The Thorn Bear: Chapter II
Defenseless and fragile, the egg remains in the raided nest. Where are the parents? Shouldn’t they be looking after their young?
The best thing will be for Teddy to stay here in case the marten comes back to eat the last egg as well. He will not allow that. He only has to hold out until the parents return.
Teddy sits down beside the nest, places the stick within reach and studies the tiny thing. The shell is like white parchment and as soft as jelly. No, more like a grape. Soon, a beautiful songbird will hatch from it, trill him a little tune and fly south for the winter.
Night falls, and there is still no sign of Mama Bird or Papa Bird.
“They’re taking their time,” Teddy thinks, and begins to worry: if no one keeps the egg warm, the chick will freeze. The moon shines brightly in the clear summer night, and crickets chirp in chorus.
Teddy feels neither warmth nor cold, because he is a toy, but nights outdoors can be merciless and cold. Carefully, the bear picks up the little egg and pulls open the tear in his belly. Piling the remaining stuffing and some moss into a nest, he places the egg on top.
Satisfied, Teddy nods at the nesting place, which looks warm and cozy. Morning comes, but the bird parents do not sing him a song.
Nor the next day.
Or the day after that.
“Something must have happened to them,” the bear thinks when he hears a bush rustling behind him. At some distance, the marten prowls restlessly through the undergrowth, its black eyes fixed on the stick beside the cuddly toy.
“It isn’t safe here.” Keeping the marten in his button-eyed sight, Teddy adds, “Your parents will surely understand if I take you somewhere safe. After all, he wants to eat you.”
Leaving the nest and the sandbank behind, Teddy holds the gaping tear shut, because the egg threatens to slip out again and again. Tying several blades of grass together, he fastens them around his waist like a belt, but after only a few meters the fibers snap and the contents begin to peek dangerously through.
When Teddy reaches a crumbling chain-link fence, an idea comes to him! The wire is flexible and sturdy. He could wrap it around his belly, and the barbs would not pierce the fur. As soon as the little bird hatches, he will take it off again and the chick can come out into the open.
Bending the iron into a spiral, Teddy wraps it several times around his fluffy belly, always making sure that no barb points inward. And indeed, the wound stays closed, and even when he stretches and moves, the egg remains safe in its nest.
But what now?
What is he supposed to do?
He would dearly love to return to Tom and play with him, but he has to find the parents of the bird’s egg. Only where should he begin? They could be anywhere.
For now, onward.
Toward the sun!