The Barker's Dozen - Reminiscences of an Early Police Dog by Robert Warr

rats?  Is he a friend of those despoilers of nests?’
    It was obvious that I had managed to touch a nerve. It was also apparent that I was within seconds of being pecked. It was time to win the swan over to our cause.
    ‘On the contrary,’ I replied in my stoutest tones. ‘We wish to drive these vermin away from the river. It seems, however, that we do not know the full extent of their infamy. What do you mean when you say “despoilers of nests”?’
    The swan’s hissing became louder and I saw my master look up from his sketch book. While I had been sleeping, he had started drawing. In fact, he later painted a fine picture of the swan and me.
    ‘My mate had chosen a good place where one of these rocks touches the bank,’ the swan began. ‘We nested there without any problems for two years and raised several fine cygnets. One night a year ago my mate, who was with the eggs, became aware of men creeping along the bank. Naturally, she was startled and called her alarm. One of the keepers heard her and came to investigate, causing the other men to run off. We thought nothing more about it that night.
    ‘The following morning, while I was off eating by the bridge, two men approached our nest and drove my mate off with stones. While one of the men kept her at bay the other broke the eggs and kicked the nest into the water.’
    ‘Is your mate all right?’ I asked horrified by this callous act of violence.
    She is now,’ replied the swan.  ‘We have a new nest site, which we’ve built quite close to the village.’
    ‘Have you seen any of these men recently?’ I asked. ‘We know that they are going to come tomorrow night but we have no idea where they intend to strike.
    ‘I think I can help you,’ said the swan after a moment’s thought. ‘Every time they come they do the same things. I think this allows them to work quickly and in near silence.  Since our nest was destroyed, I have been more vigilant. ’
     
     

     
    The swan looked at me quizzically
     
     
    ‘The first warning that we have of one of their visits comes during the day. Three men come down the river in a boat. It is not always the same men but it is always the same boat. Sometimes we see the boat and the men do not come that night, but if they come we will have seen the boat earlier, if you follow me.’
    The swan seemed to be working all this out for the first time so I signalled for him to continue.
    ‘On the day of a visit the boat will pull up first at one bank, normally near a stout post or tree and they will place a white stone clearly on the bank. The stone has actually been painted with that stuff they put on their cottages. They then cross the river and put another stone on the opposite bank, near a similar tree. I have noticed that the river at this point is always quite shallow, level and free from obstructions.  One of the men will then walk a short way upstream and put two of the white stones close together on the same bank.
    ‘Later that night the men come and there is a loud noise. The following morning the stones are gone, but there are often scrape marks on one of the banks.’
    ‘Thank you,’ I said to the swan. ‘That is very useful. With this information we can be waiting for them.’
    My only problem was, of course, communicating this intelligence to my master, but I have my methods, as you shall hear.
    ‘Can I do anything to help?’ asked the swan. ‘I do feel that I should do something about my ruined nest.’
    This seemed like a reasonable request. For a moment, I could not think of anything. Then I had it: I would use the swan’s talents against the poachers.
    ‘Can you go upstream early tomorrow and watch for the boat?’ I asked. ‘If you see them, follow them and see where they place their stones. If they come, we’ll be down near the village tomorrow evening and you can tell me where they are.’
    The swan agreed to this and waddled back into the river. I returned to my nap until my master called.