Glenda the Wendle Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3.

 

            GLENDA and the sad noise

 

 

          Glenda woke very early. It was a lovely, sunny morning. The night before, the wind had howled and shrieked around Feggy Wood. She wended her way through Feggy Wood. Everywhere was dripping wet. She did not mind,  Wendles do not wear clothes, so it does not matter if they get dripped on.    That fine and sunny morning, the tree-topper birds were trilling their hearts out. Glenda stood and listened. In the distance, she could hear a treebanger tapping on the bark. From everywhere, there came the sounds of rustlings and scrabblings as the creatures of Feggy Wood did the things they normally did when the sun came up.

Glenda drew in a great big sniff of air and

smelt the grass growing. If you have a very good sense of smell, and you sniff very carefully, you too can smell the grass growing. Glenda put her ear to a tree and listened to it growing. If you have very good hearing, and you listen very carefully, you too can hear a tree grow.

Glenda wended her way through Feggy

Wood, listening. She could hear the digunders in the ground, tunnelling away and hunting for wurrums. She could hear the callapitters chomping away at the leaves in the trees. She could even hear the silk spinners making their silk fly-catchers. These were all happy noises.

Suddenly, very faintly, she heard a sad

sound. Someone sounded very unhappy. Glenda wended her way through Feggy Wood, following the sound. She met a small squeaker. It squiggled down a tree and sat on a tree stump.

 

 

 

The Tiny Squeaker.

 

 “Good morning,” said Glenda. Wendles

are always polite. “Good morning,” replied the tiny squeaker. “Can you hear someone making a sad noise?” asked Glenda. The tiny squeaker put its head on one side and listened. “No, sorry,” it said. “I can only hear the nuts that I buried in autumn in the ground under this tree calling for me to dig them up.”

It jumped down from the stump and

began to dig. Very soon, it found a whole pantry of nuts and began eating. Glenda wended her way through Feggy Wood, following the sad noise.

Soon, she met a tummycrawler. It

sidewaysed up to her.

 

 

 

 

The Tummycrawler.

 

 “Good morning,” said Glenda. “Good

morning to you,” hissed the tummycrawler. “Can you hear someone making a sad noise?” asked Glenda. The tummycrawler turned its head first one way, then the other. “No,” it hissed. “I can only hear the feathereds in the tree, and I am going to catch one for my breakfast.”

It sidewaysed away from Glenda and

slimed itself up the tree. Glenda wended her way through Feggy Wood, following the sad noise. A digunder popped its head out of the ground by her feet. It peeped short-sightedly at Glenda.

 

 

The Digunder.

 

“Good morning,” said Glenda. “Good

morning,” said the digunder. “Can you hear someone making a sad noise?” asked Glenda. The digunder waffled its nose and said, “No, sorry. All I can hear are the wurrums calling me for my breakfast.”

It turned around and disappeared back

into its tunnel. Glenda wended her way through Feggy Wood, following the sad noise.

She came to a small clearing in the middle of Feggy Wood. There, she saw a sorry sight. A tall birch tree was lying on the ground. The wind had brought it down. Standing next to it and making the sad sounds that Glenda had heard was a family of grizzlers.

You have never seen a grizzler? Well, I am not surprised. They are even more shy than Wendles. They only come out at night when no one is around. They look like Wendles, only more so.

They have great big black eyes so that they can see in the dark, but unlike a lot of animals, their eyes do not light up when a torch is shone at them. Their teeth are black too, not because they do not clean them, but so that they can open their mouths at night without their teeth shining white. Their fur is the colour of the night: black, dark green, and browns.

 

 

The Grizzler

 

If you were to go walking in Feggy Wood

in the dark, you would not be able to see a grizzler. However, they would be able to see you very clearly. If you have ever walked in Feggy Wood at night and felt an icy cold wind on the back of your neck, that was a grizzler having fun with you. They are not dangerous; they live on mushrooms, roots, and berries, But they do like to scare people just because they can.

“Good morning,” said Glenda. “This is too nice a day to be sad on.” The grizzler said, “It is not a good morning for us. We do not like to be out in the light. It makes our heads ache.” “Oh, I am sorry,” said Glenda. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 “I am Gary Grizzler, and this is my wife, Gertie Grizzler, and these are our children, Gerry and Grace.” The other grizzlers bowed to Glenda, so she bowed back.

 

 

The grizzler family.

 

Gary went on, “We heard about the

Wendle Ball, so we decided to have an all-night rave for the creatures in Feggy Wood who do not go out in the day. Gertie made a lot of Dark Truckle cakes and Black Truffle pies, and we got lots of Blackberry Wine. All the Nightflyers, the Moonchasers, Howler birds, the Silent Squeaker catchers, and lots of others all came.”

Gertie added, “Even the Furry Purrers turned up, and they are very fussy about where they go.”

Gary nodded. “We danced and sang and feasted. We let the children stay up early as it was their first rave. The noise we made was hidden by the sound of the wind. Then, when the sky began to turn red, everyone said 'Good morning' and began to go home.”

Gertie gave a great big sob. “We brought the last of the Black Truffle pies home with us for breakfast. But when we got here, we found that the wind had blown that tree down right over the door to our nest. We cannot get in, and we really need to curl up and go to sleep away from this dreadful sunlight.”

All four of the grizzlers began to sob, a terribly sad sound.

Glenda went over to the tree. She tried to lift it, but it was too heavy for her.

 

“Perhaps if we all tried together, we might manage,” she said.

The grizzlers and Glenda together could not move the tree.

 

 

The Tell-Tale Bird.

 

A tell-tale bird came and sat on a branch. Tell-tale birds are very nosy. They like to listen to everyone's conversations and then tell everyone else what people are saying.

“You need a treechewer,” it warbled. “There is a family of them by the lake over there.”

Glenda left the grizzlers by the fallen tree and went down to the lake.

 

 

 

 

The Father Treechewer .

 

“Good morning,” she said to a family of treechewers who were sitting and looking sadly at their home.

“Good morning,” replied the Father Treechewer.

Glenda explained about the grizzlers and the birch tree.

“We would love to help,” said the Father Treechewer. “But as you can see, the wind last night blew the lake water all over our house, and it has washed away the mud. Now the house leaks.”

“You need some more mud,” said Glenda.

“Yes,” said the treechewer, “But the soil around the lake is dry, and it is going to take hours to turn it into mud.”

“You need a herd of mud wallowers,” said the tell-tale bird, which had been listening to them. “There are some in Feggy Wood over there.”

 

Glenda went into Feggy Wood and, sure enough, found a family of mud wallowers grubbing around in the bushes.

 

The Mudwallowers.

 

“Good morning,” said Glenda.

“Good morning to you,” said the mud wallowers.

 

“I wonder if you would like to go down to the edge of the lake and turn the shore into mud so the treechewers may mend their house?” asked Glenda.

“We would love to go and roll in some mud,” grunted the mud wallowers. “But we have not had our breakfast yet, and someone has taken all the black truffles.”

“The grizzlers have some Black Truffle pies,” said the tell-tale bird that had followed Glenda into Feggy Wood.

“Follow me,” said Glenda.

She led the mud wallowers to where the grizzlers were sitting, trying to hide under the fallen birch tree.

“If you give the mud wallowers your Black Truffle pies, they will make mud for the treechewers. When the treechewers have mended their house with the mud, they will come and chew up the tree,” said Glenda.

Soon, the mud wallowers had eaten all the pies. They charged off to the lakeside and rolled over and over on the bank, turning it into nice, soft mud. The treechewers came and collected it, slapping it all over theirhouse and filling in all the holes. When every last hole was filled, they came to the grizzlers' home and very quickly chewed the tree into logs’

“This is very nice,” mumbled the Father Treechewer. “There is nothing like a bit of fresh birch bark for breakfast.”

They dragged away the pieces, and with cries of joy and great big yawns, the grizzlers crept into their home. “Thank you,” they cried. They shut the door and no doubt curled up to go to sleep.

The tell-tale bird flew away to tell all Feggy

Wood about the grizzlers. The mud wallowers lay in the mud by the lake and grunted with pleasure. The treechewers put the birch logs in their pantry to eat later and went into their nice, mud-covered home.

Glenda wended her way through Feggy

Wood, back home. She listened to the trees and the grass growing. It was such a happy sound.