The Wombles to the Rescue (11 page)

‘Sludge and buttercups?' said the other man, shaking his head. ‘I wonder, could we have your name, sir?'

Orinoco, truthful as all Wombles are even in the most difficult situations, gave it, slightly indistinctly owing to the fact that the toffee had got stuck to his front teeth. He then bowed politely and trailed off through the bushes while the men watched him.

‘What an extraordinary character,' said the larger man whose name was Terry. ‘I'm sure I've seen him somewhere before. Perhaps on TV. What did he say his name was?'

‘Orin Wandle,' said the dark-haired man whose name was John.

‘Yes, I'm sure I've heard of him. I think he's a professor. Yes, yes, Professor Orin Wandle. He's one of the world's great experts on the Energy and Food Crisis. Surely
you've
heard of him?'

‘Oh yes,' said Terry in an offhand way, ‘yes, yes.
And
we've got him on film! We'll put him in the programme.'

Which is how Orinoco became the first Womble to appear on television and to give some sensible, down to earth advice on ways to deal with shortages of this and that. The older Wombles, when they heard about it, were very cross, but the younger members of the burrow thought it was marvellous and kept on asking him for his autograph. But Orinoco never got big-headed about his sudden fame, because the name they made him sign was ‘Orin Wandle'.

‘Lot of nonsense,' grumbled Tobermory, who was in a bad temper, because the brace and bit had finally broken completely, which had made it very difficult for him to repair the shelves, the other doors and everything else. ‘Thank goodness Great Uncle Bulgaria gets back tomorrow. He can't get here a moment too soon for me and that's a fact.
Tsk, tsk, tsk!
'

.

Chapter 11

Remember You're a Womble

‘Well, it is pleasant to be home again,' said Great Uncle Bulgaria.

‘Nice to have you back,' said Tobermory with such an enormous sigh of relief that his bowler hat lifted off his head. He took it off and wiped round the inside and replaced it. ‘What was it like in America, Bulgaria?'

‘Our American cousins were most hospitable,' said Great Uncle Bulgaria after the slightest pause, ‘perhaps a little too much so occasionally. They can be somewhat overwhelming. But kind, extremely kind. Cousin Yellowstone sent you his warmest regards.'

‘Kind of him.'

‘Ho-hum,' agreed Great Uncle Bulgaria looking over the top of his spectacles, his little eyes twinkling. ‘By the way, Tobermory, I brought you back a small present. Allow me to give it to you.'

It was a parcel which was surprisingly heavy for its size and as Tobermory neatly undid the wrappings he couldn't imagine what it could be. It was the most expensive kind of brace and bit. Not quite new of course, but in first-rate condition nevertheless.

‘My word. Well.
Tsk, tsk, tsk
,' said Tobermory, brushing up his grey moustache with the back of his paw. ‘Exactly what I wanted. Many, many thanks, Bulgaria. But how did you
know
?'

‘I didn't. I just reasoned that you'd have a great deal of repair work to do and that your old what-yer-me-call was in a shaky condition so that you'd probably need a replacement. I got this one from Yellowstone's stores. Dear me, Tobermory, you've no idea of the
amount
of stuff that those American Wombles have got put away. Shelf after shelf, room after room. You'd find it fascinating!'

‘Wimbledon's good enough for me,' said Tobermory. ‘If I feel like a change I'll drive up to see the MacWomble the Terrible in Scotland. That's as far as I mean to go at my time of life. But what was the Conference like, Bulgaria?'

‘Interesting. Constructive. I'll tell you all about it when we have our little party,' said Great Uncle Bulgaria a shade evasively. He added, ‘The trip has done young Bungo good. Silly sort of name but it suits him. Knocked some of the bounce out of him. Those American Wombles were
FAR
bouncier. Ho, ho, ho. But tell me, Tobermory, what has been happening here?'

‘After you've had a good day's rest,' said Tobermory. ‘You're looking remarkably well, Bulgaria, but you've had a long journey. We'll tell you everything at the party. Sleep well, Bulgaria, old friend.'

The rest of the burrow was fairly humming with excitement for the next few hours, although all the Wombles were supposed to be resting. Somehow everything seemed completely safe and pleasant now that Great Uncle Bulgaria was home, added to which, of course, the burrow was now a great deal more comfortable than it had been when he left. Finally there was the picnic down by the Mere to look forward to.

At dusk all the Wombles lined up with their tidy-bags full, not of litter on this occasion, but delicious packets of food and cartons of drink. They were all nudging and pushing and whispering until Great Uncle Bulgaria came out of his study and then everybody cheered. They cheered so loudly that the sound reached Cousin Botany who, as usual, was working away with his beloved plants in the underwater farming rooms.

‘Now what would that be for, I wonder?' said Cousin Botany, pushing back his awful old hat and scratching his chin.

He soon found out, because ten seconds later Tomsk put his head round the door and said in his rumbling voice, ‘Come on, Cousin Botany, picnic time. You've got to be there, because,' and then Tomsk stopped suddenly and grinned. He took hold of Cousin Botany's arm and gently but firmly marched him off to join the others.

The moon was coming up and all the Wombles gathered round Great Uncle Bulgaria, who was sitting on a stool a little way up the bank. Tobermory and Madame Cholet came into view pushing the wheelbarrow, lodged inside which was a strange square object which was Tobermory's patent picnic stove. He pumped up the pressure and got it going and Madame Cholet placed a simply enormous frying pan on the top, and began to fry some little round, flat, green, biscuity-looking things. The smell was so delicious that everybody stopped talking (even Bungo who was rapidly becoming his old bossy self again) and just sniffed.

‘Plates, plates, one at a time,' said Madame Cholet and on to each pretty blue and white newly made plate she slid one of these biscuity things.

‘How tasty, how extremely tasty,' said Great Uncle Bulgaria when he had finished his down to the last and tiniest crumb. ‘I've never had anything like it before. What is it?'

.

.

Madame Cholet waved her cooking slice at Cousin Botany, who still seemed to be in something of a dream.

‘It is my latest culinary invention,' said Madame Cholet, ‘and I wish to call it a “Botany Burger”, as without
cher
Cousin Botany it could not have been made.'

Everybody clapped, even Cousin Botany, until he realised they were congratulating him, whereupon he seemed to become very interested in the faded ribbon which ran round his hat. Great Uncle Bulgaria looked thoughtful and ate the rest of his picnic without speaking. He was preparing himself for his speech. It was quite astonishingly short.

‘Wombles of Wimbledon,' said Great Uncle Bulgaria, leaning on his stick and looking over the top of his spectacles at all their interested faces in the moonlight. ‘Bungo and I have travelled a good many thousand miles during the last weeks. We have met some of the oldest and wisest Wombles in the world, all of whom had gathered together to discuss the problem of world shortages of this and that. And what did we discover?'

Nobody moved, they just stared, wondering whatever was coming next. It sounded very,
VERY
serious.

‘That every single solution these wise old Wombles put forward at the Conference had already been thought of. And what's more, put into practice!'

‘Really?' said Tobermory.

‘Good gracious me!' said Miss Adelaide.

‘
Alors!
' said Madame Cholet.

Everybody else looked at his or her neighbour in wonderment.

‘By whom, you may ask,' said Great Uncle Bulgaria, as nobody had asked. ‘I'll tell you. By all of you. When you were all sleeping this afternoon I had a stroll round the entire burrow.'

‘I might have known it,' Tobermory said under his breath.

Great Uncle Bulgaria went on serenely.

‘What did I find? I found a flourishing underwater farm. A farm which I now realise can produce such delicious delicacies as Botany Burgers! I found plastic being used in an entirely new way. I found . . . but you know all about it, because
you
were the ones who had all these ideas and put them into practice. Wombles of Wimbledon, I congratulate you and I'm proud of you and all your hard work.'

Everybody felt very proud of themselves and also rather shy and then Great Uncle Bulgaria clapped his white paws together and said briskly, ‘And now let's have some music. Come along, young Wombles, you've sat still for long enough. Now you'd better take a bit of exercise.'

‘I'll tell you what,' said Bungo as he and Orinoco, Alderney and Shansi, Wellington and Tomsk, lined up for a Womble barn dance, ‘America's all right, but it's not half as good as Wimbledon Common. Of course it's
bigger
. I'll grant you
that
, but I'll tell you what . . .'

‘No, you won't,' said Tomsk, picking his friend up by the scruff of his neck and turning him round. ‘You'll shut up.'

‘Oh, it's smashing being back,' said Bungo, grinning right across his face, and as usual taking absolutely no notice of what anybody else said. ‘Are we ready then? A-one. A-two. A-three and away we go, altogether now!

‘Remember you're a Womble, remember you're a Womble . . .'

g

The Wombles Who's Who

MADAME CHOLET . . .

. . . is a brilliant Womble cook and her blackberry and apple pie is famous throughout Wombledom. She is very inventive and can turn her paw to any recipe, using ingredients the young Wombles gather on the Common. She is very kind but can get cross when young Wombles interrupt her cooking, especially Orinoco!

TOMSK . . .

. . . is the largest of the young Wombles and is very good at sport. He may not be good at reading or writing but he is brilliant at getting Wombles out of tight spots when a bit of strength is called for.

WELLINGTON . . .

. . . is rather shy, very clever and he is the smallest of the Wombles. He loves reading, inventing things and helping Tobermory in his Workshop. Some of Wellington's inventions are really very good but he always apologises for them!

ORINOCO . . .

. . . is the fattest, greediest and laziest of the young Wombles. His favourite job is ‘helping' Madame Cholet to taste recipes in the kitchen. He doesn't like tidying-up duties on the Common and usually finds a bush to hide behind and have a nap, saying, ‘I'll just have a nice forty winks'. Quite often he is woken up by another Womble's adventure.

BUNGO . . .

. . . is one of the youngest working Wombles. Even though he has not been on tidying-up duties as long as the other young Wombles, he is rather bossy and thinks he knows the answer to everything. He's usually wrong! Great Uncle Bulgaria sometimes looks at him over the top of his spectacles and says, ‘Bungo! Silly sort of name, but it suits him'.

TOBERMORY . . .

. . . is extremely clever with his paws and runs the Womble Workshop. The young Wombles bring him all kinds of rubbish and broken objects that they find on the Common. Tobermory takes off his bowler hat, scratches his head for a moment, and then mutters, ‘Problems, problems', before turning the rubbish into something very useful.

GREAT UNCLE BULGARIA . . .

. . . is over 300 years old and is the wisest of the Wimbledon Wombles. To keep warm he wears a MacWomble tartan shawl, and his favourite newspaper is
The Times
. Great Uncle Bulgaria can be strict and turn a young Womble into jelly when he looks at them over the top of his spectacles and says, ‘
Tsk
,
tsk
,
tsk
, young Womble'. However, he is also very kind and it is to him that the Wombles turn for help and guidance.

ALDERNEY . . .

. . . is a pretty young Womble who is in charge of the burrow's tea trolley. As the Wombles love their food this is an important job which she enjoys. Alderney is also a bit headstrong and can lead other young Wombles into scrapes.

MISS ADELAIDE . . .

. . . is in charge of the Womblegarten. This is where the very young Wombles learn about all things Womble, as well as reading, writing, arithmetic and, of course, recycling. Miss Adelaide is strict but fair and always wants the best for her charges. She likes to keep busy so when she's not teaching she can often be found knitting in the kitchen, enjoying a gossip with Madame Cholet.

SHANSI . . .

. . . came from China on a Womble exchange visit when she was very young in order to learn English in the Womblegarten. She enjoyed herself so much that she stayed, but her English still is not perfect. Shansi is very artistic and clever with her paws. She paints delicately and can recycle rubbish into lovely artwork. Shansi is younger than Bungo and even shyer than Wellington.

COUSIN YELLOWSTONE . . .

. . . lives in the Yellowstone Park burrow in the USA. His full name is Yellowstone Boston Womble and he's very well dressed, kind-hearted and quite old, with silky grey fur. He left the Wimbledon burrow when he was young and sailed all over the world until he settled in the USA.

COUSIN BOTANY . . .

. . . sailed (accidentally) from Sydney in Australia to England many years ago. No one knows exactly how old he is but his fur is nearly as white as Great Uncle Bulgaria's. He always wears an old battered panama hat and a long apron made of sacking. Cousin Botany is very absent-minded and is happiest on his own, tending to his plants.