IN THE DEN OF THE SPINSTER SPIDER
The East Wind soon repented of his rage, and, feeling not a little
ashamed of the harsh way he had treated the children, he came back to
apologise. Finding Tibbs sitting alone upon a pebble, he murmured his
deep regrets.
But Tibbs was in no mood to forgive him easily.
“It’s pretty easy for you to say you’re sorry, and all that, after
you’ve blown my sister and brother and Miss Smiler----”
“Don’t mention that Camel’s name!” interrupted the East Wind, “or I
shall get annoyed again!”
“Anyhow, you’ve blown them to--to smithereens. And then you come to me
and say you’re sorry! But, if you’re a sport at all, the first thing
you ought to do is to find them for me, or at least tell me where they
are,” continued Tibbs.
“Let me think,” began the East Wind. “The Clerk of the Weather took the
little sunbeam boy----”
“Kiddiwee!” corrected Tibbs.
“Yes. And dropped him into a crevice in the dome of the Taj Mahal;
and there he lies asleep, in the safe keeping of an Elderly Spinster
Spider.”
“A Spider!” cried Tibbs, growing white. “Why, she’ll suck his blood.
Well, what about Celia?”
“Do you mean the boy with the golden fire falling from his head in two
long streams, on to his shoulders?”
“Yes; but she’s a girl, not a boy,” corrected Tibbs.
“But, she was wearing----” and the East Wind paused in slight confusion.
“Pyjamas! Yes, I know,” said Tibbs; “heaps of girls do in Australia.”
“Pity I didn’t know!” sighed the East Wind, “because I hung her up by
the leg of her py--py----”
“Jamas!” finished Tibbs.
“Yes, pyjamas, to a leaf of a tall palm tree, and a bird came along and
flew off with her, thinking she was a worm, no doubt; she looked rather
like a worm in those striped things, didn’t she?”
“I never saw a worm in blue and white pyjamas! That bird must have been
crazy! But this is terrible news. How on earth are we to find her?”
cried Tibbs.
“It--it was a Japanese bird,” ventured the East Wind; “maybe that will
help you to find her.”
“Yes, by Jove it does!” cried Tibbs. “I expect he has carried her to
Japan. And what about the Camel?”
“Oh, _that_ I was too disgusted with even to blow on. I left it where
it was. But I have reason to know that it followed the flight of the
bird as best it could on its puny legs, and galloped along after them.”
“Good old Smiler!” exclaimed Tibbs. Then he added in a matter-of-fact
way, “I suppose you haven’t a December day knocking around anywhere,
that you don’t particularly want? If you have, old man, you might lend
it to me. I’ll give you some marbles and a piece of string in exchange,
and it’ll help to make up for the way you’ve behaved!”
Just then the East Wind happened to glance up at his beloved Taj Mahal,
and his brow clouded.
“No, I haven’t,” he growled, “and you deserved all you received!” He
was turning his back to go, when from the jungle came the soft, sweet
trumpeting of the little White Elephant. At the sound of his loved
one’s voice the East Wind changed again, and, turning once more to
Tibbs, he added:
“Try the North Wind for a December day, mine are not so warm as his.”
Then turning on his heels, once more he blew back into the jungle.
As soon as the East Wind had departed, Tibbs commenced to search for
Kiddiwee. But it was no easy matter for a little chap no larger than a
lead soldier to clamber over a huge building, such as the ruined Taj
Mahal. However, he struggled on bravely, and at length came to a large
slanting crack in the side of the building, which was like a winding
mountain pathway to him. Up this he strode, and at last arrived at a
deep crevice between two great blocks of marble, across which was hung
a dusty cobweb. With a great effort of will--for he hated spiders
above all things--he shook the web, and after doing this once or twice,
a huge, hairy-legged spider appeared and looked at him hungrily.
“Well!” said the Elderly Spinster Spider, for it was she, “What do you
want?” This was not a very polite greeting, but Tibbs thought it as
well to humour her, so he said--
“Nothing, Madame----”
“Miss!” corrected the Elderly Spinster Spider, folding two legs across
her chest.
“Miss,” repeated Tibbs, “I want nothing but a glance into your eyes,
for they are said to be the brightest gems in the Taj Mahal.”
“Rubbish!” exclaimed the Elderly Spinster Spider, but she carefully
combed her eyebrows with the comb on her third left leg.
“It is also said,” continued Tibbs, “that you have the kindest heart in
all Spiderland, preferring rather to remain single than to marry and be
obliged to eat up your husband!” (Tibbs had read somewhere that this
was the usual custom amongst lady Spiders.)
“Don’t talk of husbands to me!” said the Elderly Spinster Spider, “the
shy, undersized, nervous, shamefaced things! Ugh! I wouldn’t eat one if
there wasn’t a fly left in India!”
“Tender-hearted creature!” murmured Tibbs.
“Not that I haven’t had my little flirtations!” sighed the Elderly
Spinster Spider, combing her spinnerettes, “but I always stopped
before it came to eating the beasts. I think men-spiders taste horrid!
I nibbled the leg of one I was rather fond of once, just to see!”
After this heart-to-heart confession, the Elderly Spinster Spider
sighed again, and her eyes grew dreamy.
“I hear that gentlemen spiders are not your only suitors,” continued
Tibbs; “wasn’t there once a golden-haired boy?”
“Once?” exclaimed the Elderly Spinster Spider, “not once, but NOW! He
is inside my den at this very moment, sound asleep.”
“I can scarcely believe it!” cried Tibbs, hiding his relief.
“Don’t you?” said the Elderly Spinster Spider, with a touch of her
former severity; “then, pray walk in, and see for yourself.”
Tibbs needed no second asking.
The Spider’s den was a gruesome place--hung with the remains of flies
and insects--and in a far corner lay Kiddiwee, fast asleep. The
question was how to get him away from the old Spider.
“I must get her out of the way,” he said to himself. Then, turning to
the Elderly Spinster Spider, he said, “By Jove, you know, he looks very
pale.”
“Does he?” said the Spider, looking anxiously at Kiddiwee.
“These boys are awfully thirsty little chaps, you know,” added Tibbs;
“they want plenty of water.”
[Illustration: “Don’t talk of husbands to me,” said the Elderly
Spinster Spider.]
“Dear, dear, and I haven’t a drain of water in the den!” cried the
Spider.
“I saw a dew-drop--a beauty--hanging from the next crevice as I came
along,” said Tibbs. “I can’t climb for toffee, else I’d get it like a
shot; it’s the very thing for a thirsty boy. But you, with your eight
beautiful, long legs----”
Before he had finished the sentence, the Elderly Spinster Spider--who
was very good-hearted, as Spiders go--left the den in search of the
dew-drop. As soon as her back was turned, Tibbs seized the sleeping
form of Kiddiwee in his arms, rushed out of the den with him, and,
running down the long crevice road at breakneck speed, was soon out of
reach of the Elderly Spinster Spider.
“Goodness gracious!” said Kiddiwee, waking up suddenly, and using
one of Coppertop’s expressions--perhaps he had been dreaming of
her--“Wherever am I? Why! it’s Tibbie. Oh, I am glad, I am!” and he
threw his arms round his elder brother’s neck, and gave him a real big
squeeze.
“Stop that!” cried Tibbs. “Fellows don’t hug each other,” but he was
pleased nevertheless.
“’Es, but where’s Cece?” asked Kiddiwee, looking round anxiously, “and
Miss Smiler?”
“Celia’s gone to Japan,” explained Tibbs, briefly, “and Smiler has
followed her. We’re going there also, if we can find the way!”
“Ou! how lovely! I love going to Japan--I do!” exclaimed Kiddiwee, his
fair little cheeks growing red as roses, with excitement, and his big,
blue eyes sparkling like dew on a blue-bell.
“But how are we to get there; we’re so hugely tiny?”
“Don’t worry about that,” said a small voice.
“Mr. Atom!” exclaimed both boys in a breath.
“As I told you some little time ago, size is nothing. Even now, to some
of the insects, you look like giants. But it was a pity about the Taj
Mahal, wasn’t it? Never mind,” he added, “when you get to Japan look
for the North Wind. He’s a good fellow, and perhaps he’ll lend you a
December day.”
“Yes! But how are we to get to Japan?” burst out Tibbs.
“Quite easily,” answered Mr. Atom. “If you take MY advice, you’ll walk
quietly along this road till you reach a Bungalow on the left-hand
side. There you will find a little Baba-Sahib blowing beautiful soap
bubbles. Wait until one falls to the ground, and then--before it
breaks--step inside, and think hard that you want to go to Coppertop in
far-away Japan. You’ll be there in the twinkling of an eye. Ta-ta!”
Before they could thank him, Mr. Atom had gone, at least as far as they
could tell.
They soon arrived at the Bungalow, and there was the little Baba-Sahib,
busily blowing soap bubbles, as Mr. Atom had foretold.
They waited till a large and beautiful one came gracefully to the
ground, where it bounced light-heartedly once or twice and then stood
still! With the greatest care they crawled inside, and thought hard of
their wish to go to Celia in Japan.
After a moment’s hesitation the glorious bubble rose gracefully into
the warm air, and off they started.