the wild men’s heads when I give the word to fire. We don’t want to hurt
any of them if we can avoid it.”
“O-o-o-oh, I-I-I’m shot!” screamed the Dunce, as an arrow knocked his
hat from his head, but the rest of the little soldiers never heard the
foolish fellow, for they stood ready, awaiting the General’s order to
fire.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Fourteen
ON THE WILD MEN’S ISLAND
“Deliver this note at once to the Old Soldier,” said the General, as he
handed the following letter to the army aviator:
Commander of the rear guard of the Teenie Weenie Army, Camp
Bitem, on the Swamp Road:
My dear Captain:
We have had a battle with the enemy and our brave men have put
them to rout.
Our transport met with an accident and it was broad daylight
before we landed on the island.
The wild men attacked us as we neared the shore and sent a
shower of arrows at us.
I ordered my men to return the fire, and at the first crack of
their rifles the wild men were greatly scared and ran off into
the tall grass; I believe that it is the first time the wild men
have ever heard a rifle shot.
We have taken possession of a high bank where I have ordered the
men to begin work on a trench.
The raft is now on its way to your camp, and I want you to rush
over the cannon and baggage as soon as possible, for I fully
expect the wild men to attack us before long.
I am sending this note by our brave aviator so you can have
things ready to load on the raft when it arrives.
Respectfully yours,
THE GENERAL,
Commander in Chief of the Teenie Weenie Army.
P. S.—I forgot to say that none of my men was hurt in the battle
except the Dunce, who was badly scared by being shot through the
hat.
“Yes, sir,” saluted the Turk, and springing onto the back of the
airplane he quickly flew out of sight over the water.
[Illustration]
When the Old Soldier received the General’s message, he set to work at
once breaking camp and when the raft arrived the artillery was quickly
loaded. The raft made two trips during the day and most of the necessary
baggage was taken over to the island.
A line of trenches was considered necessary by the General, who ordered
Sergeant Gogo to direct the work and that brave little chap had the
trenches done in a remarkably short time.
Nothing more was seen of the wild men, but the closest watch was kept,
for there was no telling when they might appear again.
The little soldiers were much too excited to sleep and most of them sat
about the tiny camp fire until a late hour talking of the day’s
experience, but one by one they finally rolled up in their tiny blankets
and slept, while the guards paced back and forth, ever watchful for
prowling wild men.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Fifteen
A COUNCIL OF WAR
For several days the army spent their time building trenches and making
a comfortable camp, while the army scouts learned all they could about
the wild men and the lie of the land.
The Red Cross tent had been set up and the tiny cots looked very pretty,
with their clean white sheets. Fortunately, there had been little use
for them, as the army had been unusually healthy, the only exception
being the Chinaman, who had been badly bitten by a pollywog, or tadpole,
while he was taking a swim in the river.
There had been very little excitement in camp for some time. Not a
single wild man had been seen since the morning the army had landed on
the raft and the soldiers had nothing much to do while off guard duty
but to kill mosquitoes, which were thick about the camp.
Early one morning the Turk was called to the General’s tent, where he
remained for some time.
“Somethin’ doin’, I’ll bet,” thought the Dunce, who was on guard duty at
the time in front of headquarters.
Something really was doing, for the Turk was ordered to fly out at once
and make a careful map of Sabo Island. The Turk hurried to his tent,
where he supplied himself with paper and pencils and a pair of tiny
field glasses. The army airplane was dining on a fat worm when the Turk
arrived, so he sat down and waited until the bird had eaten his
breakfast.
“We’ve got to go out and make a map of the wild men’s island,” said the
Turk.
“All right,” answered the bird, “I’m ready,” and hopping onto the ground
he squatted down while the Turk climbed up on his fat back.
[Illustration]
The Turk headed the bird to a big tree which grew on the river bank near
the island and in a few minutes the airplane settled easily on the
topmost branch. The great blue river lay far beneath the Turk and with
the help of his field glasses he was able to make a good map of the
island and the surrounding country.
When he returned to the Teenie Weenie camp the General immediately
called a council of war and the little aviator was asked to explain the
map in detail.
“Well,” began the Turk, “the circle marked Camp Bitem is the place where
we camped and built the raft and the dotted line is the course we took
to our present camp. The wild men have a sort of camp or fort, I
couldn’t just exactly make out what it was, but anyhow they are gathered
in some force on the only cleared ground between their village and our
camp.”
[Illustration:
MAP OF WILD MEN’S ISLAND.
]
“We couldn’t march through the grass and trees and cut the wild men’s
camp off from the village, could we?” asked the Old Soldier.
“No, sir, I don’t think so,” answered the Turk, “for I do not believe
anyone could possibly get through the grass and trees.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” muttered the General. “I wanted to get those
wild men out of that place with as little trouble as possible, but it
looks as though we would have to take their fort by storm.”
All the Teenie Weenie officers gathered in the General’s tent listened
solemnly to their commander’s words, for they knew it would be mighty
serious if they were forced to charge the wild men’s fort.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Sixteen
WILD MEN BOTTLED UP
“I done got ’em bottled up! I done got ’em bottled up!” shouted Gogo,
the little colored Teenie Weenie, as he ran panting up to the General’s
tent.
“What’s bottled up? What’s all the excitement about?” asked the General,
popping his head through the opening of his tent.
“Why I-I-I done ketched one of the wild men and turned him ovah to the
guard and I done got three mo’ corked up in a bottle.”
“Great Guns! This is exciting. Tell me about it,” cried the General.
“Well, you see it’s dis way,” said Gogo, sitting down on a pebble and
mopping his head with his tiny handkerchief. “I done took a walk out
beyond the picket lines yonder. I knew I had no business wanderin’ out
dere, but I jus’ kept on and pretty soon I run across a big bottle
a-layin’ on its side.
“I was kind of ’spicious about dat bottle, fo’ I done see through de
glass where some dry grass had done been fixed up fo’ a bed, mighty like
some one been sleepin’ dere.
[Illustration]
“‘Gogo,’ I says to myself, ‘some one been sleepin’ heah in dis bottle
and it ain’t none of de Teenie Weenies, fo’ none of dem has been out
heah dis far.’ Den I made up my mind that it mus’ be some of dem
scalawag wild men and I reckon dey mus’ stayed in dis bottle when dey
was on guard duty watchin’ our army.
“‘But why did dey-all stay in dis heah bottle?’ I says to myself. ‘It’s
not cold nights.’ But jus’ den a big mosquito cam’ a-buzzin’ and
a-buzzin’ round and den I knew dat the wild men been a-stayin’ in dat
bottle fo’ to keep de mosquitoes from bitin’ ’em.
“I says to myself, ‘Some of dese wild men will be comin’ ’round heah
pretty soon and maybe I can done cotch ’em and extinguish myself.’”
“Distinguish yourself,” corrected the General.
“Yes, sah,” continued the little colored fellow. “Well, I done crawl
under a leaf and waited. I done wait fo’ a long time, but pretty soon I
done see fo’ of de wild men come sneakin’ along and pretty soon dey done
make right fo’ de bottle. Three of ’em done crawl in de bottle and one
of ’em done squat down outside by de openin’ of de bottle kinda like he
was guardin’.
“‘By de great corn pone,’ I says, ‘if a couple of de Teenie Weenies was
heah we could done cotch dese scalawags.’
“Pretty soon I thought to myself, ‘Why don’t you ketch ’em yourself?’ So
I done sneaked out up behind de wild man what was guardin’ de mouth of
de bottle and done cracked him on de head with de butt of my gun. I
didn’t hit very hard—just hard enough to stun him a little—and den I
grabbed a cork dat was layin’ near by and stuffed it into de bottle and
braced it with a stick of wood so the scalawags couldn’t get out. I then
picked up de wild man I had knocked down and brought him into camp and
dat’s all.”
“A very brave deed, sergeant,” said the General. “And I will immediately
send out a squad of men to bring your prisoners into camp.”
The Old Soldier was ordered to take a squad of men and go after the
prisoners, while the Doctor was sent to dress the bump on the head of
the wild man that Gogo had knocked down. After a great deal of work the
soldiers managed to pull the three wild men out of the bottle and when
they were brought into camp they were securely tied to a strong blade of
grass.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Seventeen
THE DUNCE IN DISGRACE
“Why are you making such a fine camp here, General?” asked the Doctor,
as he noticed that the Teenie Weenies continued to improve the camp.
“Won’t we have to move on pretty soon if the wild men do not attack?”
“We’ll stay right here for some time,” answered the General, taking off
his tiny sword and laying it on the table which stood in front of his
tent. “We are within striking distance of the wild men’s village, so the
aviator tells me, and we’ll use this camp for our base of operations.”
“General,” said the Cook, saluting the commander of the Teenie Weenie
army, “I beg your pardon, but there is something I must tell you.”
“What is it, sir?” said the General, returning the Cook’s salute.
“Why sir, there’s a thimble missing from among my cooking things. I put
two beans to soak in it last night and when I went to look at them a
little while ago the beans were lying on the ground and the thimble was
gone.”
“That’s most strange,” said the General; “I’ll have the Cowboy look into
the matter and see if he can find out what has happened to the thimble.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the Cook, “I’m a little short of cooking pans and
kettles and I’d like to have it back.”
The Cowboy was ordered to look for the lost thimble, but before he had
fairly started the search, the thimble turned up in a most peculiar way.
Down the main street of the camp towards the General’s tent marched the
Dunce with the lost thimble over his head and followed by a laughing
crowd of soldier.
“What’s the idea of this?” asked the General as the Dunce stopped before
him.
“Safety first,” answered the Dunce.
“What do you mean by safety first?” asked the General, trying hard to
keep from laughing at the ridiculous sight.
“W-w-well, you s-s-see,” began the Dunce, “I thought this thimble would
make a fine suit of armor, and protect me from the wild men’s arrows. I
took it out back of camp, got some tools and cut a couple of holes for
my arms to go through and another hole to see through—”
“Yes, and spoiled a perfectly good thimble,” put in the General.
“Jinks!” exclaimed the Dunce, “I never thought of that.”
“Of course you didn’t,” answered the General sternly. “You have a habit
of doing your thinking afterwards, and that is a mighty bad habit.”
“Quite right! Quite right!” cried a field mouse, who had been hanging
around the camp for a few days. “Quite right, I says. There’s always a
time to think. One ought to do a heap of thinking before one acts, I
says.”
[Illustration]
“Yes, you’re right,” put in the General, glaring at the mouse, who was
very talkative. “One ought to think a great deal and then he ought to
say only about one half of what he thinks.”
“Words of wisdom! Words of wisdom!” cried the mouse, never dreaming the
General’s rebuke was aimed at him, and he strolled down the camp street
quite pleased with himself.
“Now, Dunce,” said the General, “I’m going to try to see if I can help
you do a little thinking.”
“Y-y-yes, s-s-s-sir,” answered the Dunce.
“I’m going to make you wear that thimble for the rest of the day and
that ought to help you to remember that you have spoiled a perfectly
good cooking pot, just because you didn’t happen to think.”
All day long the poor Dunce was forced to walk up and down in front of
the General’s tent, wearing the heavy thimble. It was a warm day and the
thimble grew quite hot in the sunshine, so his punishment was pretty
hard, but there is no doubt it did him a great deal of good.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Eighteen
CONSULTING AN ENGINEER
The General studied the map of the wild men’s island which the Turk had
drawn, in the hope that he could figure out a way to attack the Saboes
without storming their fort. In storming the fort, the General felt sure
that many of his soldiers might be injured and he wished to rout the
enemy with as little damage as possible.
“I have it! I have it!” exclaimed the General one morning as he sat
studying the tiny map. “We can hire a mole to tunnel under the wild
men’s fort and then we can blow it up with a firecracker.”
“Bully!” shouted the Old Soldier. “And before they get over the surprise
of the explosion we can charge through the destroyed fort into the
village.”
“That’s the idea,” smiled the General. “We’ll go over to-morrow and
engage the old mole who lives down by the river.”
“Moles are great engineers,” said the Doctor, “and what they don’t know
about underground digging isn’t worth knowing.”
The next day the General and the Doctor, with an escort of four
soldiers, set out on the journey to the mole’s home.
“S-s-say, what is a m-m-mole anyhow?” asked the Dunce as the little
party marched along.
“A mole? Why, a mole—let’s see, a mole—why a mole is a mole,” answered
Gogo.
“I’ll tell you what a mole is like,” laughed the Doctor, who had
overheard the Dunce’s question. “A mole is an animal almost the size of
a rat and he lives under the ground. He has very small eyes and ears,
and he very seldom comes out in the day time, for it is pretty hard for
him to see in the bright sunlight. He has very short and powerful legs
with which he can dig very fast. He lives on worms and grubs and roots,
and he is usually very gruff and bad-tempered.”
Presently the little party came to the place where the mole lived and
the General ordered the soldiers to halt. They had stopped by the side
of a steep bank and near the top was a hole under the roots of a tree,
which was the front door of the mole’s home.
“Dress up in line, men!” commanded the General, “and when Mr. Mole comes
to the door of his house I want you all to present arms, for we will
have to use the greatest diplomacy in order to engage this fellow.”
The General stepped up near the bank and called loudly several times
into the hole and presently a long furry nose appeared in the opening.
“Well, what do you mean by awakening honest people out of a sound
sleep?” growled the mole. “What is it? What do you want?”
“I beg your pardon,” said the General as he lifted his hat and made a
low bow; “I’m awfully sorry I disturbed your rest, but having heard of
your reputation as an engineer I have come to beg your services for the
Teenie Weenie army. We want to engage you to dig a trench for us.”
“I’ll work for four fat white grubs a day and not a grub less,” snapped
the mole.
[Illustration]
“That’s quite satisfactory,” answered the General. “We are willing to
pay whatever you ask, but I want you to know just what the work will be.
We want you to dig a tunnel in the ground so we can explode a mine in
it.”
“I don’t care a snap of my tail what kind of work it is; all I want is
my pay,” growled the mole.
“When may we expect you?” asked the General.
“To-morrow at four o’clock, not a minute sooner or later,” answered the
mole.
“Shall we have breakfast for you?” asked the General.
“Why, certainly! Why, certainly!” exclaimed the mole. “How in the name
of angleworms do you expect me to work without food? What do you suppose
I’m workin’ for—pleasure?”
“We’ll have a couple of nice young grubs for you,” said the General
politely, although he was quite disturbed by the mole’s ungentlemanly
manner.
“Two grubs and a couple of angleworms would make me work better,”
suggested the mole.
“You shall have them,” answered the General stiffly. “Good day to you,
sir.” Lifting his hat politely, he ordered the soldiers to march back to
camp.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Nineteen
THE OLD SOLDIER’S WAR MACHINE
At exactly four o’clock the next morning the mole came into camp, and as
the General had promised, his breakfast was ready. After the mole had
eaten his grubs, he reported for work. The General showed the mole just
where he wanted the tunnel to run and immediately the old fellow set to
work. He burrowed his nose down into the soft ground and then pushed the
loosened earth back with his powerful fore claws. He worked wonderfully
fast and in less than a minute he had entirely disappeared into the
ground.
All day long the mole worked, coming out only for a few minutes at noon
to eat his lunch, and at half past five in the afternoon he again
appeared to announce that the tunnel had been finished.
The General sent the Sailor into the tunnel to measure it, for he wanted
to be quite sure that it reached a point just under the wild men’s fort.
“It’s just exactly eight hundred and fifty-eight feet long,” announced
the Sailor when he crawled out of the tunnel a few minutes later. “I
could hear the wild men walking on the ground above, so it must stop
right in the middle of the fort.”
“’Course it does,” snapped the mole. “Don’t you suppose I know how to
dig?”
When the mole had been paid for his work, he slipped off into the night
without ever even thanking the Teenie Weenies for his pay.
“Queer old surly fellow,” said the General as he watched the awkward
mole waddle off.
“Yes, but you have to admit that he is a wonderful engineer,” observed
the Old Soldier.
“Well, gentlemen,” said the General turning to his officers, “we have
got to move our lines forward. You see, we are about eight hundred and
fifty feet from the wild men’s fort and it is quite necessary that
trenches be built forward so we will not have too great a distance to
charge when we explode the mine under the enemy’s fort.”
The officers all agreed with the General and that very night several men
were sent out, when it was quite dark, to start the work.
The little soldiers had gone but a short distance when they were seen by
the wild men, who sent a shower of arrows at them, and Gogo was slightly
scratched on the arm, while one of the wild men’s arrows splintered the
Old Soldier’s wooden leg, so the General ordered the work stopped for
the time being.
The Old Soldier was quite an engineer and when he had whittled out a new
wooden leg, he set to work trying to scheme out some way by which the
men could dig the trenches without being hit by the wild men’s arrows.
“I have it,” he cried after he had puzzled over the matter for a time.
“We can make a big screen out of sticks, one that is quite arrow-proof.”
“How are you going to move it?” asked the Turk. “It will be too heavy
for the men to carry.”
[Illustration]
“That will be easy,” smiled the Old Soldier. “There’s a spool of thread
among our supplies and all we have to do is to remove the thread and—”
“Use the spool as a sort of wheel to roll the screen on,” put in the
Cook.
“Right,” laughed the Old Soldier. “We can push it ahead of us on the
spool and be quite safe from the wild men’s arrows.”
The General ordered the screen made and at once, under the watchful eye
of the Old Soldier, the men set to work building it. In a remarkably
short time the screen was finished and early the next morning the Old
Soldier, with six chosen men, started to push it toward the wild men’s
fort.
[Illustration]
As soon as the wild men saw the screen coming toward them, they let fly
a shower of arrows, but they either stuck fast in the screen or flew
harmlessly over the soldier’s heads.
“Great Guns!” cried the Old Soldier when the little party had pushed the
screen quite a ways toward the wild men’s fort. “We forgot to bring
along the picks and shovels.”
“I’ll get ’em, Captain,” said the Dunce, saluting the Old Soldier and
hardly waiting for the officer’s permission, the Dunce ran for the
trench which they had just left, as fast as his legs would carry him.
The Dunce grabbed up three picks and with the help of the Chinaman who
volunteered to go along, the two brave Teenie Weenies ran for the screen
amid the flying arrows which whizzed all about them.
All day long the men worked hard, pulling the screen along as they dug
back toward the Teenie Weenie trench, and at night, six other soldiers
took up the work where the rest left off. Several days of hard labor
finished the work and not one Teenie Weenie had been shot, thanks to the
Old Soldier’s screen.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Twenty
THE DUNCE LOOKS FOR EXCITEMENT
From the new trenches the Teenie Weenies could see the wild men’s fort
plainly. The little soldiers had to be very careful, however, for every
time they showed themselves the wild men would let fly a shower of
arrows. The soldiers thought it great fun to put their hats on sticks
and push them out in sight of the wild men. At first this brought a
tremendous number of arrows, but finally the wild men caught onto the
trick and only an occasional arrow would fly at the exposed hat.
The men took turns guarding the front trenches. It was very tiresome
work sitting in the narrow ditch waiting for something to happen and
most of the soldiers would have welcomed the order to storm the wild
men’s fort.
“I can’t see why the General doesn’t get busy and take the fort,”
growled the Scotchman one afternoon. Several of the men, who were off
duty, were lying in a mossy place under some big ferns, discussing the
matter. “We’ve got everything ready for the attack, the men are more
than anxious to go into action and we could lick the stuffin’ out of the
Saboes.”
“Keep cool, Scotty; we’ll get a chance soon enough,” said the Turk, who
was very quiet and always took things calmly. “The General knows what
he’s about and when he gets his plans ready, we’ll get all the
excitement we want.”
[Illustration]
“Excitement!” exclaimed the Dunce. “That’s me. I’ve got to have some
excitement; I’m sick and tired of sittin’ around here without anything
doin’.”
“Let’s get our guns and go out and see if we can’t shoot some dragon
flies or mosquitoes,” suggested the Sailor.
“Nah, that ain’t dangerous enough,” answered the Dunce. “I want to do
something that will give me a thrill,” and getting up he slowly walked
towards the tall grass near the Teenie Weenie camp.
The General had given orders that none of the soldiers should leave
camp, for the grass was so tangled and thick that it would be an easy
thing to get lost and, besides, the savage wild men might be hiding
behind the thick stalks of grass.
“Jinks!” thought the Dunce as he peered into the dense grass, “the
General wouldn’t scold me if I happened to stroll out there and capture
a wild man.”
After some minutes of thought, the Dunce hurried to his tent, got his
gun and sneaked unseen out of camp into the dark grass. He stumbled
along for some time without making much headway, for the stalks of grass
grew close together and the dead leaves tangled about his feet at almost
every step. Presently he came to an open spot near the edge of the
island, where he found walking much easier, but he had gone only a short
distance when he suddenly saw four wild men ahead of him.
“Throw up your hands—you’re surrounded!” shouted the Dunce, pointing his
gun towards them.
The wild men, not understanding the Teenie Weenie language, started
running towards the Dunce with loud yells.
The poor Dunce was so badly frightened he forgot to fire his gun and
turning about he ran as fast as his short legs could carry him towards
the Teenie Weenie camp.
The army aviator, who happened to be scouting above the shore of the
island, saw the Dunce being chased by the wild men.