Dragons in Snow. Judy Hayman
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woke late the next morning and crawled out of her heather wondering why it was so quiet in the cave. She was relieved to see that her porridge was keeping warm on the fire, so she hadn’t been forgotten, even though there was no sign of the rest of the family. It was a still, cold morning; the sun had not yet risen, and the hillside below the cave was white with frost. The stream sounded unusually loud in the frosty air. She huddled closer to the fire as she ate her porridge.
“Good, you’re awake at last!” said a voice from behind, making her jump, and there was Gwen, with Lily riding on her back. “Lily got herself all over porridge this morning. She needed a good wash!”
Lily giggled. “’Tikky!” she said. “You certainly were!” her mother agreed, putting her down.
“Where’re Dad and Tom?”
“They went down to the loch. Some idea that Duncan had. They said they wouldn’t be long. I’ll put some water on for tea when they come back. Do you want the rest of this porridge?”
“Yes please!” said Emily. Her mother passed it over, thinking again that her children’s appetites were growing far too fast. They needed more food! For some reason there had been fewer rabbits on the hills this summer, and they had to be careful not to take too many fish from the otters’ loch. This early frost was bad luck; it would have driven all the snails into hiding. She went into the cave for some nettles, feeling rather worried. Their pile of wild oats was getting smaller too.
As Emily finished her breakfast, she spotted Tom and her father flying back, and shouted a greeting. Lily danced up and down, waving. Gwen came out to make the tea.
“Any luck?” she asked.
Duncan poured mugs of tea and sat down near the fire. “Show them, Tom.”
Tom opened his front claws and showed them a collection of small greyish-white roots.
“Yuk, what on earth are they?” Emily wrinkled her nose, but Gwen looked delighted.
“Des was right!” she said.
“What are you talking about?” said Emily, beginning to feel annoyed. She didn’t like the feeling that she was the only one who didn’t know about a secret, especially if Des was involved.
Duncan finished his tea in a noisy gulp, and decided to explain. “Remember that big round root that Des brought back from the castle? He said it was called a ‘tattie’ and was food that Humans cook.”
“We roasted it in the fire,” Emily remembered. “It was good! But these aren’t tatties!”
“No chance of finding tatties round here. At that castle they’re nearer Human places, and Des said he went foraging at night and dug some up on the edge of a field. Risky of course, but you know Des! Before he left he told me that he had heard about some wild roots like tatties from an old Traveller. Burdock’s one plant that has good roots, and that plant with silvery leaves and wee yellow flowers that grows all over. Well, we found a patch of that this morning, and dug some up. He was right!”
Gwen was looking thoughtful. “I don’t know what they’d taste like roasted, and we might lose them in a fire – they’re so small. But we could add them to stew, to make it more filling. Can we get some more?”
“Lots, if we all dig. It would be easier without this frost, but the sun’s coming up, so the ground might melt a bit. Let’s not waste the daylight.”
Tom proudly led the way down the valley a few minutes later. The patch of Silverweed was in one of the open glades that dotted the woodland not far from the loch. There were areas of scraped earth where Duncan and Tom had been busy earlier, but they set to work, digging into the frosty ground with their sharp talons and loosening the earth round the roots. It was quite hard work and the children were given the task of collecting the roots that were unearthed and piling them on the two square cloths that Ellen had given to Gwen as a goodbye present. The other family had collected quite a lot of useful Human items on their travels; if you held the cloth by its four corners it made a good bag for carrying the roots back to the cave. Even Lily trotted to and fro carrying one small root at a time.
As the sun rose higher the ground became easier to dig, but the dragons got a good deal more grubby in the process. When Lily tripped and fell with a loud wail in the muddiest patch, Gwen called a halt.
“We can’t put much more in the bags without losing them on the way home,” she said. “I’ll take them back to the cave with Lily, clean her up and make the broth. You two have a break. See if you can find any more of the plant on the way to the loch. And have a wash while you’re there!”
“I’ll carry on,” said Duncan. “Don’t want to waste a good digging day. See you later.”
Tom and Emily had quite enjoyed digging. It was fun clawing up the earth and finding the white hidden roots. And they had found a lot, in a very short time. “Good for Des! He really is brilliant!” Emily said as they set off towards the loch.
“Pity they’re no good raw,” said Tom, who had tasted one and spat it out in disgust. “I could do with a snack right now.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” said Emily, pointing ahead. “Beech nuts!”
There was a lot of open beech-mast on the ground around the beech tree, and they crunched happily. Then Tom flew up to the branches, and found a lot more nuts still attached to the branches. “We’d better remember where this is!” he called down. “These would be easier to collect than roots, and nicer too.”
“It will make Mum happier,” said Emily as they set off towards the loch. “I think she’s really worried that our food won’t last the winter. We ate such a lot while the others were here!”
Tom didn’t want to think about their absent friends, so he ran ahead to the loch shore, hoping to see the otters. There was no sign of them, but after a minute or two of gazing over the surface of the water they spotted two round heads, and suddenly Wattie and Lottie were shooting up to the shore and climbing onto their usual rock, shaking the water from their thick coats.
“Wha’ve ye bin daein’?” said Lottie, looking at the muddy snouts and talons of the two dragons.
“Digging roots.”
“Wha’ fer?”
“We cook and eat them,” Emily explained, washing the mud off in the loch and shivering in the cold water. Wattie pulled a face. “Sounds mingin’!” he said. “Comin’ fer a swim?” Tom agreed, took a deep breath and dived in, but Emily shook her head.
“Aye, water’s a bit nippy,” Lottie agreed, climbing off the rock and joining Emily on the shore. “Gettin’ icy further roond. Dad says we’re in fer a bad winter. Loch micht freeze ri’ o’er.”
She trotted away round the shore, and showed Emily a thin skin of ice stretching across a shallow bay. Reeds stuck stiffly through the ice, each rimmed with frost. The sun hadn’t reached this part of the loch and it was cold in the shade.
“How will you manage to fish if it does freeze over?”
“Nae idea. Dad’ll ken wha’ tae dae. We’ll no’ starve. He sez the loch froze richt o’er when he was oor age, an’ they a’ had a great time slidin’ o’er the ice. Mum sez we c’n coorie doon ‘n’ sleep a lot o’ the time, so we dinnae get as hungry in the winter.”
Emily put one foot on the ice, but it cracked and shifted under her.
“Not strong enough yet,” she said. “It will be fun when it is, though. We’d better get back to Dad. TOM!” she shouted as she saw him surface further out in the loch. He waved and started back to the shore. Emily went to meet him, followed by Lottie. He scrambled out, carrying a medium-sized fish in one talon.
“Did you catch that?” she asked, impressed.
“No, Wattie did,” Tom admitted. “He gave it to me. Said they’ve caught lots today.” They