Freddy Goes to the North Pole

by Walter R. Brooks

  “Is that someone singing?”

  But it did not last for long. The limb was so slippery that Charles could not hop higher up on it and so get out of reach of his pursuers, and presently one of them caught him by the wing and pulled him roughly down. Jack had had no chance to escape, for two of the largest of the animals had stood on each side of him while the others were trying to recapture Charles, and he knew that if he tried to run, they would stop him. Now one of them picked up Charles carefully and replaced him on Jack’s back, and the leader came up and spoke to him.

  “Another little trick like that,” he said, “and there won’t be enough of you left in five minutes to make soup of. I shan’t warn you again.”

  But the prisoners did not need the warning. They were thoroughly discouraged.

  In about two hours they came to a cave, which was evidently the headquarters of their captors. Charles shuddered violently as he saw the bones lying about the outside of the cave. “Those are rooster bones, some of them,” he groaned. “Oh, I feel in my own bones that I shall never see my eighteen little ones again.”

  There were several large rooms in the cave and they were led through a narrow doorway into one of these, and a guard was posted outside. After a while the leader of the animals came in. “Now,” he said,” we can have a little talk, and I’ll tell you what I want you to do. If you agree to do it, we’ll let you go. If you don’t, we’ll eat you. You can take your choice.”

  “We don’t want to be eaten,” said Jack.

  “All right, then. Now listen to me. We’ve been following you for several days. There are a little boy and a little girl in your party. We want them. If you will promise to bring them to us, we’ll let you go right away. If you won’t promise—” He smiled politely, but unpleasantly. “Well, in that case, my dear dog, I’m afraid that you and your young feathered friend here—”

  “Oh, please!” interrupted Charles.” Don’t say it again.”

  “Very well. But make up your minds quickly. My friends are impatient—and hungry.”

  “But,” said Jack, “suppose we promise and then just go away and don’t bring them to you.”

  “Oh, you won’t do that,” said the other. “I fancy that I am a better judge of animal nature than to think that of you. Your friend might do it, but no dog would. No dog will tell a lie, even to save his own skin.”

  This was perfectly true. No dog in the history of the world has ever been known to tell a lie, and that is why man has selected the dog as his chief friend among the animals.

  “What do you want the children for?” asked Jack. “Are you going to eat them?”

  “Oh, my dear fellow!” exclaimed the other. “How could you dream of such a thing? Certainly not! W—ah—well, it’s a little difficult to explain. You see—”

  “We see perfectly well,” interrupted Jack. “And we’re not going to do it. You can eat us if you want to. But wait till our friends find out about it. Eh, Charles?”

  “You bet!” said Charles. Like all roosters, he had plenty of courage when he was angry, and the suggestion that they should betray their friends had made him good and mad. “You great big bully, you! You cheap, sneaky baby-eater! When they get through with you, there won’t be enough left to stop up a keyhole with. You get out of here!” And he flew at the astonished animal, clawing and pecking at his eyes, and drove him out of the room into the other part of the cave.

  “There, Jack,” he said as he smoothed down his ruffled feathers, “I guess I fixed him! Now all we’ve got to do is stand at the doorway. It’s narrow and only one of them can get at us at a time. Let’s see ’em try to eat us up!”

  But Jack was gloomy. “That’s all right for a while,” he said, “but by and by we’ll have to get some sleep, and then they can sneak in and overpower us.”

  “Well, anyway,” said the rooster, “we can hold them off for a while, and maybe Uncle William and Mrs. Wiggins and the rest of them will get here by then.”

  “Maybe,” said Jack hopelessly. “Well, it’s all we can do.”

  At that moment the sharp muzzle of their enemy appeared again in the doorway. “Keep back!” Charles warned him. But he did not try to come in.

  “Oh sure, I’ll keep back,” he snarled, glaring at them with his wicked yellow eyes. “We can wait. We’ll have a better appetite tomorrow than we’ve got today. Huh! We wouldn’t let you go now anyway. No rooster can play tricks on a wolf and get away with it.” And he disappeared.

  “Wolf!” exclaimed Jack. “Whew! We are in a mess if these are wolves. I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve heard about them. They’re the worst animals in the woods. They hunt in packs, and they’ll attack and eat any animal that isn’t strong enough to defend himself. They even eat people sometimes.”

  “Eat people!” exclaimed Charles. “I never heard of such a thing! Why, I can’t believe it, Jack; it just isn’t done! Haven’t they any sense of decency?”

  “What do you suppose they want the children for?” asked Jack.

  “Well, perhaps you’re right,” replied the rooster. “The only wolf I ever heard of was the one in the story Freddy read us once, the one that pretended he was the little girl’s grandmother and ate her up. But I thought that was just a fairy-story.”

  “Red Riding-hood,” said Jack. “Well, they’ll eat us up all right, and don’t you forget it.”

  “I’d like to forget it, for a while anyway,” said Charles. “Are you sleepy?”

  “Beginning to be,” said Jack. “It’s so quiet here, and I didn’t have my sleep out this morning. Suppose you tell a story to while away the time and keep us awake. They’ll surely come to rescue us before long.”

  “All right,” replied the rooster.” Keep your eye on the door.

  “Once upon a time there was a very handsome dog named John, and he lived …”

  CHAPTER IX

  A FIGHT IN THE FOREST

  When Charles had crowed so loud and long and despairingly for help, the animals had all been asleep, and Mrs. Wiggins was snoring so loudly that none of them heard him. None, that is, except Henrietta. But Charles was Henrietta’s husband, and somehow that familiar voice, raised in fear and entreaty, had penetrated her dreams. She woke and poked her head out from under the feather bed just in time to hear the last “Help!” he uttered before the wolves pulled him down. In an instant she was out of bed, clucking excitedly, and pecking sharply at Mrs. Wiggins’s nose.

  “Wake up!” she cried. “Charles is in trouble! Something awful is going on; I know it! Oh, wake up, animals! Wake up and help me!”

  “Wha’s ’at?” murmured Mrs. Wiggins sleepily. “Trouble? Wha’s a trouble? Fly on my nose, tha’s a trouble. Go ’way, fly.” And she shook her head, sighed, and went to sleep again.

  But Henrietta kept right on squawking and pecking, and before long all the animals were on their feet and listening to her story.

  “No time to waste,” said Uncle William. “I’ve warned Charles not to wander away from the camp. He could easily get lost, and there are wildcats in these woods, who’d like nothing better than a fat rooster for breakfast.”

  “Don’t you call my husband fat!” exclaimed the hen. “Poking fun at him when he’s in trouble, and—”

  “I beg your pardon,” said the horse. “I mis-spoke myself. Charles has a very handsome and elegant figure; I’ve often commented upon it. But look, here are his tracks, and here are Jack’s with him. They can’t come to much harm together. Still, we’d better follow them and see what’s up.”

  So they hurried along and presently came to the clearing where the wolf had been waiting.

  “H’m,” said Mrs. Wiggins, “more dogs, a lot of dogs. And they’ve all gone off together.”

  “Pretty big for dogs,” said Eek, who was riding on Mrs. Wiggins’s back.

  The bear had been looking carefully at the tracks, and he put his nose down and smelt of them. “They’re not dogs,” he said quietly. “Wish they were. They’re wolves. A
nd if we want to see Jack and Charles again, we’ve got to hurry. Come along, and be ready for trouble.” And he lumbered off rapidly on the trail the wolves had left behind them.

  Only a few of the travellers had even heard of the existence of such animals as wolves, but it was no time for asking questions, and the bear looked so worried that they knew something really serious had happened. They swung along at a good round pace and by and by came to where the tracks disappeared into the cave. No one was in sight, but as they approached, a wolf walked out and stood facing them.

  “Ah, good morning, friends,” he said politely.

  The animals stopped, all but Henrietta, who ruffled up her feathers and advanced upon the wolf, her head held low, ready to fly at him if he made a move in her direction. She looked really dangerous, though only a hen.

  “I’ll good-morning you, you disreputable varmint!” she clucked furiously. “Where’s my husband?”

  “My dear madam!” exclaimed the wolf. “Really, I assure you it’s unnecessary to take such a tone. Your husband and his friend are quite safe. There’s just a little matter to be adjusted between us, and then—”

  “Come, come,” put in the bear, “not so many words, wolf. We want our friends.” And he gave a low, deep, grumbling growl that made the wolf, for all his sarcastic grin, back a little way into the shelter of the cave mouth. “Come on; bring them out.”

  But the wolf shook his head. “Just a little formality to be observed first,” he said. “Just hand those nice plump children over to us, and you shall have your friends at once.”

  His words seemed to drive Henrietta into a fury. “Formality, eh!” she screamed. “We’ll teach you to put on airs with us! You let my husband out or we’ll chew your heads off and make your moth-eaten hides up into a rug for Mr. Bean’s kitchen!” And as the wolf started, to laugh, she suddenly flew at him and, fixing her claws firmly into his shaggy head, pecked at his eyes until he howled with pain and had to roll on the ground to get rid of her. He was up in an instant, however, and darted at her with open jaws, all his sarcastic politeness forgotten. If he had caught her, it would have been the last of Henrietta, but the bear had stepped forward, and with a sudden blow of his enormous paw he sent the wolf sprawling over a log, where he lay for a moment before he picked himself up and limped back without a word into the cave.

  “I guess that’ll teach ’em!” said Henrietta. “Come on, animals. Let’s go in and bring out Charles and Jack.”

  But the bear shook his head. “Not so fast,” he said. “I know these wolves. Get ready for trouble; there’s going to be plenty of it in a minute.”

  Almost before he had finished speaking, eight or nine long, lean bodies shot out of the cave opening, and in an instant the animals were fighting for their lives. The woods seemed to be full of wolves. They darted, wheeled, and snapped with their long, wicked jaws, seeking for a hold with which to pull their enemies down. At first the travellers were off their guard, and if the bear had not been ready, the rescue expedition would have come to an end right there. But, standing on his hind legs like a boxer, he knocked over two with a quick right and left at the first rush and, catching a third one by the tail in his big mouth, whirled him with a jerk of his head up into a pine-tree, where he hung, howling.

  By this time the other animals had got into the fight. One of the wolves had caught hold of Everett and was dragging him towards the cave, but Cecil caught sight of him and, remembering how he had persuaded Mrs. Wiggins to jump out of the window, simply walked under the wolf and then gave a little jump, and the wolf yelped, let go, and ran off squealing into the cave to pull the sharp quills out of his stomach. Each animal had a different method of fighting. Bill dashed about in short rushes like a small battering-ram, knocking over wolf after wolf, but not hurting them much. Mrs. Wiggins fought back to back with the bear, scooping up the wolves and tossing them high in the air. But she was such a kindhearted animal that even in all the excitement and danger she tried not to wound them seriously with the points of her long, sharp horns. Uncle William reared and plunged, kicked and bit and trampled, and it was he who really turned the tide of battle, for when he turned round and lashed out with his hind legs, any wolf who was struck by those huge iron-shod hoofs was unlikely to take further interest in the fighting.

  And presently the signal of recall was given, a long howl, and the wolves retreated into the cave, leaving three of their number helpless outside. The travellers took stock of their injuries. No one was hurt much, though the trampled snow was strewn with feathers and bits of fur. Ferdinand had sprained his beak slightly, and Mrs. Wiggins’ tail was a little sore because one wolf had caught hold of it and tried to pull it off, and one of the mice was lost, having been shaken off the cow’s back. But he turned up presently from a drift into which he had burrowed to be out of the way.

  “My goodness!” said Mrs. Wiggins. “I didn’t know fighting was so much fun! Strenuous, of course. But I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much.”

  “It’s fun when you win,” said Uncle William. “But what do we do now? We can’t follow up our victory, because the cave mouth is too small for us larger animals to get into.”

  At that moment the muzzle of the wolf leader appeared in the doorway. One eye was half closed as a result of Henrietta’s attentions, but he could still grin.

  “Well,” he said, “now you’ve had your fun, I suppose you know who’ll pay for it?”

  “If you dare so much as touch a feather of my husband’s head—” Henrietta began.

  “Oh, we’ll give you the feathers,” said the wolf. “No use for them. But I trust it won’t come to that. Our offer still holds. Give us the children, and you can have your friends.”

  “I suppose you realize,” said Ferdinand, “that we can stay here and starve you out?”

  “Oh sure,” admitted the wolf. “But you know we shan’t starve until we’ve eaten you know whom.” And he winked villainously. “Well,” he added, “think it over. I’ll be back for your answer in a little while.” And he vanished.

  Meanwhile inside the cave the two prisoners had been left undisturbed, although two guards were kept stationed just outside the door of their room. Jack lay down by the door, and Charles, who was getting hungry, wandered up and down, scratching now and then at the dirt floor in the hope of finding something to eat. Presently he uncovered half a dozen small black objects and, looking at them closely, discovered that they were large ants, which, after the manner of ants, were enjoying their winter’s sleep. “H’m,” said the rooster, “never liked ants much. Too spicy for my taste. But beggars can’t be choosers.” And with half a dozen quick pecks he swallowed the unsuspecting insects and then began scratching for more.

  He had uncovered quite a colony of them and was making a meal of them when an idea struck him. He stopped eating and, catching hold of one of the ants by a leg, shook him roughly. “Hey,” he shouted, “wake up!”

  The ant stretched, yawned, then sat up and began washing his face with his forelegs.

  “What’s the idea?” he said crossly. “Can’t you let a fellow sleep?”

  “I beg your pardon,” said Charles politely. “But it’s a big piece of luck finding you here—”

  “Luck for you or luck for me?” inquired the ant sarcastically.

  “Both of us, I hope,” said the rooster. “See here; how many of you ants are there in this ant-hill that I seem to have stumbled on?”

  “Oh, about four thousand, last census,” said the ant. “Four thousand soldiers, that is. We’re the permanent garrison. I suppose there’d be as many more workers, but I don’t know about that.—Say, is that all you waked me up for—to ask silly questions? What are you, a newspaper reporter or something?”

  “No, no,” said Charles. “The fact is, I’ve got a little military job I want done, and I’d like to hire about four thousand soldiers to do it. Of course I realize it means waking you all up in the winter when you want to sleep, but it isn’t much of
a job, really; won’t take over an hour; and I’ll pay well.”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right ant,” said the other. “I’m captain of the Queen’s Guard. But what’s your idea of pay?”

  “Honey,” said Charles. “I’ve got about twenty pounds of honey that some bears brought in to pay for their seats at one of my lectures. I’m doing a lecture tour of the North, you see.”

  “No, I don’t,” said the ant. “I can’t abide lectures. And why anybody should pay good honey to hear ’em—however, that’s your business. H’m. Honey, eh? The boys haven’t had any honey in a long time. I guess they wouldn’t mind waking up for that. Well, that’s O.K. Twenty pounds divided by four thousand soldiers—how much is that per ant?”

  “Oh, figure it out afterwards,” said Charles. “I’m in a hurry. My life’s in danger; I haven’t time to do arithmetic. How soon can you mobilize?”

  “Have the whole army awake and in line in twenty minutes,” said the captain. He looked about him. “Hey, Ed!” he shouted. “Why, where’s Ed? And old Three Legs? See him anywhere? He lost the other three in a skirmish with some slave-hunting ants last fall. They were both sleeping right beside me.”

  Charles looked away and blushed slightly, for he was sure that both the captain’s comrades were at that moment in his gizzard. But the ant didn’t notice. “That’s funny,” he said. “Well, can’t bother now.” He seized a neighbouring sleeper by the feeler and shook him. “Hey! Get up, Johnny! To arms, the Queen’s Guard! Wake up, boys; here’s a job for you.” And he rushed about, kicking and punching and shaking his friends until half a dozen yawning, sleepy-eyed ants were grumbling and asking what was the matter.