Chapter 7, Mr Badger.
They waited patiently for what seemed like a very long time, stamping in the snow to keep their feet warm.
At last they heard the sound of slow shuffling footsteps approaching the door from the inside.
There was a noise as the bolt shot back and the door opened a few inches enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinking eyes.
"'Now, the very next time this happens,' said a gruff voice, "'I shall be exceedingly angry.
Who is it this time disturbing people on such a night?
Speak up!'
"'Oh, Badger!' cried the Rat.
"'Let us in, please.
It's me, Rat, and my friend Mole, and we've lost our way in the snow.'
"'What?'
Gratty, my dear little man, exclaimed the badger in a quite different voice.
Come along in both of you at once, lost in the snow and in the wild wood too, and at this time of night.
But come in with you.
The two animals stumbled over each other in their eagerness to get inside and heard the door shut behind them with great joy and relief.
The badger, who wore a long dressing gown and whose slippers were down at the heel, carried a flat candlestick in his paw.
He looked kindly down on them and patted both their heads.
This is not the sort of night for small animals to be out, he said.
I'm afraid you've been up to some of your pranks again, Ratty.
But come along. come into the kitchen.
There's a first-rate fire there, and supper and everything.
He shuffled on in front of them carrying the light, and they followed him down a long gloomy passage that finally led to a large fire-lit kitchen.
In the middle of the room stood a long table.
At one end of it, where an armchair stood pushed back, were the remains of the badger's supper.
The ruddy brick floor smiled up at the smoky ceiling.
Plates on the dresser, grinned at pots on the shelf and the merry firelight flickered and played over everything.
The kindly badger thrust the friends down to toast themselves at the fire and had them remove their coats and boots.
Then he fetched them dressing gowns and slippers, and he bathed the mole's shin and mended the cut.
In the embracing light and warmth, with weary legs propped up in front of them.
It seemed to the storm-driven animals that the cold, wild wood just outside was miles and miles away.
When they were thoroughly toasted, the badger summoned them to the table.
The badger sat in his armchair at the head of the table and nodded at intervals as the animals told their story.
He did not seem surprised or shocked at anything.
The mole began to feel very friendly toward him.
When supper was finally finished, they gathered around the great wood fire and thought how jolly it was to be sitting up so late and so full.
After they had chatted for some time about things in general, the badger said haughtily Now then tell us the news from your part of the world.
How's old Toad getting along?
Oh, from bad to worse, said the rat gravely.
Another smash-up only last week, and a bad one.
You see, he's convinced he's a heaven-born driver and nobody can teach him anything.
And all the rest follows.
How many has he had? inquired the badger gloomily.
Smashes or machines? asked the rat.
Oh, well, after all, it's the same thing with Toad.
This is a seventh.
You know that coach house of his?
Well, it's piled up with fragments of motor-cars, none of them bigger than your hat.
He's been in the hospital three times, put in the mole.
And as for the fines he's had to pay, it's simply awful to think of.
Yes, and that's part of the trouble, continued the rat.
Toad's rich, we all know, but he's not a millionaire.
Badger, we're his friends.
We should do something.
The badger went through a bit of hard thinking.
Now look here, he said at last, rather severely.
Of course, you know I can't do anything now.
The two friends quite understood his point.
No animal, according to the rules of animal etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.
All the animals in winter are sleepy, and some are actually asleep.
Well then, went on the badger.
Once the year has really turned.
We, that is, you and me and our friend the mole, we'll all take Toad seriously in hand.
We'll make him be a sensible Toad.
We'll... You're asleep, rat!
Not me, said the rat, waking up with a jerk.
"'He's been asleep two or three times since supper,' said the mole, laughing.
He himself was feeling quite awake.
Being an underground animal, the situation of Badger's house made him feel at home, but the rat, who slept every night in a bedroom with windows that opened up on a breezy river, was not as comfortable with such a dark underground place.
"'Well, it's time we were all in bed,' said the badger, getting up and fetching candlesticks.
Come along, you two, and I'll show you where you'll be sleeping.
And take your time tomorrow morning.
Breakfast at any hour you please.
He led the two animals to a long room that seemed half bedroom and half loft.
The badger's winter stores took up half the room piles of apples, turnips and potatoes, baskets full of nuts and jars of honey.
But the two little white beds on the remainder of the floor looked soft and inviting.
The mole and the water rat shaking off their clothes in some thirty seconds tumbled into their beds with great joy.
The two tired animals came down to breakfast very late the next morning and found a bright fire burning in the kitchen.
Rat cut some bacon, while the mole dropped some eggs into a saucepan and warmed the coffee pot over the fire.
Badger, having already eaten a hearty breakfast, had retired to his study and settled in his armchair with his legs up.
He had a red cotton handkerchief over his face and was being busy in his usual way for this time of year.
When the badger finally entered, yawning and rubbing his eyes, he greeted them in his quiet, simple way.
Mole took the opportunity to tell Badger how comfortable and home-like it all felt to him.
Once well underground, he said, you know exactly where you are.
Things go on all the same overhead and you don't bother about them.
The badger simply beamed at him.
That's exactly what I say, he replied.
There's no security or peace and tranquility except underground.
This is my idea of home.
The mole agreed heartily and the badger got very friendly with him.
But the rat was walking up and down very restless.
The underground atmosphere was getting on his nerves and he seemed really to be afraid that the river would run away if he wasn't in his own home to look after it.
Come along, mole, he said anxiously.
We must get off while it's daylight.
Don't want to spend another night in the wild wood again.
Really needn't fret Ratty, said the badger calmly.
My passages run farther than you think, though I don't care for everybody to know about them.
When you really have to go, you shall leave by one of my shortcuts.
Meantime, make yourself comfortable and sit down again.
The rat was still anxious to get home, so the badger, taking up his lantern again, led the way along a damp and airless tunnel for a weary distance that seemed like miles.
At last, daylight began to show itself through the tangled growth overhanging the mouth of the passage and the badger bidding them a hasty goodbye, pushed them through the opening and retreated.
They found themselves standing on the very edge of the wild wood.
'Rocks and brambles and tree-roots lay behind them in tangled heaps.
"'In front of them was a great space of quiet fields, "'hymned by lines of hedges black on the snow, "'and far ahead was a glint of the familiar old river.'
Pausing there a moment and looking back, they saw the whole mass of the wild wood, dense, menacing, grimly set in vast white surroundings.
They turned and headed swiftly for home, for firelight and the familiar things it played on, for the river that they knew and trusted in all its moods.
