THE CAPTURE
The next morning the sun shone brightly, and this in itself made the
kittens feel in better spirits. Oxford Gray, Junior, who had had a
fine night’s sleep, was positively gay, and Sally forbore to mention
her brave father and her dear mother. Perhaps, after all, Oxford Gray,
Junior, was right and something would turn up.
And something did turn up. It was toward the end of the afternoon, and
they were beginning to wonder where they were to get their next meal.
Oxford Gray, Junior, had caught a fly or two and found some bugs, but
he had not been able to get a mouse. He had felt it important to keep
up his own strength, as he had to take care of Sally, and she ought
to learn to brace up and look out for herself. She did get a couple of
bugs, and they had had a little grass, but no plate of fish had been
put out for them again, for no one had seen them.
They were at play under the giant rhododendron bush that was on the
south side of the pretty house that was not friendly to cats, when the
exciting event happened. The front door opened, and out of it came a
very pretty young lady. She had yellow hair and wore a pretty blue
dress, and was exactly the sort of a lady that Sally would like to be
herself, with a warm house to live in with plenty of food.
‘Goodness,’ said the pretty girl, ‘something must be done about you,
poor little dears,’ and she looked from Sally to Oxford Gray, Junior.
‘If only my cook liked cats--as it is, I can’t keep you myself.’
She stooped and picked Sally up and started in the direction of the
gray house on the hill.
When Sally found that Oxford Gray, Junior, was left behind, she was
very unhappy. She kept saying in her own language: ‘Please, I can’t be
separated from my dear, brave brother. I have lost my grandmother, and
my darling mother, so cozy and so kind, and my brave father, the mighty
hunter, and my brother is all I have.’
The lady, however, did not seem to understand, for she went straight on
toward the gray house. Then Sally began to struggle frantically to get
out of the hand of the pretty lady. She scratched as hard as she could
with her small claws. Without Oxford Gray, Junior, there would be no
happiness in life. She would rather live in the Wild Wood with him and
be hungry and cold than to be warm and well fed without him.
‘It is wicked to separate twins,’ she said, but, in spite of all her
scratchings, the lady walked on to the door of the gray house.
As they approached the door, to Sally’s joy, she saw with her own
bright eyes the sign her father had described to her, ‘Welcome, Cats.’
There was a knocker on the door and the pretty lady gave a loud rap,
and presently it was opened and Elvira stood before them. Sally was
sure it was Elvira, for she had the beaming look when she saw Sally
that her father had described.
‘What shall I do about this kitten?’ the pretty lady asked. ‘I can’t
keep it, and the mother does not seem to be around.’
‘There are two of them,’ said Elvira; ‘I have seen two.’
‘Yes, there is another one outside, but he was scampering off so fast I
don’t know that I can catch him.’
‘Oh, please do,’ Sally said in her own language, ‘or else let me go, I
can’t be separated from him.’
At last she had come across some one who understood kitten language,
for Elvira said: ‘It would be a pity to separate them. Wherever they
go, they should be kept together. Miss Mann has not planned to have any
more cats, and yet, if she sees the kittens, maybe--at any rate, I’ll
give them shelter for the night and a good square meal.’
‘I’ll see if I can catch the other,’ said the lady.
‘That will be very kind of you, Mrs. Conant,’ said Elvira.
‘Mrs. Conant’--so she was a married lady. Sally had not dreamed of
this, she looked so young.
Now, Oxford Gray, Junior, when he was left alone was very
disconsolate. He had not realized how fond he was of his little sister.
To lose Sally--why, to lose her was like losing the sun out of the sky.
Sally might be sad and woe-begone, just as the sun might hide behind
clouds, but you knew the bright Sally would come back. And now she had
gone, and it might be that she, too, like his grandmother, and his
father, and mother, would never be seen again.
‘I’d be better to her if I only had her back,’ said Oxford Gray,
Junior. ‘I’d let her have more of the food, but of course she really
ought to learn to brace up.’
It seemed a long time to Oxford Gray, Junior, before the lady came down
the steps of the house without Sally, for when one is not many weeks
old, minutes seem very long.
‘What have you done with my sister?’ Oxford Gray, Junior, asked
sternly; but the lady, although she looked unusually intelligent,
evidently could not understand his language.
[Illustration]
Well, at any rate, he was not going to be caught until he knew more
about the lady. So he made a mad dash for the garden. The lady ran
after him and they had an exciting race. He jumped up on top of a
barrel and she reached after him; he went under a garden seat, and
the agile lady ducked down after him; he gave a flying leap, and it
almost seemed as if she gave a flying leap, too. At last, panting
and exhausted, he stopped for breath and the lady captured him. He,
like his sister, scratched her pretty hand. She went straight to the
door through which she had taken Sally. She gave a loud rap with the
knocker and Elvira appeared at the door.
‘I have caught the other one,’ she said.
‘Bless his furry heart and his pink nose,’ said Elvira. ‘I am sure this
one is a boy; he seems so brave and he led you such a chase.’
Then Oxford Gray, Junior, swelled with pride.
‘He’s the image of his father, Oxford Gray,’ said Elvira, ‘even to the
pink nose. He’s much fatter than the other kitten, but she seems a dear
little thing.’
‘Well, I’ll leave the pair of them in your care,’ said Mrs. Conant, as
she put Oxford Gray, Junior, down on the floor.
Sally was perfectly delighted to see her brother, and he was very glad
to see her.
Meanwhile Elvira was getting something out of the pantry for them. She
brought out two saucers of milk. It was very delicious, and when Oxford
Gray, Junior, had finished his saucer, he came around to help Sally
with hers. She gave him a slap with her paw, but it had no effect.
‘It is my saucer of milk,’ said Sally.
‘You should lap faster! It is mine now,’ he said.
‘Aren’t they dears?’ said Elvira’s friend, Miss Harvey, ‘poor little
things.’
‘I like this one best, he shall be mine,’ Elvira said, as she captured
Oxford Gray, Junior, and held him in her arms. ‘See how much he looks
like his noble father, Oxford Gray?’
‘Then this one shall be mine,’ and Miss Harvey took the small Sally in
her arms. ‘The poor little thing looks thin and half-starved, but she
is a dear little kitten with such a pretty face.’
At these words Sally felt very happy, for no one had said anything so
kind to her since her mother died.
‘Poor little orphan,’ said Miss Harvey, ‘I will be a second mother to
you.’
Sally thought how cozy and sweet Miss Harvey looked, and Miss Harvey’s
big heart went out to the forlorn little creature in her arms. Suddenly
Sally put her two paws around Miss Harvey’s neck.
[Illustration]