An hour had passed and the tribal squirrels had not made any more moves towards Hebe. Instead, they had occupied themselves with playing childish games.

Now though they were quiet and Fiddler and Delta watched from their hiding place as a mouse and a rat approached the biggest squirrel.

“Hey!” whispered Fiddler. “That’s Marley and Dogwood!”

“Shh,” cautioned Delta, “listen.”

Marley stared at the old mouse bundled up in the net and then glared angrily at the squirrel. “That’s not him! You stupid squirrels, can you not even tell the difference between a wood mouse and a house mouse?”

The squirrel prodded Marley in the chest. He didn’t take too kindly to being shouted at. “You said get mouse, we got mouse. Not our fault!” The other squirrels started jumping about angrily.

Marley groaned. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Suddenly, loud music started playing and the high pitched squeaks of young mice singing drifted through to the clearing. The squirrels were silent for a moment and then they started their angry chattering as the music grew louder and louder.

Stolen novel; please report.

Fiddler laughed quietly and pointed out two dark shapes looming in the sky. “Help is here. Quiet now, Delta.”

The camera-rat watched in silent fascination as the two barn owls screeched into the night air. One made a dive towards the clearing but the squirrels were too fast and bolted straight for the nearest trees. Marley and Dogwood ran farther into the wood and Hebe, who was hampered by the net rolled to one side and narrowly avoided being taken by the second owl.

Quickly, he scrambled upwards, looking about desperately for help.

“Hebe, here!” cried Fiddler, waving to the old mouse.

As best he could, Hebe dived into the bracken patch. The owls wheeled around the clearing calling to each other. They would stay for a while yet.

Hebe looked up into the grinning eyes of Fiddler. The cunning mouse had stopped the music as soon at the two hunting birds arrived. He winked. “The music of the Mouse Choir always attracts owls. They think their dinner’s singing for them.”

Hebe blew a sigh of relief and allowed Delta to untangle him from the net. “I’m glad I’m a house mouse,” he said. “It’s far safer than livin’ in these woods.”

Delta grinned at them both. “We’re not quite out of danger yet. We’d better get a move on before the squirrels come back for us, or the owls eat us.”

“Right y’ are, mate,” said Fiddler. “I suggest a quick sprint to my house. All game? Go!”

The three friends jumped up and ran fast as their legs would carry them, leaving the clearing far behind.