Chapter 5                     

The Charge of the Sticklebacks

              

Peter was not happy.  He had slept only fitfully, unable somehow to find a comfortable position, and with such complex issues to deal with there was much on his mind. Add to that his frightening experience a few hours earlier, and his continued hunger it was little wonder he had been unable to settle.

     Despite his long talk with Clarence, and the promise of his help he could not see an easy solution to the problem of the pond. He hoped that he could persuade the warring newt to take a less totalitarian stance, for he still wished to be fair and remain neutral, even though the evidence against Giles was damming.

     "Not a chance." Frederick said when they met after breakfast

     At least he had solved the problem of food, despite the loss of his supper, for there had been no bad reaction from his foraging the day before.  An early morning foray had led to the discovery of a number of other promising plants, eating there and then to assuage his craving.  He realized that during his time in Paradise he would have to become a vegetarian, but he felt that he could live with that.  He shuddered at the thought of the alternative, not relishing for one minute Frederick’s fare, and had politely refused his invitation to join him for meals.

     "You'll not get any change out of Giles." he continued

     "I'll just have to wait to see what Clarence comes up with," Peter said, nodding thoughtfully  "perhaps he might have an answer."

     "I wouldn't put too much faith in him If I were you;" Frederick said with a slight raise in his voice "he's a bit of a lump, and he isn't quite as dynamic as he used to be.  Besides he spends most of his time asleep."

     Peter let the comment pass, merely remembering  Clarence's comments about Frederick, and noting the obvious lack of mutual respect between the two.

     "Who else can we see then?" Peter looked at Frederick  "who else is there who doesn't like what's going on?"

     Frederick sat in thought but said nothing.

     "Come on man" Peter said, raising his voice  "after all it is your battle, and Clarence doesn't think the sticklebacks will cooperate."

     "They should, because after us they will be the next lot that Giles will want to get rid of."

     At last a positive response.

     "Right, let's go.  Can you get a party of you best men together?  If we go in strength we should be safe from their sharp teeth."

     Frederick was far from convinced but he could see that things were getting critical.  It was clear that something had to be done.  He could also see that if there were any more unopposed attacks by the newts his position as leader would be challenged.

     Soon they were off.  Frederick had managed to round up some of his friends, so it was a party of ten that set off to the rougher, deeper, greater, end of the water.

     As they swam Peter was apprehensive. He was quite aware that, despite  his new found expertise in the water, he would be vulnerable if they were attacked.  His only advantage - if indeed it were one - was that he could visualize the pond from above.  So many times he had looked down on it from the higher level of the wood, from where he could see its entire length - somewhat over a mile - its two islands about half a mile apart and close to the north bank. Nearer the wood, at the South West corner the small river rushed in, only to be brought to heel by the large body of water. The north bank, shallow with extensive reed beds was split by the cragy nose of a rocky escarpment, which pointed to, and seemed to connect underwater, to its smaller cousin on the south bank. Indeed, these noses were all that was left of a ridge which formed the edge of the original pond, blasted away during the nineteenth century, when the dam was enlarged to increase its volume of water. More power had been needed for a new mill, and by removing the ridge a little valley was flooded, and the original pond was increased ten fold. The pond was now a lake, and yet it  continued, through all the years, to be known as Paradise Pond.

     Because of his knowledge of the plan of the lake Peter knew that the river entered the lake at a point at the far end  near the south west corner. He knew that this was beyond their destination, for the sticklebacks had colonized a small bay  across which the new water swept. He also knew that when they had passed the jut of the south 'nose' they left the comparative safety of their end of the lake. The further they went from there, the nearer they were to the sticklebacks.

   It didn't seem long before they started to sense the presence of fresh water, and they knew that they were nearing dangerous territory, for this was the sticklebacks stronghold. Fast clean water, a rocky bed with lots of crevices and other places to hide.  With rather less plant life than elsewhere, it was a place that was easy for the sticklebacks to defend from predators, but from which they could launch their own attacks.

     Beyond stickleback-land, and across the current of the incoming river, a long grassy finger of land diverts the fast water away from northern half of the pond, the part favoured by the newts. An extensive part of the lake; it takes a broad sweep skirting the western then the northern banks, but shielded from the incoming water by that long spit of land.  

    That is the home of the growing newt colony, shallow and torpid, some half a mile across the lake from the sticklebacks.  The colony itself being well protected by the small pendant shaped island, lying at an angle from the bank. Its broad end is separated from the bank by little more than a bulrush wet-land, while its sharp end points towards the deep central and part of the lake.  Further protection to Newt Island is afforded the rocky north point, equally prominent from that end of the lake. Beyond that in the smaller end of the lake is frog territory with it’s own island.  Frog island, though somewhat smaller than Newt Island,  provided some protection for  the frogs main colony, situated between the island and the curving North East bank. So the two main protagonists of the great pond war were both on the north side of the pond, but separated by the considerable grass topped rocky prominence of point, or, as Peters grandfather always called it, the north nose

      Peter had tried to visualize every aspect of the lake to maximize his chances of success, and it was from behind Frog island and skirting the swamp that the little band of frogs set forth, and, once they had passed the ‘points’, staying as close to the south bank as possible, to keep the maximum distance between themselves and the newts.  At first there was plenty of cover in the form of bottom plants and stones, lush and close, as well as a forest of taller plants that pushed their heads out of the water. If necessary they would be able to leave the water where they could at least out jump their enemies.  At first there progress was unhindered, but this was soon to change.  The critical moment had been when they passed between the points, for once beyond them they had left behind the protection of 'their' end of the lake. Slowly they swam into deepening water   After a while they could feel the current from the incoming river as it swept in from the far end of the lake before losing its force.  It was slight but noticeable to sensitive water creatures, and also to Peter, for that is what he had become. They also noticed a change in the terrain where the plant life was less dense, and with open water between plant tops and the surface, there were fewer places to hide.  They were now in dangerous enemy waters, for not only were they getting closer to stickleback country, they were also in the newts half of the lake.  They were all aware of their situation, and though they knew that the newt settlement was on the opposite bank,  they also  knew that a scouting party might easily come upon them.  Extra vigilance was now called for as they moved cautiously forward.

     Suddenly, out of the blue they came; hundreds of them, weaving and

swirling, ducking and diving, in and out, scattering the frogs and their leader in seconds.

     "Keep together." Peter shouted, but it was a forlorn hope.  They were untrained and had no sense of discipline, unlike the attacking stickleback horde who were used to this kind of team work; used to working as a pack.  In less than a minute Peter and Frederick's band of unwilling warriors were routed and in retreat.

     As fast as they could they retreated all the way back to South Point, but after waiting for five minutes it was clear that they were now reduced to eight

souls.

     "I'm sorry Frederick."  Peter said, "You have lost two brave members of your team.  I can't ask you to try again."

     "What are you going to do?"

     "I'll have to go on my own."

     "Oh don't be daft! What good will that do?  You've seen for yourself what will happen.  Ten seconds; that's all I'd give you."

     "Perhaps they thought we were a raiding party."  Peter said  "After all, they were only defending their territory ... and they didn't follow when we retreated did they?"  He paused to clear his mind. "I'll have to try again, and if you can't, or won't come with me, then I must go on my own."

     He didn't wait for an answer, but launched himself into the undergrowth, his deft movements taking him in and out of the waving greenery.  After a while he stopped and pulled out a long stalk, at the top of which was a lush growth of pale green foliage.

     "What are you going to do with that?" asked Frederick.

     "I shall wave it at them." Peter replied, as he busied himself removing some of the strands so as to get a better grip.

     "What good will that do?" Frederick asked, not understanding.

     "It will tell them that I come in peace, and wish them no harm.  Wish me luck." and with that he moved forward, not trying to hide, but swimming well clear of any possible cover.  He wanted to be seen.

     He held his flag of peace in front of him, but for the first time in the watery wonderland he was aware that his swimming skills were not all that they might be, for try as he may he could not wave  his flag in front of him and swim with dignity at the same time. He found himself turning over or twisting sideways, and once his flag went between his legs and he nearly lost it trying to get it back. This was a big disappointment to Peter, for he felt sure that the sticklebacks would understand his intention.  But it was no good; he just couldn't manage it - he would have to let it go.

     No sooner had he made that decision than he felt it being taken from his grasp.  Peter spun round to find Frederick holding his flag aloft, having no difficulty at all keeping it there as he moved forward.

     "What are you waiting for?" he called  "Haven't got all day you know."

     "You're a hero." Peter called out to his friend.

     "More likely a bloody fool if you ask me."