Part 24 (1/2)
”I-I'm afraid,” said Bawly.
”Of what?” asked his brother. ”Indians are never afraid.”
”I-I'm afraid I might scare somebody,” said Bawly. ”I-I look so fierce you know. I just saw myself reflected back there in a pond of water that was like a looking-gla.s.s and I'm enough to scare anybody.”
”So much the better,” said his brother. ”You can scare the make-believe white people whom we are going to capture and scalp. Get in behind me.”
”Wouldn't it be just as well if I pretended to walk behind you, and still stayed up front here, beside you?” asked Bawly, looking behind him.
”Oh, I guess so,” answered his brother. So the two frog boys, who looked just like Indians, went on side by side though the woods. They looked all around them for something to capture, but all that they saw was an old lady hoptoad, going home from market.
”Shall we capture her?” asked Bawly, getting his bow and arrow ready.
”No,” replied his brother. ”She might tell mamma, and, anyhow, we wouldn't want to hurt any of mamma's friends. We'll capture some of the fellows.” But Bully and Bawly couldn't seem to find any one, not even a make-believe white person, and they were just going to sit down and eat their lunch, anyhow, when they heard some one shouting:
”Help! Help! Oh, some one please help me!” called a voice.
”Some one's in trouble!” cried Bully. ”Let's help them!”
So he and his brother bravely hurried on through the woods, and soon they came to a place where they could hear the voice more plainly. Then they looked between the bushes, and what should they see but poor Arabella Chick, and a big hand-organ monkey had hold of her, and the monkey was slowly pulling all the feathers from Arabella's tail.
”Oh, don't, please!” begged the little chicken girl. ”Leave my feathers alone.”
”No, I shan't!” answered the monkey. ”I want the feathers to make a feather duster, to dust off my master's hand-organ,” and with that he yanked out another handful.
”Oh, will no one help me?” cried poor Arabella, trying to get away.
”I'll lose all my feathers!”
”We must help her,” said Bawly to Bully.
”We surely must,” agreed Bully. ”Get all ready, and we'll shoot our arrows at that monkey, and then we'll go out with our make-believe guns, and shoot bang-bang-pretend-bullets at him, and then we'll holler like the wild Indians, and the monkey will be so frightened that he'll run away.”
Well, they did that. Zip-whizz! went two make-believe arrows at the monkey. One hit him on the nose, and one on the leg, and the pain was real, not make-believe. Then out from the bushes jumped Bully and Bawly, firing their make-believe guns as fast as they could.
Then they yelled like real Indians and when the monkey saw the red and green and yellow and purple and pink and red feathers on the frog Indians and saw their colored-chalk faces he was so frightened that he wiggled his tail, blinked his eyes, clattered his teeth together, and, dropping Arabella Chick, off he scrambled up a tree after a make-believe cocoanut.
”Now, you're safe!” cried Bully to the chicken girl.
”Yes,” said Bawly, ”being Indians was some good after all, even if we didn't capture any make-believe white people to scalp.”
So they sat down under the trees, and Arabella very kindly helped them to eat the lunch, and she said she thought Indians were just fine, and as brave as soldiers.
So now we've reached the end of this story, and as you're sleepy you'd better go to bed, and in case the piano key doesn't open the front door, and go out to play hop-scotch on the sidewalk, I'll tell you next about the Frogs' farewell hop.
STORY x.x.xI
THE FROGS' FAREWELL HOP
One night Papa No-Tail, the frog gentleman, came home from his work in the wallpaper factory with a bundle of something under his left front leg.