THE JOURNEY WITH THE SWALLOWS
Ready had scarcely been there a moment before a Red Headed Woodpecker
came out of his hole and rather sleepily rang a breakfast bell.
It sounded like this: “Punk, penk, pink,” and it meant, “Come to
breakfast.”
Ready answered at once with three of his most cheerful barks, “Ready,
ready, ready.”
Then the Woodpecker saluted him and flew down to a little mound covered
with fresh leaves. Under this was a delicious dog breakfast.
After a pleasant little chat, the Woodpecker told Ready that he would
have time for a fifteen minute nap, and promised to call him. You
remember the Eagle had told him that he might be able to manage a half
hour’s rest at this place.
[Illustration: A Red Headed Woodpecker rang the breakfast bell]
So after his good breakfast, Ready was very glad to stretch himself out
on the ground. He was sound asleep in three seconds and oh, how he did
hate to get up when the Woodpecker first tapped! He was very tired
and his feet ached dreadfully, but after the third “punk, penk, pink,”
Ready remembered what it was all about and was on his feet at once.
“The Swallows should be here by this time,” said the Woodpecker, in
a troubled voice. “I think I must telephone to find out what is the
matter.”
After he had hung up the receiver, which was hidden in a curled-up
oak leaf, the Woodpecker said: “Bad news, indeed. One of the mother
swallows has a frightful pain and cannot be left alone.”
Then Ready knew why he had carried the Frog’s hot-water bag all this
time. He had wanted very much to drop it on the way as it had been so
warm and heavy. Moreover, some large bats had called out as he passed,
“What is it? What is it?”
He now went at once to Mother Swallow’s house, which was in the hollow
of a tree near by, and put the hot-water bag on her pain. You have
no idea of the relief it gave her. Wasn’t it good that Ready had not
thrown it away?
Mother Swallow was then quite willing to have Father Swallow and the
children go on with Ready. Even Fluffy Forked Tail, the youngest in the
family, went along.
Ready and the Swallows soon made up for lost time. The Swallows were
very polite, always waiting for Ready and flying low to show him the
way.
Everything seemed to be going very well indeed, and Ready’s heart was
full of hope. The sun was getting higher and higher and he knew that
it would soon be noon.
The Swallows had stopped a few minutes to rest on a telephone wire and
Ready was panting a little on the ground below, when suddenly a splash
was heard in a pond near by. This was followed by a great sputtering
and twittering and a call for help. Father Swallow looked quickly about
and saw that his youngest child was missing.
“Oh, why did I ever let him come?” moaned Father Swallow, as he flew to
the rescue. “He has only just learned to fly, and I fear his wings have
given out.”
In a moment they were all around the pond, and sure enough, there was
Fluffy Forked Tail in the water. Fortunately he had managed to climb
up on a big lily leaf, or he would have been drowned before any help
arrived.
Ready swam in at once and let poor Fluffy get on his back. In a few
moments both were safe on the shore, with all the other swallows
twittering about them.
[Illustration: Ready swam in and let poor Fluffy get on his back]
There was a family consultation at once, and then Father Swallow said
to Ready: “My child is suffering from nervous exhaustion, and I fear
we must consult a physician at once. I have heard that there is a
good doctor among the Barn Swallows about half a mile from here. I am
sending my two oldest sons over there to try to find him. The other two
children are making a bed for poor little Fluffy, and I must stay by
his side and fan him until the doctor comes.
“This is a most unfortunate delay for you, Ready, but I fear that it
would be impossible for you to find your way alone.”
Ready felt very much disheartened, for this delay might spoil
everything. The Field Mouse might grow tired of waiting. The Sandpiper
might fly home again, and then how could he ever get to his dear
master’s home? Indeed, he almost broke down, so great was his
disappointment.
But as he looked into Father Swallow’s worried and anxious face, he
decided that he was quite selfish to be so full of his own affairs.
He arose, and pulling himself together said, “Surely, there must be
something that I can do to help.”
Indeed, there was much to do, and Ready soon found his heart getting
lighter as he helped the Swallows carry feathers and twigs to make the
little bed by the pond.
Of course, this carrying of twigs and feathers was not a dog’s work,
and once a little Spaniel, from a field near by, barked “Baby! Baby!”
It was hard indeed not to run after him and give him a good whipping,
but this time Ready kept his head by saying to himself in a low tone,
over and over again:
“My Master Dick is waiting, waiting, my dear, dear Master Dick.” This
helped wonderfully.
In a few minutes the little bed was made. It was a lovely soft one,
beautifully lined with feathers brought from a chicken yard near by.
[Illustration: Dr. Barn Swallow]
Fluffy Forked Tail felt better immediately, and when two of the
swallows, who had been watching on the telephone wire, twittered
excitedly, “They are coming!” he roused himself and chirped “Good,
good!”
Dr. Barn Swallow, who looked very handsome in his beautiful buff vest,
turned out to be a very good physician. He took Fluffy’s pulse and gave
him a tablet at once. Then he said, “He will be better in a few hours,
but must have a good sleep now. After that he must go home and remain
in bed the rest of the day.”
Ready’s heart sank at these words, but he again pulled himself together.
Father Swallow told the doctor about Ready, and the doctor listened
with great interest, saying, every now and then, “Certainly,” and “Of
course.”
When Father Swallow had finished, the Doctor threw away the cigar he
had been smoking, and was silent for a moment. Then he said:
“I think it will be quite safe for you to go on with Ready and leave
the children here to take care of the patient. He must sleep, anyway,
and only needs some one about to see that he is not disturbed. You will
be back in time to take him home.”
Oh, how Ready loved Dr. Barn Swallow for those words! Even to this
day he never passes a barn swallow without saluting most politely and
asking if he can be of any service.
And so it was all settled. Soon the good-byes and thank-yous were said,
the Doctor’s fee was paid, and Ready and Father Swallow were speeding
along the meadow road.
Ready was afraid that it was too late for the Field Mouse to appear. He
felt that it must be long past noon. So he was greatly excited when he
saw one scudding along the road, and was about to run after it and say,
“I am Ready. Are you waiting for me?”
But Father Swallow laid a detaining wing on his shoulder, saying, “The
Eagle’s directions are to wait until the Field Mouse says ‘Ready.’
There are some bad little fellows about here that might lead you astray
and then pick your pockets.”
So Ready had to content himself with going quietly along, but his eyes
were eagerly watching both sides of the road. Several field mice passed
him and stared quite rudely, but none of them said a word to him.
Just as they came to a turn in the road, Ready stopped short, for
there, lying under a toad-stool, was a Field Mouse, fast asleep. Ready
gave a tiny bark. At least he thought there would be no harm in that.
The Field Mouse awakened immediately, blinked, and then squeaked:
“Ready?”
[Illustration: There, lying under a toad-stool, was a Field Mouse, fast
asleep]
Oh, how happy our little dog felt! His heart grew so light that he did
not feel it at all. Father Swallow patted him on the back and said
“Good-bye” at once, promising to send him a postal as soon as his son
was better.
The Field Mouse apologized for having fallen asleep, and guided Ready
to a dinner of nice meaty bones in an old pan near a barn.
“You were so late coming,” she said, “and the sun was so warm, that I
somehow lost myself for a few moments. It is just as well you are late,
as the Sandpiper telephoned that his wife had a seamstress this morning
and so he could not get here on time. You must wait here until you hear
him calling you from the beach.”
With these words the Field Mouse said “Good-bye,” and scudded off
through the long grass.
[Illustration]