They cut off across the side of the hill with the sound of the dogs growing louder all the time. Then just below them they saw the dwelling. It was a croft. The walls were of rough white stone and they supported a roof of turf out of which grew a green haze of moss. There was a hole for a window and a hole for a door and out of the little chimney came the sweet smell of burning peat. The long low dwelling seemed to have grown out of the earth and this impression was confirmed by the heaps of peat squares piled up against the two end walls and the fact that the building itself was in a little hollow. There was a stone wall around it enclosing a garden and at the back the animals could see a small vegetable patch while at the front were a few pink and white flowers. The ground immediately outside the wall was dotted with troughs and squares from which the peat had been cut and a few sheep grazed around the outside of these while others lay inside hoping for some shade from the sun. Two white goats munched away vigorously just outside a little gate in the stone wall through which the garden was entered. There was something about the croft, and the scene below them, that was so peaceful that for a second they forgot their danger; it seemed impossible that anything bad could happen there. The place filled them with a feeling of trust and calm so that they felt no fear or doubt as they made their way down the slope. The latch on the gate made a loud click as Nab lifted it and the goats looked up and bleated, staring at them curiously for a second or two before resuming their grazing. Brock and Perryfoot walked quietly across the little garden and sat down against the wall of the croft to wait and see what happened while Warrigal flew up and perched on the roof. Still carrying Beth, Nab slowly walked up to the front door. As he got nearer he heard low voices and the clink and clatter of cups and plates. Finally he reached the door, which was open, and stood wondering what to do next. Gently he laid Beth down on the ground. What was the human word for greeting which she had taught him? Then he remembered.
‘Hello,’ he said quietly, but the sounds and voices in the kitchen carried on unchanged. They haven’t heard me, he thought, and repeated it again more loudly. This time the sounds stopped and the voices took on a different tone.
‘See who that is, Jim. I can’t think who it might be. It’s very early. Look! It’s only half past seven.’
Nab heard the sound of a chair being scraped back across the floor and then the pad of footsteps came towards the door. It was so dark inside that he could see nothing until suddenly a man stood in front of him. He was old and his hair was white and sparse but out of his wrinkled brown face shone two blue eyes that danced with light. He wore a collarless shirt with a blue pin-stripe waistcoat and on his legs a pair of baggy blue serge trousers tied around the waist by a piece of string. He stood with one hand on the door and in the other he held an old briar pipe.
‘Hello, young feller. What can I do for you? You’re a long way from the road.’ Then he spotted Beth on the grass. ‘Oh, I see. Your friend’s ill. Well, fetch her in then and we’ll see what we can do. Probably the heat.’
‘Danger. Hide,’ said Nab and lifted three fingers of one hand.
‘What? There are three more of you? What danger?’
Frantic with frustration at not being able to find the words he wanted, Nab called to the others.
‘Well, blow me down. Ivy,’ Jim called into the kitchen. ‘Here a minute!’
The owl, the badger and the hare stood in a line outside the front door while the old couple looked at them in amazement. Then Ivy spoke. She was small with grey hair and wore a navy blue dress with a faint white flowered pattern on it. When she spoke her hands shook a little with age, but her eyes, like Jim’s, were bright and merry.
‘You know who they are, don’t you, Jim?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well let’s get them inside quickly and hide them. Listen!’ She paused and waited while the barking and shouting got louder. ‘Come on, young man. Hurry up, and bring your friends in with you. Jim; put them in the bedroom.’
The old man led the animals through the front room and the kitchen until they came to an old wooden door which he opened. In the middle of the room was a large bed and around the whitewashed walls were a few pieces of furniture; an old wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a beautiful carved dressing table with photographs of Jim and of Ivy’s parents on it along with her brush and comb and one or two bottles of lavender water and scent.
‘Now, don’t worry. Get behind the bed and keep very quiet. We’ll see to them.’ He closed the door and there was silence except for muffled voices from the front room and the barking of the dogs. Nab lay Beth down gently on a piece of matting which was on the floor and sat beside her. Perryfoot and Brock squeezed under the bed and Warrigal perched on top of one of the brass bed-posts. It seemed to the animals as if they had only just settled in their places when the little house was suddenly filled with the sound of a loud thumping and banging on the door. They held their breath and their hearts quickened. It had all happened so fast that they had not had time to think whether or not they could trust the old couple; yet as soon as the seed of doubt entered their heads they dismissed it with a certainty that they could not explain. The old couple were of the Eldron; of that there could be no question. The animals had felt the goodness and warmth which flowed out towards them.
The knocking came again, only louder this time. Then a voice shouted out harshly. ‘Anyone in?’ Nab felt a tingle of fear rush up and down his spine and lodge, prickling, at the back of his neck. He instantly recognized the voice, it came to him as a terrible ghost from the past. The voice belonged unmistakably to the Urkku called Jeff; the one who, with his brother, had captured him from Silver Wood and taken him back to be locked up in the little room and, worst of all, the one who had shot Bruin. There were now voices at the door; the old man had finally answered it and his deep gentle lilting voice contrasted sharply with the jagged staccato tones of the other. ‘I must hear what they are saying,’ thought Nab, and he crawled forward very slowly and quietly until he was up against the bedroom door with his ear pressed to it. He could not understand all the words but the sense of their conversation came across to him. The old man was speaking.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t hear; I’m a bit deaf. What do you want?’
The Urkku Jeff replied harshly. ‘We’re looking for the animals. They were seen a while back; at least the owl was, and the dogs have been following them ever since. Right up here to your front door. They must have gone past. Did you not see them?’
The old man replied steadily.
‘What animals? We’ve seen nothing other than the occasional rabbit all morning.’
There was a silence which was almost menacing in its stillness. Even the dogs stopped their barking and growling.
‘Don’t play games with me, old man. You live a long way out but don’t pretend you don’t know what’s going on. If you had seen them, you would tell us, wouldn’t you?’
‘You mean the little group of animals who are rumoured to have a boy and a girl with them. The ones who are supposed to have started the plague. I have heard something of it on the wireless when they have been able to broadcast. No, I haven’t seen them. I didn’t know they were in this area.’
‘They were seen and followed here. To your house.’
‘Well, I shall look out for them; though myself, I don’t believe the stories that have been put round. There’s no proof that the plague began with them.’
Again there was a silence. When the Urkku spoke his voice was low and guttural.