An Otter Called Pebble by Helen Peters

Author:Helen Peters [Helen Peters]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788001571
Publisher: Nosy Crow
Published: 2019-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

By half past five that afternoon, Tom and Jasmine were weary and fed up. They had sniffed a lot of droppings, none of which smelled pleasantly fishy with a hint of jasmine tea. They had found a lot of footprints, all of which, on close inspection, turned out to have been made by dogs or foxes. And, since they had eaten their packed lunches at ten thirty in the morning, they were also very hungry.

“It’s hopeless,” said Jasmine. “We’re never going to find anything. Cruella Sharp was right.”

“She only said the chances were practically non-existent,” said Tom. “She didn’t say they were totally non-existent. So even she admitted we’ve got a chance.”

Jasmine grabbed his arm. “Look!”

“What?”

She pointed across the river. “Do you see that hole in the bank?”

They stared at the opposite bank. “It’s got all the right things for a holt,” said Jasmine. “It’s muddy, and there’s a big old tree stump and a fallen branch at the top of the bank.”

“Let’s investigate,” said Tom.

Fired up with excitement, they ran back to the bridge and hurried along the opposite riverbank until they reached the tree stump. Its lumpy roots protruded from the ground like the toes of some gnarled old giant.

“We should be really quiet,” Jasmine murmured. “If this is where Pebble’s family are living, we don’t want to scare them away.”

They started to search the muddy ground around the tree roots. After a few minutes, Tom whispered, “Jasmine! Footprints!”

He was staring at a patch of bare mud under an oak tree a little way away from the tree stump. Jasmine hurried across and crouched beside him.

“Five toes,” she whispered. “Definitely bigger than a two-pound coin.”

“Could be a badger, though,” said Tom.

He rummaged in his rucksack and took out the crumpled piece of paper with the life-size drawings of animal prints on it.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Ow!” said Jasmine.

Something hard had hit her on the head. She rubbed the sore spot and looked on the ground where the object had fallen. It was a little green acorn.

She looked at the drawings again, and then at the footprints. She turned to Tom and grinned.

“I think they’re otter prints,” she whispered.

“Me too! I’ll take some photos.”

“There should be spraint somewhere,” said Jasmine. “I’ll look.”

As she crouched under the tree, another hard object hit her on the head. Jasmine stared at the green acorn as it fell on the ground.

“Why are acorns falling? They’re not even ripe.”

“Maybe there’s a squirrel up there,” said Tom.

Jasmine rubbed her head, and then snatched her hand away with a cry of pain as another acorn hit her knuckle.

From somewhere in the tree, she heard a muffled noise. It did not sound like a squirrel.

Frowning, she looked up into the leafy canopy. From above her came another sound. A snorting sort of laughing sound.

“Manu! What are you doing?”

“Sshh,” whispered Tom, looking up in alarm. “You’ll scare away the otters.”

A shower of acorns rained down on them. There was a lot of rustling, and then, framed in oak leaves, appeared the grinning faces of Manu and Ben.

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