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With love to Amelie, Ella, Fifi and Ted
and with special thanks to Daniela Maimone,
the world famous balloonist and photographer.
Contents
Dedication
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Also by Ian Whybrow
Copyright
About the Publisher
The behaviour and adventures of the characters in this book are modelled on those of certain actual meerkats still living in the Kalahari. These creatures wish to remain anonymous to protect their privacy. For this reason, their names and their language have been changed. Any similarity between these characters and any meerkat-stars of stage or screen is purely coincidental. Furthermore, any resemblance between Oolooks or Whevubins on safari, actual Click-clicks or Sir David Attenborough is purely in the eye of the beholder.
Ian Whybrow
It was (as you know) a stormy darktime in the Kalahari desert. On the far side of the old kingdom of the Sharpeyes, on the edge of the salt pans, the sky was nasty with fizz-fire and sky-crash.
In one snug chamber the founder members of the Really Mad Mob had rolled together into a ball for warmth. They were the three kits, Skeema, Mimi and Little Dream; and their king and guardian, Uncle Fearless. They were never quite still. The place was jumping with ticks and fleas, so there was a lot of jerking and scratching.
Meanwhile, in another chamber a short distance away, Uncle’s new queen, Radiant, lay awake. Normally she slept well. She was not one for worrying and all that nonsense. She was as warm and hearty and cheery as the sun itself and that is why she was called Radiant. She was tucked up tight in the nursery chamber with her four babies. They were a couple of weeks old now, and tiny, clinging, squirming… and the thing was, they were shivering. Their names were Zora the Snorer, Bundle and Quickpaws. Oh, and Trouble.
This is Trouble.
It was the shivering of the babies that woke Radiant up. Soon she became aware that in spite of her own splendid coat of fur, she was cold herself. She couldn’t think exactly what the matter was, but she sensed danger. By instinct, she sprang to her paws and sounded the Snake Alert. Krrrr! Krrrr! Hi!-Hi!-Hi! Krrrooo! Krrrupp!
Uncle Fearless’s sharp ears twitched and in a split second he too sprang to attention. His one eye flew wide open and he jumped up, rousing the kits and sounding the General Alarm – “Wup-wup! Wup-wup! Action Stations, everyone!”
“Wha-what is it?” cried Mimi. “What’s happening to me, to Mimi?”
“Is it a yellow cobra?” cried Skeema, bristling for a fight. He felt in the darkness for his trusty Snap-snap. To you and me it was a plastic bath-toy crocodile that had been dropped by a small boy on a safari holiday. To Skeema, Snap-snap was the powerful friend and protector he had found on one of his first adventures in the Upworld. He nipped his lime-green tail for luck and made Snap-snap shrill in the darkness. Skweee!
“I dreamed I was up in the sk-sky, flying with the b-birds!” stammered Little Dream, his teeth chattering. “Wh-why is it so c-cold?”
None of the worried wakers could see a thing in the total darkness, but Uncle Fearless was straining his ears.
“Silence!” he ordered.
Uncle ran to the heap of sand that served as the main door to the chamber and tested it with his sensitive nose. “Soaking wet and saturated, by all that creeps and crawls!” he shouted. “The rains must have got into the burrow! Stand by, all paws and claws! Make ready to dam the flood!”
None of the kits knew what a flood was, but they knew better than to chatter. They waited for their orders.
“Quick and tricky, now!” urged Uncle. “Batten down the hatches! There’s water coming down the main tunnel. We must block off this door!”
With the skill and teamwork that comes with hard practice, the kits dug their long, sharp claws into the damp floor
