“What can you see?” asked Eddie.
“Nothing,” said Rory. “Too dark.”
“It might help if you didn’t have your eyes shut,” Blue pointed out.
He opened them and gasped.
“What is it?” said Blue.
“It’s a… Crikey!”
Eddie scratched his head and Rory almost lost his footing.
“What’s a crikey, Clive?” he asked. “Is it like a camel only spiky?”
“It’s just an expression,” explained Clive patiently. “What can you see, Rory?”
Rory’s legs were shaking. “It’s big and white and furry. It’s got a great big head and a long, blobby nose… Oh, hang on, that might be its tail… and it’s asleep,” he whispered.
“Get down and let me see,” insisted Blue.
Rory bent over and she stood on his back, peered through the window and squeaked.
“It’s… it’s an abominable snowbeast, isn’t it!”
“It might be,” said Rory, “but don’t tell Orson and Ursie. They’ll be unbearable if they’re right.”
Blue panicked and nearly fell backwards.
“Arghh… it’s waking up!”
“Everybody run!” said Rory.
It wasn’t easy to run in the snow and, as the penguins scrabbled about and tripped over each other trying to make their way up the slippery steps to their enclosure, there was a worse sight to come. Having formed a wobbly pyramid and tumbled back over the wall, they were confronted by an angry-looking Paulie and some very worried fairy penguins.
Paulie pointed to the zoo clock and tapped his foot. “What time do you call this? Yet again, you’ve gone over the wall deliberately and on purpose!”
Rory caught his breath and was about to explain himself when Muriel opened her beak.
“Oh my cod, Rory,” she said. “You are such a bad penguin. I told you not to go, but you wouldn’t listen, would he, Hatty?”
“I wasn’t listening,” said Hatty.
“We thought you’d been eaten!” wailed Brenda. “You had a little cry, didn’t you, Muriel?”
Muriel was about to throttle Brenda when the Arty Party Penguins arrived with a flip chart and pens.
“The bears told us where you’d gone,” said Waldo. “We were so worried; was it a frightful beast?”
Rory nodded furiously. “Great… big… furry… huge… horrible…” he panted.
“Massive fangs and… and… and claws!” puffed Blue.
Wesley and Warren pulled the lids off their pens and, listening to the vivid description, they began to scribble down the features of the terrifying animal.
“Enormous horns… hundreds of toes… wings like an elephant!” added Eddie, who hadn’t even seen it.
Waldo looked at him sideways. “Hmm… I don’t suppose anyone thought to bring an eraser.”
But the Arty Party Penguins were unstoppable.
“Wings, Wesley! Draw the wings, love,” said Warren. “Oh, that’s so realistic, it’s better than a photograph!”
Rory put his head on one side and squinted at the portrait. It didn’t look anything like the creature he’d seen, but was that because he’d described it badly or because Wesley and Warren couldn’t draw? He didn’t like to say, so he kept quiet. The bears, however, had plenty to say and would not shut up.
“It’s an abominable snowbeast, plain as the beak on your face,” said Orson.
“Told you so,” added Ursie. “I’m surprised the zoo has permission to keep it.”
“Me too,” insisted Orson. “That monster goes way beyond the Dangerous Animals Act. I shan’t sleep a wink in my bed.”
“You can share mine,” said Ursie, “as long as you don’t snore.”
As far as Rory could see, the only good thing to come out of all this was that he wouldn’t have to give the bears any salmon – not now they’d grassed him up to Paulie. He waited to see what his punishment would be. It was bound to be something awful, like babysitting the chicks or changing the pebbles in the boss’s toilet.
“I’m sorry, Paulie,” he said, “but I had to find out for all our sakes.”
Paulie shook his head solemnly. “Rory, sometimes rules are made to be broken, but this was not one of those times! You put yourself and your friends in grave danger and for what? We can’t make the monster go away. All we can do is keep out of its way.”
He waddled over to the wall and stood there as if he was on guard.
“Go to bed,” he ordered, “and don’t even think about sneaking back over this wall to visit that beast! Do I have your promise?”
“Yep, you do!” said Muriel. “What kind of idiots would do a crazy thing like that?”
Rory and Blue looked at each other knowingly and, as the other penguins hurried back to their nests, they hung back, went into a huddle and began to hatch a plan.
fter a restless bedtime ruined by terrible dreams about the abominable snowbeast, Blue went round to see Rory. He’d had no sleep either and looked very bleary-eyed.
“Did you have nightmares too?” she asked.
Rory nodded. “Yeah, about Muriel.”
Blue looked at him sideways. “Not about the snowbeast?”
“That was in it too,” he admitted. “It was almost as scary as her. You know what we agreed last night about going back over the wall to find out if the beast is as abominable as it looks…?”
“I’m still up for it,” said Blue, “if you are.”
“Good,” said Rory. “It’s not like we promised Paulie we wouldn’t – that was Muriel and she’s not the boss of us.”
Muriel, however, liked to think she was – and she could get Hatty and Brenda to do whatever she asked – but although Blue was the smallest fairy penguin in the pool, she was made of much stronger stuff.
“Muriel had no right to make promises on our behalf,” she said. “So I think we should go back tonight with Brenda and ask her to read the name of the animal in the new enclosure for us.”
“Brilliant! I’d forgotten Brenda could read,” said Rory, trying to stifle a yawn. “Fish Face, you’re a genius. Can I go back to bed now?”
It was agreed that they would catch up on their sleep during the day and meet up after dark.
As midnight approached, Rory and Blue made their way as quietly as they could to Muriel’s hutch in the moonlight to fetch Brenda.
The three fairy penguins were having a sleepover, but the laughter was so loud, it was clear that they were all still wide awake.
“I wonder what’s so funny?” said Rory, pressing his ear to the door. Unfortunately for him, it hadn’t been put on the latch properly and it flew open and he fell through. Brenda and Hatty gave a startled shriek.
“Oh, look what the cat’s dragged in,” said Muriel as Rory picked himself up off the hutch floor. He looked at the line-up of little birds pointing and laughing at him and reeled back in horror.
“Arghh! What’s happened to your faces?”
They were covered in slime and suckers from chin to eyebrows and Muriel had a tentacle dangling off her beak like a turkey’s wattle.
“Typical rockhopper. You know nothing about beauty, do you?” she scoffed. “We’re having squidskin face packs. Tell him why, Hatty.”
Hatty wiped a bit of goo out of her eye with a sticky flipper.
“Because you said, if we didn’t, you would punish us horribly.”
Muriel tutted loudly. “No, I did not! Brenda, why are we having our face packs? Go on, tell Rory.”
Brenda shrugged miserably. Some of it had run into her mouth and, as the squid had gone off, it tasted awful.
“Because you said… pltheugh… it would make us almost as beautiful as you,” she spat.
“I was exaggerating,” said Muriel. “It would take a lot more than a face pack for that to happen. You should try one, Bloop. You have two very large pores on your beak that need cleansing.”
Blue went cross-eyed to check.
“Those are my nos
trils, Muriel,” she sighed.
Muriel peered at them and snorted. “Whatever they are, they’re blocked. What are you doing here, anyhoo? You weren’t invited to my sleepover.”
“We need Brenda,” said Blue, leaping back as a glob of squid plopped off Muriel’s cheek and almost landed on her foot.
Brenda, who was thrilled at being needed, began to clean herself up.
“Nobody needs Brenda,” muttered Muriel. “What has she got that I haven’t?”
Blue could think of a whole list of things, but now wasn’t the time to mention them.
“Brenda can read,” she said. “We need her to come and tell us what it says on the new enclosure.”
Brenda was ready and almost out of the door when Muriel barred her way.
“You’re not going anywhere, missy!” she said. “I need you to give me a pedicure… Where do you think you’re off to, Hatty?”
“I’m going with Brenda,” said Hatty, who didn’t fancy clipping Muriel’s claws in her absence. “Brenda’s my friend and I’m going to look after her.”
Muriel pouted, pushed past Hatty and waddled outside. “No, Brenda’s my friend; I’m going to look after her!” she insisted.
“Oh, kippers!” muttered Rory. “Now I’ve got to look after all three of them.”
He led the little gaggle of penguins across the star-lit snow with Blue by his side and, although Eddie and Clive weren’t there, it was easier to climb out of the enclosure this time. The fairy penguins might not have been as tall as the rockhoppers, but they were good at balancing, and so light that Rory could easily pull them up. Brenda was the first to go over, but Hatty was a bit nervous and sat on the top, quivering.
“Don’t be such a wimp, Hatty,” said Muriel. “It’s soft snow and you’ve got plenty of padding down below.”
Hatty gave a silent scream, jumped through the air and landed safely in a thick white drift.
“Come on then, Muriel,” said Rory. “Your turn to jump.”
“I just need to preen my plumage,” said Muriel, who hadn’t realised the drop was quite so sheer.
“You’re not scared, are you?” said Blue. “Do you want to hold flippers?”
“Stop rushing me, Bloop!” snapped Muriel.
“We’ll catch you!” said Brenda and Hatty.
Then, with a pitiful cry – “Farewell, cruel world. Tell Warren I love him!” – Muriel threw herself off and landed face down in the snow with her bottom in the air.
“I meant to do that,” she said, after picking herself up and brushing herself down. “That’s how it’s supposed to be done. Remember that next time, Hatty and Brenda.”
But they had already gone ahead, following Rory down the steep steps over to the brass plaque screwed to the wall of the new enclosure. Thankfully, there was no sign of the dreaded beast so, encouraged by her friends, Brenda stood on tiptoes and squinted at the lettering.
“What does it say?” asked Rory excitedly.
“Um… it says… ooh… I can’t read it,” groaned Brenda.
“Why not?” said Blue. “Is it a really hard spelling?”
“No,” said Brenda. “There’s something in my eye.”
Muriel got her in a headlock, prised her eyelid open and removed a string of squid mucus with her flipper tip. Brenda blinked furiously and tried to read the sign again.
“Ah!” she said, “I can see now. Whatever animal it is, it begins with the letter P.”
“Cauliflower!” said Muriel.
“That begins with a C,” said Brenda, “and a cauliflower is a vegetable, not an animal.”
“I said pollyflower, not cauliflower,” insisted Muriel. “It’s a sort of enormous… flowery… parrot.”
“Perhaps it’s P for python?” wondered Rory. It seemed an awfully large cave for a python, but maybe it was a giant one.
Brenda shook her head. “No, there’s an O after the P.”
“Possum?” said Blue. “Potteroo? Polecat?”
They were wild guesses and they were wrong, but suddenly, all was revealed.
“P… O… L… A… R!” exclaimed Brenda. “It’s a polar bear!”
“I knew it!” said Muriel triumphantly. “Didn’t I say it was a polar bear all along, Hatty and Brenda?”
But none of the penguins had ever heard of such a thing and nor had she. They were familiar with brown bears, as they lived right next to them, but this polar bear? Was it a real bear or did it just look like a bear, only more ferocious?
“It says here that it comes from the Arctic,” added Brenda. “It’s the largest bear in the world.”
“It’s bound to eat lots of penguins then,” said Rory. “I don’t like the sound of it.”
Blue didn’t seem to share his anxiety. She waddled off towards the little viewing window, gathered a big pile of snow below it and patted it down hard.
Rory raced after her. “What are you doing? Get down before you make it angry!”
“Yes, Bloop. Get down before you make me angry,” added Muriel.
“No!” said Blue defiantly, standing on the snowy step she’d made so she could see through the glass. “If polar bears are the biggest, why is this one so little? It would only come up to Orson’s knee.”
The little white bear had its paws over its eyes.
“It’s awake… and it’s whimpering,” said Blue.
“Let me see,” said Brenda. “Is it a baby? I love baby animals… Awww… Look, Hatty. It’s so cute.”
“It is not cute. It eats penguins!” hissed Rory. “No, Muriel, don’t bang on the window!”
But it was too late. Muriel had already tapped on the glass with her beak to get its attention.
“Cooeee! What’s wrong, you big baby?”
The polar bear stopped crying, took its paws away from its eyes and stared in terror at the strange creatures jumping up and down and waving at it. It backed away, squeaking, ran round in circles, then charged towards the window, growling, in a pathetic attempt to scare them away.
“Run, Blue!” said Rory.
“Oh dear,” she said, taking no notice of him, “we’ve scared the poor thing. Keep still, Brenda. Stop screaming , Muriel!”
Blue hopped down and called gently to the cub through the narrow railings near the cave entrance.
“Don’t be frightened; we don’t eat bears. We just want to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to him!” said Rory.
The cub’s curiosity finally got the better of him and he crept slowly towards them on his belly. Rory leapt back. He was normally quite brave, but even though this creature was smaller than a brown bear and behind bars, it was much bigger and stronger than he was and it had a row of sharp teeth that he didn’t trust.
“Don’t be scared, little one,” said Blue.
“I’m not scared!” insisted Rory.
Blue rolled her eyes. “I was talking to the bear.”
The cub looked at them mournfully, then slumped down with its big leathery feet sticking out and sucked its paw.
“I want Mummy,” it sobbed.
It was more than Blue could bear. Before Rory could stop her, she sucked her tummy in, squeezed through the railings and waddled over to it.
“What are you doing?” gasped Rory. “Look out! He thinks you’re a penguin sandwich.”
“He needs a cuddle,” said Blue, putting a flipper round the bear. “He’s lost his mother.”
“He’s probably eaten her!” wailed Rory. He could hardly watch. He was convinced that any second now, the smallest, biggest bear in the world was about to bite his best friend’s head off – but Brenda wasn’t.
“Look, Rory! He’s nuzzling up to her – he likes Blue.”
“Huh! I suppose someone’s got to,” grumbled Muriel. “Go on, Doctor Bluelittle, don’t just sit there wuzzling, find out what it’s called.”
“What’s your name, little cub?” whispered Blue.
The polar bear sighed. “Frosty. I got a sore paw.”
<
br /> He held it up for them to see and, looking very sorry for himself, he told them his story. He’d been born in the wild, he said, and he’d been very happy following his mother while she hunted for seals.
“She hunts seals,” interrupted Rory, “not penguins?”
The cub looked at him quizzically. “What is a penguin, please?”
“We are,” said Blue helpfully. “Me, Brenda, Hatty and Muriel are fairy penguins and Rory’s a rockhopper.”
“Oh,” said the cub. “We don’t have penguins where I come from.”
Rory breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said. “We don’t taste nice anyway. How come you ended up in City Zoo, Frosty?”
The baby bear’s big brown eyes filled with tears as he explained. It appeared that he’d wandered off, chasing an arctic hare, and got his foot caught in a trap.
“Ouch,” said Blue. “You poor thing.”
“Mummy couldn’t save me,” he said. “She couldn’t open the trap. I was there for days.” He winced at the memory.
“Sounds awful,” said Rory, who had squeezed through the bars with the others to listen to the tale. “How did you escape?”
“Explorers found me,” said Frosty. “I was in terrible pain and starving, so they put me on a plane to City Zoo to be mended by a vet who was world-famous for operating on bears.”
“That’ll be Mr Bruin,” said Blue.
Mr Bruin had worked at City Zoo for years. He was head of Surgery, specialised in large mammals and, when Orson fell out of a tree, it was Mr Bruin who fixed his paw. When Ursie slipped and broke his leg doing one of his silly dance routines, it was Mr Bruin who put it in a plaster cast. Ursie had worried that he’d never dance again – not that he could dance well in the first place – but, thanks to Mr Bruin, his leg was as good as new.
“He was very kind to me,” admitted Frosty. “My operation went well, but I’m not allowed home until I’m fit and strong again and it’s taking forever!” He threw back his head, made a little ‘o’ shape with his mouth and howled.
“I’m booooored and I’m hooooomesick and I’m loooonely!”
Blue gave him a comforting pat. “Don’t worry, Frosty. We’ll help you. We’ll have you back in the wild in no time – won’t we, Rory?”
Penguin Pandemonium Page 3
