Story Pages
The Great Food Hunt
The leaves had started to turn a golden russet in the last two weeks. The wind was colder, and the brambles started to rustle. These things told everyone that Autumn had begun.
Harry, the hoglet's father, stood at the mouth of the burrow, spectacles perched on his nose, and clapped his paws.
“Winter will be here before we know it,” he said. “So, today we start to gather enough food to last us until the spring comes.”
Hanna, the hoglet’s mother, gave a gentle warning.
“Stay close, my hoglets. The woods are kind, but they are big, and you must not stray too far.”
Heidi and Harriet were handed berry baskets.
Hank and Henry, the two who never could keep still, were given the task of finding acorns under the fallen leaves and rolling the fattest ones into a sack.
Hugo and Holly would collect beech nuts.
Hazel and Harvey were told to gather the last of the late blackberries and to stay where they could hear Father’s voice.
For a while everything went just as planned. Baskets grew heavy. Acorns bumped and rattled. The children sang as they worked. Even Henry, who usually darted off after anything and everything, stayed near and soon had one sack filled with big fat acorns.
Then the sky changed.
One moment it was bright. The next, grey clouds rolled over the treetops. The first heavy drops of rain landed on Harry’s spectacles
.“Home, everyone!” he called. “Quickly now!”
They counted as they hurried. One, two, three, four, five, six… Hank… Henry… they were gone.
Hanna’s ears went very still.
“They were by the bramble patch only a moment ago.”
Thunder, gruff and grumbling, came ever closer. The rain fell harder, turning the path into a dark, mushy mud.
“We stay together,” Harry said firmly. “No one searches alone.”
So they made a plan, the way Hoggs always did.
Harvey, who had the loudest voice, cupped his paws and called their names into the wet woods. Heidi and Harriet held the lantern Hanna had brought “just in case.”
Harvey and Henrietta walked on either side of the grown-ups so no one would slip.
Holly, who noticed everything, kept her eyes on the ground for tiny footprints.
They found Hank's scarf; it was caught on a thorn. Farther on, Henry’s cap lay in the leaves.
The trail led down toward the old stream, now running fast and brown
.“Henry! Hank!” Hanna called, her voice steady even though her heart was not. A small, soggy sound answered from beneath a fallen oak.
There they were: Hank shivering under the biggest toadstools he could find, and Henry sitting beside him, clutching each other, both of them wet through and trying very hard not to look frightened.
“We only wanted three more acorns,” Henry spluttered. “Then the rain came so fast.”
Hank nodded. “We thought we knew the way back.”
Harry lifted them both at once, one in each arm, and held them close until they stopped shaking. Hanna wrapped her shawl around the pair of them.
The other children crowded in, dripping and relieved.
“You gave us a proper scare,” Harry said, but his voice was kind. “Mother was right. The woods are bigger than they look when the rain starts.”
They walked home slowly, all ten of them in a tight little cluster. Hank still called out now and then, just to hear the others answer. Holly held Hazel’s paw. Heidi shared the last dry corner of her scarf with Hugo.
By the time they reached the burrow, the rain had eased to a soft drizzle. Hanna lit the stove. Harry hung eight tiny coats and two larger ones on the pegs. Soon the kitchen smelled of warm blackberry jam and toasted acorns.
The children sat in a row on the settle, wrapped in blankets, sipping sweet tea. Outside, the wind still muttered, but inside everything was golden and safe.
“Next time,” Henry said quietly, “I’ll stay where I can hear you.”
Harry polished his spectacles and looked around at all of them: Hanna, the eight damp hoglets, and the full baskets they had managed to bring home after all.
“Winter can come whenever it likes,” he said. “We have enough. And we have each other.”
Hanna smiled and poured more tea.
And that night, when the rain tapped on the roof and the first real chill of autumn slipped under the door, every Hogg was exactly where they belonged: together, warm, and home.
The End
