Chapter Seven

Meanwhile, Ooma was telling the aunties about her naughty child.

“One of the first things I told him,” she said, “was to keep away from mice. We all know that every mouse is just waiting for a chance to run up the inside of our trunks.”

“We do,” said the aunties.

“And no doubt you all gave your kids the same warning.”

“We did,” said the aunties.

“And what have I just found? Only my boy with the tip of his trunk right beside a mouse, that’s all. I told him off, I can tell you. No doubt you’d have done the same?”

“We would,” said the aunties.

“Children!” said Ooma. “They just don’t listen.”

“Grown-ups!” said Poppet to Momo at about the same time. “They don’t treat children fairly, grown-ups don’t. I could have explained to Mum if she’d let me. I could have told her, ‘You’re wrong. Mice don’t run up elephants’ trunks. I know. My friend told me.’ But no, I never got the chance. She just yelled at me.”

“I heard it,” said Momo.

“Let’s just hope we’re more understanding when we’re grownups,” said Poppet.

“Actually,” said Momo, “I’m a grown-up already.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize. You’re so … um …”

“Small?”

“Well, yes.”

“Tell you what, Poppet,” said the mouse. “Do you agree that it would be a good thing if elephants stopped being frightened of mice?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And do you agree that it would be a good thing if elephants stopped trying to squash mice?”

“Oh yes, I do.”

“Right then. This is my plan. Listen carefully.”

And so it was that later that day, when the herd had been down to the river to bathe and the elephants were all standing in the shade, resting, Poppet said to Ooma, “Mum, will you promise not to yell at me if I tell you something?”

“Of course I won’t,” said Ooma, who was already rather ashamed of losing her temper with her little one.

“Of course you won’t promise?”

“No. Of course I won’t yell at you.”

“All right then,” said Poppet. “It’s this. Mice do not run up inside elephants’ trunks. They never have and they never will.”

Ooma snorted.

“Come and listen to this,” she called to the aunties, and when they had all gathered round, she made Poppet repeat his words.

“Silly boy,” said one auntie, and, “Stupid child,” said another, and a third said, “You had a narrow escape this morning. You might not be so lucky another time.”

“Wait here, please,” said Poppet, and he disappeared into some bushes. When he emerged again, Ooma and the aunties could see that he was holding something in the tip of his trunk, something furry and brown, with large tulip-shaped ears, beady black eyes and a longish hairless tail – a mouse!