The Ribbon Trail

Pip the fox and Fern the fox loved puzzles. They had a little tent made of blankets and sticks. A cardboard sign read: SNIFF-AND-THINK CLUB. Inside sat a basket, a magnifying glass, and a notebook covered in leaf stickers.

One breezy morning, Mrs. Mole hurried by, waving her paws. "Oh dear! Oh dear! My big blue ribbon is gone!" she cried. "I hung it on the fence for the Garden Parade. Now it’s missing!"

Pip’s ears perked. Fern’s tail swished. "A mystery," whispered Pip. "Yes," said Fern, "let’s help."

They trotted to the fence. "Clue-hunting noses on," said Pip. He sniffed the posts. Fern looked carefully along the ground. "Look," Fern said. "A feather." It was small and shiny black, with a tiny white tip.

Pip found something, too. A thread of blue ribbon was caught on a prickly twig. It fluttered like a little wave. "The ribbon went this way," he said.

They followed the blue thread pieces along the path. The sun made the leaves glow like green lamps. Birds chattered. Somewhere far off, a woodpecker knock-knock-knocked.

At a muddy patch, Fern stopped. "Tracks," she said. There were prints like little fork shapes, hop-hop, hop-hop, then a slide. Pip squinted. "Not squirrel. Not rabbit. Who makes fork tracks?" he asked.

Bristle Badger clomped up, carrying a basket of turnips. "Morning, detectives," he rumbled. He looked at the mud. "Those look like bird toes. I heard a chack-chack just before something shiny swooped past me."

"Chack-chack," Pip whispered. He tapped the notebook. "A bird took it."

Fern pointed ahead. "More clues!" A bottle cap lay in the grass, then a button, then a bit of foil. "Shiny things," she said. "Who likes shiny things?"

Pip and Fern looked at each other. Together they whispered, "Magpie."

The trail led to Willow Bridge. On the railing, a blue thread was tied in a funny knot—over, under, over. Fern copied it with her paws. "Tricky," she said. "Someone tried to tie it up."

Beyond the bridge stood a tall oak with a nest tucked high between the branches. The nest sparkled with bits and bobs—shells, twigs, a marble, and a spoon that winked in the light. A magpie hopped along the rim, tail flicking.

"Hello!" called Pip. "We’re the Sniff-and-Think Club. Did you find a ribbon?"

The magpie tilted his head. "Found a sky-string," he said. "Blue and beautiful. It sang in the wind. I borrowed it for my nest."

Fern smiled. "It is beautiful. But Mrs. Mole needs it for the Garden Parade."

The magpie peered down. "Hmm. I didn’t know. I like things that sparkle and swish. I was going to make a bow."

Pip looked up at the high nest. "If we make a plan, can we get it down?"

"We can make a ladder," said Fern. She called, "Tilda!" Tilda Tortoise rolled over with her little cart. Fern and Pip stacked empty berry boxes from the cart, plip-plop, into a steady step-stool. Bristle Badger held it firm.

"I’ll unloop it," said the magpie. He tugged and teased. "Over, under, over," he chirped, copying the knot he had made. The ribbon slid free like a river.

Down it floated. Pip caught one end. Fern caught the other. "Thank you," they said together.

The magpie fluffed his feathers. "Next time I will ask. May I keep this shiny button instead?"

"Yes," said Fern. Pip nodded. "Buttons are perfect for your nest."

Back at the fence, Mrs. Mole dabbed her eyes. "My ribbon!" she squeaked. "How did you do it?"

"We followed clues," said Pip. "A feather, fork-shaped tracks, and shiny things."

"And a knot," added Fern. "Over, under, over."

Mrs. Mole tied the ribbon in a big bright bow. Everyone clapped. The Garden Parade could begin! Carrots in rows, turnips on wheels, beet leaves waving like tiny flags—off they went, trundling down the path.

Pip and Fern returned to their tent. Pip wrote in the notebook: CASE CLOSED: THE RIBBON TRAIL. Fern drew a feather and three fork-shaped tracks. She drew a button with a smile.

The magpie swooped by and dropped a new sign onto their blanket: SNIFF-AND-THINK CLUB—FRIENDS WELCOME.

Pip grinned. "Another mystery solved," he said.

Fern listened to the cheerful chack-chack in the trees and the parade music in the lane. "And more to come," she said, tucking the magnifying glass back into the basket.