THE POLITICS OF PARADISE POND

                           

                                                                   Chapter Five
                                                   The Charge of the Sticklebacks

Peter was not happy. He had slept only fitfully, unable somehow to find a comfortable position, and with such complex issues to deal with there was much on his mind. Little wonder he had been unable to settle.
 Despite his long talk with Clarence, and the promise of his help he could not see an easy solution. He hoped that he could persuade the warring newt leader to take a less totalitarian stance, for he still wished to be fair and remain neutral, even though the evidence against Giles was damming.
 "Not a chance." Frederick said when they met after breakfast
 At least he had solved the problem of food, for there had been no bad reaction from his foraging the day before; and he had discovered a number of other promising plants.  He realized that during his time in Paradise he would have to become a vegetarian, but he felt that he could live with that.  He shuddered at the thought of the alternative, not relishing for one minute Fredericks fare, and had politely refused his invitation to join him for meals.
 "You'll not get any change out of Giles." he continued
          Peter was downcast. "I'll just have to wait to see what Clarence comes up with," he said, nodding thoughtfully, "perhaps he might have an answer."
           "I wouldn't put too much faith in him If I were you;" Frederick said with a slight raise in his voice. "He's a bit of a lump, and he isn't quite as dynamic as he used to be.  Besides he spends most of his time asleep."
           Peter let the comment pass, merely noting the obvious lack of mutual respect between the two.
          "Who else can we see then?" Peter looked at Frederick  "who else is there who doesn't like what's going on?"
 Frederick sat in thought but said nothing.
          "Come on man." Peter said, raising his voice  "after all it is your battle, and Clarence doesn't think the sticklebacks will cooperate."
          "They should, because after us they will be the next lot that Giles will want to get rid of."
          At last a positive response.  "Right, let's go.  Can you get a party of you best men together?  If we go in strength we should be safe from their sharp teeth."
           Frederick was far from convinced but he could see that things were getting critical.  It was clear that something had to be done.  He could also see that if there were any more unopposed attacks by the newts his position as leader would be challenged.
          Soon they were off.  Frederick had managed to round up some of his friends, so it was a party of ten that set off to the wide and deep north water.
          As they swam Peter was apprehensive. He was quite aware that, not-withstanding his new found expertise in the water, he would be vulnerable if they were attacked.  His only advantage - if indeed it were one - was that he could visualize the pond from above.  So many times he had looked down on it from the higher level of the wood, from where he could see its entire length - somewhat over a mile - its two islands about half a mile apart and close to the north bank. Nearer the wood, at the South West corner the river rushed in, only to be brought to heel as it met the large body of water. The north bank, shallow with extensive reed beds was split by the craggy nose of a rocky escarpment. This pointed to, and seemed to connect underwater, to its smaller cousin on the south bank. Indeed, these noses were all that was left of a ridge which had been blasted away at the end of the eighteenth century, when the old dam was enlarged to increase its volume of water. More power had been needed for a new mill, and by removing the ridge a little valley was flooded, and the original pond was increased many fold. The pond had become, in stages,  a lake, yet it had continued through all the years to be known as Paradise Pond.
          Because of his knowledge of the plan of the lake Peter knew that the river entered the lake at a point at the far end of the lake near the south west corner. This was beyond stickleback territory which was their destination, and they knew that when they had passed the jut of the south 'nose' they left the comparative safety of their end of the lake.
          Eventually they started to ‘sense’ the presence of fresh water, so they knew that they were nearing stickleback country.  This was the stickleback’s  stronghold with fast clean water, a rocky bed with lots of crevices and other places to hide. Once they neared this place the little party of frogs knew that soon they would reach the point of no return.  With rather less plant life than elsewhere there were few places to hide their larger bodies. The sticklebacks on the other hand could easily defend themselves from attackers, and in a moment they could launch their own attacks.
          Beyond stickleback-land, across the current of the incoming river, a long grassy finger of land diverted the fast water away from northern half of the pond, the part favoured by the newts.  This was quite an extensive part of the lake but was shielded from the incoming water by that spit of land. Therefore that end of the lake was still and quite shallow, getting gradually more so the closer it was to the north bank. Once there on the far bank; opposite and some half a mile across the water, from the sticklebacks, was newt territory. It was well protected by the small pendant shaped island. Lying at an angle from the bank, its broad side separated from the bank by little more than a bulrush wet-land, while its sharp end pointed back to the central and deepest part of the lake.  Continuing past Newt Island the north bank curved slowly until it reached the rocky north point. The same prominent nose which faced its cousin on the opposite bank which Peter and his brother had viewed earlier from the other end of the lake. This marked the narrowest part of the lake and separated the 'new' larger body of water from the original pond where the  smaller island is situated providing some protection for  the frogs main colony.

         So the two main protagonists of the great pond war were both on the north side of the pond, but separated by the considerable grass topped rocky prominence of the north nose. 
          The south side of the lake was generally the deeper side except at the south east corner known as the swamp.  This was where the water finally left the confines of its once artificial but long since naturalized boundaries, to escape to freedom over the dam wall and under the footbridge. Here it cascaded in a ballet of spray and droplets to the stream below. It was a place not favoured by any of the larger inhabitants of the lake, but swarming with the minutia of pond life. It was to from here that all the waters from the pond eventually flowed, carrying with it its flotsam and jetsam to be deposited, layer upon layer; year upon year.  Two hundred or more years of rotting and decay, of storm and flood, had gradually caused this part of the pond to become shallow of water but deep of muck and mire, a slow moving; a more than slightly smelly, muddy swamp.
          So it was from behind their island and skirting the swamp that the little band of frogs had set forth, keeping as close to the south bank as possible, to keep the maximum distance between themselves and the newts.  At first there was plenty of cover in the form of bottom plants and stones, lush and close, as well as a forest of taller plants that pushed their heads out of the water. If necessary they would be able to leave the water where they could at least out jump their enemies.  At first there progress was unhindered, but this was soon to change.  The critical moment came after they has passed the south point, smaller than its north bank cousin, and grass topped.

          Once beyond the point they left the protection of their end of the lake, as slowly they swam into deepening water.  After a while they could feel the current from the incoming river as it swept the far end of the west bank before losing its force; and they noticed a change in the terrain. The plant life was less dense, and with open water between plant tops and the surface, there were fewer places to hide.  They were now approaching dangerous enemy waters, for not only were they getting closer to stickleback country, they were also in the newts half of the lake.  They were all aware of their situation, and though they knew that the newt settlement was on the opposite bank,  they also knew that a scouting party might easily come upon them.  Extra vigilance was now called for as they moved cautiously forward.
          Suddenly, out of the blue they came; hundreds of them, weaving and swirling, ducking and diving, in and out, scattering the frogs and their leader in seconds.
          "Keep together." Peter shouted, but it was a forlorn hope.  They were untrained and had no sense of discipline, unlike the attacking stickleback horde who were used to this kind of team work; used to working as a pack.  In less than a minute Peter and Frederick's band of unwilling warriors were routed and in retreat.
          They retreated all the way back to south point, but after waiting for five minutes it was clear that they were now reduced to eight souls.
          "I’m sorry Frederick,"  Peter said, "you have lost two brave members of your team.  I can't ask you to try again."
          "What are you going to do?"
          "I'll have to go on my own."
          "Oh don't be foolish! What good will that do?  You've seen for yourself what will happen.  Ten seconds; that's all I'd give you."        
          "Perhaps they thought we were a raiding party,"  Peter said, "after all, they were only defending their territory ... and they didn't follow when we retreated did they?"  He paused to clear his mind. "I'll have to try again, and if you can't, or won't, come with me, then I must go on my own."
          He didn't wait for an answer, but launched himself into the undergrowth, his deft movements taking him in and out of the waving greenery.  After a while he stopped and pulled out a long stalk, at the top of which was a lush growth of pale green foliage.
          "What are you going to do with that?" asked Frederick.
          "I shall wave it at them." Peter replied,

 as he busied himself removing some of the strands so as to get a better grip.
          "What good will that do?" Frederick asked, not understanding.
          "It will tell them that I come in peace, and wish them no harm.  Wish me luck." And with that he moved forward, not trying to hide, but swimming well clear of any possible cover.  He wanted to be seen.
          He held his flag of peace in front of him, but for the first time in the watery wonderland he was aware that his swimming skills were not all that they might be, and try as he may he could not wave his flag in front of him and swim with dignity at the same time. He found himself turning over or twisting sideways, and once his flag went between his legs and he nearly lost it trying to get it back. This was a big disappointment to Peter, for he felt sure that the sticklebacks would understand his intention.  But it was no good; he just couldn't manage it - he would have to let it go.
          No sooner had he made that decision than he felt it being taken from his grasp.  Peter spun round to find Frederick holding his flag aloft, having no difficulty at all keeping it there as he moved forward.
          "What are you waiting for?" he called  "haven't got all day you know."
          "You're a hero."  Peter called out to his friend.
          "More likely a ruddy fool if you ask me."