Search for the Sunlight

Above the gully, the Peckwoods had gathered formation again. This time, they had arranged themselves into two groups. The first group, made up of the larger and less streamlined of the beasts, maintained a steady spiral formation, while the leaner and more menacing of the flock peeled off one at a time and dived like darts towards the frightened Treewoods.

“Oh my days!” Harry gasped, hooking his thumbs under his vine braces and stretching them out at arms length in a bid to help himself breath more easily. Little did he suspect that his innocent actions would result in a brilliant idea.

“Quickly! Unfasten your braces and hold them up above your head,” Basil ordered, then he began emptying the contents of his lapsack out onto the ground. He was looking for something. Puzzled by Basil’s strange request, Harry looked at his brother and then at the Constable. He was fully expecting them to burst out laughing at any moment, but with no response from either, he simply shrugged his shoulders and did as he was told.

Eventually, from somewhere amongst his belongings, Basil found what he was looking for.

A small Hessian sack full of wrinkled marshmelons and a rusty fruit pump. He had packed them before leaving home, in the event that they might come in useful somewhere along the way.

Sherlock and the brothers watched with intrigue as Basil tore the stalk from one of the withered melons. He inserted the air line into the small opening and began pumping until the fruit was about three times its normal size. Quickly checking the taught skin for punctures, he loaded the inflated missile into Harry’s vines, pulled them back like a giant catapult and let go… The sticky pink fruit took off into the midst of the diving flock and, with a loud SPLAT struck one of the incoming predators head on.

Like an out of control box kite in a gale force wind, the gum-entangled monster spiralled helplessly towards the ground and exploded violently on impact. The mighty bang was followed by a brief silence, then, with a loud “HOORAY!” cheers and hats went up in the air as Harry, Herbert and Sherlock congratulated Basil on his ingenuity and excellent marksmanship. The Peckwood battle had begun in earnest.

In spite of their early success, Basil was quick to point out that one dead Peckwood did not constitute victory. The enemy had lost their second-in-command to a lucky strike from a stray marshmelon, and now they would be more determined than ever to reduce the nuisance Treewoods to sawdust. With fire billowing from their nostrils and revenge in their hearts, the angry predators broke formation and screamed towards the gully like suicide pilots.

This time, Sherlock took control of the fruit pump while Basil loaded up. Just like before, he positioned the inflated fruit carefully into Harry’s vines, pulled them back to their extreme and let go. Once again, the inflated marshmelon ripped through the enemy ranks and moments later, a second gum entangled monster fell from the sky.