Meerkat Madness. Ian Whybrow

      In the chamber, three meerkat kits were squeezed up close on their uncle’s lap, because this was in fact a nursery.

      Once Uncle Fearless had been a king; now he was their babysitter. That is the meerkat way when things go badly.

      One of Uncle’s eyes was missing and his fur was a bit patchy and ragged in places. His left arm had an unusual bend in it. “War wounds, what-what!” he would often explain. He had not lost his royal pride.

      This secret nursery was completely dark. Once or twice Uncle had shown the kits how to dig away the thick sand that served as their main door, but there was no light in the tunnels outside. So the kits had not yet seen what their uncle looked like.

      He had just come down from the Upworld with supper. He hadn’t had much time to forage, for a fierce sandstorm was raging outside the safe fortress of the burrow. Still, he had brought them each some worms. And for a treat, there was a plump Flap-Neck Chameleon to share. Delicious!

      “Make us big and strong!” piped Little Dream. He was growing fast but he was by far the smallest of the kits. That meant he was always last in line. He was born a moment or two before his brother and sister, Skeema and Mimi, but they had always treated him like the baby. He often seemed slow, he talked in a strange way, and, to tell the truth, they thought he was a bit dim.

      Uncle wanted the kits to settle down and go to sleep. “For tomorrow,” he promised them, “you must all be ready to leave the nursery and join the rest of the tribe!”

      How they squeaked and squealed and squirmed when they heard that! They weren’t at all sure that they wanted to leave the safe and cosy darkness. It wasn’t easy for Uncle to calm them down, and he had to put on his warning voice before they settled.

      “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll be fun.” He told them that there were some older, more important kits in the burrow; some princes and a princess. Now that Skeema, Mimi and Little Dream were old enough, he was ready to lead them personally along the tunnels to the Upworld and introduce them. And then, if they were very good, they would meet the King and Queen.

      “You’ll be able to see them,” said Uncle. “It’s like smelling with your eyes. The sun will show you how. It’s lovely.”

      “And will we see you?” asked Skeema.

      “Oh, yes. As a matter of fact I look wonderfully handsome in sunlight,” he answered. The kits weren’t sure what that meant. Still, for the moment they were happy just to know that he was there to defend them and that he had a sharp and special smell that they were very fond of. They could not remember their mother, Princess Fragrant. She had been taken by a wild dog when they were just three days old. They could just remember Flower who had nursed them and fed them milk in the very early times. But it was Uncle whom they loved. Even if he did puff himself up, he meant the world to them.

      “Tell Mimi a story,” said Mimi, cuddling up. “Me! Me!”

      “Not just Mimi. Tell all of us!” begged Skeema.

      “Blah-blahs,” said Little Dream.

      “Yes,” said Skeema, “Tell us about the Blah-blahs.”

       Foreword

      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.

       Chapter 1

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