The Ogre of Oglefort

“I think the Aunt-with-the-Eyes should have it,” he said. “She’s the oldest, so I think it would be fair. I shall expect you to witness my will when I’ve written it. And I shall need a hearse.”

“A hearse takes people to the graveyard for burial, doesn’t it?” asked Ivo. “And you’re only going to go as far as the mound.”

“All the same, I want everything to be done properly. There’s a cart in the shed. You only have to build it up and paint it black and put my name on it. And a skull and crossbones perhaps.”

So that was another job for the rescuers to do.

They saw the gnu several times; he did not seem at all bothered by their presence—but the aye-aye was dreadfully shy. They heard its thin eerie screech, and a couple of times they were close enough to see its strange fingers, thin and long like the fingers of a witch, as it dug in the bark looking for grubs, but it never came down from the trees.

But the aye-aye was not the last of their discoveries.

The glimmer of blue they had seen when they first crossed the drawbridge turned out to be a beautiful lake, large and silent, with water lilies covering the surface. In the middle of the lake was a flat rock, the kind that mermaids used to sit on and comb their hair.

Then one day, after a hard morning’s weeding and digging, Ivo and Mirella went down to the water to cool off. They sat under an overhanging willow and dabbled their feet in the water, and they were just wondering whether to plunge in and have a proper swim, when there was a great swirl on the surface of the lake, and then slowly a head came above the surface. In the head were two round piggy eyes and a huge mouth, which opened to show vast pink gums.

As they watched, the animal pulled itself slowly and laboriously out of the water and heaved itself onto the rock, where it stood for a moment—yawning and shaking itself and looking about.

It was a hippopotamus. Not a full-size beast but a pygmy hippo about the size of a small cow, but with all the characteristics of its bigger brethren. Its hide was smooth and shiny in the sunlight, and it looked very clean and appetizing. A piece of waterweed hung from the side of its mouth, and it gazed at the children for a long moment before it slid into the water once again.

CHAPTER14THE HAG FINDS HER DRIBBLE

But it was not only the unusual animals that were to be found in the ogre’s enchanted gardens. After they had worked steadily all week, the Hag said she thought they should have Sunday off and explore the surrounding countryside.

When they had crossed the drawbridge they all went their separate ways. The troll went off toward the line of trees in the distance; the children followed the stream which fed the lake to see where it led; the wizard wandered along the hedgerows looking for interesting plants for his potions. But the Hag went east, to where the flat ground stretched toward the sea.

She walked on, watching the cloud shadows scudding across the fields. She was worrying about Ivo. He seemed to have settled in to life in the ogre’s castle as though he had been born to it, but of course they couldn’t stay here forever. The ogre would get better, and if the worst happened and he didn’t, then his relatives would come and take over. And she simply could not face taking Ivo back to the Riverdene Home. Would they let her adopt him? Almost certainly not. They were more likely to put her in prison for having abducted him.

She had been so busy worrying that she had not looked carefully enough at the ground. Now she found that she was walking on marshy land. Her shoes were beginning to sink into the soil and make a squelchy noise.

The Hag became alert and excited. She looked down at the plants: bog myrtle and cotton grass and bog asphodel—she knew them all. Now the ground was getting wetter and wetter; the squelchy noise made by her shoes was getting louder. Then a frog plopped up in front of her and disappeared into a puddle. A puddle that was almost a pool. She knew it all so well, the way a puddle could become a pool and a pool become a puddle. She knew the dragonflies that hovered over them, the water boatmen scurrying about on the surface. She looked up at the sky, which was reflected in the still water, and saw the swarm of midges which hovered above her head. Now, as she made her way between a clump of bulrushes, the water was almost over the top of her shoes. Almost, but not quite. Because she was not walking in a lake or a drain or a ditch. She would not sink completely—there would always be enough soil to hold her weight.

The Hag made her way to a boulder sticking out over the surrounding marsh and sat down. She was suddenly overcome with joy. As she sat there quietly she could feel the wetness seep up her stockings and reach her knickers . . . then the bottom of her vest . . . and she closed her eyes, blissfully remembering.

“Oh thank you, God,” said the Hag. “Thank you.”