English

and the Crows By Kostya Reznik, Year 10

Not even halfway through the Winter, the food began to run out. Although a definite improvement from last year, the crows’ supposedly genius plan didn’t seem to be working out for the mice. They didn’t eat more than they had to and kept good track of the food supply, but there just wasn’t enough.

“We’ve gone through most of our food!” one mouse announced alarmedly.

“Well, what are we going to do?”

“Let’s go and ask the other animals for food; whatever they can spare. I believe the squirrels may have some.”

With no other options and almost no food, the mice set off to where the squirrels lived. Entering their territory, it was clear they were better off, with more food at that point than the mice had at Autumn’s end.

Realising their opportunity, one of the mice approached the squirrels.

“Sorry to trouble you, but we have run out of food,” the mouse pleaded. “Would you be able to spare any?”

“What you see is all we have. We are willing to give you some, but I doubt it will be enough to last all of you,” one squirrel explained apologetically.

At this, a wave of excitement and joy swept over the mice. It was more than they could have ever expected.

“If you run out again, the crows might have more. They are the ones who suggested this idea to us, after all.” “What you are offering is more than enough to last us a while,” the mice responded. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“We wish we could do more for you,” one squirrel told them.

“Hopefully one year, everybody will have more than enough food.”

Even what the squirrels considered a small amount of food was still a major boon for the mice. They scurried off to their home with their treasure, each mouse holding all it could carry. For the next few weeks, the mice were happy again; their troubles long gone and forgotten.

But once again, their bounties were short-lived. Their supply began to dwindle as they realised that the squirrel’s warning was correct. Of course, basic courtesy meant that bothering the squirrels for more food would be obnoxious and unwelcome.

Wanting to preserve their relationship with the kind group, the mice decided that their final hope lay with the crows. Arriving at their lair deep in the snowy woods, their eyes widened and the hairs on their backs stood straight up; they had never seen anything like this. Piles upon piles of the best food the forest had to offer. Berries, nuts, fruit, mushrooms – there was no end to it.

Filled with hope from their encounter with the squirrels, the mice approached one of the crows.

“Sorry to trouble you, but we have run out of food,” the mouse pleaded for the second time. “Would you be able to spare any?” “No,” the crow appeared annoyed, “we won’t be giving you anything.”

“But why? Do you not believe us? Surely the mountains of food you have are enough to last both you and us for the Winter.”

“You not having any food isn’t our fault. It’s yours. You should’ve worked harder and gathered more.”

More crows flocked over as he spoke, sneering and glaring at the mice as if they were a nuisance to be rid of.

“But we did! We took all that was left in the forest,” the mice pleaded. “Almost everything else was already gone by the time we got there.”

“We don’t owe you anything,” a crow with ruffled feathers declared in a gravelly tone. “If it weren’t for us and our plan, you would have already starved. Leave at once.”

The stark difference between the squirrels and the crows was shocking to the mice. Optimism turned to despair as the mice headed back to their homes, slouching and dragging their feet. What the crows told them did not seem fair, but they were helpless to change their fate. With little food and many weeks of Winter left, worry filled the homes of both the mice and squirrels.

Spring eventually came, with flowers pushing through the snow and trees beginning to grow back their leaves. An uncharacteristic silence shrouded the forest, only interrupted by the deafening caw of the crows.