?” Beck wondered aloud.

  Nan followed Beck’s gaze. “Oh,” she replied. “I forgot to mention: the sparrows are on the hummingbirds’ side. So are the chickadees and the cardinals.”

  Beck peered up into the air. Flocks of birds were dive-bombing the hawthorn tree. Berries were flying and falling everywhere. The Berry Battle was getting completely out of hand!

  In the midst of it all, little Twitter flew right past Beck and Nan. He was so busy dodging falling berries that he didn’t see them.

  “Twitter!” Beck called out to him.

  Twitter looked around, trying to figure out who was calling him.

  “Over here!” Beck called. “Inside the log!”

  Twitter saw her and flew over to the hollow log. He landed inside, next to Beck. “Whew!” he said, shaking some berry juice off one wing. “It’s g-g-getting harder and harder to g-g-get around out there!”

  That was when Twitter looked up. He saw Nan standing on the other side of Beck.

  “Oh!” said Twitter, staring at Nan. “It’s a ch-ch-chipmunk!” he said to Beck.

  Beck smiled. She stepped out of the way so that Twitter and Nan could face each other.

  “That’s right, Twitter,” said Beck in Bird. “It’s a chipmunk. Her name is Nan.” Beck turned and spoke in Chipmunk to Nan. “Nan, this is Twitter.”

  There was a long, awkward silence. Twitter stared at Nan. Nan stared at Twitter. Their families were fighting against each other. They both felt as if maybe they should be fighting. Maybe that was what they were supposed to do.

  But what do you know? Neither of them particularly felt like fighting.

  BECK WATCHED TWITTER and Nan eye each other curiously. When their eyes met, they both looked away bashfully. Twitter stared at the ground. Nan tugged at her ear. Then, slowly, their gazes crept toward each other again.

  It was Twitter who asked the first question. “Where does she live?” he chirped at Beck.

  Beck pointed to the east. “Over there,” she replied. “Past the hawthorn tree, over the stream, in a little burrow.”

  “Where does he live?” Nan asked Beck.

  Beck pointed west. “In a big mulberry bush over that way.”

  “Is he your friend?” asked Nan.

  “Yes, he is,” replied Beck. “And guess what? He loves to play hide-and-seek.” Beck knew that Nan also loved to play hide-and-seek. And she knew that no one had played any games at all since the Berry Battle had begun.

  “Really? Do you think he’d play hide-and-seek with me?” Nan asked shyly.

  Beck turned to Twitter. “Nan wants to know if you’ll play hide-and-seek with her,” she said.

  Twitter jumped a few inches off the ground and hovered in midair. “Yeah!” he replied. He was so excited, he flew an upside-down loop. Beck didn’t have to translate that. Nan understood. She put her paws over her eyes. Twitter flew down to the other end of the log and hid behind a leaf. Nan opened her eyes and starte
d looking. Just as she reached the leaf that Twitter was hiding behind, he popped up and flew off to the other side of the hollow log. Nan followed him.

  Beck giggled as she watched them go. Twitter and Nan were so excited about making friends, they had forgotten all about her. She turned and looked out toward the berry battlefield. She sighed. If only the grown-up animals could put aside their differences as easily as the young ones, she thought.

  In the distance, she spotted Terence, a fairy-dust-talent sparrow man. He was struggling to fly through the shower of berries. In his arms he carried a dried minipumpkin canister full of fairy dust.

  Terence gave out the daily doses of fairy dust to the Never fairies. Each fairy got one level teacupful every day. It was an important job. Without fairy dust, fairies could only fly about a foot at a time. But with fairy dust, they could fly as long and as far as they wanted.

  Beck guessed that Terence was on his way back to the Home Tree from the mill. He was trying to dodge berries as he flew. Beck took off to see if she could help him. But as she did, she saw a large berry fall right on Terence’s canister and knock it out of his hands. The canister fell to the ground. Fairy dust spilled everywhere.

  “Oh, Terence,” Beck said when she reached his side. “Are you all right?”

  Terence looked very unhappy. “I’m fine,” he answered glumly. “But this fairy dust is wasted.” He looked down at the glittery powder on the forest floor. Beck followed his gaze. A thin layer of fairy dust had fallen on an anthill. As she watched, all the ants that had been sprinkled with dust took to the air and flew around. Then she noticed a couple of spiders and an earthworm hovering in the air next to her.

  Beck couldn’t help laughing at the strange sight. “At least someone’s getting some use out of it,” she said.

  Terence wasn’t amused. “Yeah,” he said. “But now—Oh, watch out!” He pulled Beck out of the path of a falling blackberry. “Now I have to make another trip back to the mill.” He sighed a heavy sigh. “I’ll tell you, Beck. This Berry Battle is out of control!”

  “You don’t know the half of it!” Beck replied. She told Terence about the moles, the mice, the sparrows, the chickadees, and the cardinals. “Now they’re all mixed up in this silly spat, too!”

  Terence shook his head in disbelief. “What do you think would get them to stop fighting?” he asked.

  At that very moment, Beck heard Nan and Twitter—or felt them with her animal-talent sense. Later, she couldn’t exactly say which. Had she heard their cries for help? Or had she just sensed that they were in grave danger? Either way, she knew without a doubt that she had to find them. They needed her—and fast!

  Beck wheeled around. She squinted to see across the clearing. Her eyes found the hollow log where she had last seen the youngsters. What she saw made her gasp aloud.

  A large hawk was perched atop the log. He bent over to poke his sharp beak into the hollow interior.

  Hiding inside the log, cornered, were Twitter and Nan.

  BECK SPRANG INTO action. She flew straight for the hawk, across the berry battlefield.

  “Hold your fire!” she shouted in both Bird and Chipmunk as she flew down the front lines of the Berry Battle. “I repeat, hold your fire!”

  Beck knew she couldn’t fight off the hawk herself. She would need help—and lots of it. But none of the chipmunks or hummingbirds had seen that Nan and Twitter were in trouble. So as she flew, Beck waved her arms wildly. She threw herself in front of flying berries. She did everything she could think of to get the animals’ attention.

  She pointed at the hawk. “Stop fighting and look!” she shouted.

  Slowly but surely, the warring animals noticed Beck. Hummingbirds and chipmunks alike froze in the middle of berry launches. A few moles who had popped up from underground watched Beck fly by. Mice looked up from their berry-collection duties. Sparrows, chickadees, and cardinals circled in the air. They were curious to see what Beck was shouting about.

  They all looked where she was pointing.

  They saw the hawk. And they saw Nan and Twitter.

  All at once, the Berry Battle came to a halt.

  Beck reached the log first. Now she could see why Twitter and Nan were cornered. The hawk had smashed in one end of the hollow log, blocking the exit. That left only the one open end, which he was guarding. He was hunched over, peering upside down into the log. He couldn’t go in after the young animals. The log was too small. Instead, he waited for them to try to escape.

  Beck didn’t stop to think. She swooped past the hawk’s face, flying dangerously close to his curved beak. She got his attention. She flew up, behind his head. The hawk sat upright as his eyes followed her. She circled his head. She didn’t really have a plan. She just hoped to draw his attention away from the youngsters. If she could distract him long enough, maybe they could get away.

  The hummingbirds saw what Beck was trying to do and caught on. Within moments, dozens of hummingbirds swarmed around the hawk. They poked at the top of his head with their long, pointy beaks. They flew in front of his face, zigging and zagging.

  Their tactics had an effect. The hawk was getting mad. He lunged at a hummingbird and snapped his beak just millimeters from her wing. He flapped his wings out wide, as if trying to shoo the tiny birds and the fairy away. The wind from the hawk’s flapping blew some hummingbirds off course. A few others were hit by his wings and knocked to the ground. They sat there dazed for a moment before they were able to get up and take to the air again.

  But through it all, the hawk didn’t budge from the log.

  Other birds moved in to take the place of the hummingbirds. Sparrows, chickadees, and cardinals circled over the hawk’s head. Then, one by one, they dive-bombed the hawk with berries. Many made direct hits. Several berries hit the hawk on the head. One hit him right between the eyes.

  But the berries didn’t bother the hawk. He barely noticed them. They were tiny to a bird of his size. In fact, even as the birds dropped berries on him, the hawk went back to peering into the log.

  The animals had to find another way to distract him!

  The chipmunks launched the next attack. They scurried onto tree branches hanging directly over the log. Then, throwing caution to the wind, two chipmunks dove onto the back of the hawk’s head. He stood bolt upright on the log. He raised his right wing and brushed at his head, trying to get the chipmunks off. The chipmunks clung for dear life. As long as they could hang on to the back of the bird’s head, they were safe from his sharp beak and talons.

  Meanwhile, behind the hawk’s back, Uncle Munk had sneaked up to the log. Hugging one side of it, he crept closer and closer to the open end. Now, while the hawk was distracted, he scurried up to the opening. He peeked around the corner and into the log.

  “Psst!” he whispered to Nan and Twitter. “Come on! Follow me! The coast is clear. But we don’t have much time!”

  Even though he couldn’t understand Uncle Munk’s words, Twitter zipped forward.

  But Nan didn’t follow.

  “Nan!” Uncle Munk whispered to her from the end of the log. “Come on! Now’s our chance!”

  Nan was frozen with fear. She couldn’t move. She huddled against the back of the log, trembling, her eyes wide.

  “You go ahead!” Uncle Munk whispered to Twitter, waving him on. Twitter hesitated. He looked back and forth from Nan to Uncle Munk. He didn’t want to leave his new friend behind. But Uncle Munk was a grown-up. Twitter felt he should do what Uncle Munk wanted.

  So Twitter flitted past Uncle Munk and out of the log. The hawk, still trying to shake the chipmunks off his head, didn’t even see him fly past. Within seconds, Twitter was safe. He landed on a blackberry branch. The hummingbirds flocked to him to make sure he was okay.

  “I’m f-f-fine,” he told everyone. “But Nan…”

  Nan was still trapped inside the log. Uncle Munk stood at the opening, trying to convince her to make a break for it.

  “You can do it, Nan,” Beck
heard Uncle Munk say. “Just put one paw in front of the other. Come toward me.”

  He was so focused on Nan, he didn’t notice that the hawk had shaken the chipmunks off. They ran for cover as the giant bird turned back to the log. He spotted Uncle Munk.

  Beck and all the animals gasped.

  “Uncle Munk!” Beck called. “Run!”

  Uncle Munk heard Beck. He looked up. The hawk’s eyes were glued to him. The bird leaned in. His shadow fell over Uncle Munk. Then, in one sudden, lightning-fast movement, the hawk lunged at Uncle Munk. The chipmunk dodged the bird’s hooked beak, wheeled around, and scurried away.

  The hawk leaned over to look inside the log once more. Seeing Nan still there, he settled down to wait her out. He showed no sign of giving up.

  The animals had to try something else. Birdie the hummingbird had an idea. As Beck had done, she swooped past the hawk’s face to get his attention. Then she landed on the ground a few feet in front of the log. She hopped along, dragging one wing behind her. The hawk watched her, cocking his head. He leaned forward to get a closer look.

  “She’s pretending she’s hurt!” Beck said to Uncle Munk. “She’s figuring that hawks go for the easiest prey first. Young animals are easy targets. But injured animals are even easier. She’s trying to lure the hawk off the log—to get him to go for her.”

  What Birdie was doing was terribly dangerous. She was risking her own life to save Nan’s.

  Beck and Uncle Munk watched as Birdie turned her back on the hawk. Slowly, slowly, she hopped away from the log. The hawk leaned over again to look in at Nan. Then he looked up at Birdie. He looked back and forth between his two choices of prey. He seemed torn—between the trapped chipmunk he couldn’t reach and the hurt hummingbird inching away from him. He had to decide.

  The hawk spread his wings and leaped off the log. He soared the short distance to Birdie and got ready to drop onto the little bird. But at the last possible moment, Birdie took to the air. She flew a few feet, landed again, and continued hopping along, dragging her wing. The hawk flew after her and pounced again. Again, Birdie took off at the last second. She flew several feet, landed, and hopped. The hawk followed her.