(Well, it's been almost a month now, hasn't it? As soon the semester and all the finals were over, I had every intention to get back to this, and I only had The Missing Snowplow up early because I decided I've been working on for quite a while so I'd have it out of the way, and give readers something more to look forward to from viewing it. Originally, I was going to another Pack outing Snow Machine with Patrick and Byron in the spotlight, but I've done enough with the Pack lately and hardly anything with the narrow gauge engines, so I decided I'd hold that off for next yea and give this one a try. Thank you, Chase The Ferroequinologist, not only for giving a couple ideas for narrow gauge storylines to use for next year's set (excluding this one, lol, which I thought of myself as Snow Machine's replacement), but also for allowing to use another one of your original characters to interact with the little engines in this story. I think I have a good plan for completing this entire set on schedule by the end of the year. So for now, in Part II to The Little Engine Who Saved Christmas, sit back and watch as Rusty and Peter Sam get Snowed Under!)
The Little Engine Who Saved Christmas
Part II: Snowed Under!
Moral: railway safety/the importance of helping a friend
Short Synopsis: whilst performing a routine maintenance check, Rusty and the workmen discover fog detonators on the track, so Mr. Percival warns his engines to have their tail lamps fitted on for their evening trains. Unfortunately, Peter Sam and his miss the memo. As a result, Peter Sam gets caught in an avalanche, and Rusty comes to his rescue.
It was a cold wintry morning. The biting wind had kicked in throughout the night as the snow fell heavily. But that didn't stop the engines from working hard as they carried on with their morning trains.
Duncan was picking up passengers at Glennock when Rheneas arrived with his coal trucks.
"Good morning, Duncan!" he whistled cheerily.
"Huh! Even though there's nothing good aboot it!" Duncan huffily replied.
"Really?" Rheneas gasped in surprise, "whatever's the matter?"
"It's these cold wintry mornings. That's what's the matter. On top of that, I have spend the whole morning putting up with these grumblin' passengers! Peter Sam's got that Lakeside special he always takes. Perhaps he can take 'em."
"Passengers are urgent, Duncan. Every engine knows that," Rheneas reminded, "besides, your passengers don't look too miserable to me. And no passengers will be complaining when I deliver coal to all the station waiting rooms so that they can keep themselves comfortable while they wait for their trains."
"Huh! At least your job is worth while, Rheneas," grumbled Duncan, as his guard's whistle blew. Then he whistled and left the station, Rheneas giggling as he watched the train disappear.
The little engines on the Narrow Gauge railway are quite accustomed to the snowy weather nevertheless. But out of all of Mr. Percival engine's, Rusty seemed to be the most used to it. Striving hard, the little diesel would often perform odd jobs around the line, and usually, this would call for a morning run of routine maintenance with the workmen. This morning, Rusty was busy clearing heavy lines of snow on his way to pick up the workmen at Crovan's Gate. This way, his friends would be able to run their journeys safely throughout the day. But the snow seemed to be heavier than usual, and Rusty and his driver Mr. Hugh were aware of it.
Rusty panted heavily, as he pushed the drifts of snow heavily and sighed, "It's always the same with these cold wintry days, isn't it, Mr. Hugh?" Rusty sighed heavily to his driver.
His driver laughed and replied, "quite so, old boy. All the same, it's a good thing the Thin Controller requests routine maintenance on a more daily basis now. After all, my men seemed very enthused by it too. In the olden days, even before you arrived, Rusty, you wouldn't have been my only engine to look after. Those were hard times, you see, but it all seems better now that this railway has more engines, and more drivers in addition."
Rusty chuckled slightly, feeling much better, as he plowed the next drift.
Mr. Hugh held the position of head foreman for as long as he could remember working on the Thin Controller's railway, and had been Rusty's driver ever since the little diesel's arrival. They both made a great team, and worked well with the workmen in that regard.
At the "Works Station", some of Henry's passengers were transferring over to Peter Sam's train. This way, Peter Sam would start his journey off by dropping his passengers off at Lakeside, before taking them on the scenic route and showing them all the splendid sights there were to see.
"At least you and I making good time, youngster," Henry told Peter Sam cheekily, and then he joked, "better still, it's better you get here on time this evening, otherwise your passengers would have to wait quite a long time for the next train to come."
And he chuffed away as soon as his guard's whistle blew. Peter Sam watched his coaches glide steadily out of the station.
"Oh, that Henry," he sighed in amusement, "he must know by now that I realize he's a guaranteed connection."
Just then, Rusty honked his horn as he pulled into the platform on the other side of Peter Sam's platform. The workmen were waiting as he stopped beside Peter Sam.
"Good morning, Rusty! How are you holding up so far in this weather?"
Rusty sighed, as the workmen lined up on the platform to wait for their foreman, and replied, "well, Peter Sam. I do think Mr. Hugh and these workmen are inspecting the line as usual for a particular reason. But it's best we listen to what my driver has to say before either of us leave."
Mr. Hugh hopped off Rusty's cab and walked towards the workmen as they lined up before him on the platform.
"Alright, men. Do listen up," he began, "apparently, weather reports depict that a big freeze is due sometime later today, and we all have an very important job to do by inspecting the line in case of any damage. This isn't just any old maintenance run we usually do, but we must check every bit of track on our route to ensure safety for the other engines. Cyril the fog man will be standing by too just in case matters could get any worse then we realize."
The men chattered and nodded in agreement, as they boarded the brake coach one-by-one.
"Do you see what I mean, Peter Sam?" Rusty said, as he glanced over at his friend, "we must all take extra caution today as we go about with our work. You, in this case, must make sure that your passengers make it back here safely."
"I get your meaning, Rusty," Peter Sam replied, "but the passengers and I have our entire day planned with the Refreshment Lady. We must make it to Lakeside in enough for Miss Neptune to set up her stand."
"Mind how you go then, Peter Sam," Rusty advised, "Mr. Hugh and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or your passengers in this weather."
The guard's whistle blew, and Peter Sam quickly chuffed out of the station, as he replied "I'll be sure to do that, Rusty. Don't you worry. And thanks!"
Rusty watched with concern, as Peter Sam left the station. Just then, Mr. Hugh hopped aboard his cab, and just as they began leaving the platform, he leaned out of his cab and said, "don't worry, Rusty. The boys and I know exactly what we're doing. You have not much to be concerned about for that matter."
"I hope you're right, sir," the little diesel sighed, as their journey started.
Peter Sam chuffed cheerily on his way to Lakeside. Gusts of wind blew towards him and swirled around his funnel, but Peter Sam didn't mind.
"Wind and icicles don't bother me now," he said confidently to himself, as he looked up at his special funnel.
He was remembering that cold winter's day long ago when his old funnel had become loose, and eventually, he had been given a Giesl ejector funnel as a replacement, which made puffing a lot easier for him. It was much better for him to adjust to cold weather conditions too.
"Come along now! Come along!" he huffed cheekily to the coaches.
The passengers were also enjoying themselves as the train took them along the usual scenic route of Peter Sam's line. And they were also used to riding with Peter Sam when he was in such a state.
"Steady now, boy," his driver urged, as they saw they saw the sign for their destination, "we're bound to reach the harbor village in a minute."
Peter Sam whistled loudly as their signal was set for green.
"Lakeside, here we come!" he chanted excitedly, and his driver quickly shut off steam.
Lakeside is a harbor village and station that situates on the northern end of the narrow gauge railway. Peter Sam would come here often every morning to drop off his passengers and allow them to explore everything there is to see. His good friend, Miss Neptune the Refreshment Lady would also serve hot drinks and assorted pastries at her cafe called Neptune's Refreshments. Afterwards, Miss Neptune would board her teashop stand, and she and Peter Sam would serve refreshments to the passengers at all their favorite places on their route. But today, Miss Neptune looked quite concerned, and Peter Sam noticed this.
"Excuse me, miss," he asked, "but is something wrong?"
The Refreshment Lady sighed and replied, "not too much a concern of the sort, Peter Sam. But I do hope my special delivery from Ulfstead gets here soon. The stationmaster from Crovan's Gate only telephoned the Earl this morning."
"The Earl?" wondered Peter Sam, widening his eyebrows in surprise, "for what?"
Before the Refreshment Lady could answer, they both heard a familiar honk. Rolling up the road by the lake came Lenora, the old Catering Lorry who worked along the roadways of Skarloey and Ulfstead.
"Oh," muttered Peter Sam, startled, before chuckling, "hello there, Lenora!"
"Hello, dearie," she replied, "here are the supplies you asked for, Miss Neptune. Picked finely from the Earl's garden patches around the castle."
"Thank you, Lenora," the Refreshment Lady replied gratefully, "now I must start the morning off with me shift. Afterward, Peter Sam and I will have the ol' tea stand ready for our afternoon scenic route. Isn't that right, young fellow?"
"Um, sure," Peter Sam chuckled slightly in agreement.
And Miss Neptune headed off toward the cafe, slowly placing her vest over her shirt.
"I say, Lenora," Peter Sam wondered, looking over at the old catering lorry, "it must've been a strenuous journey all the way over from Ulfstead, right?"
"Not quite as bad as you engines might think, dearie," Lenora answered, as the men unloaded her trunk, "as long as my load is safely covered over and my wheels still whir, it's surely enough for an old lorry like meself to manage."
"I can see that," Peter Sam replied, rather impressed, and then he wondered, "but you said these supplies were picked finely from the Earl's garden patches. How can that be when all the fields are covered over by snow?"
Lenora chuckled and replied, "oh, you are a funny little engine. It's not as complicated as you think, dearie. You see, these spices have been growing ever since the spring, and the Earl's gardeners usually collect them as summer and autumn progresses. That way, the Earl can find his own way to form them together into mulling spices."
"Mulling spices?" Peter Sam wondered.
"That's right, dearie. These sorts ingredients are very useful for making hot drinks, especially in this weather."
"Oh," said Peter Sam understandingly, as he listened carefully to Lenora's words.
"Most of the Earl's guests usually enjoy a nice warm refreshment when touring out the castle out in the cold all the while long. A cup of hot cocoa is one thing when the Earl grows his own cocoa beans, but these mulling spices are quite distinctive for making hot drinks. Some visitors would want a cup of tea or some nice hot cider. Others would perhaps go for some mulled wine as a preference, but it's nice to keep some variety and perspective for that matter. You know what I mean?"
"Yes, Lenora," chuckled Peter Sam, "I know what you mean. The Refreshment Lady usually making her own cakes and other assorted things that the passengers may like after their tour. My guess is that these mulling spices may come in handy in that regard, eh?"
Lenora chuckled and wisely replied, "I guess you can say that, dearie."
"But what sorts of ingredients could you use form these spices then?"
"Oh, you know, the Earl has flowerpots which he keeps in the backyard of his castle, where he grows these miniature cinnamon and allspice trees. The cloves that he uses in the spice mix comes from flower buds that have been out in his garden for quite a long time. He also has his own special orange patch, which is where the zest of these oranges come from. The engines at Ulfstead tell more stories about this mulling process, but as seasons come and go, I somehow enjoy taking the liberty of seeing it all for meself when I have the time. Haven't you ever wished the same?"
"I'm sorry, Lenora," Peter Sam honestly replied, I've been to Ulfstead several times, but as busy as I am, I don't think I've ever had the time to view the Earl's garden patch."
"There's nothing to be sorry about, dearie," the catering lorry chuckled, "you engines are just trying to keep on time and be really useful, and I respect that. I must get going now, though. The Earl might need my help for another important delivery. Many visitors arrive all year round, especially when they're on break. I'll see you around, dearie."
"Bye, now," Peter Sam whistled, "mind how you go."
"I will, dearie. I will," Lenora chuckled, as she revved her wheels and turned away.
Peter Sam watched after Lenora from the distance in amazement, then sighed and looked at the seagulls flocking by over the quay.
Meanwhile, Rusty and the workmen were progressing very well with their morning's go about. Mr. Hugh and his men were now inspecting a bridge that stood over the Hawin Doorey river, and clearing the riverbank of fallen trees and branches that have swept from the snowstorm the night before. It seemed like they knew what they were doing, as Rusty's trucks were piled up with fallen leaves and branches, but Rusty was rather nervous.
"Will this bridge be safe to cross, driver?" he asked.
"Why, certainly, Rusty," Mr. Hugh replied, "we have inspected the castle causeway as well, and the river does start there. Better still, it's best we carry on to ensure the line is safe."
Rusty waited as the workmen boarded the brake coach, and Mr. Hugh hopped onboard his cab. Then, they set off.
Rusty honked his horn as he made his way cautiously over the bridge.
"Come on, Rusty!" Mr. Hugh called out, "this bridge is more than safe, as the men and I have just concluded."
Rusty continued to take Mr. Hugh and the workmen all around the line that ran from Hawin Doorey, from the Whispering Waterfall…to Skarloey bridge, where the beams stood high over the flowing stream…all the way over to Rheneas Bridge, where the surface seemed rather closer for the stream to make it's way through as the track stood over. Rusty had remembered long ago when high winds and rain had damaged the bridge severely. The beams of the wooden bridge were not strong enough to prevent from being blown away. But fortunately, Rusty and the workmen came up with a solution for reconstructing the bridge, and rebuilding using bricks and fencing to restore it to an all-new beauty.
"The bridge looks far better than before," Rusty muttered to himself as he crossed the bridge, feeling much better about things.
Peter Sam was still waiting at Lakeside, when at long last, it was time for his journey to continue. Miss Neptune had just finished serving breakfast to the passengers after their tour of their tour of the harbor, and the towns and villages along the coast. The passengers boarded his coaches, and Miss Neptune hopped aboard her refreshment stand on wheels that was hitched to the back of the train.
"Finally," Peter Sam sighed happily to himself, "there's nothing like another scenic route along our line."
The guard's whistle blew, and PEEP-PEEP! Peter Sam was ready to go, as he pulled his coaches steadily out of the harbor.
Peter Sam's journey continued from Lakeside at the northern end of his line, and along the loop that ran around the narrow gauge line. Their first stop was at the lake situating not too far from Skarloey Station. The passengers enjoyed themselves tremendously as they explored the woods by the lake. The Refreshment Lady was busy in her mobile shop, preparing food and hot drinks for the passengers to enjoy at later stops.
"Hopefully we can get around this line in enough time for the passengers to see the Castle Causeway and the Valley View," Peter Sam said to his driver.
"We will, Peter Sam," his driver replied, "but we mustn't rush the passengers either. They're having a wonderful time."
"I can see that, sir," Peter Sam replied understandingly, as he looked over the passengers walking around and exploring the woods by the lake, "it's a bit of a shame they can't see all the animals who live here. They must be away on hibernation. Henry even admitted to me once that he was jealous of me for the Lakeside special running through here. The forest is his favorite place to be, as it happens."
Peter Sam sighed happily, as he watched his passengers make their way through the forest path and looked out at the river stream that flowed nearby.
At long last, Mr. Hugh and the workmen have inspected the tracks that ran from Ulfstead through the Blue Mountain Quarry, and now Rusty was ready to take them down the mountainside and drop them off back at to the Depot. But first, they had to make their way over Blondin' Bridge.
"Easy as we go now, Rusty," his driver cautioned.
"Y-y-yes, sir," Rusty trembled, as they carefully made their way over the bridge. "Phew!" he sighed with relief as they finally made their way across, "made it."
"Steady, old boy," said his driver, as they turned the track that led down the mountainside.
The little engines always took caution when crossing Blondin' Bridge. Rusty, for one, remembered very well when Rheneas had just escaped an accident whilst crossing the bridge, and Paxton had to be sent for repairs as a result. The bridge is mended now, and much safer to cross. Nevertheless, Rusty still had his concerns as he looked at the sky above him.
"Blue skies are usually set for morning then get much more whitish around the afternoon," he wondered to his driver, "but what do you think might be the meaning for all those gray clouds?"
"I have no idea, Rusty," Mr. Hugh replied, as he looked out at the skyline above them, "but I'm sure that if the weather were to get any worse, we would possibly know in advance."
"Hmm," thought Rusty, as he observed the white skyline and gray clouds, "it's only so long past noon after all, but I wonder if…"
BANG!
"Sleepers and slate trucks!" Rusty gasped, as they hit something on the track, "what was that?!"
Mr. Hugh stopped the train, and summoned the workmen outside. Rusty backed up a little to where the loud bang had occurred. The men inspected Rusty's track, as Mr. Hugh and the fireman looked over and knelt down beside them.
"Hmm," thought Mr. Hugh, "fog detonators."
"Fog detonators?!" Rusty gasped, "but that can't possibly mean that…"
"Yes, Rusty," Mr. Hugh replied, as he rose up from the ground, the men all doing the same after him, "but I'm afraid there must be fog ahead."
"But that's impossible," the fireman wondered to Mr. Hugh, "the Thin Controller said nothing about the possibility when he gave the weather report this morning."
"I know," wondered Mr. Hugh, "it's strange."
"Yes," a voice suddenly called out, "it is indeed."
Rusty and the men looked over in surprise at who they saw walking over towards them. But Rusty recognized him at once.
"Cyril?" he gasped, as the man sighed and nodded whilst standing before Rusty, but the little diesel was still rather puzzled. "But…I don't understand. What are you doing here? Is there really fog ahead?"
Cyril, the railway fog man who lived in a cottage situated in Misty Valley, worked summer shifts as a lighthouse keeper, and in the spring and autumn as a farmhand. But Cyril was always in charge of fog signals on the railway, and around wintertime, he would work day and night to ensure that the railway was running smoothly in case of fog. But today he seemed rather busy.
Cyril sighed to Rusty and replied, "no, Rusty. Not yet there isn't. But there will be, though. Later on tonight. I have a job to do all day, you see, to ensure that the entire railway is safe, but weather reports later this morning have indicated that fog is most likely going to rolling in later on this evening."
"Oh, dear," groaned Rusty, "the Thin Controller never told us anything about fog at the Depot this morning, but I understand that the news arrived far too late for him to do so. Thank you, Cyril, for warning us."
"Yes," Mr. Hugh added, as the men carefully boarded the brake coach, "we truly appreciate this. What matters now is that Rusty and I find the Thin Controller and warn the other engines immediately."
"I suggest that you do that as soon as possible," Cyril replied, "in the meantime, I still have a railway to protect. It will be quite some time before I can go home to Misty Valley."
"Oh, it's going to be a while before we can go home too," said Mr. Hugh, as he and the fireman boarded Rusty's cab, "but Rusty and I are sure to make the best of it."
"Good to see you, Rusty. Mind how you go now," advised Cyril.
Rusty honked his horn and, "you too, Cyril. Take care" before setting off again down the track, Cyril waving after him.
"Oh, my," Rusty thought, "we'd better hurry back to the station immediately and warn the Thin Controller."
"Calm down, Rusty," his driver chuckled, "the Thin Controller's a responsible figure in authority, and he'll know just what to do."
Rusty sighed with hope, as they continued on their way back to the Engine Depot.
Rusty and the workmen arrived at Glennock Station, where Mr. Percival was waiting on the platform for their daily maintenance report. Mr. Hugh exited Rusty's cab and spoke with him right away.
"Mmm, yes. That does seem rather strange," replied Mr. Percival, "I've just looked at the weather channel myself, but Cyril is a man who seems to know what he's doing. Rusty, please bring the workmen back to the Depot. I'm going to head over there myself. I must have a word with the other engines.
Rusty honked his horn as he pulled the brake coach out of the station towards the Depot. Mr. Percival sighed and walked the other way towards his car.
The little engines were waiting at the Depot to be filled up with coal. They had just completed their morning run and were being prepared for their afternoon trains when Rusty arrived.
"Hello, everyone!" the little diesel honked anxiously, "please listen up. The Thin Controller has a special announcement to make…"
"Um, I think I can tell them myself. Thank you, Rusty," Mr. Percival announced as he quickly shut the door to his car and made his way over. "Now," he continued, as he stood before his engines with a pen and checklist in hand, "before I explain what the situation is, I must take attendance to ensure that you're all here." He began running through his checklist, checking off all the engines he marked as present. "Hmm, let me see; Rusty, of course. I just spoke with you back at the station."
Rusty sighed and watched carefully as Mr. Percival looked closer down his checklist, mutterting, "mmm, yes. Rheneas; Skarloey; Luke; Duncan; Duke; Sir Handel…" Mr. Percival looked at the very bottom of his list, but before he could mark the last name the last name, he looked up and muttered "Peter Sam?" before looking back at his list.
"I say," he wondered, "where on earth is Peter Sam? Have any of you seen him?"
The engines all looked around, but Peter Sam was nowhere to be seen. Rusty was especially concerned. Then, he remembered.
"Um, excuse me, sir. But I remember correctly, Peter Sam is probably still out pulling the Lakeside special with the Refreshment Lady and the passengers. He doesn't arrive back at the "Works Station" for Henry's train until the end of the afternoon."
"I see," pondered Mr. Percival, his face looking very serious, "then I need you, Rusty to find Peter Sam and warn him about what I'm going to tell the rest of you." Then he sighed and announced, "it appears that I have an urgent weather update to report that I was in no way aware this morning. Rusty's discovered the same sign of experiencing fog detonators on the track, and that's why I need you all to have your headlamps checked over immediately."
"But…wouldn't that make us late with our trains, sir," Duncan wondered.
"That's no concern at this moment, Duncan," Mr. Percival sternly replied, "being safe in this weather is far more important than being on time, and that's why I'm going to contact all the stationmasters and foremen while the men are working on your headlamps. Good day, engines."
And he turned and walked away.
And that was Mr. Percival's final say. The workmen wasted no time in checking over the engines' headlamps, whilst Mr. Hugh did the same for his own engine.
"Do you think we'll be able to find Peter Sam in time, sir?" Rusty wondered.
"All in good time, Rusty," Mr. Hugh replied, "we'll set out to look for him as soon as the men and I are done."
That made Rusty feel a tad bit better, but he couldn't help wondering whether or not they'd be able to find Peter Sam in time and warn him about the fog. In no time at all, the engines' headlamps were adjusted, and they were safely able to proceed and go about with their afternoon jobs. All except for one, of course…
As usual, Peter Sam was having fun with the Lakeside special; the passengers had a wonderful time, and Miss Neptune kept busy the whole day through, serving food and hot drink such as tea, cocoa, cider and mulled wine to the passengers. They had just finished exploring their last stop, before preparing for their journey home.
"All aboard!" Peter Sam whistled, as the passengers boarded the train, and he slowly set off for Crovan's Gate.
Peter Sam's journey back to the "Works Station" took him along the scenic route back around the loop of the Skarloey Railway line. They passed through Lakeside, and eventually made their way towards Crovan's Gate. They arrived at long last, just as Henry arrived to take them home.
"Well," gasped Peter Sam cheekily, "look who decided to show up."
"Very funny, youngster," Henry sighed with slight amusement, as the passengers crossed over to his train, "but I just saw you pull in to the station right before I did."
"Oh, you did?" muttered Peter Sam in surprise, before joking, "ah, well. So much for a guaranteed connection, eh?"
"Mmm, yes," Henry replied, rather meekly. Peter Sam could see he looked rather concerned.
"You look nervous, Henry," he wondered, "what's the matter?"
"Cyril the fog man set off detonators in Misty Valley. Apparently, fog's rolling in for the night. Luckily, I got my headlamp checked over before arriving to pick up these passengers. Have you done the same, youngster?"
"Um…sorry, Henry. I haven't," muttered Peter Sam, rather confused. "But I'm sure I'll be fine though. My lamp seems to be functioning well after all."
Suddenly, the guard's whistle blew, and it was time for Henry to leave.
"Well, be careful!" he advised, looking rather serious as he exited the station. "I'd have it checked over at the SteamWorks if I were you!"
"But…I don't have time," Peter Sam wondered, as his driver and fireman walked out from the inside of the station and back towards him.
"What's that, old boy?" his driver asked curiously.
"Um…nothing," Peter Sam responded, "Henry and I were just talking. That's all."
His driver and fireman boarded his cab, rather puzzled. Peter Sam left the station as soon as the guard's whistle blew, and he returned his coaches to the shed nearby, before heading off to the Slate Quarry.
Peter Sam quickly arrived at the Slate Quarry and shunted four trucks into place towards the winch two times over. At last, he had eight trucks full of slate to take away, and was ready for his journey home.
"Going here seems just a bit quicker than having to wait for Owen and Merrick to bring and load several trucks at once," Peter Sam figured, as he shunted his eight trucks down towards a brake van, "but I must say, the cutting shed over at the Depot may be a bit of a journey in that regard." The van was coupled, and Peter Sam whistled as he pulled his train away.
On the way back to the Depot with his eight trucks of slate, Peter Sam observed the grayish sky above him, and he became very curious.
"I say," he thought, "the clouds don't usually form away when it gets this close to dark. Maybe Henry was right about the fog."
Peter Sam wasn't for sure, but it didn't take long until his fears were suddenly realized.
BANG!
"Woah!" he wailed, as he ran quickly over the rails, "what in the name of Skarloey was that?!"
"Fog detonators," his driver explained, "it's best we slow down. As long as you have a working lamp, we should be fine."
Mist slowly began to bog down over the track, and made the journey increasingly difficult for Peter Sam to proceed.
"Why didn't the Thin Controller tell us anything about fog rolling in this morning?" Peter Sam wondered with confusion.
"I don't know," his driver replied, "maybe it had nothing to do with recent weather reports. That's usually the most common solution, but the Thin Controller, or at least one of the engines, would have let us know if…"
Blink!
But then there was trouble. Before Peter Sam or his crew could say anything else, his headlamp suddenly went out.
"Oh!" gasped Peter Sam in surprise, chuckling nervously. "Eh…this doesn't look very good, now, does it?"
"What's the matter?" his fireman asked.
"Something's wrong with my headlamp!" Peter Sam replied, trembling a bit.
"Hmm, I wonder," his driver thought, "when was the last time we had checked over…or even troubleshooted?"
"Eh…not too recently," Peter Sam quietly replied, as they turned the track. "Oh, dear," he quivered, "what are we going to do?"
Peter Sam didn't know, and nor did his driver or fireman.
"Help!" Peter Sam shouted out, "help!"
And he blew his whistle as loud and as long as he could. He hoped eventually that someone would hear him, but the mist swirling around his line made it very difficult for him to detect another engine anyway. Little did he know that his loud whistle echoed out across the valley and had unfortunately disrupted the mountainsides around Echo Pass Ravine. The barriers had recently been inspected and declared unsafe by Mr. Hugh and the workmen a couple of days ago, but it was so misty that Peter Sam wasn't able to detect the WARNING sign on his way through to signal him of the danger ahead. By the time he and his crew realized it, it was too late. From up the cliffside, they could suddenly hear a strange rumbling sound coming through their way.
"What's that noise?" wondered Peter Sam, as he stopped right in the middle between the barriers.
He and his crew wasn't so sure, but then they looked up to see what it really was.
"Avalanche!" Peter Sam burst out.
"Scram!" the driver shouted. And he and the fireman did so, as they jumped out of the cab just in time.
Snow and sleet tumbled all the way down the mountainside and toppled far over Peter Sam and his trucks. But his driver and fireman had jumped clear before the fall, and surveyed the aftereffect of the avalanche.
"Are you alright, Peter Sam?!" the fireman called out.
"I think so," Peter Sam mumbled from beneath the snow, "what happened?"
"Don't worry about it," the driver quickly replied, as he turned on his flashlight, "it's a good things I always keep one of these in handy for evening journeys. We'll get help at the nearest station and be back before you know it."
Peter Sam's crew set off cautiously towards the nearest station, careful not to trigger any more snow to fall down from either side of the barriers.
Back at the Depot, Rusty was ready to take the workmen back to Crovan's Gate, while Rheneas, Skarloey, Duncan and Luke gathered at the sheds to settle down for the night. Rusty was just about to leave, when Duke and Sir Handel stopped by. They both slept with Peter Sam in the three-berth shed nearby, but they looked rather concerned.
"Stuart has not returned," Duke announced, "he's never usually out this late."
"We're worried," Sir Handel added.
"Peter Sam is in trouble," Rusty figured to his driver, "I bet my taillamp on it."
"Mmm," Mr. Hugh thought, "you could be right, ol' boy. I better telephone ahead to the 'Works Station' and inform the stationmaster. If the lads and I are going to organize a search party for a missing engine in this weather, we're going to be out just a little bit later, but I I think I know where to start."
"Much obliged," Rusty meekly agreed.
"Do be careful out there. Will you, young 'un?" Duke warned gravely.
"I will," Rusty replied, "and I'll be back before you know it. I promise…that Peter Sam will safe and dry in his shed once more."
And he loudly honked his horn as he pulled away with the brake coach, leaving all the other engines rather surprised.
The wind blew fast, and the fog lay thick all around. But that didn't stop Rusty in his attempt to find and rescue his friend.
"Peter Sam!" he called out, "Peter Sam! Where are you?!"
"Relax, ol' boy," his driver replied, "Peter Sam's bound to be stuck somewhere, and my methods are correct, it could be from the DANGER sign he might have missed whilst traveling out in the fog towards the Ravine?"
"The Ravine?" Rusty gasped, "but…you mean that…"
"If the men and I knew of the fog beforehand," his driver explained, "we would have set flashing lights around to warn engines of the unsafe barriers."
"Unsafe barrier?" Rusty wondered, "you mean the one we inspected the other day? But…Peter Sam usually runs his evening train along the route to the Slate Quarry. According to him, it saves time rather than to wait longer for Merrick and Owen to load so many trucks one at a time."
"Yes, Rusty," Mr. Hugh sighed, "and that's why we're heading in that direction to look for Peter Sam now."
The journey took them all the way through Rheneas junction, over the viaduct and past the station until they reached Skarloey. Up ahead, they could see a green figure waving at them.
"I say," Rusty wondered, "what's that?"
"It's a warning flag," his driver explained, "we'd better slow down."
Rusty pulled into the station and stopped just beside the platform, where the stationmaster was waiting for him.
"Thank goodness I've found you, Rusty," he sighed, "Peter Sam's crew have just headed back towards the Ravine. I told I'd find help as soon as possible."
"I'm going in," Rusty boldly explained, "if the workmen and I were ones who discovered how unsafe the barriers were, than I think it's best we attend to this matter ourselves."
"Rusty's lamp should beam brightly to help us proceed with caution by seeing the track ahead," Mr. Hugh added.
"Very well," the stationmaster agreed, "carry on then."
Rusty slowly left the station platform and made his way towards the ravine as carefully as he could.
"Steady now, Rusty," his driver cautioned, as he looked out across at the barrier, "we'll find Peter Sam yet."
"I hope he's alright," Rusty muttered, as they pressed on.
It wasn't long before Rusty and his crew detected a flashing light up ahead. They thought they had an idea who it was.
"Could that be…?" Rusty's fireman thought.
"Yes," Mr. Hugh sighed, "I believe that's our cue."
"Hello?" a voice called out.
"Over here!" another one called out, waving.
"We're coming!" Rusty shouted in reply, "Peter Sam? Is that you?"
"Hello?" the little green engine called out from beneath the snow, "is somebody there?"
"Peter Sam!" Rusty shouted, honking his horn with excitement, "it is you! I've found you! We've found him, driver! We've found him!"
"Rusty?" Peter Sam gasped.
"Peter Sam!"
"Rusty!" Peter Sam shouted in excitement, "good heavens, help has come!"
"And in just in time too," his driver chuckled, "it was good of you to come here, Rusty. I don't what we would have done otherwise."
"Besides wait for the snow to melt!" Peter Sam joked beneath the snow.
Everybody had a good laugh, as Mr. Hugh and the workmen wasted at digging off the snow around Peter Sam and his trucks. Afterwards, they put up flashing lights on the DANGER signs around both sides of the Ravine path to warn approaching engines whenever the fog rolled in. Then, pulling hard, Rusty's cable was hitched up to Peter Sam, as both their plows were removed. The little diesel tugged and slipped, and slipped and tugged…until finally, Peter Sam and his slate trucks were free.
"Oh, thank you, Rusty!" Peter Sam whistled gratefully, "what would I have done without you?"
"Well…, perhaps it's like you said," Rusty joked, "wait for the snow to melt otherwise."
The two friends had a good laugh, as they set off on their journey home.
They dropped the workmen off at Crovan's Gate, in time for Bertie to take them on their bus ride home. Then they headed back to the Depot, where Peter Sam was able to deliver his slate tiles at the top station. Afterwards, they arrived back at the sheds where the other engines were there, waiting for them.
"Peter Sam is here!" Rusty proudly announced, "safe and sound!"
"Hooray!" the engines whistled, but stopped once they saw Mr. Percival's car pull up.
"Rusty! Peter Sam!" Mr. Percival shouted, slamming the door to his car and running all the way over towards them, "oh, thanks heavens, you're both alright. Peter Sam, you shall have your headlamp looked over and repaired first thing in the morning." Then he turned toward the little diesel in front of him. " As for you, Rusty, that was some risk you took there with going in the fog to look for your friend. But you've succeeded in that regard, and I'm proud of you for that."
"Thank you, sir," Rusty replied.
"Rusty rescued me from that avalanche," Peter Sam explained with relief, "he's my hero."
"Oh, it wasn't that much, Peter Sam," Rusty chuckled modestly, "you know I'd do the same for any other engine in danger. It's the benefit I receive from helping out a Friend In Need."
"Ah, but that's what we admire about you, Rusty," Mr. Percival genuinely proclaimed, "that you're a very careful little diesel and will always answer to a distress call."
"Three cheers for Rusty!" Peter Sam whistled, "hip-hip…!"
"…hooray!" the rest of the engines finished.
"Hip-hip…!"
"…hooray!"
"Hip-hip…hooray!" they all shouted out together.
As all his narrow gauge friends burst out in a chorus of cheers and whistles, Rusty couldn't have felt more useful and reliable than he had throughout the course of the day. And to be there to help his friends whenever they were in trouble was the greatest honor he could ever think of from on the Thin Controller's railway.
THE END
This was a simple yet fun story to write. Another one of those railway-focused stories I enjoy doing: one that shows what can go wrong with fog or avalanches. I know it took a little too long to get going to the more exciting parts of the story, but I had so much planned before that I found necessary, so I kept it in. The characters were fun to work with too. The interactions between Rusty and Mr. Hugh were second-to-none for me, and Peter Sam's interactions with Henry and the Refreshment Lady (a.k.a. Miss Neptune, quite a fitting name considering she works at Neptune's Refreshments) felt very RWS/S4-esque, and I'm glad to have added it. Thanks again, Chase, for allowing to use Lenora the Catering Lorry. It was fun having her interact with Peter Sam, and I also enjoyed bringing back Cyril the fog man, whom I've had a role in mind for ever since I thought of this story. As for Duke, please, don't ask. I've had some interactions planned for him with Sir Handel and Peter Sam before the latter headed off to Crovan's Gate, but I decided to write it out, as to focus more on Rusty and Peter Sam, hence the title change from "Rusty And The Avalanche" to "Snowed Under!", as the story is almost equally about the two, and Rusty's NOT the one who encounters the avalanche, but is somehow the protagonist, with Peter Sam being the deuteragonist (2nd main character) "Snowy Mountain Rescue" was also a working title, but that just didn't stick with me, really. I hope to do more with Duke, Sir Handel and Peter Sam in future narrow gauge stories, shall either three of them get the spotlight. Till then, I've decided to cancel The Skarloey Adventure Begins and all future plans for TAB follow-ups. But for now, I believe it's time get a little festive with the rest of the holiday set, so stay tuned for…
Mavis' Christmas Surprise - it's Christmas time, and Paxton shockingly discovers that Mavis has no time for parties. He decides to cheer her up by organizing a Christmas party at the quarry, but doesn't feel ready yet to tell Sir Topham Hatt and has trouble avoiding his fellow diesels with the party preparations. (REMINDER: this one is half underway, so it'll probably up in a couple days top)
Thomas Saves Christmas - it's nearly Christmas, and Thomas discovers that Mrs. Kyndley and her fellow villagers in Hackenback are currently lacking from a state of poverty. Struggling to find a solution, Thomas' luck turns on Christmas Eve when he is asked to deliver the Presents Train. He braves a fierce snowstorm, and makes it through Hackenback with the help of Mrs. Kyndley and the villagers, so Thomas then makes a plan to return the favor and give them a Christmas they will never forget.
A Salty New Year - it is New Year's Eve but Cranky feels out of the spirit and is blamed for an accident at the docks. When he holds Salty responsible for his tendency of telling tales, the two of them make an agreement to go through changes for the New Year. However, disaster strikes in the midst of these change attempts and both Salty and Cranky learn that they don't have to change themselves completely to be useful.
And coming in 2017….
Derek's Day Out - The Fat Controller, having had it with Bill and Ben's constant bantering and realizing that Timothy and Marion can't always keep them in order, spares Derek the diesel engine to help out and work at the Clay Pits. The BR Class 17 works well with Timothy and Marion, but his constant "teething troubles" with his engine overheating causes great amusement amongst the twins…until Derek comes to their rescue!