Authors: Adam Frost
Catch That Bat! (11 page)
‘Hang on, hang on,’ said Grandad, holding her back.
‘Let go, Grandad,’ said Sophie. ‘I’m not letting Pat get eaten.’
‘Look, the owl’s just circling at the moment,’ said Grandad, ‘and think about how owls hunt. They listen and they look. Now, Pat’s not making any noise. Not compared to all the mice and rats that are scurrying along the canal this evening. And she’s not moving either. Just sitting there on her patch of moss.’
‘Sorry, Grandad, it’s too dangerous,’ Sophie said, stepping forward.
‘Sophie,’ Grandad said, ‘I know it’s hard to say goodbye to Pat. But she doesn’t belong with you and me. She belongs out there.’
Sophie looked up at him.
‘Give her a chance,’ said Grandad. ‘Let’s see how she does in the big wide world.’
He squeezed Sophie’s shoulder and she nodded.
‘Keep the camera trained on that owl,’ said Terry. ‘Your grandad’s right. He’s unlikely to swoop, but let’s not take any chances.’
Tom continued to point the camera up at the sky.
Grandad and Sophie watched more Daubenton’s circling the tree and crawling into the bat boxes.
‘Do you think one of them is Pat’s mum?’ asked Sophie.
‘Well, those bats knew that this was a good place for a roost,’ said Grandad. ‘Chances are they’ve been around here before.’
Sophie glanced up at the sky again. ‘I still don’t trust that owl,’ she murmured.
Then Tom said, ‘Did you hear that?’
‘Hear what?’ Terry and Grandad said.
‘It’s that fox again,’ Tom said. ‘I recognise its growl.’
They all listened. ‘I hear it too,’ Sophie said. ‘OK, Grandad, it’s officially too dangerous. We have to get Pat.’
‘It does feel a bit dangerous out there,’ Terry said.
‘All of you need to calm down,’ said Grandad with a smile. ‘When you’re as old as me, you’ll realise that animals in the wild are surrounded by predators twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And, believe it or not, most of them make it through to bedtime.’
‘But Pat can’t even fly away,’ said Tom.
They heard a scuffling behind them.
‘It’s the fox, it must be,’ said Sophie.
‘Just wait a second,’ said Grandad, ‘please.’
Tom peered through the camera again. ‘The owl’s gone.’
He paused and squinted again. ‘Oh no, he hasn’t. He’s seen something.’
‘Grandad, PLEASE let me get Pat,’ Sophie begged.
‘She’s fine,’ Grandad said, ‘and she’ll go on being fine.’
Sophie was looking up at the sky and around at the undergrowth. She was convinced that the fox, the owl or maybe even a stray dog was on its way to swallow Pat whole.
‘Look,’ whispered Grandad.
A bat had landed right next to Pat. They all shone their torches at the two bats. The combined light from all four torches made the grass glow red. Pat was twisting around to face the adult bat, who was manoeuvring itself next to her. Pat lifted up her tiny wings and flung herself on top of the adult bat. She fidgeted sideways, gripping with her wings.
Then the adult bat flew off, with the tiny figure of Pat holding tightly on to her back.
‘Pat . . . Pat’s mum,’ Tom stammered.
Sophie couldn’t move or speak. She just stared at the brown shape as it circled one of the bat boxes.
‘They found each other,’ said Terry. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘And you know what the best thing is?’ Grandad said. ‘She hasn’t gone far.’
He nodded at the lowest bat box. Pat’s mum was clinging to the bottom, dragging herself inside.
‘You can come and see her whenever you want.’
Sophie gave a sob of relief and delight.
Tom handed Grandad the camera and said, ‘Owls are amazing, aren’t they? Let’s get into owls next!’
The following morning, Tom and Sophie felt both happy and sad. Happy that Pat had found her mum; sad that Pat didn’t live on Grandad’s boat any more.
They had got used to the routine of feeding Pat her milk and mealworms during the day and then bat-watching on Regent’s Canal at night.
‘It won’t be the same,’ said Tom, as he sat at the breakfast table and munched his cornflakes, ‘visiting Pat in a bat box.’
Sophie nodded. ‘Most of the time we won’t even be able to see her.’
They went to their rooms and got ready for school. When they came back into the kitchen, Terry was waiting for them, chatting to their mum and dad.
‘I’ve got good news and bad news,’ he said. ‘Which do you want first?’
‘Bad news,’ said Tom.
‘Good news,’ said Sophie.
‘Bad news, you dummy,’ said Tom. ‘Then the good news is a nice surprise.’
‘No, good news first,’ said Sophie. ‘Then the bad news doesn’t seem so bad.’
‘Well, it’s all good news really,’ said Terry. ‘First of all, Pat’s settled in nicely. No sign of her being rejected. She’s fitted in with all her aunts, uncles and cousins.’
‘That is good news, I suppose,’ said Sophie, smiling weakly.
‘To be honest, that was the bad news,’ said Terry, ‘because I know you miss Pat and secretly want to look after her again. The good news is going to make up for all that though.’
Mr and Mrs Nightingale exchanged a glance and smiled.
‘The zoo’s got to move a group of nocturnal animals up to Whipsnade Zoo,’ said Terry.
‘Oh,’ said Tom.
‘We need to make sure they’re in safe hands,’ said Terry. ‘You know, PROPER experts.’
‘OK,’ said Sophie.
‘Usually we move nocturnal animals during the day,’ Terry said, ‘take them out of the Nightzone – which confuses them a bit, as they’re used to day being night and night being day. It would be nice if we could move them into a similar environment. Somewhere artificially dark.’
Sophie had twigged and started to grin.
‘So we were looking around for some kind of darkroom,’ said Terry, ‘and for a group of people – you know, maybe a keeper, a vet and two young helpers – who might be able to escort the animals to Whipsnade.’
Tom had cottoned on too and was also grinning.
‘We need to move an armadillo, a jumping rat and a slender loris,’ said Terry, ‘but what’s the best way of getting them to Whipsnade?’
‘Grandad’s barge!’ Tom and Sophie exclaimed together.
Mrs Nightingale said, ‘We thought we could sail up this weekend. It’s a bank holiday so you don’t have to be in school till Tuesday.’
‘You’ll need to check them over every morning,’ Terry said, ‘give them their breakfast, change their bedding. Help your mum if they get sick. Help your dad with any training they need. Think you can manage it?’
Tom and Sophie were too excited to speak, but they nodded very quickly.
‘Excellent,’ said Terry. ‘I’ll bring the animals around on Friday.’
He said goodbye and walked off
The Ark
, leaving Tom and Sophie gobsmacked.
Mr and Mrs Nightingale waited for the children to talk or move but nothing happened.
‘Maybe they’re both bats,’ said Mr Nightingale. ‘You know, they’re making noises but they’re too high-pitched for us to hear.’
Then Tom and Sophie started to squeak with delight.
‘Definitely bats,’ said Mrs Nightingale with a smile. ‘Totally bats.’
ZSL London Zoo is a very famous part of the
Zoological Society of London (ZSL).
For almost two hundred years, we have been
working tirelessly to provide hope and a
home to thousands of animals.
And it’s not just the animals at ZSL’s Zoos in
London and Whipsnade that we are caring for.
Our conservationists are working in more than
50 countries to help protect animals in the wild.
But all of this wouldn’t be possible without your help.
As a charity we rely entirely on the generosity of our supporters to continue this vital work.
By buying this book, you have made an essential
contribution to help protect animals.
Thank you.
Find out more at
zsl.org
