Beck and the Great Berry Battle Read online

  “Now is our chance,” whispered Uncle Munk. He sprang into action. With the hawk out of the way, he dashed over to the log. He leaped inside and ran to the back.

  “Nan, come with me! You can do it!” he told her.

  With a little encouragement and a lot of shoving, Uncle Munk got Nan out of the log. They ran away as fast as they could. Within seconds, they were safe, hidden behind the trunk of an oak tree.

  “Birdie!” Beck called out. “Birdie, they’re clear!”

  Birdie heard Beck’s call and knew that Nan was safe. So when the hawk pounced again, she took to the air. This time, she sped away.

  The confused hawk watched her fly out of his reach. Then, remembering the trapped little chipmunk, he flew back to the log. Peering inside, he saw that Nan was gone. He checked on both sides of the log to make sure she wasn’t hiding nearby. He looked around for other prey. But all the animals and Beck were safely out of sight.

  Out of ideas, the hawk gave up and flew away.

  All around the clearing, the animals breathed sighs of relief. They had outwitted the hawk. They had saved Nan and Twitter.

  And they had done it by working together.

  THE ANIMALS STAYED hidden for a few minutes to make sure the coast was really clear. Then, one by one, chipmunks, mice, hummingbirds, sparrows, chickadees, moles, and cardinals came out of their hiding places. Slowly and warily, they gathered in the clearing. They made a wide circle around Nan and Twitter, Uncle Munk, Birdie, and Beck.

  “Are you two all right?” Beck asked the youngsters. They looked unharmed. But Beck could sense that they were still getting over their fear—especially Nan.

  “I’m okay,” Twitter replied.

  He was strangely calm—none of his usual flitting around. Maybe this real emergency had sapped all his nervous energy, thought Beck. If so, the change was sure to be temporary. Beck expected he’d be back to his old excitable self in no time.

  “Are you okay, Nan?” Twitter asked his new friend. Beck translated for him.

  Nan nodded but didn’t speak.

  “She’ll be fine,” Uncle Munk said cheerfully. He looked up at Birdie. “And it’s thanks to you, old bird. What would we have done if you hadn’t stepped in and saved her?” Uncle Munk looked down at the ground bashfully. “You risked everything for Nan. How can we thank you?”

  Beck told Birdie what Uncle Munk had said. Birdie brushed off the praise with a backhand wave of her wing. “Nonsense,” she replied. “You’re the one who got Twitter safely out of that log. You are due as much credit as I am.” She turned to Beck. “And you! What if you hadn’t been here, Beck? We were all so wrapped up in our”—Birdie paused—“argument. We might not have seen that the little ones were in trouble…until it was too late.”

  Beck smiled a big smile. Her glow flared with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Oh, don’t mention it,” she said. But secretly, Beck was very glad to think she might have been of some help. Especially after days and days of trying to end the Berry Battle—with no luck.

  “I’m just glad this whole thing is over,” Beck said with a chuckle. She looked at Uncle Munk. She looked at Birdie. Her chuckle trailed off. “It is over, isn’t it?” she asked them, first in Chipmunk, then in Bird. “The Berry Battle, I mean.”

  Birdie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well,” she said, “there is the small matter of the nest.” She looked over at Uncle Munk. “The missing nest, that is. I do think it would be nice if they would return it.”

  Uncle Munk stared at Beck with wide eyes while she translated. “But we didn’t even take that nest!” he cried. “Honestly! I don’t know why they think we did.”

  Birdie squinted at Uncle Munk. She was trying to decide whether she believed him. Uncle Munk stared back at her. Beck hovered nervously between them. Oh, no, she thought. Here we go again.

  No one spoke for many long moments. The whole clearing was silent. All the other animals waited to hear what would happen next.

  Then, on the outer ring of the circle of animals, there was a slight commotion.

  “Oh, pardon me,” came a friendly voice from the midst of the hubbub.

  Beck watched as the animals in that area shifted suddenly to the left and to the right. They seemed to be clearing a path for someone.

  “Oh, excuse me,” said the voice. “Oof! Pardon me. Oh! Bit of a gathering here, eh?”

  The front row of animals parted. Out from behind them strolled old Grandfather Mole. He had stumbled and bumped his way through the crowd. Now, moseying past Beck, he tipped his hat. “Good day, sir!” he said to her. “Somewhat crowded in the forest today, isn’t it?”

  It took a few moments for Beck to notice that his hat was not a hat at all. It was an upside-down, hollowed-out mass of moss, plant bits, and spiderwebs.

  It was a hummingbird nest.

  “Um, Grandfather Mole?” she called. She flew over and landed facing him. “If you please,” she said, “where did you get that…thing on your head?”

  All around Beck, the animals realized what it was. They gasped and pointed at Grandfather Mole’s head. Birdie’s beak hung open.

  “What?” Grandfather Mole said. “Do you mean my hat?” He reached up and took it off. He held it out at arm’s length. He squinted at it. “Isn’t it a fine hat? I found it a few days ago. I was out for a walk. I strolled by that blackberry bush over yonder.” Grandfather Mole pointed to the hummingbirds’ bush—the very bush that the missing nest had been in.

  “This hat was on the ground underneath it. Oh, naturally, I looked around to see if anyone might have dropped it. But there was no one in sight. So I picked it up and tried it on. It fit perfectly!” He put the nest back on his head. “See?” he said, modeling it for Beck. “I’m wearing it out for the first time this afternoon. With all this strange weather we’ve been having, it’s come in very handy,” Grandfather Mole added.

  Beck could not believe her ears. She looked over at Birdie and Uncle Munk. They seemed equally amazed. Could it be? Had the nest actually just fallen out of the bush? Had Grandfather Mole had it the whole time? Had the forest really been divided over a silly misunderstanding?

  “Well, good day to you,” said Grandfather Mole as he continued on his walk. He strolled out of the clearing. The animals watched him walk away with a hummingbird nest on his head.

  Then, suddenly, Beck and all the animals—hummingbirds, chipmunks, moles, mice, sparrows, chickadees, and cardinals—began to laugh.

  They laughed because they hadn’t laughed in days. They laughed at their memories of each other dripping in berry juice. They laughed from relief that it was over. And they laughed because Grandfather Mole looked very silly with a nest for a hat.

  Their laughter was so loud that several Never fairies in the Home Tree, a fair distance away, heard the sound.

  It was the sound of the end of the Berry Battle.