It was the month of January. Outside the window, beautiful snowflakes danced as if alive, whilst the bright sun shone in the sky. The day was so marvellous that even the bitter, nose-nipping frost couldn't spoil it.
Little Charlie put on his favourite grey hat, mittens and warm scarf—all grey too. And the little boy looked just like a grey fluffy kitten.
Charlie opened the door, stepped onto the threshold, and exclaimed:
How beautiful! I've only seen this in pictures in the book that Grandad reads to me in the evenings. Can it really be this lovely outside? I bet magical things happen on such wonderful days.
Charlie rushed off running through the snow, which crunched so melodiously beneath his feet. The boy decided to go into the forest for a walk—there, the trees would surely be dressed in white coats, and the snowdrifts would be even taller than Charlie himself.
The boy walked through the forest and suddenly heard someone squeaking in a thin, delicate voice.
I wonder who that could be?
The boy thought.
Slowing his pace, Charlie peered ahead and saw a little ginger mouse. She was lying on her back, not moving. Charlie rushed over to her in bewilderment:
Mouse, mousey, are you alive?
The mouse didn't react.
The poor thing must have frozen. And suddenly the little ginger mouse opened one eye and immediately jumped up.
Blimey!
She squeaked.
This is amazing! Can animals really talk?
And then Charlie remembered how Grandad had told him interesting stories where different magical things happened during the winter months. This must be that magical moment.
So you're not a cat?
Asked the squeaky mouse.
No, what made you think that?
The boy was surprised.
Well, I was running along quietly, and suddenly I turned my head, and there you were on the horizon, all grey, fluffy and round. I thought you were a cat and decided to pretend I'd frozen in this cold.
But why?
The boy continued to be surprised.
So that you wouldn't eat me.
Charlie and the mouse laughed loudly. And then the mouse asked:
Would you like to visit me at home?
I'd love to. I've never been to visit real animals that can talk before. But how will I find your home?
How about this—I'll run home slowly and my paw prints will be left in the snow. You can follow them to my house.
And so they agreed. The mouse scampered along the path, and Charlie followed her tracks.
The boy walked along the path, not turning anywhere. Suddenly a snowball appeared in his way, and right in front of Charlie's nose, the ball turned into a wild boar.
Oi! Who's blocking my path as I roll along?
Goodness me! You can talk too? Is this really possible?
Charlie said, falling on his bottom in astonishment.
Of course, we animals talk too, and we understand you humans perfectly well.
The boar replied.
I never imagined you could understand us!
The boy said.
You know what? Come and visit me. I'll feed you and you can warm up before your journey home.
The boar called out with a smile.
The new friends agreed in the same way as with the mouse. The boar would leave tracks, and Charlie would follow them to his little house.
The boy walked along the path, humming a tune.
Before he knew it, the ginger mouse suddenly jumped out in front of him and shouted:
Here's my home! And these are my friends!
Next to the mouse, other ginger mice were stamping their feet.
Now we'll feed you the most delicious delicacy.
The mouse held out a small clump of hay to Charlie.
Charlie thought that if the mice could talk, then the hay must be magical—edible for humans. The boy tried the clump and was delighted.
It turned out that this haystack had been prepared by the boy and his grandfather last summer for their horses, which lived in a stable near the house. Grandad had been breeding stallions and snow-white horses for a long time, and they stored the mown hay for their animals here, in the forest.
Whilst Charlie was thinking and rejoicing, the wild boar crept up behind him unnoticed.
Aha, you're here already! Well, that's good! Now I'll treat you to something tasty.
The tusked creature held out the same clump of hay to the boy.
Charlie couldn't believe his eyes. Turning round, he saw that the mice had vanished without a trace.
Do you live here with the mice?
The boy asked the boar.
What mice? I live here all alone.
The boar replied.
This haystack must be enormous if so many little creatures have settled in it.
Charlie thought.
At that moment, a loud creak sounded nearby, and Charlie's grandfather appeared from behind the haystack, having come to the forest on a sledge for hay.
Before Charlie could turn round, none of the animals remained—they'd all scattered in different directions.
Charlie told Grandad what had happened to him. Grandad wasn't surprised at all—he'd lived longer and seen many wonders in his life.
Well then, Charlie. Let's leave a small haystack for these forest animals. Of course, we prepared all this for our horses, but forest animals also need somewhere to winter and somewhere to live. We'll be doing a good deed!
And so they decided. And when Charlie and Grandad left, the boar and the mice returned home. They had a house for the winter, and they had food too.
