“What about the rest of you?” Poppy asked. “Can I have your approval?”
Valerian cleared his throat. “Poppy, if you don’t mind waiting outside, I think it would be easier for us to make up our minds.”
It was a discouraged Poppy who left the nest.
Once above ground she gazed down at the pond and the lodge where she knew Rye was being kept. “Think of it,” she told herself, “as just another kind of dance.”
Thistle and Curleydock emerged from the nest.
Poppy looked at them expectantly.
Thistle said, “They think you’re making a mistake, but they won’t keep you from trying. They’re going to move. So we’re on our own.”
Poppy considered her young friends. “Please,” she said to them, “you’re very brave to volunteer. But it will be hard. Maybe impossible. I won’t think less of you if you change your minds.”
“No way,” Thistle said with a stubbornness that made Poppy recall Ragweed. “We’re going with you.”
Curleydock nodded in agreement.
“All right then,” Poppy said briskly as she tried to stir up her own energy. “The first thing we need to do is get a long piece of vine. Any idea where we can get one?”
The young mice exchanged looks. “Maybe up by the berry thicket,” Curleydock suggested.
With Curleydock leading the way, the three mice scampered up the hill. A short run brought them up and over the ridge. On the far side they went down into a sunny hollow. Before them lay an overgrown thicket of berry bushes and flowering honeysuckle vines. The air was filled with sweetness.
“We should be able to get a honeysuckle vine there,” Thistle said. “They’re long and tough.”
The three mice were soon deep within the thicket. Cool and moist, it was perfumed by the almost overpowering, sticky-sweet scent of berries.
“How about this vine?” Curleydock asked. He was yanking on a green strand that twisted high over their heads and out of sight.
“It really needs to be long and strong,” Poppy urged. “It has to get us into the lodge and out.”
“This one looks okay,” Thistle called from another spot.
She was joined by the others.
“Haul it in,” Poppy said. While the other two worked to untangle the vine, she chewed through its roots. Then they began to pull.
“It’s stuck,” Thistle announced.
“Must be tied around something,” Curleydock agreed.
No matter how hard the three pulled, the vine would not come.
“We can follow it along,” Poppy suggested.
Curleydock was up front. Thistle was in the middle. Poppy came behind. As they followed the vine they became increasingly spread out, losing sight of one another.
Suddenly, from deep within the thicket, there was a frantic call from Curleydock. “Help!” he cried. “Hurry! Fast!”
Poppy and Thistle dropped the vine and charged forward. Curleydock was crouched down in terror.
Looming over him was Ereth.
“Ereth!” Poppy cried.
“Poppy,” Ereth snapped, “you simple smudge of a slimy slug! Where have you been?”
Poppy grinned. “I’ve been busy. But I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?”
“Never mind. Just get me out of here. I’m stuck.” He pulled back and forth but his quills continued to hold him fast.
“Ereth,” Poppy said, “this is Thistle and Curleydock. They’re brother and sister to Ragweed.”
“Ragweed,” Ereth said. “I’m sick of talk about Ragweed. Just get me out. I need to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“Just get me out!”
Poppy turned to Curleydock and Thistle. They had been looking on in great puzzlement. “It’s all right,” she told them. “He’s perfectly harmless.”
“Bee butter!” Ereth roared. “I am not harmless! I have a terrible temper. I say dreadful things. I’m a selfish old coot who does what he wants when he wants and doesn’t care what anyone else wants.”
“He’s really good,” Poppy said.
“Don’t listen to her. I’m bad!” Ereth screamed.
Nonetheless the three mice set to work chewing away at the vines that had ensnared Ereth. Even as they did, the impatient porcupine tossed and pulled, trying to free himself. Finally, with a snap, he broke loose.
“Now,” Ereth said, “tell those friends of yours to beat it. I have something important to tell you.”
“I’m sure they could listen—”
“It’s private, mush-head!”
Poppy looked to Thistle and Curleydock, who, understanding, scampered off.
“I’ve got something to tell you, too,” Poppy said when they were gone.
“You have to listen to me first,” Ereth insisted. “What I’ve been thinking is . . .” He stopped, suddenly bashful and tongue-tied.
“What is it?”
“It’s just that . . . what I think is . . . Now, see here, Poppy . . . I . . . wish . . . I wish . . . I had a piece of salt! Tell me what you wanted to say first.”
“Are you sure?”
“Push the barf button and take a bath! I just said so, didn’t I?”
“Well, then,” said Poppy, blushing with pleasure. “Ereth . . . I’ve fallen in love.”
“You . . . what?” Ereth whispered, aghast.
“Fallen in love.”
“With . . . whom?” Ereth asked. He was trembling with emotion.
Poppy smiled. “I know it must seem strange, but you see, I met . . . well, actually, he’s Ragweed’s brother. His name is Rye and he’s . . . But what’s the matter?”
“Thief! Crook!” Ereth yelled. “I’ll skewer him! Whack him! Mash him! Turn him into skunk gunk.”
“Ereth! What are you talking about?”
“You just think I’m too old,” the porcupine ranted, rearing up and down as though bitten by ants. “Too stupid! Too big. Too sour. Too . . . me!” Abruptly he whirled around and began to rush away.
“But that’s not true,” Poppy called after him. “It’s not. And what did you want to tell me?”
“Forget it,” Ereth called back. “I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Dimwood Forest, pickle seed!” he cried.
“Ereth!” Poppy called after him. “Please don’t go. I need you!”
“You’re on your own, traitor!” the porcupine shouted as he tore from view.
With great puzzlement Poppy gazed after him. Something was surely the matter with her friend. With a sigh, she wished she understood him better.
She glanced around. To her great relief she saw that in his fury Ereth had dropped some quills. She gathered them up and hurried to find Thistle and Curleydock.
CHAPTER 23
The Rescue Begins
“HOW DO WE get to the lodge?” Curleydock asked after Poppy had given him and Thistle a lesson in the use of the quills.
