Meerkat Madness Flying High Read online

  “In that case,” he added gently, “we shall just have to make sure we build a splendid new one, shan’t we? Meanwhile, we all know what we must do at this present moment, which is…?”

  “Get some food inside us and Crack On!” came the resounding reply.

  Crack On is the Meerkat Way.

  Chapter 3

  And even as the meerkat breakfast-party cracked on, some miles away, a two-legged creature had decided that soon he would crack on, too.

  A boy, we would call him. And let’s call him Shadow because his apricot skin blended with the colours of the shady grove of trees in the centre of which he stooped, gathering up his things.

  For some weeks he had wandered alone across the vast, scorching centre of the Kalahari Desert. It was a test of how strong he was in body and in spirit. Like all the boys of his tribe, he had to go by himself and face sandstorms and hunger and thirst and treacherous paths and mirages. He had been stalked by wildcats and mobbed by packs of dancing jackals. He had leaped over lunging snakes and felt the sting of porcupine quills. So far, he had come through every test bravely and confidently. And without a map or a companion or any sort of help, he had found his way to an ancient oasis. The Really Mads called the place Green Island.

  On his walkabout, Shadow had witnessed some strange and wonderful things and in his head he was already turning them into stories to tell round the fire when he returned home to his family. His favourites were about the bravery of three little meerkat kits. They were so small that they could have stood altogether in the palms of his hands. Yet by working together, they had saved a lion cub who was helpless, lost and starving. And when the cub was captured by hunters, they had set him free.

  That was the story he most wanted to tell.

  “Soon,” he told himself. “I must go home soon.”

  Chapter 4

  Radiant thoroughly enjoyed the snacks they brought back to the Whiffy Old Scrape for her and they all sat together, happily munching in the sunshine.

  “If you haven’t sucked the juice out of a frill-necked lizard, you haven’t lived!” said Skeema with a satisfied sigh as he smacked his lips.

  Uncle would have agreed, only he had just bitten the head off a barking gecko and he thought it would set a bad example if he talked with his mouth full.

  “A feast, for me, for Mimi!” cried his niece. Her sharp claws had swept aside a mound of damp sand to reveal a clutch of wiggling white larvae. She gobbled them up like sweets.

  “Oh, do hurry up, Mimi!” squeaked Little Dream, who was on top of a drie doring bush taking his turn as look-out. “It’s way past time for you to take over from me!” He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his tired eyes, but only for a moment. Unlike most meerkats, he had been born without the dark eye-patches that protect the sky-watcher from the dazzling rays of the desert sun. Many a suntime ago, he had dug a Safari-man action-doll out of the sand near the pointy mounds where the Blah-blahs camped – far away in the kingdom of the Sharpeyes. He simply could not have managed without Safari-man’s cool-looking eye-wear. And Uncle felt the same about Safari-man’s stylish pith helmet and safari scarf: he never went anywhere without them.

  “Skeema!” said Uncle. “You’re pretty good at the scorpion dance these days! Show the babies how it’s done.”

  “Skeema dance, Skeema dance,” chirped the babies, clambering over each other to get a front-row seat.

  Skeema gave a very nice demonstration of sniffing, listening, turning stones, rapidly moving the sand and… turning up… a scorpion!

  “Nice work, Skeema. Now, babies, watch how he dances him. That’s it, Skeema, dart and dodge. Quick and tricky or he’ll sting your nose!

  Forward-forward – JUMP!

  In-in – and – BACK!

  You see, Zora? Watch Skeema, Quickpaws. Up comes the sting and WHOOPS! – mind-yer-nose! And

  Up comes the sting and WHOOPS! – missed-again! And

  Up comes the sting and BITE-it-right-off! Hooray! Well danced, Skeema! Now give Bundle a taste of what you caught. Nice, Bundle? Yum-yum-scrummy, eh? Just wait your turn, Trouble. Trouble! Don’t throw sand on Bundle. TROUBLE! Now look. You’ve buried him! You’ve made him cough. That’s not nice, is it? No, and it’s not funny!”

  There was the sound of uncontrollable laughter overhead, followed by a thud and a squeal from Little Dream.

  “Here’s a riddle for you, Skeema,” said Mimi. “What goes Ha-Ha-Plop-Ouch?”

  “Easy,” said Skeema. “A sentry with the giggles, falling off his perch.”

  “I’ll get you for that!” yelled Little Dream and chased him round the trunk of the shepherd tree. Mimi sensibly decided that now was a good moment for the changing of the guard and whizzed up out of harm’s way to take Skeema’s place.

  “Come along, babies,” cooed Radiant, ignoring the kits. “Mummy find you a lizard to lick and then off we all go and have a nice nap in the shade.”

  The Really Mad meerkats stretched out in the shadow of the drie doring bush, their bellies nicely full. Radiant lay with her eyes closed, nibbling at a grasshopper. “What a smashing breakfast,” she murmured. “Absolutely super. Only…”

  “Only what, my beauty?” asked Uncle. “You know I can refuse you nothing.”

  “Your Majesty is too kind!” laughed Radiant. “It’s just that I’m a tiny bit concerned that we haven’t got enough—”

  “Termite larvae?” suggested Skeema.

  “Giant millipedes?” put in Little Dream.

  “Millipedes, millipedes!” chimed Trouble, and the other babies joined in the chorus.

  “No, no! I’ve had plenty to eat, thank you all,” said Radiant. “It’s just that, well, apart from the fact that we don’t have a proper burrow to call our own, there’s something else we’re short of. The fact is, there just aren’t enough Really Mads to keep us all safe.”

  “But, my dear…!” spluttered Uncle. “I honestly think I’ve done a jolly good job of—”

  “Hear me out, please,” interrupted Radiant. “Just think how much easier things would be in an emergency if there were, well… one or two more of us. I mean, doesn’t it worry you that maybe we haven’t got enough fighters?”

  She paused to attend to one of the babies who was upsetting the others. “No, Trouble, there’s a good bubba! Trouble, that’s not nice! Ugh! Spit that out, dear! I said… Oh, thank you, lovie. But next time, don’t spit things out on to the other babies. Now, Fearless, as I was saying. There were only just enough of us big and biggish ones to rescue the babies from the flood at Far Burrow. So how is our little mob ever going to protect them if a whopping big meerkat army tries to take over New Burrow for themselves?”

  “Schemes!” muttered Skeema. He laid his finger across his nose to show that he was talking about something hush-hush. “Plans. I’m good at them. Plus I’ve got Snap-snap.”

  “And they would have to get past me!” said Mimi, with a flick and a kick and a flash of her feathery headband. “I’m a princess and I don’t take prisoners. Hi-yah!”

  “Jolly nice to know you both have a trick or two up your sleeves,” said Radiant. “And your uncle is wonderfully brave. But what if we’re hugely outnumbered by invaders?”

  “Excuse me,” whispered Little Dream, tugging on Uncle’s tummy-fur. “Is forty meerkat invaders a hugely outnumber?”

  “Well, it’s quite a hugely outnumber. I mean a huge number,” said Uncle. “It’s, um, let me see, now… is it two against one?” He nibbled his bottom lip as he tried to work it out. “Wait! It’s possibly six against one. Why do you ask?”

  “Only because I just counted eighty meerkat eyes peeping over the edge of the sand dune behind us,” explained Little Dream. “And half of eighty is forty. That makes forty meerkats. ”

  “WHA-A-AT?”

  “Oh, no, here they come!” yelled Skeema.

  Chapter 5

  The army of tough-looking meerkat invaders came charging towards the Really Mads at speed.

&n
bsp; They threatened and screeched. “Scram and deliver!” they yelled. “Move over for the Massive Mob! Yer burrow or yer life!”

  “WUP-WUP!” trumpeted Uncle. “ACTION STATIONS! Stand firm, the Really Mads! Battle formation! In line, double-quick, now! Puff out your fur! Big as you can! Tails, Hup! Now quiver ’em! That’s it! Now for the old war-dance and battle-chant. Showy as you like! Loud as you can! Altogether, now – one-and-two-and…”

  With that, he and his brave little band of warriors let rip.

  “BOUNCY, BOUNCY! BOOM-BOOM, CALL!

  STAND UP, TAIL UP! MAKE YERSELF TALL!

  HEAD-BUTT, HEAD-BUTT! STRIKE LIKE A SNAKE!

  SPIT-SPIT-SPIT-SPIT! SHAKY-SHAKE-SHAKE!

  YOU THINK YOU’RE BIG! YOU THINK YOU’RE BAD!

  BUT YOU CAN’T SCARE A REALLY MAD!”

  Oh, the Really Mads did put up a jolly good show! Even the babies bounced up and down and blew bubbles. But the enemy charged nearer and nearer, looking and sounding more bloodthirsty with every leap and bound.

  “No chance! No chance!” the invaders chanted as they galloped towards the Really Mads. And then they all began to jeer.

  “MASSIVE TEETH! MASSIVE CLAWS!

  MUCH MORE BIGGER-ER THAN YOURS!

  HERE’S YOUR WARNIN’ IN ADVANCE –

  YOU AIN’T GOT A FLIPPIN’ CHANCE!”

  “So horribly rude and rough!” cried Radiant. “How in the Upworld are we ever going to stop these ruffians, Fearless?”

  “Stand by to charge!” came his fearless reply.

  The Massive Mob hurled themselves onward, closer and closer…

  And then – in the blink of an eye-wiper… the enemy ran away.

  PHEW!

  Uncle was terribly pleased and proud.

  “Ah, the old war-dance!” he cried, panting triumphantly. “It’s not just a question of numbers, you see, Radiant, my darling. It’s all in the old Boom-boom – you follow? It’s all in the way you shake it!”

  He gave a little demonstration of bottom-waggling. “There!” he boasted. “That’s what puts the wind up the enemy! The rest of you haven’t quite got it, but jolly good show all the same. The main thing was, we all stood together, eh, what?”

  A low, growling noise could be heard in the distance, and it seemed to be getting louder and closer at an alarming rate.

  “Er… is that a Vroom-vroom, Uncle, by any chance?” Skeema asked timidly.

  “What!” cried Uncle. “Is there? Ah! Ah, yes, a Vroom-vroom. Of course, I noticed that! Not that it had anything to do with our victory, naturally! Still, just to be on the safe side… and for the sake of the babies, you understand… VRRRIPPP! VRRRIPPP!”

  He sounded the retreat and the Really Mads took cover in Whiffy Old Scrape, while he made up his mind what to do next.

  Chapter 6

  The Vroom-vroom in question stopped not much more than a cheetah’s leap from Whiffy Old Scrape.

  Uncle sent Skeema to peep out of a well-hidden bolthole to let everyone know what was going on. “Two young eyes are better than one old one,” he pointed out. “Now, how many Blah-blahs can you see?”

  “Two. Could be one male, one female. But Blah-blahs all look pretty much the same to me. ”

  “They’re not lion hunters, are they?” asked Little Dream nervously, remembering the brutes that had sneaked up on them that time on Green Island.

  “I don’t think so. I can’t see any nets,” said Skeema. “But they’ve brought a big, round red thing with them. It’s lying down on the sand next to its nest. The nest is huge and sort of square.”

  “A red thing? Lying down? You mean, like a scarlet ibis having a snooze?” suggested Mimi.

  “No, it’s miles bigger,” said Skeema. “Sort of like an elephant, only flat. And red.”

  “Hmm, a big, round red thing with a square nest! Dashed peculiar,” mused Uncle. “We shall have to investigate. Come along.” He scrambled out of the hole to look for himself, the kits following close behind.

  “Well, if it isn’t my old admirer and subject, the Chief of the Click-click tribe!” he exclaimed as soon as he clapped his eye on the Blah-blah. “And he’s got a new mate, by the look of it. She’s quite a size, eh? Look how long and tottery her legs are! My guess is she may be part-giraffe. But don’t be alarmed! She’ll soon be paying her respects to me, you’ll see. And then you shall all climb right to the top of her. Oh, her head will make an excellent look-out post, what-what!”

  “Is it safe for the babies to meet them, dear?” came Radiant’s anxious voice, for they were all getting restless, especially Trouble. He had just spat on his sister again – twice.

  “I don’t see why not,” answered Fearless. “Why don’t we all go over and say how-d’you-do? They’ll be delighted to meet us again, you mark my words!”

  The Chief of the Click-clicks – alias Professor Clutterbuck, the great expert on meerkats – along with his mate – also known as Miss Daniela Pipistrella, the world-famous hotair balloonist and camera-woman – were here to film the next episode of the popular television series, Kalahari Capers. Thanks to the radio collar he had fitted on Uncle Fearless some time before, the professor had been able to track Uncle’s movements and was anxious to know how he and his little mob of meerkats had managed after the unusually heavy rains.

  The professor knew that the rains would quickly turn everything green on the high plains surrounding the salt pans. That meant that thousands of birds and animals would be crowding there to feed. So he was keen to film the region from the air now that it was teeming with colourful wildlife of all kinds.

  At this moment, the pair were concentrating on inflating the balloon and getting Daniela airborne. While the canopy was laid out on the ground, and with the basket turned on its side, Daniela was busy checking the equipment: the liquid-gas cylinders, the burner and the big fan that would eventually direct the hot air from the burner in a stream that would fill the canopy, lifting the balloon and its contents high into the sky above the beautiful Kalahari Desert.

  The Blah-blahs’ behaviour was strange and not a little worrying to Uncle and the kits. But they stood their ground bravely at what seemed a safe distance and bobbed up and down so that the Blah-blahs would notice them. “Hello! I say! Look this way! We’re over here!” called Uncle. But it was no good. They didn’t even glance in his direction. “Aha! I think I see what’s happening!” he muttered. “They’re putting up some kind of shelter! It’s probably one of their pointy mounds. The silly things are nesting! Over here, I say!”

  “Uncle,” asked Skeema mischievously. “Are you sure that the Blah-blahs know how important you are?”

  “Of course they bally-well do!” roared Uncle. “How exasperating! We’ll just have to go right up and—”

  He was interrupted by a shout from the female Blah-blah, followed by a deafening noise like a whole pride of lions roaring at once.

  Naturally, it sent all the meerkats scurrying for cover once more.

  Chapter 7

  “All systems go!” shouted Miss Pipistrella, as the noisy burner flamed and the fan whirred. Lying on its side in the sand, the canopy of the one-man balloon began to swell with hot air. “Is the tether-rope securely tied to the towbar of the pickup? The balloon will start to lift up any moment now.”

  “Yes. It’s lashed on tight. You say the word and I’ll stop the fan.”

  “That’ll do,” shouted Daniela with a wave, and the fan stopped. “She’s rising. Give us a hand!” she yelled and the professor ran to help. With a one two-three-heave, they got the basket upright and the great bubble of the canopy billowed above it. The balloon rose about a metre above the truck until it was caught by its tether rope and could climb no higher. Daniela scrambled up on to the bonnet of the pickup, leaned into the basket and threw a switch. Instantly, the burner died.

  For a minute there was a shocking silence and then hundreds of birds and insects, as though they’d been holding their breath, filled the silence with their rasping and
creaking and twittering.

  “How long will she hover without more hot air?” asked the professor.

  “Oh, quite a while,” replied Daniela. She looked up at the steel frame that held the burner. “Could you pass me my bag? It’s got my camcorder and some water and stuff in it.”

  No sooner had he done so then Daniela staggered and had to throw out her arms to regain her balance. The balloon suddenly lurched sideways and its tether-rope jolted the truck.

  “Whoa!” yelled the professor. “I say! The wind’s getting up!”

  “You’re right,” agreed Daniela. “It’s too risky to fly right now.” She hopped out of the basket. “I’ll wait until it’s calmer.” Suddenly, a movement on the ground a little way off caught her eye. “Gosh! Look over there!” she exclaimed.

  “Well, I never…” laughed the professor.

  At last the Really Mads had the Click-clicks’ full attention!

  Uncle was issuing instructions to his little mob. “Right! One more time! Bunch together, Really Mads!” he cried. “When I say the word… give ’em another waggle!”

  Emerging from behind a tuft of dry elephant grass, the Really Mad Mob waggled their bottoms with all their might.

  The Click-clicks were enchanted. Cautiously, they moved towards the waggle-bottoms, dropped to their knees and raised their eye-protectors in front of their faces. Click-click, they went.

  “About time too!” crowed Uncle, pulling himself up to his full height. “Some proper respect at last, what-what! This way, now, babies. Don’t be afraid. They won’t hurt you. They just want to pay their respects to Papa.”