Angharad has led Thunderer, carrying Dot and Mr Holmes – and Victor and Wiz – into a clearing in the Dendringham woods. A very strange clearing…
With a shudder, Thunderer came to a halt. So did Wiz, and started wandering round in a circle, with his tail sweeping the ground.
This clearing was bigger than the last one – but it had the same soft, thick grass and the same green ferns all round it, waving like little pointy green flags in the gentle breeze.
Overhead, the branches of the huge trees all round the clearing, were moving too, with a sighing, rustling sound. The branches were so big they almost formed a complete canopy, like a cathedral roof, over the clearing.
But here and there the late morning sun broke through, in glorious shafts of light like the spotlights Dot could remember from seeing big rock concerts on TV, like the one for the Queen’s Silver Jubilee.
What really caught her eye, though, was down at the end of the clearing.
There, the ground rose up in a long grassy bank, that went all the way across the open space they were standing in. It was quite high – it reminded Dot of one of the football grounds where her Dad’s Sunday League team played once, where there weren’t any seats, just a grassy bank like this one on each side of the pitch.
It had been nice – they’d sat there on rugs and had a picnic. (The Swanley Park Sabre Tooths lost, though her Dad did score two goals!)
There were ferns all over the bank, too – covering it like a carpet. Behind it the Dendringham woods started again, thick with trees, oaks and elms and silver birches.
“What a beautiful spot!” said Mr Holmes, patting Thunderer’s neck to calm him down. Dot did too – it was all wet with sweat, and he was trembling all over. “But what on earth brought Angharad here?”
Because there she was again, at the far end of the clearing – behaving even more strangely, pacing up and down, her curved tail quivering with excitement, making snuffling noises as she tried to find where her scent had gone.
“It’s here somewhere! I KNOW it!” Dot heard her mutter. “It can’t just have vanished into thin air!”
Wizzie came over to Dot and looked up at her – giving her what she calls his “Come on, catch up!” look. How many times had she seen that while she was out walking him in the park!
“What’s Angharad doing?” asked Dot. Wizzie let out a little half-groan, half bark.
Mr Homes shook his head. “Well whatever she’s doing, there’s something we should be doing right now” he said. “Thunderer needs our attention!”
He swung his right leg over the big horse’s saddle and after a bit of struggle, got his left foot out of its stirrup and jumped down. Then he held his hands up to help Dot.
“Easy!” grumbled Mr Mouse, poking his head out of her collar as she jumped down, with Mr Holmes steadying her as her feet touched the ground. “You nearly lost me there!”
“I just KNOW I’m in the right place!” mumbled Angharad, snuffling harder than ever as she tracked up and down, her bearded little face swishing through the thick, long grass of the clearing.
“Now!” said Mr Holmes, unwinding a long scarf in a Scottish tartan pattern from round his neck. “Let’s give this horse a rub down before he catches his death of cold!”
And he started to rub away briskly at Thunderer’s neck, drying the big horse down and talking to him in a low, gentle voice to calm him. Dot helped, picking off bits of twig and leaves where they’d got tangled up in the big horse’s coat.
They were both so busy they didn’t notice what happened next.
But Mr Mouse did!
“Holy Camoley!” he said suddenly. “What’s THAT!”
