danger,” the kits whispered to one another. Still, they knew that you had to be careful not to scare them or they would flap and cry, “Perk! Puck-puck-puck!” If that happened, one of the Tick-tocks would think you were a striped polecat and come running out with a stick.
As if that wasn’t enough, the kits had to face the turning tree that guarded the water. It whirled its arms wildly and rattled and shook. “Take no notice,” said Skeema boldly. “It’s only making threat-noises. Just wait till it’s looking the other way and we’ll sneak past.” And indeed, when the wind changed and the windmill was facing away from them, the kits raced to lap the water that came from deep under the sand.
It happened that as the kits were enjoying a refreshing drink on this particular Christmas Eve, their attention was suddenly caught by a movement in front of the farmhouse, near the fire-pit. The young female Tick-tock and her infant brother (let’s call them Molly and Ajahn) were jumping up and down and clapping their paws together.
Suddenly the Blah-blah papa came running with a loud cry. He had knocked down a young camel-thorn tree as tall as himself and now he lifted it above his head with his mighty arms and shook it at his cubs. As he did so, the mama appeared from the burrow entrance, with a box of bright, shiny things that sparkled in the sun.
“Quick! They’re going to attack!” cried Mimi. “Run!”
“No, wait,” whispered Little Dream. “They’re not after us. Look!”
With a grunt, the papa stood the tree upright by jamming it into the sand, and with many a tick with his tongue, and a clock and a tock, and with many a shriek of delight, the family gathered round it and did something very strange indeed. They began to make a dress for the tree, which dazzled and danced in the breeze, and to hang strange fruit of all shapes and sizes on it!
When they had finished dressing the tree, the adults went away. But then the kits saw another strange sight. The Blah-blah cubs began building a sort of tower out of sand!
“What is it? A nest for termites?” whispered Skeema.
But no. Gradually it became clear that what they were actually making… was some sort of tall Blah-blah like themselves! They dipped their hands into a bucket and began to smooth his skin with water. They made him eyes out of berries and a long red nose out of a pepper. They wound a scarf round his neck, as long and colourful as a rainbow. Finally they popped a bush-hat on his head.
“Look at that!” breathed Skeema, astonished. “We’d better go and tell the others about this!”
The race back to tell the rest of the Really Mads what they had just seen was won by Little Dream. Mimi and Skeema were so keen to be first with the news that they kept charging into each other and tripping each other up.
“Uncle… Uncle!” panted Little Dream, scattering the babies in all directions as he rushed among them.
“By all the paws that drum in the dust…! What is it, Dreamie?” cried Fearless, twisting his head from side to side to make best use of his one good eye. “Is there a rival mob on the rampage?”
“Tick-tocks!” gasped Little Dream. “Bonkers!”
“Tick-tocks?” repeated Uncle.
“Poor little chap. He’s got the jolly old hiccups!” suggested Radiant.
Mimi and Skeema arrived, bickering and rolling over and over.
“Steady! Untangle yourselves!” commanded Uncle. “You’re alarming the babies!” He could see now that there was no danger, but he wasn’t prepared to put up with a lot of nonsense from kits who ought to know better. “Now stop this argy-bargy and tell me what’s going on, or you’ll feel my royal teeth in your tails!”
“Sorry, Uncle Fearless,” panted Skeema. “But the Tick-tocks have gone daft.”
“You won’t believe what they’ve been up to!” gasped Little Dream. “… A tree… wearing sunshine!”
“I beg your pardon? Don’t you mean it was wearing leaves?” asked Radiant.
“They knocked over a tree,” Mimi explained. “Then they made it wear a beautiful dress like the Blah-blah females wear… only all bright and dazzling!”
“Who did, dear?” asked Radiant.
“The Tick-tocks!” said Skeema. “The Blah-blahs-by-the-water! And they weren’t eating leaves off the tree; they were hanging bright things on it!”
“Well, I never!” said Radiant.
“You’ve got no business to go wandering over there!” cried Uncle. He tried to sound stern, but he couldn’t quite keep the admiration out of his voice. “Why, you might have been pounced on!”
“There was a star on top!” said Little Dream.
“So bright!” said Mimi, her voice full of wonder. “It must have fallen from the sky in the darktime.”
“And there was a little Vroom-vroom, smaller than me hanging down from it like a fruit,” said Skeema. “And they hung other things on the branches… like… sort of…” Poor Skeema, he couldn’t think how to explain a dolly and a whistle and lollipops and a plastic water pistol, so he settled for… “a baby-Blah-blah!”
“A tree in a dress, dear? Growing fruit shaped like a little Vroom-vroom and a baby-Blah-blah? I don’t think so,” came the soft voice of Fragrant, his mama, bounding up to them. “I think you’ve been in the sun too long.” She raised her voice a little to reassure her anxious mate who was on sentry duty on top of the dune behind them.
Just as she did so there was a stuttering roar and a vroom-vroom! from that direction. A moment later, a cloud of red dust floated above the trees.
“Stay put! No danger!” came Broad Shoulders’ instant call. “It’s the Tick-tocks’ mobile escape tunnel – but it’s heading away from us.” He kept up a comforting All-clear call while the others remained in the open.
“What do you make of the Blah-blahs strange behaviour, Fearless?” Radiant asked her husband.
“Well, now! Come to think of it. Just one moment…!” cried Uncle Fearless, puffing up his fur and standing tall. “Aha! I have it! Of course! Why didn’t I think of it before, by all that fogs my royal brain? Now, did I ever tell you about my early adventures among the Blah-blahs, long ago in the old days, when I was King of the Sharpeyes?”
“Very often,” muttered Skeema quietly to himself.
“Do
