The Tale of Jeremy Vole (Stories From the Riverbank) by Stephen Lawhead

Author:Stephen Lawhead [Lawhead, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: s books, water voles, river creatures, children&#8217, animal tales, Stephen Lawhead, river thames, flood warning, oxford, great blue heron, young readers
Publisher: Lawhead Books
Published: 2012-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

One Small Victory

Etty Moorhen lived on a Tesco trolley, in the middle of the canal, directly below Oxpens Bridge. She had made her nest between the wheels of the overturned shopping cart. Some clever rascal had chucked the trolley in the drink and provided the moorhen family with an island home.

A soggy island home at the moment. For Jeremy found the little black moorhen standing in the middle of the trolley, nervously strutting to and fro, and clucking to herself. “Don’t like this one bit!’ she muttered. “Not one little bit, bit, bit.”

“Hello, Etty!” called Jeremy as he swam up.

“That’s as may be,” replied Etty tartly. “Look at my nest! Water’s coming up through the floor! What am I going to do?”

“As it happens,” Jeremy said, clambering up onto the trolley, “that is what IVe come to talk to you about!’

“Talk? That’s all you’re going to do?” The hen clacked her beak in scorn. “Water leaking through the floor and all he wants to do is talk. Fine for you, but where am I to put my eggs? What will become of my brood? Answer me that!”

“Sorry, Etty. There’s not much I can do for you there,” the vole told her. “Besides, I don’t see any brood in your nest at the moment, nor any eggs.”

“Hmmph!” she sniffed, and began strutting and muttering again. “It isn’t time for laying eggs just yet. I’m only getting my nest ready, aren’t I. But how can I do that with water gushing up through the floor? Answer me that!”

“Actually, it’s going to get worse. Much worse. It is a flood, after all. The worst in a hundred years.”

The moorhen flapped her wings crossly. “Oh, thank you very much indeed!”

“No, I mean - “ began Jeremy, but it was a moment before he could get a word in.

“Where are my chicks to sleep? What about my poor little hatchlings? Where am I to lay my eggs? Work my poor tailfeathers off, I do. Have you ever tried keeping body and soul together with a brood to care for? Have you ever tried -”

“Please, Etty, listen. I realize it must be difficult for you. But the point is, it’s going to be a very bad flood. You have to leave the trolley. You can’t stay here. You must move to higher ground.”

The moorhen jerked her head nervously from side to side. “Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” she said, and might have gone on saying it, if Jeremy hadn’t taken a firm hand.

“Now, then, I think we should be going.” He moved to the edge of the overturned trolley.

“But what will happen to me? Where will I live? Where will I go?”

“Don’t worry. You can come back here when the danger is past.”

The little black moorhen strutted here and there, poking into this and that. In the end, she turned to Jeremy and said, “Oh, I don’t know. Let the flood take it all. I’ll make a new nest when I come back.”

“Good girl, Etty,” Jeremy soothed.

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