Merry Meerkat Madness. Ian Whybrow

the Click-clicks first brought his tribe to the land of the Sharpeyes, where I was King and Lord of Far Burrow. They were tall and clumsy, but I soon tamed them, what-what!”

      “Hooray!” cried the kits. “Well done, Uncle!”

      “Shhh! Not too loud! You’ll disturb the babies!” chuckled Fearless. A tick on his belly suddenly did what ticks do. Fearless curled up and nibbled at it furiously… “Mmm-nnnyung, you blighter!” …and then went on. “I wandered freely among their flapping pointy mounds. Free as a bee. I had no fear of being trampled, not me, oh no! Fearless by name, and all that! Now, on this particular suntime, they all put on their brightest colours and gathered together for a feast, noisy as hyenas. Then they turned a large bird round and round over a circle of fire and gave each other lumps of it to eat!”

      “Was it a martial eagle?” asked Mimi eagerly.

      “Or an eagle owl?” asked Skeema, thinking of their worst enemy.

      “Serve them right!” Little Dream piped up.

      “Hush! Voices down!” said Uncle, who had no idea. “It was one of those, I expect. And then,” he continued dramatically, “the Click-clicks danced and sang and they covered the tree with bright lights and with shiny creepers, just as you saw the Tick-tocks do.”