BILLY RELATES SOME OF HIS ADVENTURES
“Oh, Billy, are you hurt?” whined Pinky at his heels.
“Yes. I have a bee sting on my ear that hurts like the very mischief.
And, by Jove, I believe I have another over my eye for it is fast
swelling shut.”
“Come with us,” said the Red Cross dog, “over to the grove before it
closes entirely and you can’t see where to walk. When we get there I’ll
fix you up for I know what is good for stings.”
On the way they had to cross over a little stream with a soft, muddy
bank, and the Red Cross dog stopped there and said, “Now stoop down and
rub your head in the mud so it will cover your eye and get into the lid
where the sting is. As soon as the mud closes over it you will find
that the pain will stop almost instantly. I have seen my master rub mud
on too many stings not to know it is a sure cure.”
“Gee, but I hate to get that nasty mud in my ear and all over my face!”
[Illustration]
“Never mind the dirt! It is clean mud and will dry and fall off itself
so it won’t be hard to get out of your ear or off your face. Should it
be, you can just shut your eyes, hold your breath and dip your head up
and down in the trough until your hair is as white as snow again.”
“Well, I’ve got to do something, dirt or no dirt, for this pain is
setting me crazy. So here goes!”
Billy knelt down and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed one side of his head
up and down in the soft mud until it was as brown as an African’s face.
When at last he stood up all the dogs tried not to laugh, but finally
they went off in a perfect howl of merriment.
“What you laughing at?” asked Billy.
“Just step here where the water is clear and look at yourself,” said
the Red Cross dog.
This Billy did, and then he too began to laugh, for he was a most
comical sight. One side of his face looked twice as large as the other,
and on this side the eye was swollen shut with a bump as big as a hen’s
egg standing out above it. And this whole side of his head was as brown
as could be while the other was white, which made him look exactly as
if his head had been made in two parts and they were misfits.
“Hurry!” said a hound that was with them. “We better get to the woods.
I hear some one coming!” and away scampered the dogs and goat to the
grove, their old trysting place.
I should like to have had a picture of them as they stood beside the
clear stream, with the dogs surrounding the mumpsy looking goat,
laughing at his discomfort.
There was the big St. Bernard, majestic and tall; the long, sleek,
black hound with tan ears and feet; the fluffy white French poodle with
pinkish eyes; and the Red Cross Belgian dog with his short, sharp ears,
wide-awake face and short, glossy black hair, while over his breast was
still the white band with the Red Cross on it.
Once in the woods and comfortably fixed, Billy related to them the
story of his life and how and where he first met the big black cat
they had just seen, and the little yellow dog that was now wounded and
in the hospital.
“Before you begin, Billy,” said the Red Cross dog, “I want to ask if
the pains in your ear and eye are better?”
“Why, bless my soul, they don’t hurt at all! Even the swelling is going
down. You sure are some doctor!”
“Now go on with your story, and excuse me for having interrupted you.”
“Well, to begin with, all three of us--the little yellow dog named
Stubby, the big black cat called Button and myself--were born in the
United States of America. We have known each other for years and been
great chums. Why, we have scarcely been out of sight of one another for
years until I joined the army. My regiment left so unexpectedly for
France that I had no way of letting them know I was going, as they were
away at the time on a vacation. And I bet you we will find out when I
get a chance to talk to them that the minute they got home and found
I was gone they managed to make friends with some of the soldier boys
and made themselves so useful that they brought them along. Why, do you
know that we three have crossed the big American continent twice, and
we have been from Northern Wisconsin away down to the Gulf of Mexico?
Not being satisfied with that, we have crossed the Pacific to Japan
and we all three were in the war between Russia and Japan as mascots.
Before that we crossed the Atlantic Ocean, sailed through the Straits
of Gibraltar and over the Mediterranean Sea to Constantinople. We are
some little globe trotters, don’t you think?”
“Heavens! It makes my head dizzy to even think of it!” said Pinky.
“And you lived to tell the tale!” said the big St. Bernard.
“Yes, as I shall live to tell the tale of this war and about all of you
to my grandchildren when I get home,” replied Billy.
“But you must have had a great many narrow escapes and thrilling
experiences,” suggested the hound.
“I should think so! More than would fill a book the size of Webster’s
dictionary. As for hurts, bruises and scars, I have been wounded so
many times I don’t believe there is a square inch on my body that has
not a scar of some kind on it. It is a good thing I am not a hairless
goat, like those little hairless dogs they have in Mexico, for if I
was, I would look like a tattooed man,” said Billy.
“Tell us of your most thrilling experience,” begged the Red Cross dog.
“Heavens! I have had so many hairbreadth escapes I would not know which
one to pick out.”
“Tell us two or three of them,” said Pinky. “I just love to hear you
tell of your adventures.”
“Yes, do!” exclaimed all the other dogs in chorus.
Just then Billy gave his head a shake and a big clod of dry mud fell
off his eye, leaving it practically well and the swelling gone.
“A mighty quick cure, I should say,” remarked Billy. “I recommend you,
Doctor Red Cross!”
“Turn your head to one side and shake it and I think the rest of the
mud will fall off. Then by holding your head well over on one side, the
mud will fall out of your ear.”
All this Billy did.
“My, but it certainly does feel good to be able to see out of both eyes
and hear with both ears once again! So you all want to hear of some
thrilling adventure I have had? Well, let me see which one I shall
tell first, about being wrecked at sea, falling in the crack of an
earthquake that opened at my feet, or being blown up by a bomb in this
war or--”
“Oh, don’t tell us anything about bombs!” exclaimed Pinky. “They are
too common around here. We want to hear something we don’t know so much
about.”
“Well, then I guess I’ll tell you about the earthquake experience. It
happened when Stubby, Button and myself were in San Francisco.
“One day we were trotting along one of the streets in Chinatown, the
name given to the Chinese quarters of that city. It was about lunch
time, and Button had jumped up into a milk wagon that had stopped
opposite us, to see if he could not find some milk to drink, Stubby
had run into a butcher shop to see if he could find some meat, and I
decided to sneak into some Chinaman’s back yard and see what I could
find to make a meal.
[Illustration]
“Presently I came to a long, narrow, dark passageway that led to a back
yard. I sneaked in quickly, so a Chinaman looking out the window would
not see me. But alas, he did, and I had scarcely gotten half way down
the passage when I heard a door slam shut behind me and a bolt slipped
into place. I knew before I even turned around, when I heard that bolt
slip into place, that I was caught in a trap like as not. But I went
right on pretending I did not hear the Chinaman shut the door.
“The end of the passage opened into the back yard of a Chinese laundry
and there were lines and lines stretched from one side of the yard to
the other, but there were no clothes hanging on them when I went in.
Without paying any attention to me, the Chinaman began to take down the
lines, but instead of taking them all down, he only took a short one,
I noticed. Then he made a slip knot in one end, whistling as he walked
toward the laundry. He went inside, still without looking at me, and I
was beginning to think I had been mistaken and he had not seen me enter
and that the rope was not to tie me up, when out he came with a carrot
in one hand, the rope still in the other.
“He came straight toward me, holding out the carrot in one hand while
he kept the other behind him. As he approached me he kept saying, ‘Nice
little goatee! Nice little goatee! Have a carrot!’
“And I thought to myself, ‘You might as well try to catch a bird by
putting salt on its tail as to try to catch me with a carrot in one
hand and a rope hidden in the other behind your back, especially when
that rope has a slip knot in it. Oh, no, Mr. Chinaman, I was not born
yesterday or the day before! And unless you open that door quickly and
let me out, you are going to be carried out of it on my horns. I am in
no mood for play or jokes!’
“Just then another Chinaman came out of the laundry with a basket
heaped up with clothes to hang on the line, and the Chinaman with the
carrot said, ‘Yum, you watcha me catcha little goatee. Keep little
goatee. Him bring heap money at butcher’s!’
[Illustration: Billy gave one long, loud baa that resounded down the
big, bare room. (Page 49)]
“‘So-ho! You would sell me for chops and roasts, would you? Well, just
you come a little nearer and see what happens to one little Chinaman!’
“The Chinaman with the clothes began to hang them on the line, singing
a queer, monotonous refrain in his cackling language. By this time the
first Chinaman was within three feet of me, holding the carrot straight
out before him and staring into my eyes. Evidently he was not used to
goats, and felt a little uncertain as to what I would do. While I was
watching him, expecting he would try to throw the rope over my head
every minute, to surprise him I stretched my neck out quickly, grabbed
the carrot out of his hand and ate it up. Then he came boldly up to me,
as this gave him the assurance I was not going to butt him. But when
he tried to put the rope around my neck, I simply lowered my head and
butted him over flat on his back. This infuriated him, and he leaped
up and grabbed a clothes pole to hit me with it. Then the chase began.
Around and around that small back yard we went, upsetting everything,
he trying to hit me all the while and I dodging him but trying to
butt or hook him at every turn. Then I took to butting everything and
anything that came in my way. One thing I butted was the basket full of
clothes the second Chinaman had left, having sought a place of safety
when first the chase began. Now he sat cross-legged on the low roof of
the back porch grinning from ear to ear and watching the sport. When
I butted the basket, it shot straight up in the air, spilling out the
clothes as it soared, which the wind caught and carried over into the
other yards.
“Presently from all the doors and windows of the adjacent buildings one
could see grinning faces. But not one person came to help that Chinaman
I was butting and chasing. He must have been thoroughly disliked by his
neighbors for them to act as they did. Their jeers and calls made him
madder and madder and every time he tried to hit me with the long pole
and missed, they would call:
“‘Try it again! Try it again! Don’t give up!’
“Once the pole just grazed my back, and for this I went to the
clothesline and taking a shirt sleeve in my teeth I jerked it off the
line, stamped on it and then tore it to pieces. He nearly foamed at
the mouth when he saw this. And I was just walking up to get another
when some one slipped up behind me and threw a blanket over my head.
Well, of all the rolling and tumbling that went on then you never saw
the like! First I was on top, then the two Chinamen were. My legs were
loose and you better believe I used them. I kicked and kicked. Then all
of a sudden it seemed as if every Chinaman in all Chinatown was sitting
on top of me. They came from over the fences, from all directions, and
every one that came proceeded to sit on me. At last there were so many
of them I could not move. They tied all four of my feet together and
strung me on a pole, which they suspended over a place where a bonfire
had been made over which to make soap. Some one removed the big kettle
of soap and then they put me right where the kettle had been. Next they
took the blanket off my head and began dancing around me, and spit at
me and jabbed me with sticks, doing everything they could possibly
think of to torture me.
“The blood ran into my head so from being hung upside down that I could
scarcely see, and the ropes binding my feet cut into me until I bled.
But still these heathen Chinese showed no mercy and I was beginning to
wonder if they intended leaving me to die a slow death when the first
Chinaman said, ‘Let’s build a fire under him and cook him alive! Roast
goatee is velly, velly good, me hear.’
“This seemed to please the crowd, and they joined hands and ran around
and around me, chanting some heathen song until the old Chinaman who
had proposed cooking me alive came with some matches and shavings to
start the fire.
“Then for the first time I began to be worried, and thought, ‘Well,
at last I am in a tight place I can’t get out of,’ when I heard howls
of pain and rage and the fierce growl of a dog. Opening my eyes to
see what was taking place, I saw Stubby biting the heels of the
Chinaman as he stooped to light the fire, while Button sat on his back
scratching the very shirt off him. In about two minutes the yard was
cleared of Chinamen, I can tell you! Stubby bit and Button clawed them
until they were glad enough to climb the fences to get away alive.
“They had frightened the Chinamen off and saved me from being roasted
to death. But how were they ever to get me off that pole?
“At last I thought, ‘Perhaps if I wriggle and squirm my weight will
break the pole. Anyway, I am going to try it.’
“And soon I found that by moving my body in a certain way I could start
a certain motion that made me swing up and down and the more I moved
the higher I went and the pole began to creak. Then presently it broke
in two and came down all in a heap. I had scarcely touched the ground
when Stubby and Button began to gnaw the ropes that bound me, and in a
jiffy they had gnawed them through and I was loose.
“Do you think I ran away when I was free once more? No, indeed, I
did not! I stayed right there to get even with Mr. Chinaman who had
proposed to cook me alive. It was very dark in the yard now as night
had closed in while all the fuss was going on. So I proposed to hide
and wait for the Chinaman to show himself in the yard. Well, all I can
say is that if he ever did show himself I had made up my mind to kill
him. Stubby and Button hid too, and then we waited. And as we waited
the earth under our feet began to quiver and shake and low, rumbling
noises were heard like distant thunder. These shakings and tremblings
of the earth continued growing more and more violent until they threw
me off my feet once or twice, while the ripping, roaring noises grew
louder and more frequent. Presently fire bells began to ring and the
night sky was illuminated with vivid red reflections from huge fires.
But still we three watched for those Chinamen to come out of the house.
“‘Come on, Billy!’ Stubby barked in a whisper. ‘Let us get out of here.
We must be having one of those terrible earthquakes they sometimes have
out here in this country.’
“‘Yes, come, Billy,’ urged Button, ‘and leave the Chinaman to the mercy
of the ’quake. Perhaps the earth will open and swallow him!’
“‘Hope it does, but I am going to give him a butt that will break his
back first. I’ll teach him not to torture goats in the future!’
“‘S-s-s-s-h-h-h!’ exclaimed Button. ‘I see him through the window. He
is coming now.’
“Cautiously the door opened a crack, and the Chinaman’s crafty face
peered out. His eyes searched every nook and corner of the yard, but
he saw no goat, dog or cat. Button was so black one could not see him
as he sat on top of the fence. Stubby was hidden under a pile of old
chairs, tables and so on, while I was close against the house behind
the door the Chinaman had just opened. I got there on purpose so that
when once he stepped into the yard he could not go back unless he
passed me for I would be between the man and the house.
“‘What has he in his hand that smokes so?’ I wondered. ‘Why, it is a
dipper of boiling water! Gee, I bet he intended to throw that on me
when he saw me. Well, I’ll just sneak up behind him and give him a butt
in the back and make him spill it on himself and then he can see how he
would like boiling water thrown on him.’
“I did not dare to try to walk up behind him for fear I might stumble
over something and then he would hear me and throw the water, so I made
one big jump from behind the door and butted him squarely in the back.
Well, I made the jump all right, but just as my feet left the earth
it opened under me with a ripping, tearing noise and swallowed the
Chinaman with his dipper of hot water, and closed again so quickly that
when I came down from my jump I lit on solid ground where but half a
second before had been a yawning chasm. Whoo! That was a narrow escape,
for had I stood still the earth would have opened under me or if I
had not happened to jump high enough I would have landed right in the
opening and been crushed or killed as had the Chinaman.
“The ’quake that swallowed the Chinaman had extended far and shaken
down lots of the old rickety buildings in the neighborhood, and
buildings were tottering and falling all around. So Stubby, Button and
I lost no time in getting out of that place, I can tell you. I simply
butted down the door the Chinaman had bolted when I came in, and we all
three ran out and down the street towards the Bay. I won’t stop to tell
you of the destruction of the beautiful city and the fearful, gruesome
sights and sounds we saw and heard, or how the flames licked up the
handsome buildings after the earthquake had shaken them down, for the
destruction of San Francisco has passed into history and any one of you
who wish to hear more of it can listen as some one is reading aloud
about it. This ends the tale of one of my most thrilling adventures.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Whiskers, for telling us this
story,” exclaimed the facile Pinky. “I have enjoyed hearing it so much,
though you did make my skin creep and my hair stand on end when you
were telling of how they proposed to cook you alive.”
Then all the other dogs thanked him also for relating to them this
wonderful tale.
“I think we better go back to the hospital and look for Button and see
if we cannot find a way for me to slip in and see Stubby,” remarked
Billy.