Tales of the Forest, the Mountain and the Garden: One Unicorn, Two Dragons, Three Little Girls, Four Goldfish and Other Numbered Stories

By Charles P. Helmsville

Tales is a storybook of allegories where animals and humans confront and overcome hard decisions. The UNICORN is feared by other animals until a forest fire gives him the opportunity to show that he is not only one of them, but also their saviour. In NINE WILD PIGLETS, the runt of the litter, through cleverness and cunning, overcomes all odds and becomes the leader of all his siblings. In ONE HUNDRED SQUIRRELS, three armies, Red, Gray and Black, are set to fight to the death for a cottage-sized section of the Forest until four yellow squirrels convince them of the futility of war. In the last story, ONE MILLION BEETLES, all the animals of the Forest and their Hunters meet on the night of The Moon of Blood and, through the intervention of the light of these million fireflies, form an understanding for everlasting peace between them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Sep 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781528962452

Charles P. Helmsville

Charles P. Helmsville was a practising barrister for almost 40 years, before graduating in life to become an introspectionist and writer. His interest in philosophy, current world affairs, his three Canadian granddaughters and his American grandson, continues unabated. His travels have taken him to six continents. Born in rural England, then having lived in Perth and Melbourne, Australia for almost five years, Charles settled in Toronto, Canada with his Canadian wife. They have two married sons, one practising law in Toronto, the other in San Francisco. He holds a Bachelor of Laws degree from the University of London, and a Doctor of Jurisprudence degree from Osgoode Hall Law School of York University, Toronto.

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Remembered

About the Author

Charles P. Helmsville was born and raised in rural England. Upon leaving school, he became a solicitor’s clerk. In his early 20s, he moved to Perth, then Melbourne, working in the legal profession and travelling throughout Australia, before moving permanently to Toronto, Canada, where he practised law as a barrister for 38 years, rounding a career in law spanning over 50. He has travelled extensively, covering six continents, and is married with two lawyer sons.

His passions in life are current world affairs, peaceful walks in ravines, his lovely granddaughters and grandson, and writing.

About the Book

Tales is a storybook of allegories where animals and humans confront and overcome hard decisions. The UNICORN is feared by other animals until a forest fire gives him the opportunity to show that he is not only one of them, but also their saviour. In NINE WILD PIGLETS, the runt of the litter, through cleverness and cunning, overcomes all odds and becomes the leader of all his siblings. In ONE HUNDRED SQUIRRELS, three armies, Red, Gray and Black, are set to fight to the death for a cottage-sized section of the Forest until four yellow squirrels convince them of the futility of war. In the last story, ONE MILLION BEETLES, all the animals of the Forest and their Hunters meet on the night of The Moon of Blood and, through the intervention of the light of these million fireflies, form an understanding for everlasting peace between them.

Dedication

To my three granddaughters, Isabel, Olivia, Emma; and my grandson, Charles, each of whom inspired me to write

these stories.

Copyright Information ©

Charles P. Helmsville (2019)

The right of Charles P. Helmsville to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528962452 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to my long-suffering wife who spent a great deal of time on her own to watch many more television series than I, while patiently waiting for me to finish this and another book.

I owe an enormous debt to my former law partner, organizer, proofreader, suggester supreme and true friend, Gaynor Roger, who spent countless hours, free of attached strings, to format, organise, check, recheck and check again. Without her suggestions and assistance, there would have been no book.

A Unicorn

There was a Unicorn. He lived in an enchanted forest near the netherworld, far away from people like you and me. He loved the quiet there, especially when the afternoon sun rose over the tallest tree tops and flooded into his clearing, where he basked in its warm beams. Nearby, in a canopied dell were the pristine waters of a cool stream. Its fountain sprang from the very top of a mountain. Everything he could hope for was around him: forest, mountain and valley; sun and water; peace and tranquillity; and bliss. Except, that is, for just one thing – the Unicorn had no friends. No friends at all.

He never saw the other animals in the forest, unless it were a quick glance now and then. They kept their distance. Yet they were always attracted by his beauty and elegance. They couldn’t resist peeping out of their holes, or through the long grass, or from behind trees, to catch a secret look at him as he passed by. Often, when he walked along a trail by a stream, he heard a plop in the water and saw ripples heading to the nearside bank. Yet he never saw the creature who made it. It would almost certainly be a beaver, though perhaps an otter or a rat, diving down under the water quickly so as not to be seen. He didn’t know, even now, the shape of any of these animals. Rushing out of his sight, they were always too quick for him to study them.

Sometimes, when the Unicorn was about to sleep, the bravest of them shuffled into his clearing and crept closer (but not too close) just to look at him in wonder. They loved to see his tall, sharp horn, and his flowing white mane, and to listen to his breathing as he nodded off to sleep in the hot summer days. Often he made magical noises, like gentle flutes piping through the branches of twisted trees. Occasionally, as he lay there quiet and still, it was as if he had just floated down from cloud-matter that had formed him.

Other animals never came close because they were frightened. After all, what other creature of the forest was pure white and had a horn on its forehead? What other was so strikingly different? No, they must keep away from him for their own safety. They did, and because of it the Unicorn was desperately lonely.

He had come to the forest in a mid-spring, one hundred and fifty years ago. Even then, when they looked up into the sky to see him flying into the clearing at the very heart of the forest, all the animals ran away. Some of them stopped to look back quickly, but then turned and ran all the faster. None of them had ever seen a unicorn before. Then, for generations, they told their families that a White Phantom had come from out of the sky and to be sure to keep away from him, for fear of bad magic. After all, didn’t this creature have giant wings on his back? No other big creature had wings, except the birds, but theirs were small. And didn’t the air shudder when he flew up into the sky? As they always said to their children, How can any animal as big as this fly, if not by some dark, magical power?

Yet, one evening in the present, in early winter, something happened that changed everything. A moon shone from the cloudless sky. Stars twinkled through the trees. It was the kind of night loved by the forest creatures. The harsh winter snows hadn’t yet come and every animal went about its business as though it were still daylight. Moonbeams lit their trails: moon rays were their torches. The daytime animals romped around in a longer day. The night-time creatures joined them in the twilight. Together, they all dug for roots or searched for the last dried berries or nuts on the bushes and trees. All were out this moonlit night.

The forest teemed with hurried movements: soldier ants marched through the long grass and over the trunks of fallen trees; bats swarmed out of caves; raccoons lumbered along stream banks. Rabbits hopped about. Deer were out for the last grazing of their day. Foxes lurked in the undergrowth to watch everything that was going on. The forest itself was alive, under the full, gigantic and beautiful orange-red moon.

Not far away from the bustle, the Unicorn was already settling down to rest in his clearing, amid the smooth and still warm rocks. It was his time to sleep, and on this most beautiful of nights, he was wont to be out in the open. There, the moonbeams shone on his sleek and perfect body and he felt a unity with the vastness above: its glowing moon and the blinking stars. He stood on three of his legs, lifting a front leg gently off the ground as unicorns do and tiredness overcame him. He drifted from a calm, tranquil slumber into a deep sleep.

Even as he was passing into this night’s peace, there were rumbles from somewhere distant. Flashes lit up the sky outside the forest. But neither the Unicorn nor any of the other animals saw the lights or thought of danger. They were all within the cloak of the forest’s trees, which muffled the faraway sounds. They saw only the light and the clear sky above them; light that for the while was radiant, and pure. For the moment, everything was quiet.

The Unicorn slept on. Though peace reigned where he slept, a great wind rose over distant hills. It whipped up the faraway weather of an unusually hot day, creating threatening clouds. Neither the Unicorn, asleep now, nor the other animals of the forest, heard the thunder that rapidly approached, even when the winds around the forest grew stronger. Within an hour, the storm moved overhead.

No animal understood what was happening until it was too late. The clouds raced in from nowhere, emptying their rain and firing their hailstones onto anything still moving below. Rain drenched the forest creatures. Hailstones pummelled them, like hammers. Many couldn’t get back to their holes in time for shelter. None found protection in the trees which swayed back and forth. Branches high in the canopy caught the winds and bent as far as they could go; many then buckled and broke. Fierce lightning struck, starting fires despite the rain, and the wind whipped up high flames that spread about the forest. Soon, the whole place was aglow as the fallen rain sizzled into steam that drifted away.

It was the noisy crackling and sap-spitting of a burning Oak tree, recently struck by a thunderbolt, that stirred the Unicorn. He always slept well and soundly, with no enemies here. But now, he woke with a start and instantly was aware of the danger all around. There was panic and confusion never before seen in the forest. For once, fear of the White Phantom evaporated. In their terror of the storm and the burning trees falling all around them, other animals hardly noticed him. Most rushed about wildly. Ants cut off from their little anthills, were taken up and away on the rivulets created by the rain. Rabbits and others ran in circles, unable to go to ground, their warrens blocked. Wild pigs squealed with nowhere to hide. Many animals swayed in their walk, stunned and disorientated, lost in the dark and the periodic lightening. The forest grew humid, hotter, then hotter still, flames racing up each tree branch by branch.

The Unicorn placed his left front foot on the ground to paw and stomp. As he held high his white head and horn, his mane blew horizontal in the wind. In defiance, his eyes flashed in answer to the bolts that now so terrified his fellow creatures. He took in the acrid smell and squinted through swirling smoke. Lightening blinded, and thunderbolts crashed all around. Keen ears jolted brains to hear the screams of wild pigs. Rabbits struck the Unicorn’s legs, racing by and under him, their pleading eyes bloodshot: bright red in the continuous flashes. It seemed as though the panic would never end, but eventually it did. It took an hour. Then it was over.

The storm passed on as quickly as it had come, and though pale at first, the full light of the full moon reappeared. But it was eclipsed on and off by drifting smoke. Stars, too, were hard to distinguish in the obscure light. The aftermath of the storm lived on in the bursting banks of streams, broken trees, out of control wildfires, pandemonium. The torrential rain had passed but the damage was frightful and dire. The Unicorn looked around at the devastation. The keen after-wind drove stinging smoke into his eyes.

Suddenly, in his own fear, he reared on his hind legs. Then in the artificial light, he saw the uncontrolled