The badger and the boy crawled under the bottom strand of old rusty barbed wire which fenced off the wood and then they were out on to the moonlit fields, walking up the slope at the back of the wood and following the silent shadow in front of them as he turned and flew along the top of the rise. Every so often Warrigal would stop at a convenient tree and wait for the others to catch up and then they would move on again through the night.
As the first rose-pink streaks of dawn appeared on the lightening sky the three were down by the big stream, near the spot where Nab had met the girl. For a time he walked along in silence thinking of her and wondering whether he would ever see her again and then slowly he realized that the countryside around him was strange and new and with a thrill it occurred to him that he was now outside the boundaries of his previous experience. This was further than he had ever been before. He looked around him intently as the morning sun slowly came up beyond the hill away to his left and filled the sky with a brilliant mass of orange and dark flaming reds. The steep-sided valley through which they had followed the stream had now gradually opened out so that they were in a shallow basin with the fields sloping away upwards very gently on either side. There were not many trees now to break up the rolling meadows: only the thick thorn hedges dividing the fields into squares or rectangles and providing refuge and a home for birds and sometimes rabbits. The stream on Nab’s right had now widened slightly and it meandered less, running along its sandy bed almost straight for a while until suddenly for no apparent reason it began once again to twist and curve and water willows sprang up at either side growing thick and dense along the banks. Warrigal stopped at one of these and showed the others where two of the trees had fallen across the stream and so formed a convenient bridge.
‘We go across here,’ said Warrigal. ‘Then we cross two fields and make for that belt of trees you can see straight ahead. Behind those trees lies Ellmondrill. I think you two should stay at the side of the hedges where possible from now on; Urkku may be around and we can’t be too careful. There’s a farm on top of that hill to the right. Can you see it?’
They looked and saw a collection of buildings clustered around the top of the rise in the distance. Then they gingerly inched their way across the fallen willows and set off along the far bank of the stream until they came to a thick hedge which ran in from the field to meet it, and then they turned and moved along the side of this as it took them out into open country.
They travelled like that for the rest of the short winter day, keeping well under cover of hedges and moving slowly, constantly looking round and sniffing the air for scents of danger. The sun shone brightly out of the clear blue sky and the early morning frost soon disappeared, giving way to a day that was so warm that the animals occasionally had to think twice to remind themselves that it was the middle of winter. The feel of the sun and the smells that it produced as it warmed up the ground filled them full of yearning for the spring and, as they walked, Nab and Brock chatted quietly about past springs and their times together. Nab also asked the badger to tell him once again the story of that night so many years ago when Brock had found him in the snow; he never tired of hearing it and it sounded different every time it was told. And when the story was finished there were always endless questions of detail, particularly about the two Urkku who had brought him. Somehow the story always made him feel secure and warm and comforted him whenever he was anxious or worried. It had that effect now and the nervousness which had been building up inside him as they got closer to Ellmondrill subsided and was replaced with a feeling of quiet confidence and certainty.
Around the time of Sun-High they were delayed by a flock of sheep. They had been walking quietly along the hedge of the field in which the sheep were grazing when suddenly, hearing strange sounds and seeing the badger and the boy, they had bolted and an Urkku had come down to the field from the farm on his tractor to investigate. They squeezed through a gap in the hedge and watched him as he drove around the field. His tractor chugged loudly and pushed out puffs of grey smoke which hung in the still air for a long while after he’d gone, growing bigger but less dense so that in the end they became so thin that they disappeared completely.
He drove around the field two or three times and then, having satisfied himself that there was nothing to worry about, he turned his tractor around and drove back up the fields to the farm.
The travellers waited a short time to make certain he wasn’t coming back and to let the sheep settle again, and then they resumed their journey. They had been walking towards the distant trees since early morning and had seemed to be getting no nearer, but now, as the afternoon wore on and the blue sky began to turn grey and wintry, the trees became clearer and more distinct even though a mist had appeared which filled the fields with a grey haze and blurred the outlines of the hedges. The fields now seemed to be smaller and the hedges thicker and soon they found themselves walking along a narrow path bordered on either side by hedges which were so dense that they could see nothing through them. They walked on as if they were in a tunnel towards the patch of grey they could see at the far end until, suddenly, they were out in an open meadow, standing at the top of a steep slope and looking down at a stream which moved restlessly along at the bottom. It chattered and gurgled in the stillness, and beyond it stood Tall Wood, shrouded in the evening mist, dark and impenetrable except for the occasional burst of gold as the evening sun, perched just above it, managed to breach the blanket of mist. The trio stood for a long time, gazing in awe and wonder at this magical sight, until finally Warrigal broke the silence.
‘Come on, ’ he said. ‘We must cross the stream before it gets dark so that we can spend the night in the wood. Once we’re there we are safe and the elves can contact us. Wythen said that we don’t go to them; they will find us. All we must do is simply to be there.’
The owl took off and flew slowly down the slope and the others followed him, too exhilarated to be nervous. As they walked towards the wood the trees loomed out of the mist and seemed to grow taller. It was very damp and the stream rushed along so loudly that they had to shout to be heard. Warrigal was looking for a fallen oak that Wythen had said could be used to get across. They waited while he flew along the stream and then walked along the bank to join him when he indicated that he’d found it. Nab went first, sitting astride the tree and shuffling along with his hands in front to support and steady himself. When he was halfway across he looked down at the stream below him; it was very full after the recent rains and it swirled and eddied along with furious determination and purpose. Then he looked back up and stared into the darkness of the wood ahead of him before gingerly inching his way across the last half of the slippery bridge; the constant damp from the stream had coated the tree with patches of slimy green mould and the mist had made them extremely treacherous so that once or twice the boy almost slipped, but his strong legs managed to hold him on. Finally, with great relief, he arrived on the far bank and stood watching Brock, who was looking extremely precarious as he approached the halfway stage. Brock’s claws would normally have been a great help as they would have sunk through the slimy surface into the bark of the oak but they were still sore and he found it difficult to use them properly. Suddenly, on a particularly bad patch, he began to teeter and in moving his feet to try to obtain a better grip he fell over and plunged with a loud splash into the stream. The sight of the badger toppling into the water struck Nab as so funny that, against all his better instincts, he was unable to stop himself laughing and, when he clambered down the bank to help the badger out of the water and saw the thick coat plastered down around his body, the boy’s laughter only increased until the tears came to his eyes. In fact, he was so busy laughing that he failed to notice the badger manoeuvring himself into position at his side so that when Brock began to shake himself vigorously the first shower of icy cold water that hit him came as a complete surprise and he stood still in a state of shock while Brock soaked him; much to the amusement of Warrigal, who was still standing on the far bank laughing to himself.
