Chapter 16 – Change Looms

While Ratty was busy writing down his account of their all-too-short time with the elves, Cola took a large basket with her to the village to pick up some very necessary supplies. She returned an hour later laden with provisions and full of news and gossip. She shouted out things to her husband, still at his desk, as she stowed her purchases in the pantry. "Ma Ferret has been 'taken bad.' They say she hasn't long for this world."

Ratty shouted back: "They were saying that about her when I was just a nipper!"

"This time it's serious, she might not last the day. Is it her eldest daughter who will succeed her?"

"No, it's always the youngest daughter, goodness knows why. What did you get for Sunday lunch?"

"A nice piece of silverside, we can't afford topside every time. Those goblins have left The Earth, nobody knows where to."

"Toad Hall most likely. Did you get some parsnips?"

"No need, there's plenty left. They reckon though that someone is hiding out in The Earth: lights were seen there last night."

"My guess would be Radagast; when I invited him to stay with us here, he said he was 'going to earth.' You were there! Any news of Toad Hall?"

"I did ask, but nobody seems to know anything."

"Any other news?"

Well, there's plenty of talk about the Stoats leaving, but we knew that. Oh, it's official: the Chief Weasel is going to abdicate and his successor has been decided."

"About time! Did you get a newspaper?"

"The local rag? I did, but I haven't had time to look at it."

"Fair enough. After lunch – I will help with the washing up first – I must go and see Otter."

"Don't worry about that, it's only bread and cheese."

"And pickled onions and Piccalilli?"

"Gourmand! I've got some ripe pears to go with the Gorgonzola."

"Love you!"

…oOo…

It was sufficiently dark that Ratty had to rig a lantern on his little rowing boat for the trip home. "Otter was glad of our news," he told Cola, "but he didn't have much to tell me in return. He and Portly have been keeping an eye on Toad Hall, but they don't really know what's going on there now. The goblins did block the drive, but they removed the barrier again later. They brought in a horse and cart and took something away. The Otters think it was the wizard's empty chest, but they don't know for sure: it was under a tarpaulin."

"Are the goblins still there?"

"There are a few in the grounds apparently, but they have no idea what is going on in the house."

"Otter is a magistrate, why on earth hasn't he ordered the police to go in in force to evict the trespassers?"

"I asked him that, but a bit more politely. It's the same as years ago when Toad was in jail: Toad is the owner, unless he complains in person the police will do nothing."

"No news of Toad I suppose?"

"Nothing. But there is a warrant out for the arrest of Fox. Otter reckons that Toad must have had a hand in arranging that."

"And Fox himself? Long gone I imagine?"

"If he has any sense at all he will have slipped out of the country by now."

…oOo…

None of the River Bankers were what you could call regular church goers: their devotions were more of the solitary, 'communing with nature' kind. So the distant chiming of the church bells was for Otter, as he made his way into the Wild Wood, not a call to prayer but a signal that all was, if not well, at least normal in the world. Otter wore his Sunday-best, it being Sunday and he having shifted in recent years from the bohemianism of his youth to conventional respectability. He carried about his person both a black tie and a black armband, just in case the prediction of Ma Ferret's demise proved to be accurate.

He made his way to Badger's famous front door and rang the bell. Badger was quickly at the door and the two were soon taking coffee together in the kitchen. Badger was feeling much better after a couple of days rest and was almost jovial, cracking jokes with Otter as they exchanged news and views. The latest news, delivered by a young messenger only that morning was a dignified, hand-written note:

Ma Ferret's life is slipping peacefully to its end. Her family are at her bedside.

"It's the end of an era," said Otter. "Did you know her well?"

"Well enough to know that she wouldn't want us to mourn her and pull solemn faces. There will be a big funeral with all the trimmings, which everyone will attend, and that will be that. The next day her youngest daughter becomes Ma Ferret and life goes on."

"Do you know this daughter?"

"I met her for the first time only last week, when I took the wizard to see Ma."

"Which nephew has become the new Chief Weasel?"

"Sorry, Otter, those little creeps seem all the same to me. It's a sad day for the Wild Wood."

"That it is, but does it really matter that much?"

"What?!"

"You were with me, Badger, talking with those elves: when we are all either men or animals, the Wild Wood community will be gone. It's already started with the stoats leaving en masse."

"You believe that this change will happen in my lifetime? I do hope it won't."

"It's happening all right and we should have seen the signs before now. This big change started some time ago and it is affecting all of us. We animals kept ourselves to ourselves. That has changed: many of us now go out into the wide world. Only a few years ago I could never have imagined being a magistrate; now I meet with townspeople on a daily basis. Once, I could never have countenanced our Portly going to study at University. Fox and Toad travel to the continent – can you imagine their fathers doing that! And to top it all the stoats, the lot of them, are emigrating. Emigrating!"

Badger shook his old head as if to shake off these disturbing words. "You are right, Otter, I can't deny it. Toad is wholly human, I've seen that, and so now is your boy Portly; I doubt he'll be able to enter this old sett any more."

"Oh I think he will Badger, for you have changed too."

"Have I Otter? I am a badger; I don't want to be a human, or a dumb animal either. I want to be what I've always been. Why do things have to change NOW?"

Otter took breath to reply, but changed his mind. What could he say while Badger was in this mood, was the old fellow loosing his marbles?

But Badger hadn't finished: "This place is my home, Otter; I've lived here all my life. Badgers have lived here for time out of mind. What will happen to it if I become just a Man? A man can't live in a hole in the ground, even as grand a hole as this one. Or suppose I became a dumb animal – and I don't intend to – what will happen to all my things – books, papers, etcetera?"

"I see your point old man; we've got our river-side chalet and the Water Rats have their neat little shack, but a hole in the ground in the middle of a wood is not the same. But even if this change were not happening you're not getting any younger. If you don't mind me asking, what will happen to this old place when you go?"

"Ask away. It is all arranged: the young daughter of a cousin of mine will be moving in shortly; they are having the whole of the east wing. She and her beau are visiting his relations up river at the moment."

"Well if you are becoming a Man you may have to move out and leave the whole place to them. Is that so bad? There will continue to be badgers here, and you can take your stuff with you. I'm assuming they will not want to become men too."

"They won't; in that regard I am the last of my line."

Shortly afterwards Otter said farewell; and quite forgetting his intention of courtesy calls on the Ferrets and Weasels, turned for home. He trudged back in a brown study; the ramifications of the Change whirling around his brain. He could see now why the Stoats were leaving - it solved a lot of problems. How would the Weasels and Ferrets cope? Or the rabbits, mice, squirrels and hedgehogs? Would they all revert to dumb beasts? Very probably, most of them. Who else was there?

He stopped dead when it came to him: Mole! Little Mole had quite slipped his mind, and he was one of them, the River Bankers. Mole too lived underground, and in the middle of a meadow. What was happening to him? Without hesitation Otter diverted his route to the meadow. But though he spent the rest of the morning there, using as much of his keen animal senses as were left to him, he could find not the faintest trace of Mole or his little underground home.