Four

A pale moon was floating over Blossom Valley when George and his fellow crows came down to the gathering.

“Some of us flock up on the elm tree,” said Alphie, one of the younger crows. “You’ll find others by the white rock where Speedo the snail tells them stories. And if you hear screams and cheers, it’ll be the crows and rabbits kicking the conker, on a stretch of trimmed grass we call the Football Clearing. You’ll find it by the cluster of chestnut trees. Have a wander around, George. There’s a lot to see.”

“I’ll do just that. Thanks, Alphie,” said George and trotted off.

Squabbling loudly, the blackbirds flocked up onto the elm tree and kept on bickering among themselves until the wrens flew in. Their sweet evening trills drifted across the valley and all the creatures fell silent, enjoying the tranquillity of the dusk. Only Robin Redbreast wouldn’t stop fidgeting. He kept chirping and frolicking from bush to bush.

“Can’t you stay still for five minutes, Robin? You’re giving me a headache watching you,” a pot-bellied sparrow complained in a shrilly chirp. “Relax, like all of us are trying to do.”

Robin drew his feathers tight round him in anger. “Of all birds, to have been insulted by a common sparrow,” he mumbled, but loud enough to be heard. Then he flew away.

Red squirrels and hedgehogs were spread out upon a mossy bank, the squirrels chattering away and munching at the same time, their jaws moving up and down with machine-like precision.

“We can’t understand a word you’re saying,” an old hedgehog grumbled. “Empty your mouth before you talk. No manners!”

“Granny Hedgehog...” A squirrel tried to say something, but Granny Hedgehog, huffing loudly through her nose, was waddling away. She settled with a group of rabbits and watched the tap-dancing rabbits practising for the upcoming tap-dancing competition.

Loud voices and screams were coming from the chestnut trees and George hurried towards them, eager to see how crows could ever manage to play football. He opened his mouth in amazement when he saw them running between the rabbits’ legs, trying to steal the conker and keep it away from their half. The conker suddenly landed on the foot of the black rabbit who gave it an almighty kick and sent it flying towards the crows’ goal post. The crow goal keeper jumped up, stretched out his wings and hit the conker with such force, it raced back and straight into the rabbits’ net.

The crows clapped with their wings, danced, screamed and cheered and George joined them in their excitement.

“I wish you could teach me a few tricks. I’d love to learn the game,” George told the crow goal keeper.

“We’ll be glad to,” he said. “Join us at the training tomorrow or any early afternoon of the week. Call me Ted and you are George. Pleased, to meet you,” said the goal keeper, wiping the sweat that was running down his nose.

On his way down to the pond George stumbled by the white rock and paused to watch the snail who sat on the rock, his feelers bobbing up and down and his tiny eyes sparkling. Just below the rock, on a small patch of soft ground, hedgehogs, squirrels and ants, crows and sparrows were spread, all still and silent, listening, their eyes widening here, narrowing there, then bursting into laughter.

“That’s all until tomorrow,” said the snail. “It’s time we went down to the pond.”

***

“We’re in for some real excitement,” the frog croaked excitedly and everyone’s head turned towards the tall fir tree where Bond, the red squirrel, was tying a vine between two branches at the very top.

“What’s that?” asked George.

“It’s a tightrope,” Conti the frog explained. “Bond and his team will perform acrobatics on it.”

The creatures burst out into wild whistling when Bond stepped on the tightrope, swinging his head and body to a rhythm. He bowed and, flipping a series of backward somersaults, reached the end of the rope and disappeared into the tree. Within seconds he was back on the vine, spinning round and round in a succession of cartwheels, slowly at first, then a little faster, and then with such speed that he became a blurred ball of red fluff.

The spectators erupted into delirious screaming, clapping and stamping, but in the next instant everyone hushed and held their breath. The knots on one end of the vine came undone and Bond was heading for a nasty crash on the rocks that lay on the ground right beneath him. The creatures sprang to their feet, oohing and aahing, for the red squirrel was but a couple of inches away from crashing onto the sharp edges of the jagged rocks. But at the last instant the frayed end of the vine swayed in front of his face. Bond snatched it with his teeth, swung wildly in the air and landed on the ground. He saw Thelma standing close by and Tawny Owl, the nurse, next to her.

“Sorry, if I worried everyone,” he said, then bowed.

In the midst of all the excitement, Conti plunged into his pond, surfaced with a series of spluttering gasps and started his tune. The more excited he got, the louder he sang. Some creatures clapped their wings over their ears.

“Give us some peace, you noisy green beast!” the blackbirds moaned. “It’s been a hard day.”

The frog stopped and leapt close to George. “The other creatures don’t seem to mind my singing,” he sputtered. “It’s them, the blackbirds, always whinging and fussing. It’s in their nature, I’m telling you.”

“I’m sure they didn’t mean your singing isn’t good,” said George, feeling sorry for the frog. “It’s possible they’ve had a hard day, for the sky can be a dangerous place. Predators perhaps, and have you thought that classical tunes may not be everybody’s taste, especially at this hour?”

Conti’s wet eyes, full of sincerity, stared at George.

“I knew you were a kindly and understanding creature the minute I saw you, George,” he said. Then he stretched his neck close to George’s ear. “Weird things are happening and I need to talk to you about them. I tell Thelma. She won’t listen but I know you will. There’re these scary groans and muffled cries I hear in my pond when the moon becomes full, and...”

At that moment Thelma walked across the grass. She raised her hands and spoke. “Good evening everyone.”

“Good evening,” said the voices from across the valley.

“Firstly, I would like all of us to say a welcoming hello to George, the crow, who joined our family today.”

“Hello, George!” everyone shouted.

“Hello, to you all,” George answered.

Then Thelma clapped her hands. “Are all the members of our families here?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“Are there any problems to be discussed?”

“No,” the creatures chorused.

“Then, let us all sing our Good Night Song.”

Every creature threw their heads back and sang.

Our day is about to end

Soon night will descend but only for a short while

Our pale moon will now ride in the sky

To put on her silver dress for the night and switch on the stars

That will twinkle over our valley until the night will glide

Into a dawn joyful and bright

Good night everyone. Sleep tight.

The creatures made their way home while George trotted over to Thelma. He was surprised to see Plato talking to her.

“Hello, George,” said Plato. I can tell you’re settling in and I’m pleased for you.”

“I am,” said George. “How can I ever repay you, Plato?”

“Just be my friend,” he replied, then took to the sky, heading for Penny Wood and his night hunt.