Эрин Хантер: Battles of the Clans

“You should watch Sandstorm sometime, too,” Lionblaze put in. “She can track a mouse from the other side of the forest.”

Bumblepaw frowned at him. “Trees don’t talk!” he reminded the warrior. “This is my demonstration.”

Lionblaze flicked his tail against Bumblepaw’s shoulder. “Sorry!” he whispered.

Bumblepaw reached Purdy’s nose and stretched his neck until he could see Dovepaw and Ivypaw. Still crouching, he explained, “Once the enemy has been spotted, we sneak up until we can almost touch them. Then we wait for the patrol leader’s command—which will be a silent tail signal, obviously—and pounce !” He pushed down with his hind paws and sprang out from behind Purdy. He landed on Dovepaw’s haunches, careful to keep his claws sheathed, and knocked her gently aside.

Then he spun around and reared up toward Ivypaw, striking the air with his front paws.

“Got you!” he yowled.

Ivypaw twitched one ear. “You’re hardly the scariest warrior in the forest. You didn’t even touch me!”

“I wouldn’t keep my claws hidden if it were a real battle, mouse-brain!” Bumblepaw pointed out as he dropped back onto all fours. “I’d bite you and scratch you and slash you with my hind claws until you begged for mercy!”

Lionblaze interrupted him as Dovepaw’s and Ivypaw’s eyes grew even wider. “This tree is breaking its vow of silence to remind you not to give the new apprentices nightmares,” he warned.

Bumblepaw let his fur lie back down. “Well, you get the idea. We strike hard and fast, pouncing all at once to cause as much confusion as we can. Mousewhisker said to scratch the enemies’ ears because they will bleed more than anywhere else, and make it look as if the invaders are hurt more than they really are. Cunning, huh?”

He gazed triumphantly at the other apprentices. Dovepaw still looked startled, but Ivypaw didn’t seem so impressed. “That’s not a battle tactic,” she complained. “That’s just attacking the enemy.”

“Wait, you haven’t heard the rest of the move,” Bumblepaw told her. “This is the really clever bit. After our first attack, our patrol leader gives the order to retreat into the trees. The enemy thinks we’ve given up! But we don’t run far. We stay quiet and watchful, waiting until the invading cats relax, assuming that we’ve disappeared into the forest to lick our wounds. They won’t expect us to attack them again so soon, not here. After all, lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place, does it?” He looked at his audience. “Does it?” he prompted them.

“Er, no, it doesn’t,” Dovepaw agreed.

“But it does this time!” Bumblepaw declared. “As soon as the enemy drops their guard, we strike again, as hard and fast as before, same formation, same attacking moves. Ha! That’s the last thing those mangy crow-furs were expecting!” He leaped forward with his front paws outstretched, imagining his opponents flinching away from him.

“Strike twice in the same place and our enemies will flee in panic, knowing we have the strength to attack anywhere, anytime. ThunderClan will become known as LightningClan !”

1.Move quietly and communicate with signals. Cracking twigs, startled birds, and rustling bracken will tell the enemy exactly where you are.

2.Keep downwind of the trespassers so that your scent doesn’t give you away.

3.Look for freshly broken twigs, overturned leaves on the forest floor, remains of prey, or a clump of fur caught on a bramble. Any animal that moves through the forest leaves behind signs that it’s passed by—and signs like this could lead you straight to the invaders.

4.Keep your mouth open to search for unfamiliar scents. Be careful: If there is scent when there is no breeze to carry it through the forest, it could mean that your enemy is very close by.

5.Light-colored pelts are easily seen against brown and green foliage, so stay in the thickest cover. Keep low—the enemy will be looking for movement at normal head height, not close to the ground.

6.Never miss an opportunity to perfect your tracking ability. In the nursery, kits sneak up on their mothers and pounce with their moss-soft paws. Apprentices leap out on one another from behind bushes and tree stumps. These are more than just games. One day, these skills could save your life and defend your Clan.

Ihurled myself up the tree trunk with my front claws stretched out and my ears flattened. Above me, the fluffy gray tail whisked sideways along a narrow branch and vanished. The faintest rustle of leaves told me that the squirrel had leaped to safety in the neighboring tree.

“Fox dung!” I hissed under my breath, hoping I could catch it before Tigerclaw noticed I’d been too slow up the trunk.

I scrambled onto the branch to follow the squirrel, but it swayed beneath me, spilling me out of the tree. Help! With a yowl, I thrashed my front paws until my claws sank into the bark above my head. Hot-furred with embarrassment, I clung on with my hind legs dangling beneath me, trying to catch my breath.

“Tell me, Dustpaw,” came a politely interested voice below, “when Redtail taught you to swing on branches, did he ever mention that climbing skills could be used to catch prey as well?”

Gritting my teeth, I hauled myself back onto the branch. I knew it wasn’t worth trying to defend myself; Tigerclaw would only take the opportunity to have another dig at my mentor, who was back in the camp with a bellyache after eating an old blackbird. A rustle of leaves on the far side of the tree made me stiffen. Was it another squirrel? Great StarClan, did every squirrel in the forest live in this tree?

I peered past the trunk, trying to see a fluffy gray shape among the leaves. There was a soft chack , followed by the sound of tiny paws pattering along a branch. Suddenly a twig cracked behind me, and I realized that it was the same squirrel taunting me by running circles around my branch. Just you wait till I see you on the ground, you mangy piece of fresh-kill.

Scowling, I lowered myself backward down the trunk and jumped onto the ground. Tigerclaw was waiting for me at the foot of the tree, his hefty paws planted squarely on the leaf mold.

Darkstripe and Longtail stood behind him, watching me with scorn in their eyes. For a moment, I was tempted to challenge them to catch a squirrel from the trees—every cat knew that only the fastest and most experienced hunters went after squirrels above the ground. But I figured that Tigerclaw would know too many ways to punish a cheeky apprentice, so I kept quiet.

A skinny black cat padded up to me. “Bad luck,” Ravenpaw mewed. His green eyes were sympathetic. “I wouldn’t be brave enough to climb that high!”

Tigerclaw glanced sideways at his apprentice, and I winced at the contempt in his gaze. “Which is why I sent Dustpaw after that squirrel. I’d be amazed if you managed to catch whitecough,” the warrior growled. He lifted his head, and a shaft of early morning sun slicing through the trees dappled his fur with frosted gold. “Come on, let’s get back to camp,” he ordered. He led the way along a narrow track through the ferns. Longtail and Darkstripe crowded after him— that’s right, stick close to Tigerclaw if you think it makes you better warriors. Ravenpaw fell into line behind them, his tail so low that the tip left a tiny furrow in the bits of dried leaves.