Freddy Goes to the North Pole by Walter R. Brooks Page B

wouldn’t let you go now anyway. No rooster can play tricks on a wolf and get away with it.” And he disappeared.
    â€œWolf!” exclaimed Jack. “Whew! We are in a mess if these are wolves. I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve heard about them. They’re the worst animals in the woods. They hunt in packs, and they’ll attack and eat any animal that isn’t strong enough to defend himself. They even eat people sometimes.”
    â€œEat people!” exclaimed Charles. “I never heard of such a thing! Why, I can’t believe it, Jack; it just isn’t done! Haven’t they any sense of decency?”
    â€œWhat do you suppose they want the children for?” asked Jack.
    â€œWell, perhaps you’re right,” replied the rooster. “The only wolf I ever heard of was the one in the story Freddy read us once, the one that pretended he was the little girl’s grandmother and ate her up. But I thought that was just a fairy-story.”
    â€œRed Riding-hood,” said Jack. “Well, they’ll eat us up all right, and don’t you forget it.”
    â€œI’d like to forget it, for a while anyway,” said Charles. “Are you sleepy?”
    â€œBeginning to be,” said Jack. “It’s so quiet here, and I didn’t have my sleep out this morning. Suppose you tell a story to while away the time and keep us awake. They’ll surely come to rescue us before long.”
    â€œAll right,” replied the rooster.” Keep your eye on the door.
    â€œOnce upon a time there was a very handsome dog named John, and he lived …”

CHAPTER IX
    A FIGHT IN THE FOREST
    When Charles had crowed so loud and long and despairingly for help, the animals had all been asleep, and Mrs. Wiggins was snoring so loudly that none of them heard him. None, that is, except Henrietta. But Charles was Henrietta’s husband, and somehow that familiar voice, raised in fear and entreaty, had penetrated her dreams. She woke and poked her head out from under the feather bed just in time to hear the last “Help!” he uttered before the wolves pulled him down. In an instant she was out of bed, clucking excitedly, and pecking sharply at Mrs. Wiggins’s nose.
    â€œWake up!” she cried. “Charles is in trouble! Something awful is going on; I know it! Oh, wake up, animals! Wake up and help me!”
    â€œWha’s ’at?” murmured Mrs. Wiggins sleepily. “Trouble? Wha’s a trouble? Fly on my nose, tha’s a trouble. Go ’way, fly.” And she shook her head, sighed, and went to sleep again.
    But Henrietta kept right on squawking and pecking, and before long all the animals were on their feet and listening to her story.
    â€œNo time to waste,” said Uncle William. “I’ve warned Charles not to wander away from the camp. He could easily get lost, and there are wildcats in these woods, who’d like nothing better than a fat rooster for breakfast.”
    â€œDon’t you call my husband fat!” exclaimed the hen. “Poking fun at him when he’s in trouble, and—”
    â€œI beg your pardon,” said the horse. “I mis-spoke myself. Charles has a very handsome and elegant figure; I’ve often commented upon it. But look, here are his tracks, and here are Jack’s with him. They can’t come to much harm together. Still, we’d better follow them and see what’s up.”
    So they hurried along and presently came to the clearing where the wolf had been waiting.
    â€œH’m,” said Mrs. Wiggins, “more dogs, a lot of dogs. And they’ve all gone off together.”
    â€œPretty big for dogs,” said Eek, who was riding on Mrs. Wiggins’s back.
    The bear had been looking carefully at the tracks, and he put his nose down and smelt of them. “They’re not dogs,” he said quietly. “Wish they were. They’re wolves. And if we