Chapter 12 The Piper at the Gates of Dawn Mole lay stretched on the bank waiting for his friend Rat to return.
It was past ten o'clock at night, but it was still too hot to think of staying inside.
The Rat's light footsteps were soon heard approaching.
You stayed at Otter's for supper, of course, said the Mole presently.
Simply had to. said the rat.
Mole, I'm afraid they're in trouble.
Little Portly is missing again, and you know what a lot Otter thinks of him, though he never says much about it.
What?
That child, said the mole lightly.
He's always straying off and getting lost and turning up again.
But this time it's more serious, said the rat gravely.
He's been missing for some time now, and the otters have hunted everywhere without finding the slightest trace.
Otter was going to spend the night watching by the shallow part of the river.
You know the place where the old fort used to be before they built the bridge.
I know it well, said the mole.
Well, it seems that it was there he gave Portly his first swimming lesson.
Continued the rat, and it was there he used to teach him fishing.
And there young Portly caught his first fish, which made him very proud.
The child loves the sport, and so Otter is there now waiting on the chance.
You know, just the chance.
They were silent for a time, both thinking of the same thing the lonely animal crouched by the riverbank, watching and waiting the long night through.
Rat, said the mole, I simply can't turn in and go to sleep and do nothing.
We'll get the boat out and paddle upstream.
The moon will be up in an hour or so, and then we will search as well as we can.
Just what I was thinking myself, said the rat.
They got the boat out and Rat took the oars, paddling with caution.
At last the moon lifted with slow majesty till it swung clear of the horizon.
Fastening their boat to a willow.
The friends landed in the silent silver kingdom and patiently explored the ditches and old dry riverbeds.
Embarking again.
They worked their way up the stream in this manner till the moon sank earthward and left them in the early morning.
The horizon became clearer.
Fields and trees came more into sight, and the mystery began to drop away from them.
A bird piped up suddenly, but it was a song like nothing Rat had ever heard.
He listened closely.
Mole, who was just keeping the boat moving with gentle strokes, didn't hear it.
He looked at Rat with curiosity.
It's gone. sighed the rat, sinking back in his seat again.
He was truly enchanted by the magical sound.
I almost wish I had never heard it.
Nothing seems worthwhile but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it forever.
There it is again, he cried.
Oh, Mo.
Beauty of it, such music, I never dreamed of.
Row on, Mole, row.
Mole still hadn't heard the sound, but he rowed steadily and soon they came to a point where the creeping tide of light gained and gained, and now they could see the color of the flowers at the water's edge.
Clearer and nearer still, cried the rat joyously.
Now you must surely hear it.
Breathless, the mole stopped rowing as the sound of glad piping broke on him like a wave.
It wasn't a bird song at all.
Still, it was a song as beautiful as any bird, as beautiful as any sound rat and mole had ever heard.
Slowly, but with no doubt or hesitation whatever, they tied up their boat at the flowery edge of the island.
In silence.
They landed and pushed through the undergrowth that led up to the level ground till they stood on a little lawn of a marvelous green, set around with orchard trees, crabapple and wild cherry.
Suddenly, the mole felt such a great wonder fall upon him that he bowed his head and rooted his feet to the ground.
They both felt that they were in the presence of great power.
Mole turned to look for his friend and saw him at his side trembling violently.
There was utter silence in the bird-filled branches.
Mole could not help but raise his eyes, even though he was shaking with fear.
He found himself looking into the eyes of a magnificent new creature.
Mole saw the backward sweep of a curved horn gleaming in the growing daylight.
He saw kindly eyes that were looking down on them humorously, while a bearded mouth broke into a half-smile.
And he saw a long hand holding a gleaming set of pipes.
Finally, he saw the splendid curves of shaggy limbs and, nestling between the creature's hooves, the round form of the missing baby otter sleeping safely and soundly in peace.
Sudden and magnificent, the sun's golden disc showed itself over the horizon.
The first rays that shot across the level water took the animals full in the eyes and dazzled them.
When they were able to look once more, the creature had vanished.
Poorly.
The otter woke up with a joyous squeak and wriggled with pleasure at the sight of his father's friends who had played with him so often in past days.
The rat looked long and doubtfully at the hoof marks deep in the ground.
Some great animal has been here, he murmured thoughtfully.
For a long while, neither he nor Mole said anything.
Come along, Rat, called the Mole finally.
Think of poor Otter, waiting by the riverbank.
As they drew near the familiar riverbank, they lifted Portly out and set him on his legs on the path toward his father, gave him a farewell pat on the back and shoved out into Mint's dream.
They watched the little animal as he waddled along the path contentedly.
Looking up the river, they could see the otter start up, tense and rigid, and could hear his joyous bark as he bounded up onto the path.
As they rode home up the river, both animals thought of the magnificent creature.
They had seen the power of its strange music and the way it had led them to Portly.
Rat wanted to say something to Mole, and Mole wanted to say something to Rat, but neither could think of words for what they had seen.
So they paddled along in silence, comforted by the calmness and peacefulness of the early morning.
