Oscar the Otter Gets Stuck: A Creekside Tale About Slowing Down

the belly of a young river otter named oscar was wedged tight between two ancient willow roots three feet above the roaring current of alder creek his hind paws pedaled furiously against thin air spraying damp moss into the wind you see in episode 35 bertram the badger insisted on pacing the exact same trail until a detour led him to wild garlic but oscar had the opposite trouble bertram would not budge whereas oscar refused to ever slow down to oscar life along the creek was not a river at all it was a race course every single pebble every bend in the reed beds every patch of slick clay was just another stopwatch waiting to be beaten when

the morning sun cracked over the ridge painting the water amber and gray the other young otters stretched their whiskers floated on their backs and cracked river clams against smooth stones on their bellies not oscar oscar woke up twitching he timed how fast he could surface from the deep pool by the bend he counted strokes across the shallows seven seconds flat he would squeak water sluicing off his sleek chestnut coat as he scrambled onto the shingle beat that barnaby go on try barnaby was that sagged pleasantly when he chewed barnaby didn't want to beat seven seconds barnaby wanted to float in the warm backwater crack his clam and watch dragonflies sew turquoise threads through the bulrushes the water is nice today oscar barnaby would murmur barely lifting an eyelid cool on the ribs nice is for turtles oscar would scoff already shaking the

droplets from his tail speed is what counts speed is history and the crown jewel of the whole river valley was the mudslide of dead man's ridge now calling it dead man's ridge was a bit dramatic the water voles named it that because an owl once dropped a dead birch twig there but the slide itself was genuinely magnificent it began 60 feet up a steep loamy bluff carving through red clay and wet silt curving twice around the knuckles of old alder trees before spitting the slider out into a deep bubbling plunge pool with a glorious booming splash it was by unanimous river consensus the finest piece of natural engineering within 20 miles on a warm tuesday

afternoon barnaby along with two young river sisters named pip and clover climbed to the crest of the ridge they weren't in a hurry they hauled up handfuls of wet moss to pat down the ruts they poured river water down the chute laughing as the red mud turned to glassy shimmering grease they were preparing a group slide a belly to tail train where four otters link up lock their front paws around the hips of the one ahead and glide down together in an unstoppable rumble of squeals and spray come on oscar pip called out her dark eyes sparkling with mud flex take the anchor spot if we lean together on the second turn we can send a wave all the way to the beaver dam oscar trotted to the lip of the bluff his chest puffed out like a little brown bellows he looked at the three of

them sitting in a tidy cheerful line grinning tails tucked in a train oscar wrinkled his whiskers a train is slow you've got barnaby's belly dragging like an old log you've got wind resistance you'll take twelve seconds to hit the bottom twelve seconds of laughing our tails off barnaby pointed out leaning back into pip's pause i can do it in four oscar declared pip blinked four nobody does the ridge in four the second turn throws you into the ferns if you don't bank hard watch me oscar said he didn't wait for an invitation oscar pushed past them claws digging into the slick loam he didn't want to be linked in a chain if you are linked

you share the time you share the glory nobody cheers for the third link in a mud train they cheer for the flash the streak the missile oscar lined up his whiskers with a steep fall line he didn't take the gentle banked curve that the colony had worn smooth over three generations no oscar spotted a shortcut a direct drop it shaved off the second turn entirely cutting straight down the face of the bluff there were a few willow snags sticking out of the mud halfway down but oscar was certain that at peak velocity an otter of his caliber could simply skip across them like a flat stone over a pond hang on oscar clover shouted her

front paws waving that line isn't cleared nobody slides the left gut too late oscar barked he tucked his chin tight against his throat he pinned his front paws flat against his ribs he gave one massive explosive thrust with his hind webbed feet and launched himself down the slick red earth for the first two seconds it was pure intoxicating triumph the wind shrieked through his ears flattening his small rounded whiskers against his cheeks the hillside blurred into streaks of rust and green he wasn't just sliding he was falling with style he was flying he could hear the gasp from the ridge above and he tasted the sweet iron of the mud spray he was easily under

four seconds he was going to hit that pool with the force of a falling meteor then came the willow it wasn't a branch you could skip over it was an ancient knobby knee of willow root thick as a badger's arm curving out of the dirt and looping right back into the earth forming a tight wooden hoop oscar saw it his brain registered the trap he tried to drop a claw to break but on greased red clay at 30 miles an hour claws are just decoration oscar's sleek head passed cleanly through the loop his shoulders slid through his rib cage however did not the root caught him right around the middle squeezing the breath out of

him with a soft hollow oof the momentum snapped his back legs upward swinging his tail toward the sky like a furry pendulum before gravity left him suspended three feet above the slope pinned like an apple in a cider press the silence that followed was immense the creek chuckled below entirely unimpressed high above three small faces peered over the edge of the ridge oscar barnaby's voice floated down rich with cautious concern did you break the record oscar tried to draw a breath to yell something dignified but the willow root was pressing firmly on his diaphragm all that came out was a high thin wheeze

he looks stuck pip observed from the ridge he looks like an oversized sausage in a pantry clover added softly oscar squirmed he wriggled his hind quarters he tried to walk his back toes against the slippery clay of the embankment but his claws just scraped useless ribbons into the mud he tried pushing backward with his front paws but there was nothing beneath them except empty air and a drop onto sharp river stones he was wedged properly thoroughly wedged from the top of the ridge came the sound of three voices counting in unison one two three a roar of churning mud tore down the main track barnaby pip and clover came shooting around the first curve locked

together like a sleek glistening bobsled they leaned in perfect harmony around the big bend their combined weight carrying them through the washboard ruts with a deep rhythmic rumbling sound they were shouting squealing their tails thrashing the air completely lost in the sheer momentum of doing something slightly terrifying together they swept past oscar's dangling form 20 feet to his right a blur of red mud and flying droplets and hit the plunge pool together with a hollow thunderous kerblam a towering wall of white water erupted into the afternoon sun catching the light and shattering into a 100 tiny rainbows oscar watched from his perch upside down mud slowly drying on his nose from the pool below came

the spluttering breathless laughter of his friends barnaby surfaced first blowing a spout of creek water into the air like a tiny walrus laughing so hard his whiskers shook pip hauled herself onto a flat rock panting and grinning slapping clover's paw in celebration did you feel that turn clover cheered i thought we were going into the ferns for sure best run of the summer barnaby sighed rolling onto his back floating in lazy circles while the foam drifted around his ears oscar hung in the willow root his time down the hill had been roughly two point one seconds the fastest slide in the recorded history of alder creek and he was suspended in the air cold alone

with a stiff breeze chilling his wet underbelly while the world moved on below him hey oscar managed to call down his voice tiny and tight down there a little help barnaby turned his head in the water he blinked once twice then paddled toward the bank pip and clover scrambled up after him shaking their wet fur until the ferns rattled it took them ten minutes of hard scrambling through the brambles to reach the willow snag they didn't laugh which somehow made it sting a little more barnaby simply sat down on his haunches tilted his head and examined the situation with the quiet seriousness of a master builder inspecting a cracked chimney well barnaby said gently