33 Attack!

[Stephen Whiteside]

33 Attack!

© Stephen Whiteside 16.11.2011

Horatio and Magnifico burrowed under the leaf litter in an attempt to stay dry, and out of sight. Before they knew it, they had both fallen fast asleep.

They were woken by the most terrific noise, as though the world was coming to an end. The most ferocious thundering that shook them to their very bones, followed by an ear-piercing splintering like a shriek of pain. They stayed shivering in their little hidey-hole, scared out of further sleep, yet too frightened to face the world, until first light.

Horatio gingerly nuzzled his way to the surface, followed by Magnifico. Their nostrils and whiskers were working furiously, as they strained with all their senses to try to come to terms with the momentous events of the previous night.

Horatio saw it first. A huge gum tree very near them had been struck by lightning. It still stood, but a large section of its bark had been torn away and now reached down to the ground.

Well, it’s an ill wind, that’s all I can say!



What do you mean?

See this huge strip of bark here? It’s thick and dry. Perfect for our needs. If we can somehow chew or tear off a small portion, we have our river raft!

Of course! Well done, Horatio!

And so the two set to work. It was tough going. The bark was thick and fibrous, and they were working against all the natural cleavage lines. They made absolutely no impression whatsoever with their claws. It would have to be their teeth. They found they could indeed sever the fibres this way, but it was exceedingly slow work. Still, there was no alternative. If we can walk an inch we can walk a mile, thought Horatio, and the two took up position on either side of the length of bark.

Of course, they were now very exposed, and the first rays of day-light were well and truly lighting up the world. They thought it was probably by now too late for owls, but one owl in particular did not know that.

The attack came without warning. Horatio felt the most excruciating pain in his left shoulder. Instinctively he twisted violently, partially freeing himself from the mighty talon. The owl paused briefly to change its grip. This gave Magnifico, darting unseen from the other side of the bark, just enough time to race across the top and sink his teeth into the wing of the owl. It gave a hoot of pain, released Horatio completely, and attempted to fly away. With Magnifico secured to its right wing, however, it didn’t get far.

Magnifico got the fright of his life to feel himself swept up into the air, hanging on by nothing more than his teeth. The wing beat twice only, and they were very small beats by the usual standards of an owl’s wing, but each beat seemed to take Magnifico to the very edge of his life. Up and then down. Up and then down. His whole body was suspended by his two front teeth, and the bones in his neck seemed to be taking an absolute hammering. He felt his grip changing as the muscle in the owl’s wing began to tear. Fortunately, the owl landed once more several feet away. Magnifico released his grip, and the owl took off.

Magnifico had landed unharmed, though his teeth and neck ached a bit. His first thought was to find Horatio. He had only travelled a short distance, but in the chaos of the forest floor it seemed a lot further. He thought he knew which direction to travel in, but it was over this, under that, around this, and it took an age. In their now highly vulnerable position, he dared not cry out.

Half an hour later he found Horatio, panting heavily, a trickle of blood snaking down to the ground from his wounded left shoulder, where it reached a small pool amongst the leaf litter.

Horatio, it’s me, Magnifico! Are you all right?

Horatio looked stunned. Glassy-eyed. Magnifico was not sure that he recognised him.

It’s me, Magnifico. You’ve been badly wounded. We have to clean you up, and get you somewhere safe.

Still no response.

Magnifico was terrified that the smell of fresh blood would attract further unwelcome visitors. Horatio seemed unwilling to move, so he decided to lap up the fresh blood around the wound. Perhaps the stimulation would also force some sense into him.

Horatio was quite a lot taller than Magnifico, but Magnifico found that, standing erect on his back legs, with his forefeet resting against Horatio’s body, he was just able to reach the wound with his mouth. His long pink tongue worked quickly, lapping up the hot, sticky blood. It tasted metallic, and was probably very nutritious. He hated the idea of benefitting in any way from his friend’s misfortune, yet he was beginning to steel to life in the wild, and part of him did not feel guilty at all.

The bleeding appeared to have stopped, which was a major blessing. Magnifico had no idea what he would have done if the blood had continued to pump from the base of the wound. He then made his way systematically down Horatio’s fur, mopping up the narrow trickle of blood. About two thirds of the way down he found that the blood had congealed, and would not come away with his tongue alone. It needed to be chewed, and there was not time for that.

Magnifico tried again. Horatio! Horatio! Can you hear me?

Horatio turned his head. There seemed more life in his eyes now.

You’ve been badly wounded. We have to move to safety. Will you follow me?

Horatio made no response, but Magnifico decided to lead by example. He moved off a short distance along the forest floor. To his great relief, Horatio followed.