The Wombles to the Rescue Read Online Free PDF Page B

dark, there were no Human Beings about, although there was a steady stream of traffic on a distant road.
    Shansi began to feel braver and rather less sad and worried and, when she actually saw some crumpled-up pieces of newspaper, she suddenly forgot to be careful and went running off across the grass to pick them up. To reach them she had to go round one small clump of trees and she was so excited that she never noticed that a strange, roundish, flattish object was hanging by a wire from one of the branches. However, it came to her notice very suddenly and rather painfully as she hit it, head-on. There was a loud CLONK and Shansi jumped round and round with her front paws clasped to her nose as she made a noise rather like ‘ Waa-waa-waa-waa . . .’
    Several things now happened at once. The roundish object swung violently backwards and forwards until it got caught up in some brambles, a bright light appeared shining out of a caravan which was parked just beyond the trees (Shansi hadn’t even realised it was there), there was the sound of raised voices and a dog started barking in the distance. An owl, high up in the tree, blinked its large eyes and then swooped down, avoided Shansi by the width of a feather and went silently on its way. Then quite suddenly first one bird and then another began to sing.
    Shansi stopped going ‘ waa-waa-waa ’ and she also stopped hopping about, because she was suddenly so scared by all this that she couldn’t either make a sound or move a muscle. She didn’t even stir when the light got much brighter as a door opened in the caravan and two Human Beings appeared, talking very angrily.
    â€˜I told you it was a rotten place to hang a microphone,’ one of them said. ‘I told you . . .’
    â€˜It wasn’t a rotten place, it was the right place. The owl was in the tree all right and if that dog or person or whoever it was hadn’t barged straight into the mike, we’d have got a splendid recording.’
    â€˜Well, we haven’t . . .’
    â€˜I know THAT . Give me your torch . . .’
    A thin beam of light travelled across the grass and just missed Shansi who was now starting to shiver, although she was still unable to move. Any minute now she would be discovered and probably captured and taken away, and she would be asked questions and all the Human Beings would take photographs of her and get her to tell them about the Wombles. And Great Uncle Bulgaria and all the other Wombles would be furious and would never forgive her, because Wombles like to keep themselves to themselves as much as they possibly can.
    All this flashed through Shansi’s mind as quickly as the beam of light had leapt across the grey-green grass, but even so she just couldn’t move because she felt exactly as if her back paws had been firmly glued to the ground. It was like one of those dreadful dreams when the more you try to run the less you can do so. And then, just as Shansi had shut her eyes as tight as they would go, and had given herself up as captured and lost to all the other Wombles for ever, a new and quite different noise shattered the dawn chorus of the birds.
    It was a howl. It was a yell. It was a shriek. It rose and fell and was so dreadful that all the birds stopped singing and Shansi felt her fur stand right up on end. Even her ears went up. The men stopped only a mere five feet away from her and one of them said in a thick whisper, ‘What on earth is THAT ?’
    â€˜I don’t-don’t-don’t-don’t-know-know-know-know,’ replied the other man.
    Everybody, even the birds, listened and once again the awful, scary, howling sound rang out.
    â€˜It’s a wolf,’ said the first man.
    â€˜It can’t be!’
    â€˜It IS ! A wolf on Wimbledon Common. Quick, quick, the microphone. This will make the story of the year! Hurry UP !’
    The two men blundered right past Shansi and they began to try to get the