Meerkat Madness Flying High. Ian Whybrow

      

       Dedication

      With love to Amelie, Ella, Fifi and Ted

      and with special thanks to Daniela Maimone,

      the world famous balloonist and photographer.

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Dedication

      Foreword

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Back Ads

       Also by Ian Whybrow

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Foreword

      The behaviour and adventures of the characters in this book are modelled on those of certain actual meerkats still living in the Kalahari. These creatures wish to remain anonymous to protect their privacy. For this reason, their names and their language have been changed. Any similarity between these characters and any meerkat-stars of stage or screen is purely coincidental. Furthermore, any resemblance between Oolooks or Whevubins on safari, actual Click-clicks or Sir David Attenborough is purely in the eye of the beholder.

       Ian Whybrow

       Chapter 1

      It was (as you know) a stormy darktime in the Kalahari desert. On the far side of the old kingdom of the Sharpeyes, on the edge of the salt pans, the sky was nasty with fizz-fire and sky-crash.

      In one snug chamber the founder members of the Really Mad Mob had rolled together into a ball for warmth. They were the three kits, Skeema, Mimi and Little Dream; and their king and guardian, Uncle Fearless. They were never quite still. The place was jumping with ticks and fleas, so there was a lot of jerking and scratching.

      Meanwhile, in another chamber a short distance away, Uncle’s new queen, Radiant, lay awake. Normally she slept well. She was not one for worrying and all that nonsense. She was as warm and hearty and cheery as the sun itself and that is why she was called Radiant. She was tucked up tight in the nursery chamber with her four babies. They were a couple of weeks old now, and tiny, clinging, squirming… and the thing was, they were shivering. Their names were Zora the Snorer, Bundle and Quickpaws. Oh, and Trouble.

      This is Trouble.

      It was the shivering of the babies that woke Radiant up. Soon she became aware that in spite of her own splendid coat of fur, she was cold herself. She couldn’t think exactly what the matter was, but she sensed danger. By instinct, she sprang to her paws and sounded the Snake Alert. Krrrr! Krrrr! Hi!-Hi!-Hi! Krrrooo! Krrrupp!

      Uncle Fearless’s sharp ears twitched and in a split second he too sprang to attention. His one eye flew wide open and he jumped up, rousing the kits and sounding the General Alarm – “Wup-wup! Wup-wup! Action Stations, everyone!”

      “Wha-what is it?” cried Mimi. “What’s happening to me, to Mimi?”

      “Is it a yellow cobra?” cried Skeema, bristling for a fight. He felt in the darkness for his trusty Snap-snap. To you and me it was a plastic bath-toy crocodile that had been dropped by a small boy on a safari holiday. To Skeema, Snap-snap was the powerful friend and protector he had found on one of his first adventures in the Upworld. He nipped his lime-green tail for luck and made Snap-snap shrill in the darkness. Skweee!

      “I dreamed I was up in the sk-sky, flying with the b-birds!” stammered Little Dream, his teeth chattering. “Wh-why is it so c-cold?”

      None of the worried wakers could see a thing in the total darkness, but Uncle Fearless was straining his ears.

      “Silence!” he ordered.

      Uncle ran to the heap of sand that served as the main door to the chamber and tested it with his sensitive nose. “Soaking wet and saturated, by all that creeps and crawls!” he shouted. “The rains must have got into the burrow! Stand by, all paws and claws! Make ready to dam the flood!”

      None of the kits knew what a flood was, but they knew better than to chatter. They waited for their orders.

      “Quick and tricky, now!” urged Uncle. “Batten down the hatches! There’s water coming down the main tunnel. We must block off this door!”

      With the skill and teamwork that comes with hard practice, the kits dug their long, sharp claws into the damp floor and passed sand and soil through their legs to Uncle.

      “Good work, team!” he panted as he piled it into a sizeable dam. “It’s holding! That should keep us dry for a moment longer. Now, follow me out through the side-wall. And hurry! There’s not a moment to lose!”

      The water was trickling into the burrow fast, even down some of the side-passages. As soon as the kits broke out of the chamber, they found themselves in bone-chilling water almost up to their bellies. The shock of it made Mimi cry out. “Prrrr! It’s biting me!”

      “Keep close and keep moving!” ordered Uncle and he began to call “Ki-ko! Preeep!” at intervals. He wanted to let Radiant know that he was safe and not too far away.

      “Do hurry, old thing!” came her faint and muffled reply. “The babies are getting awfully chilly!”

      “Just as I feared, what-what!” muttered