Gerald Durrell - The Donkey Rustlers

“Now,” said Amanda, “when are we going to do this?”

“I’ve decided,” said David, “that we must wait for full moon.”

“But that’s not until about ten days’ time,” protested Amanda.

“I don’t care,” said David stubbornly, “it must be full moon. We have got to have enough light to see by and we won’t waste the ten days because there are masses of things that we’ve got to do. Remember, we can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

“I agree with David,” said Yani. “I think it’s essential that we do it at full moon, otherwise it’s going to make the job twice as difficult.”

“All right,” said Amanda reluctantly, “but what are we going to do in the meantime?”

“Well,” said David, “the first thing to do is to take some food over to the island to feed the donkeys when we’ve got them. We don’t know how long we’re going to have to keep them there. We can’t take it all at once, because it would look suspicious, so every day, little by little, we will take some hay and some corn out.”

“Sometimes Coocos can do this at night,” suggested Yani. “Nobody really worries about what he does.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Amanda, and Coocos beamed at her.

“Then,” said David, “we ought to have some practice runs so that we know exactly what we are doing on the night.”

“Yes,” said Amanda. “I think that’s very important. Otherwise we will get muddled up and make a hash of it.”

So during the next ten days the four of them quietly and unobtrusively shifted enough fodder to Hesperides to keep even the most finicky of donkeys happy for at least one week. They also worked out a system of communication by owl noises, the number of hoots varying with the message. They found the easiest path from the village down to the beach opposite Hesperides and walked up and down it until they knew every stone and every twist of it. They also went round the village again and again checking on where the donkeys were stabled at night.

Then at last the moon, which had been a mere silver thread in the sky became round and fat and rose blood-red from the sea and they knew that the time had come for their great endeavour.

“Mother, do you mind if we spend to-night out camping?” asked Amanda one morning. “The moon is so lovely now, we thought it would give us a chance to do some moonlight bathing.”

“Of course not, dear,” said Mrs Finchberry-White. “I’ll pack up some food, shall I? And make sure you take a blanket and that sort of thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Amanda. “I’ll organise all that side of it.”

“Where are you going?” inquired the General, adding a touch of purple to an unfortunate cypress tree. “Not that I am particularly interested, but I feel it might be useful to know in case I have to send someone to rescue you from a shark or something.”

“Oh,” said David. “We are not going very far. Just down to the beach opposite Hesperides.”

Amanda packed up sufficient food for herself and David, Yani and Coocos and, in order to add a certain air of verisimilitude to their story (and to put her mother’s mind at rest) she rolled up a couple of blankets and (on her mother’s insistence) a couple of sheets. Then, at five o’clock, carrying their things, the children made their way down to the beach where Yani and Coocos were waiting for them. Here they lit a fire out of drift-wood and grilled some fish while they waited for it to get dark and for the moon to rise. They had decided to leave the fire alight so that, from a casual observer’s point of view, it would give the impression that they were still on the beach, and it would also act as a beacon for them as to the exact spot on the beach which was closest to Hesperides. David had spent two days working this out with the aid of a length of clothes line and endless mathematical formulae.

Although the children pretended to be very casual about the whole thing, they were all tense with excitement and Amanda, though she would never have admitted it, even felt slightly sick. Presently the moon, round and as red as a drop of blood, lifted itself over the edge of the sea and floated slowly up into the sky turning gradually to bronze and then to gold and finally to silver,

Well,” said David, with an air of nonchalance, “I suppose it’s about time we started.”

“Yes,” said Amanda, swallowing.

“Now, are we all sure that we know what we have got to do?” asked David.

Coocos nodded vigorously, so did Yani and Amanda. They had, after all, been practising it for ten days.

They had decided that their first sortie should be directed against the Mayor. This, they thought, was not only fair, but, apart from that, he owned one of the largest number of donkeys in the village. So they made their way up the hillside and crept with infinite stealth towards the Mayor’s house. The Mayor stabled his horse and his donkeys in a small shed that lay behind the house and so, while Amanda concealed herself behind an olive tree ready to give the alarm should the Mayor suddenly appear, the others made their way round the back of the house to the stables. The door to the stables was an old one and held shut by a heavy wooden bar, and this caused them a certain amount of trouble. The bar had to be lifted out with infinite precautions against noise and the doors eased open inch by inch so that they did not creak. Then the reluctant donkeys had to be led out one by one and tethered to each other and then finally the horse was tethered to them as the leader. They led the string of animals into the olive groves, where Amanda awaited them, twittering with excitement.

“You’ve got them!” she whispered excitedly. “That’s marvellous!”

“Don’t speak too soon,” said David grimly. “Now, if Coocos rides the horse, he can take this lot down to the beach and tether them and then come back.”

“As a matter of fact,” said Amanda, thoughtfully, “that horse might be jolly useful. With it Coocos can go up and down that path very much faster.”

“Yes, you are quite right,” said Yani. “It will be a help, and also I think the donkeys like following it.”

So Coocos was despatched down to the beach with the Mayor’s five donkeys and the children awaited his reappearance.

While they waited, David crept back to the Mayor’s house and pinned to the door of the stable a large notice, which he had got Yani to write out in Greek in rather shaky capitals, which read DONKEYS OF THE WORLD UNITE.

“That should give them something to think about,” said David with satisfaction, when it had been successfully attached to the stable door.

In a remarkably short space of time, Coocos reappeared on the Mayor’s horse and the children continued with their rustling. In a number of cases the job was simplicity itself, for the donkey was simply tethered under a convenient olive tree and all they had to do was untie it and lead it away.

With the donkeys of Philimona Kouzos, however, things were a little more difficult. Kouzos was notorious as being the biggest coward in the village and took infinite precautions to guard both himself and his livestock against the innumerable disasters which — he felt — constantly lurked around him. In consequence, his two donkeys were put in a shed at night, the door of which was firmly closed with a large and ancient padlock. Amanda and David had investigated this and had discovered that with the aid of a screwdriver it was possible to remove the entire lock but the whole process would take some time, So Yani waited round the front of the house in case Kouzos should put in an appearance while Amanda and David went to work with a screwdriver. They were just removing the last screw when the screwdriver slipped in David’s sweaty hands and he dropped it. That would not have been so bad but the trouble was that it fell with a resounding crash on an upturned bucket near the stable door. The children froze instantly and held their breath; in the still night, the sound of the screwdriver on the bucket had sounded like the crash of a bomb. Inside the house they heard stirrings and mutterings.