Chapter One - Mole finds Toad in a poorly state
The weather was changing on the river bank. There was something ominous in the air that had not been there before. Black thunder-clouds hung menacingly over the fields. A few birds flitted pointlessly among the hedgerows singing a song, the notes of which they seemed scarcely able to remember. Even the ducks, who had as usual been quarrelling and quacking about supposed snubs and alleged insults, nestled into the reeds and chose to ignore all but the most outrageous attacks. Only the river moved on, black and sinuous, always changing yet always the same, creating a boundary for some animals, a highway for others, and with a suppressed energy and power that was only dangerous when ignored.
In this oppressive weather, Mole decided to go out. If he were to be honest, he was getting a bit restless, if not fed up, living with Rat. Yet even as he thought this, he felt guilty. For had not Ratty befriended Mole, taken him from his dull old house and introduced him to all his jolly friends? And what friends they were too; and what adventures they had had! Boating on the river, meeting Badger, caravanning with Toad and finally playing an heroic part in the rescue of Toad Hall from the Wildwooders.
And yet, and yet…. Mole found it hard to describe exactly how he was feeling but it was something to do with his very self. In fact, that was it. He felt that he was rarely able to be himself because he was always standing in Rat’s shadow. If they went boating, Rat would usually tell him that he was not doing it right, like not feathering his oars properly. When they moored, Rat would check the painter to see that Mole had secured it properly and invariably give it another turn around the post.
If they got lost, Rat always knew the way, just as he had done when he rescued Mole in a snowstorm in the Wild Wood. Or that time when, on a long walk, they chanced upon Mole’s old house and, not unnaturally, Mole was overcome with emotion. Not so the ever- capable Rat, who took over, got the field mice to buy food and drink and organised a splendid evening.
The trouble was that the Rat did seem to be more capable than he was. He could scull better, he knew more knots and bends (he could even do a square lashing) and he really did take care of Mole. But in spite of this friendship and kindness, Mole felt dissatisfied. He wished that Rat wasn’t quite so capable and that he would let Mole try out things in his own way, even if that meant getting it wrong. Of course, this had happened, like the first time he was in Rat’s boat and grabbed the oars—and inevitably tipped the boat over. Rat had rescued him with great good humour and yet Mole thought, ‘If I hear Rat tell that story at dinner ever again, I shall scream!’
Mole was thinking these thoughts as he put on his raincoat and sou’wester. He said to the Rat, ‘I think I’ll just pop over for a chat with Toad. We haven’t seen him for ages and the walk will do me good.’ The Rat, who was murmuring poetry things to himself and was trying to find a rhyme for ‘effervescent’, scarcely looked up but as Mole was going out of the door suddenly shouted, ‘Be careful, Moley. Think of what happened last time you went out on your own!’ He was of course referring to the time when Mole got lost in the Wild Wood and Rat had saved him. Mole was furious and called Rat several unflattering words
under his breath. Out loud he said, ‘Thank you Ratty. I’ll take care,’ adding sotto voce, ‘you stupid, squint-eyed rodent’, which Rat did not hear and which he was not meant to. But it made Mole feel better.
It was in this frame of mind that Mole walked over to Toad Hall, scarcely responding to the polite greetings of the rabbits he met on the way. He knew that he had gained their respect since arriving at the river bank and no one would demand any toll from him, as they once had done. Let them dare! And yet, did he only imagine that he heard one say in a rather horrid way, ‘That’s strange. You don’t often see Mole on his own’?