CATCH HIM-- DEAD OR ALIVE!
We made a hasty breakfast off a star-fish that we found stranded on the
beach; but this rather increased our painful thirst, and to find some
means of quenching it we hurried inland at the utmost speed which our
weakened powers could command. We had not run far before we came to a
large house.
"There is sure to be a supply of water here," said Whiskerandos. "Let us
explore the place."
"I fancy that I hear a dripping!" I cried eagerly, as we approached the
door of the back-yard.
The door was indeed closed, and sharp bits of broken bottles, on the top
both of it and the brick wall, rendered it impossible to climb over
them; but I-- my wit quickened by my painful thirst-- discovered in a
moment that, at the bottom of the door, part of the wood had been broken
away, either by time or perhaps the teeth of our brethren, leaving an
opening just large enough for a rat easily to creep through.
I was not one to venture on an unexplored region, so I looked anxiously
through into the yard.
At the opposite side of it there was-- oh, joyful sight!-- a pump, from
which drop by drop fell, with a most inviting sound, into a trough
below. And yet, faint with thirst as I was, the place had an aspect
which alarmed me, and made me fear to venture across the yard. Not far
from the pump, and between it and us, was an open green door, which led
into a garden or pleasure-ground, and though I could see nothing to
alarm me, my quick ear distinguished suspicious sounds in that
direction.
"In with you!" exclaimed Whiskerandos, impatiently. "Don't keep me here,
dying with thirst at the hole."
I drew back with a gesture of caution. "Whiskerandos," said I, "I don't
like the green door open yonder. If any one came through it into the
yard and cut off our retreat!"
"Nothing dare, nothing win!" he exclaimed; "I am thirsty and I must have
water:" and, hurrying through the little opening which I have mentioned,
he was soon eagerly drinking at the trough.
Hesitating, doubting, I was about to follow him, and already my nose was
through the hole, when a sight, at the remembrance of which I shudder
still, made me withdraw it instanter. Through the fatal green door near
the pump, a young man, with his hands in his pockets and his cap cocked
on one side, followed by several dogs, leisurely sauntered into the
yard.
I saw in an instant that for Whiskerandos escape was impossible. He had
the whole length of the yard to cross; his foes were far nearer to him
than me. His only chance was that of not being perceived; but this in
broad daylight, with the noses of three or four dogs not two yards from
him, was a miserable chance indeed. The dogs instantly found him out,
and were at him in a moment. My unhappy companion darted behind the
trough, quick as a flash of lightning. I felt assured that he would
there bravely defend himself to the last; but what could one poor rat
do, albeit the boldest of his race, against such terrible odds!
"Ha! a rat!" exclaimed the young man, looking quite amused and pleased--
barbarian that he was!-- at the prospect of seeing a poor defenceless
creature torn to pieces before him. "Ha! Carlo, give it him!-- shake him
by the ear!" The young man actually laughed aloud with delight!
I could not see Whiskerandos, for the trough was between us: I fancied
his look of fierce despair as he faced the foes from whom he could not
flee, and from whom he could expect no pity. He had evidently got into
some corner, from which the dogs could not easily dislodge him; for they
stood yelping and barking, showing their white teeth, with their greedy
eyes all turned to one point.
So the human savage came to their aid. Having taken up a stick which
happened to be lying on the ground near, while the dogs retired a step
to allow their master to give his ungenerous assistance, he pushed the
stick behind the trough, and by its means dragged poor Whiskerandos from
his last place of refuge!
"Ha! the fellow's dead! I must have killed him with the stick!" cried
the young man; and stooping down he lifted up the poor rat by the tail,
and held him aloft to examine him more closely, while the dogs leapt and
barked around, eager to tear their victim limb from limb!
"He's been in the wars-- lost his ears!" laughed the young man, still
holding the stiffened body on high by the tail. "I'm sorry I poked him
with the stick; he'd have given us some sport with the dogs!" Did ever
such a heartless monster walk on two feet before!
"Oh! Whiskerandos! Whiskerandos!" thought I, as, almost rooted to the
spot with horror, I stood gazing on the pitiful sight. "I am glad that
you are dead! oh, I am glad that you are dead! bravest, noblest of rats,
they can torture you no more!"
The dogs showed by their impatient movements that they considered that
their master took a great deal too much time in his survey of a lifeless
rat I suspect that he only did so to tease and tantalize them, for
suddenly raising Whiskerandos still higher, to give more force to his
fling, he cried, "Now Carlo-- Rover-- Caesar-- who's first!" and swung
the body away towards the door behind which I stood a trembling,
shuddering spectator!
But lo and behold! no sooner did the seemingly dead rat touch the
ground, than he found life, strength, and speed in a moment! The dogs
were after him like the wind, but the very force of the fling had given
him a good start, and he was through the opening under the door,
knocking me over as he pushed past, almost before I could recall my
scattered senses sufficiently to understand that he was actually alive!
I have some remembrance of the young man's exclamation of amazement as
the dead rat found his feet and disappeared,-- his shout, and the yells
of the disappointed dogs,-- but I recollect no more, for I heard no
more. Whiskerandos and I had a fair start, and we made the best of it,
and scampered off as rats scamper for their lives. Well for us that that
door was locked!-- well for us that there were broken bits of bottles on
the top! well for us that the hole was too small for the passage of any
thing larger than a rat!
I do not think that we were pursued: perhaps the unlocking of the door
took our foe too much time, perhaps he did not think it worth while to
hunt down such ignoble game, or perhaps he considered (but this I much
doubt) that the cleverness which a rat had shown in making so
extraordinary an escape, entitled him to a little indulgence. But we ran
as though a whole pack of hounds were behind us; we never paused to take
breath or look behind us, till we had buried ourselves in a corn-field.
"And are you really unhurt?" I exclaimed, when we stopped at last,
panting and exhausted.
"Unhurt? yes!-- only bruised by the fling,-- it was well that the yard
was not paved with stones."
"And you were really alive and had your senses while that savage was
holding you up with your head hanging down! Why, you looked as like a
dead rat as ever I saw one!"
"I was wide awake all the time," said Whiskerandos, "but I knew that it
was my only chance to feign death. This has been a narrow escape, Ratto;
I was never so near being torn to pieces before, not even in my fight
with the ferret!"
"I'll never go near a house in daylight again!" exclaimed I, still
trembling with excitement and terror. Whiskerandos appeared to feel the
effects of the fright less than I did, though his danger had been so
much greater.
"It is your thirst that makes you so nervous," said he; "you have not
yet recovered from our voyage on the barrel. There seems to be a wet
ditch around this field; come and moisten your nose in the water."
The relief was certainly great, and as I drank the cool liquid, I felt
my spirits revive.
"I wonder where we are now!" said I.
"I have no doubt on the subject,-- we are in old England again! The look
of the house, the hedges, the fields, that young fellow--"
"Oh! don't speak of him!" I exclaimed, "cruel, barbarous monster that
he is!"
"You are too hard on him," said Whiskerandos, in his own frank,
good-humoured manner. "He may be no worse than the rest of his species,
who think that there is no harm in being cruel to a rat. I suspect that
even your blue-eyed friend would shout with joy to see a cat worry a
mouse!"
"I don't believe it!" I replied indignantly; "a generous and noble heart
can never take pleasure in seeing pain inflicted on a poor defenceless
creature!"
"Ah, but--" Whiskerandos commenced, but our conversation was suddenly
interrupted by a little squeak from the hedge close behind us.
"I think that I know that voice!" exclaimed I, and I had hardly uttered
the sentence ere from the thick covert sprang the well-remembered form
of Bright-eyes!