Nib and Mrs. Plank Go Down the River

Nib was the smallest mouse on the riverbank. He was so small that when he sneezed, it went tish, like a crumb falling off a plate.

He lived in a nest of dry grass at the very end of the beaver dam. He had never been any further than that.

Under his nest Nib kept a list. It was scratched on bark, and it said THINGS I WANT TO SEE. There was only one thing on it.

THE RAINBOW.

Far down the slow brown river there was a little waterfall. On sunny afternoons a rainbow sat in the spray, as if it lived there. Everyone on the river had seen it, except Nib.

One morning Nib heard a bump, and a splash, and a “Bother!” It was Mrs. Plank.

Mrs. Plank was a big, kind beaver who had built the whole dam herself. She knew every stick in it by name. Today she was patting her way along it, very slowly.

“Good morning, Old Knobbly,” she said to a stick. That was right.

“Good morning, Little Knobbly,” she said to a stone. That was wrong.

“Good morning, Wobbly Doris,” she said to a duck.

“Quack,” said the duck. Wobbly Doris never said quack. Wobbly Doris never said anything, because she was a stick.

“Mrs. Plank,” said Nib. “That’s a duck.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Plank. “I’ve dropped my spectacles down a gap in the dam. I can’t see a thing without them.”

Nib looked at the gap. It was far too small for a beaver’s paw. It was just the right size for a mouse.

Nib thought about his list.

“Mrs. Plank,” he said. “If I fetch your spectacles, will you take me down the river to see the rainbow?”

“That’s a fair deal,” said Mrs. Plank. “You fetch my spectacles. I carry you on my back, all the way down to the waterfall and all the way home again.”

They shook on it. Nib’s whole paw fitted round one of her claws.

Nib wriggled into the gap, head first. There were the spectacles, hanging on a twig.

They were round, with only one lens. They were too big to carry, so Nib put them on his head like a hat and wriggled out backwards. Pop!

“Here they are,” said Nib.

Mrs. Plank put them on. To see through the one lens, she had to wink. So she winked.

“Why, there you are, Nib,” she said. “And there’s Old Knobbly, and Little Knobbly, and Wobbly Doris.” She looked at the duck. “Sorry, Duck.” She looked at Nib. “Now climb on.”

* * *

Nib climbed on. Mrs. Plank’s back was brown and warm and a little bit damp, like a bath mat. Then she slid into the river. Plop!

Soon the water got bumpy.

“This is the jiggly bit,” said Mrs. Plank. “Hold on to my ears.”

Nib held on to her ears. The water went jiggle, jiggle, jiggle. Nib jiggled. His whiskers jiggled. Even his tail jiggled.

Next the river bent this way and that way.

“This is the wiggly bit,” said Mrs. Plank. “Hold on to my ears.”

Nib held on. Mrs. Plank wiggled left, and Nib swung left. She wiggled right, and Nib swung right, like a little flag. He laughed so hard his ears went pink.

Then the river got wide and lazy.

“This is the big slow bend,” said Mrs. Plank. “Hold on to my ears.”

“But it’s slow,” said Nib.

“It’s also big,” said Mrs. Plank.

The big slow bend took so long that Nib counted forty-three ducks.

At the end of it was the waterfall, small and white and splashy. Mrs. Plank swam to a flat rock at the side, where the water was calm. Nib hopped off.

He looked at the spray. He looked very hard.

There was no rainbow.

A big grey cloud had slid in front of the sun, and the spray was just spray.

Nib’s ears drooped. “It’s gone,” he said.

“It’s only waiting for the sun,” said Mrs. Plank. “So we’ll wait too.”

“But you kept your side of the deal,” said Nib. “You brought me here.”

“I said I would take you to see the rainbow,” said Mrs. Plank. “You haven’t seen it yet. A deal is a deal. I’m very good at waiting. I once waited all winter for the ice to melt.”

So they waited. Mrs. Plank told Nib the name of every stick in her dam, from Old Knobbly all the way to a brand new one called Gerald. The cloud moved even slower than the big slow bend.

Then the edge of the cloud turned gold. The sun came out and shone on the spray.

And there was the rainbow. Red and orange and yellow and green and blue and purple, sitting in the spray as if it lived there. It curved over the flat rock, right over Nib’s head.

“Oh,” said Nib. He looked and looked and looked.

Mrs. Plank winked through her one lens. “There,” she said. “Now you’ve seen it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Plank,” said Nib.

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Plank. “Without you I’d still be saying good morning to ducks.”

* * *

They went home as the moon came up. At the big slow bend, Mrs. Plank said, “Hold on to my ears.”

Nib didn’t answer. He was fast asleep on her back, and his paws were holding on to her ears all by themselves.

So Mrs. Plank swam very gently up the wiggly bit, so as not to wiggle him. She swam very gently up the jiggly bit, so as not to jiggle him.

At the dam she said softly, “Good evening, Old Knobbly. Good evening, Little Knobbly. Good evening, Wobbly Doris.”

She tucked Nib into his nest. Then she found his list. She winked through her one lens, and with one claw she drew a neat line through THE RAINBOW.

“Goodnight, Nib,” said Mrs. Plank.

The smallest mouse on the riverbank had seen the rainbow. Now he was asleep in his own nest, and the slow brown river went quietly by.