This is an extract from Cats (or Ginger Nuts) Go Camping story; included as a tantaliser for future offerings and which neatly explains the mention of Alexsandr the Meerkat in this Cat Bields tale.


The Mustelid gang were in awe of this show of strength and crept out from between the surrounding trees. As well as large numbers of Weasels and stout Stoats, there were smaller numbers of Ferrets and Badgers, a very rare Pine Marten, an Otter and a handsomely dressed Meerkat, whom rumour had it, had recently escaped from a nearby wildlife park. This last fellow, who was originally from the zoo in Dresden before his transfer to the wildlife park, was wearing a military style jacket in tasteful shades of purple.

A few of the Mustelids were armed with stout cudgels cut from twigs and branches found along the way and more of them were bearing placards upon which were written short messages.

"Macaye, I'm hoping we can avoid fighting and scuffling," said Wild Bill to his troops, "but I wonder what's troubling them? I'll need to speak to their leader."

"Macow, perhaps it's territory," suggested Tigtoes.

"Brrrrp, or food sources?" suggested Bullpuss.

"Mow mow, or even the plans to eradicate tuberculosis from the badgers," wondered Squimps, who always watched the wildlife programmes with his Young Mistress.


It turned out to be the Meerkat who acted as spokesweasel and he strolled across the clearing to meet Wild Bill roughly half way between the two groups.

"Macaye, see you Jimmy!" began Wild Bill, "that's a fine wee tartan jacket yer wearin'!"

"Guten abend, mein Meitze Katzen," replied the Meerkat, "ve hav heard about you, Vild Villem, unt by ze vay, my name is Ahleksahnder unt not Jimmy, as you seem to zink."

"Macochaye, ma' reputation spreads before me," replied Wild Bill, bowing and flourishing his hat, "but what is worrying you good Mustelids?"

"Ve are concerned about very many vildlife issues, zese funny tall zings viz ze vhirling vings, ze persecution of ze black unt vite striped gentlemen, unt especially ze lack of support for ze local vildlife. Meine friends here vish to sign a treaty viz you seeking agreement in supporting us."

"Macaye, seems guid to me," replied Wild Bill, affably, "just let me check the details with ma Border Retrievers gang," and he returned to explain to the dogs, squirrels and Ginger Nuts.

Everyone readily agreed and the two groups stepped forward to meet. One of the badgers was in charge of the treaty, which was a large sheet of thick paper surprisingly headed in English with the words 'SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WILDLIFE'. The Pine Marten explained that she had found it near the special log cabin deep in the forests which served food to humans and to which she was drawn by the supplies of her favourite snacks that were regularly put out on the edge of the forest. The badger showed all the paw prints of the animals who had already signed the treaty and Bullpuss was surprised to see that foxes were represented. Each row referred to a species.

As the first cat to sign, Wild Bill was encouraged to start off a new row. The Bullpuss, who followed him, cheekily suggested that since Wild Bill was a Scottish Wild Cat, perhaps the Ginger Nuts should start a new row as domestic Sassencats. Wild Bill was very amused and since the sheet was large, the badger was happy to agree.

The dogs wuffed happily when it was their turn to begin a new row, and the red squirrels, who found that their relatives had signed previously, added their delicate paw prints further along their row. The Mustelids were very grateful for the co-operation of the domestic animals, and having carefully rolled up the treaty, they handed out small stickers. Then they shook paws all round in gratitude, turned and quickly disappeared among the trees. Wild Bill's gang breathed a sigh of relief and having regained the relative safety of the tree house, flopped down exhausted in comfortable spots.

The Ginger Nuts now felt completely at ease with the Border Retrievers and lots of tales were exchanged about earlier adventures. In this fashion the afternoon drew to a close. Suddenly there was a distant sound of a gong. The dogs pricked up their ears and before Wild Bill could stop them, wuffed "Gong ... Tea-time ... Din-dins."

"Macooops, time tae go!" said Wild Bill with a wry smile and before the astonished Ginger Nuts' eyes, he quickly undid the tartan neckerchiefs from around the dogs' necks, removed all his own finery, flicking his hat and sporran away into a corner and having transformed himself back into a fine specimen of a well looked after domestic pussy-cat, quickly hugged each of his new friends and said he hoped to meet up again in the near future.

His last words drifted up to them as he scampered off after the dogs, "guid-bye ma fine wee Ginger Nuts, dinna forget to close the door!"

The Ginger Nuts were very amused to see their suspicions verified and made preparations for the return journey. The early evening light was still bright and being good natural trackers, made no false turns on the way home. The Mopprag was very pleased to see them and could hardly believe her ears as the adventures were related to her. The family had returned earlier from their own pleasant day and had been a little worried to find just the Mopprag in the camp site. They were relieved when the wanderers appeared but were intrigued by how dishevelled they looked, with small pieces of bracken and heather caught in their fur. Old Mistress gave them each a quick brushing, whilst Old Master prepared cat teas.

"What on earth is this?" exclaimed Old Mistress, as she indicated a small sticker that each cat was wearing, just underneath their chins and between their front legs. The sticker said SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WILDLIFE. Young Mistress picked Squimps up, which rather surprised him since he was half way through his tea. She hugged him tight and spotted a small scrap of tartan fabric that was caught underneath his collar. She showed it to her brother. She looked deeply into Squimps' eyes with a playful laugh flickering across her face, "where have you been my Squimpy? What have you been doing?" Squimps looked back at his Young Mistress and winked both his eyes, "if only we could talk!" he said.


If anyone would care to take a peek at Amazon, or whatever the rain-forest site calls itself, you may be able to find a full earlier version of this Camping story. When first planned it was so long that when I planned the illustrations there were over 150, which somewhat delayed publication. On my job list is a reminder to design, draw and colour the last thirty illustrations and get them correctly published.


All encouragement gratefully received!