The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (6 page)

PART TWO

Capture

ONE

As each day passed, the children's ability to look, listen, feel, taste and smell improved immeasurably.

The professor taught them the wonders of music; not only instrumental music, but the music of running water and the sighing of the wind, the hum of a city and the song of the birds.

Lindy was by far the best pupil. Her imagination was so vivid and her senses so aware that she easily pulled ahead. The professor knew that she was already capable of making the journey to Whangdoodleland, but the decision to go had to be delayed because the boys were not ready. Tom was doing well, but Ben was having difficulties. For the first time in his life he discovered that being the eldest did not make him the most competent. Being thirteen years of age, he had more to question, more to doubt. He had to fight logic and his own stubborn opinion of things.

Mrs. Potter asked Lindy one day, "What on earth do you find to do over there all the time?"

"Oh, we play and have tea and the professor teaches us." Lindy's voice was deceptively casual. "What does he teach?"

"He talks about life and stuff like that. We look through the microscope, and we go for walks and rides. It's great fun."

Mrs. Potter changed the subject. "You know, Daddy and I are going to see Grandma on Saturday. We'd love to take you with us, especially since it's your midterm holiday next week. But Grandma just isn't well enough. We'll be back a week from Sunday. In the meantime I've arranged for Ethel to stay with you."

"What if the professor asks us out?" Lindy wanted to know.

"That's all right. I'll tell Ethel that you'll probably be spending a great deal of time with him. Then she won't worry about you."

When the children visited the professor the next day, Lindy told him about her parents' plans.

He looked thoughtful. Then he made a startling announcement.

"I think that the time has come to start a new phase of your lessons. I think you are ready to try the sympathetic hats."

"Sympathetic hats?" said Tom.

"Actually, I call them scrappy caps," said the professor with a smile. "A scrappy cap is a covering worn on the head, which is sympathetic to the brain's impulses and desires."

"Do they have some special power or something?" asked Ben.

"I would say that there is something very magical about scrappy caps," replied the professor. "Let me show them to you."

He left the children and a moment later returned carrying three brightly colored objects.

"These hats are your passports to success. In spite of all our hard work, I doubt that you'd come close to seeing the Whangdoodle unless you were wearing one of these. Once we begin the great adventure, you may not—indeed you
must
not—ever remove them from your heads. Not only will they help us to get to Whangdoodleland, but more importantly, without them, we will not be able to find our way home."

The professor held up an exquisite bonnet made of white lace and linen and brilliant red chintz. "Lindy, this is your hat. It comes from the Netherlands. The underlining is made of the finest linen. See how the red topping is covered with meadow flowers and hens and roosters and rabbits?"

"It's lovely," said Lindy.

"Hold it carefully. But don't put it on your head," cautioned the professor.

"Tom, this is yours." He held out a bright blue felt cap that resembled a funnel with the cloth pipe pointing backwards. "It comes from Madeira. The purpose of this little pipe was to hold a sprig of rosemary which gave the wearer the benefit of its magical powers. Did you know that in ancient Greece students wore rosemary twined in their hair while studying for their examinations? It is supposed to strengthen memory, and is thought to bring success to any undertaking."

Tom took the hat and held it carefully.

The professor handed Ben an Indian headband with a small tassel hanging from it. "Ben, yours comes from Guatemala. It was made by the Mayas. They were highly skilled people who were able to record history by means of picture writing. You can see some on this band. Notice how it is actually one long piece which has been wound around thirteen times, and that the coils have been sewn together to keep the shape. Thirteen was considered a magic number."

The professor looked at the children and smiled. "You will discover that your sympathetic hats make all the difference. Once they are upon your heads
you will experience a great feeling of exhilaration. Tomorrow we will begin to practice wearing them."

Lindy walked eagerly home from school the next day, happily contemplating the midterm holiday and the time she and her brothers would spend with the professor. She was desperately eager to begin the new lessons with the scrappy caps. She had the feeling that something wonderful was going to happen. She began to sing:

I've got a pretty hat

To wear upon my head,

And it is filled with magic,

Or so the professor said.

She skipped around a lamppost and ran full tilt into someone who was leaning against it. Her books went flying in all directions.

"Oops, I'm so sorry." Lindy was very startled. "Hello, little girl," said a distinctly unusual voice. Lindy looked up.

The stranger smiled and lifted his hat in greeting. "You dropped your books. Allow me."

Lindy watched as the man bent from the waist and scooped up her books with his extraordinarily long arms.

"Clumsy of me," he said. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

The sound of his voice reminded her of wind whistling through a long tunnel.

"May I walk with you a little way and carry your books?" he asked.

Lindy remembered her parents' warning never to speak with strangers. "Well, I—"

"You're Melinda Potter, aren't you?"

She was completely taken by surprise.

"Yes, I am."

"The professor is a good friend of mine."

"You mean Professor Savant?" Lindy experienced a wave of relief.

"The very same. We have spent many pleasant evenings together. He talks of you so much."

The stranger pulled a golden Yo-Yo from his pocket and executed a quick trick with it.

Lindy fell into step beside him as he began to walk. "How are things coming along with your trip to Whangdoodleland?" he asked casually.

Her jaw dropped. "You know about that?
"

"Good heavens, yes. I've known about it for
some time
. The profes
sor and I often chat about it."

"Oh." She was surprised that someone else knew
of their plans. The g
olden Yo-Yo flashed in the sun
light and made a soft humming sound. She glanced up at the odd-looking stranger.

"I expect you'll be making a move before long?" he said.

"To Whangdoodleland?"

"Yes."

"Er . . . well, as a matter of fact we will. We're trying the scrappy caps this afternoon."

"Scrappy caps?" He looked startled.

"Oh, I should say sympathetic hats," Lindy said and smiled. "They're very pretty." She was fascinated by the whirling, bobbing Yo-Yo. "They're going to make all the difference. It'll be the most wonderful adventure in the whole world. We'll meet the Whiffle Bird and see the Flutterbyes and lots of other creatures."

"You really think you'll get there?"

"Of course we will. The professor says we're nearly ready. It'll be any day now."

"I'm beginning to believe it." The stranger spoke in a grim voice, but Lindy was too enthusiastic to notice. She pulled him to a halt at the gate of her house.

"This is where I live
. I'm afraid I have to go now."

"Well, we'll be seeing each other again, I'm sure." He bowed and shook her hand.

Lindy had the impression that she was holding a piece of wet seaweed.

"Take care, little girl. I would hate to see anything happen to you."

"I will. Goodbye."

Lindy took her books and walked to the front door of her house. She turned around to wave politely, but to her surprise her escort had vanished. The street was completely empty.

TWO

It was four o'clock when the children arrived at the professor's house.

"I met a friend of yours this afternoon," Lindy said.

"A friend of mine?" The professor seemed preoccupied and a trifle nervous as he ushered the children into the garden.

"You know, the funny thin man. He didn't tell me his name. But he said you were very good friends and that you spent many evenings together."

The professor stopped and looked sharply at Lindy. Then he said quietly, "Tell me exactly what he looked like."

"Oh, sort of long and wobbly-looking. Kind of sharp at the elb
ows. He has a funny voice too."

"You say you met him this afternoon?"

"Yes. He walked home from school with me. He knew all about Whangdoodleland and everything."

"Good Lord," said the professor. "Good Lord."

“
What's the matter?" asked Lindy. "You do know
him, don't you?"

"I certainly do." He seemed a little stunned and passed a hand across his brow. "Did you talk about the hats this afternoon? Did you tell him we were nearly ready?"

"Yes," she said, beginning to feel anxious. "Wasn't that all right? If he's a friend of yours . . ."

The professor put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "Do you realize you were talking with the Prock?"

The boys looked startled and Lindy's heart gave a big jump.

'Who's the Prock?" she whispered.

"He's one of the most important creatures in Whangdoodleland. He's like a prime minister. Besides helping the Whangdoodle run the country, his job is to maintain the safety of the place. The 'oily' Prock, as he's sometimes called, does everything he can to stop anyone from gaining entry and getting close to the Whangdoodle."

"But why did he come and see me?" asked Lindy.

"To find out all he could about our trip. Since you are the youngest, Lindy, he knew you'd be the most unsuspecting. Dear me, this puts a whole new complexion on things. We had better have a talk."

The professor led the way to the summerhouse and the children sat down and waited for him to speak. He paced up and down for a while. Finally, he turned to face them.

"Look, this is the situation. The Prock has found out that we are almost ready to leave for Whangdoodleland. He is a very clever fellow and I have no doubt that he will do everything he can to stop us. I had hoped we would be able to get a head start without his knowing about it, but I underestimated him. So, we have to make a decision. Knowing that he is waiting for us, are we going to attempt our journey or aren't we?"

"Let's go anyway," Ben said instantly.

"Me too," Tom agreed. "I'm not afraid of a dumb old Prock, even if he is a prime minister."

The professor looked at Lindy. "How do you feel, darling?"

She hesitated and then asked in a small voice, "Can he hurt us?"

The professor thought about it. "He can do a great deal to frighten us."

"He didn't seem frightening when I met him," Lindy reasoned.

"Then let's go," said Tom eagerly.

"Come on, Lindy," Ben said. "Look how brave you were on Halloween."

Lindy clenched her hands tightly. "Okay. It would be a shame to waste all our hard work."

The professor smiled approvingly. "Then we are unanimous. There remains only one thing to be said. Stay close to me and do as I say! No matter what happens, you must obey me. Is that understood?"

The children nodded.

"All right then. Put on the scrappy caps."

"How come you don't wear one?" asked Tom.

"I've been studying Whangdoodleland for a long time. After years of practice I am able to go without a hat."

The professor helped Lindy tie her bonnet under her chin. He placed the blue felt cap on Tom's head and straightened it. Ben put on his headband and the professor adjusted the tassel so that it hung correctly.

"Now," he said, "I want you to remain seated and be very still. Do not be surprised if you feel just a little dizzy or if there is a buzzing in your head. The caps are powerful, but they will not harm you."

The children did as they were told. Lindy felt
lightheaded. It was the feeling she had experienced before. She was acutely aware of the garden and the summerhouse and the professor standing close by.

Tom was so excited that he gripped the sides of his chair until his knuckles showed white.

Ben tried to shut out the distracting thoughts that were threatening his concentration. He was trembling and hoped he would not let the others down at this crucial moment.

The professor spoke quietly. "Relax. Be calm. Allow the power of the magic hats to flow into you. Listen to the sounds. Feel the fresh air. Look at the garden and imprint the scene upon your memory. Very slowly close your eyes and remain aware of it all—just as we have always practiced."

The children had the odd sensation that the world was beginning to spin and tumble around them. The professor's voice continued. "Feel your minds opening, floating. Remember where we are going. Reach out for it. Reach. It's there. Right there. Open your eyes now, and look. Look, dear children, and you will see that it is time we were on our way."

Ben, Lindy and Tom became aware of the most incredible light. It surrounded them. It was dazzlingly bright and for a moment it was hard to see anything at all.

But as their eyes adjusted to the brilliance, they saw that the garden hedge in front of them was spinning around like a pinwheel on the Fourth of July. There was the sound of a rushing wind and they felt themselves being pulled forward as if by unseen hands.

The professor was smiling and nodding his head and beckoning. "Come along, come along."

Their vision gradually focused and then, quite suddenly, everything became crystal clear. In front of them the hedge had twisted into a long mossy tunnel. The children knew that at the other end of it lay the most wonderful of all surprises.

"Come on!" Lindy got up from her chair and raced towards the opening.

Tom yelled, "We did it! We did it!" He leaped into the air with excitement and ran after his sister.

Ben remained where he was for one uncertain moment. He was still dizzy, and blinked as he tried to see the tunnel. The professor moved to take his hand. "Come on, Ben," he said gently, "we mustn't keep the others waiting."

Lindy turned and cried out, "Oh, Ben, come and look! Just come and see what I see."

Ben took a hesitant step forward and then gradually began to walk, faster and faster until he broke into a run. He emerged from the tunnel a moment behind Tom and Lindy.

It seemed that the world was full of flowers, brilliant flowers that were orange and blue and yellow and white. They were waving slowly on long stalks like tall grass in the wind. There were shady trees and a river close by, making a soft, singing sound as it flowed. But, astonishingly, the trees were purple and the river was golden and the sky above was a bright translucent red.

There were pale pink mountains in the far distance, and high atop the tallest one was something that sparkled and shone like sunlight dancing on the water.

Lindy was tugging at the professor's sleeve. "Look. Oh look. Look. What is that? That thing up there? That shining, lovely thing?"

"That's where the Whangdoodle lives." The professor gazed at the mountain and for a moment he seemed overwhelmed.

"You mean that's the Whangdoodle's palace?" Tom's voice rose with excitement.

The professor nodded.

"Can we go there right now?" Lindy asked. "Can we go and find him?"

"Oh, it isn't as easy as that. We will have many, many things to learn and to overcome before we can reach the palace. Today is just a beginning."

"But we made it!" yelled Tom. "We're really here!"

Ben said, with some awe, "I did it. I never thought I could."

"I'm very proud of you," the professor said. "Shall we explore a little? Just remember my warning. Stay close and do as I say."

He set off along a small path that led to the melodious Golden River. Lindy walked beside him and took his hand. The boys followed.

"The Whiffle Bird should be along fairly soon," declared the professor. "She's insatiably curious. She's bound to know we're here."

Lindy said, "It's awfully quiet, isn't it? I mean, there aren't any birds singing or anything. All I can hear is the river."

The professor looked anxiously around. "I'd noticed that too, Lindy. It is unusual."

Lindy sniffed the ai
r. "I smell fresh-baked bread."

"It's the flowers," replied the professor.

"You're kidding. Can I pick one and see?"

"No, I wouldn't pick one, Lindy. It would only die and Whangdoodleland is a place for living things. But you can certainly smell the flowers."

Lindy bent and put her face close to a bright yellow bloom that was growing beside the path. "It does smell of baked bread," she said. "Do all the flowers smell like that?"

"You'll see."

"Look at the signpost!" Tom said. He pointed to a post standing at a fork in the path. Its four arms were decorated with elaborate signs.

"Ploy. Gambit. The Stump. The River,"
Ben read aloud. "What does it mean?"

"They are some of the places we will have to pass in order to reach the Whangdoodle," replied the professor.

As they walked, the sound of the water grew louder. Soon the children were standing by the edge of the river.

"Where does it go?" asked Lindy.

"I think it flows through the Forest of the Tree Squeaks. But after that I don't know."

"Tree Squeaks?"

"Rather nasty little creatures, Ben. I hope we can avoid them."

"Are they dangerous?" Lindy quickly asked. "I've never met them, Lindy. But I've heard they're terrible tattletales."

Tom said, "Why does the river make that sweet singing noise?"

"If you think that's unusual, put your hand in the water and stir it around," said the professor.

Tom knelt at the river's edge and splashed with his hand. The movement made the river change its gentle tune to a series of thrilling, 'rippling sounds.

The professor bent and picked up a stone. "Here, Lindy, throw this. See what happens."

She hurled the stone as far as she could. It landed in the water with a splash and chords of music rang in the air for several seconds.

Ben said, "That's incredible. I don't understand why that should happen."

"Why not?" replied the professor. "I told you not to expect anything ordinary in Whangdoodleland." He shielded his eyes. "Look, children," he cried excitedly. "The Whiffle Bird is coming."

In the distant sky something was rolling and tumbling and soaring and dipping in a most peculiar manner.

The professor chuckled. "She never could fly properly. I don't know how she manages at all. She has so many feathers, you see. She's totally uncoordinated."

The children watched as the Whiffle Bird approached. Her long, fluffy feathers were being blown about in all directions. It was impossible to see a head or a tail or even feet in the feathery profusion.

The Whiffle Bird made a stumbling and very undignified landing onto the branch of a nearby tree and proceeded to shake and shuffle herself into some kind of order. It was not until she settled down that the children were able to see how truly beautiful she
was. Her plumage was a brilliant rainbow of colors—red, pink, yellow, orange and purple. She was a silky bird, rustling and smooth, and she gave out a delicate perfume that reminded the children of orange blossoms on a summer evening.

"Greetings, my dear Whiffle Bird," said the professor. "It is a great pleasure to see you again. Won't you come down and join us? I would like to introduce you to my friends."

The bird jumped a foot into the air as he spoke, and every feather flew up and got tangled and had to be rearranged all over again. She retreated along the branch making odd little humming sounds.

The professor stepped forward. "You're looking very pretty," he said. "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you look so lovely. Dear Whiffle Bird. Sweet Whiffle Bird. Won't you come down and say hello?"

The Whiffle Bird gave a few startled squeaks and turned around and around on the branch. It was impossible for the children to tell which end of her was which.

Quite suddenly she leaned forward, or perhaps it was backward, and somersaulted out of the tree and down to the ground, landing just in front of the professor.

"That's very gracious of you," the professor said, kneeling beside her. "The children and I are so glad
you came by." He held out his hand to Lindy. "May I introduce Miss Melinda Potter."

Lindy knelt beside the professor. "Hello, Whiffle Bird. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen."

The Whiffle Bird began her humming sounds again.

"These young gentlemen are Benjamin and Thomas Potter."

"How do you do," Ben said courteously.

Tom felt a trifle embarrassed and said in a gruff voice, "Hello, bird."

All of a sudden the children noticed two tiny birdlike hands coming through the beautiful feathers. As
if holding a curtain to one side the hands parted the waving plumage and they saw two jet-black beady eyes peering out at them.

Lindy cried, "Oh, professor, how sweet she is. I wish there were something I could give her. What does she like to eat?"

"Just feed her compliments and she'll be perfectly happy."

Tom said dryly, "In that case she's probably full up already."

The Whiffle Bird suddenly flew into the air and landed on Tom's shoulder. He was taken completely by surprise.

"Here, get off
!
" he said in a startled voice.

The professor grinned. "She likes you, Tom. That's a great compliment."

Tom was embarrassed. "Listen, I like her too. But she's got to get down." He looked at the bird, now only inches away from his face. The tiny hands appeared again and the button eyes stared at him without blinking.

The professor and the children doubled up with laughter. "Once she takes a fancy to someone, Tom, she never changes her mind. You're stuck with her, I'm afraid."

Before Tom could protest further, a dreadful, dry rattling sound came from somewhere across the fields of waving flowers. The Whiffle Bird stiffened and then flew into the air. "MAYDAY!" she shrieked in an incredibly shrill voice.

"What does she mean?" gasped Lindy.

" 'Mayday' is the recognized international call for help," said the professor grimly. "I fear we are in for a surprise."

The horrible sound came again, but closer this time. "Tom, climb the tree and tell me if you can see anything," commanded the professor.

The boy did as he was told. "There's a big cloud of dust out there and it's moving!" he yelled. "It's coming our way!"

Lindy took hold of the professor's hand and held it tightly. "I think I'm going to be frightened," she said.

"Lindy, you must try hard not to be, because that is exactly what the Prock would want. This is his work, I know it."

"I can see something now," cried Tom. "Hundreds of strange-looking animals."

"What do they look like?"

"Weird. Like huge anteaters. No, more like cannons, but instead of wheels they have five legs in a circle on either side."

"Sidewinders," declared the professor. "That devil has sent the Sidewinders to drive us away."

"What are they?" asked Ben in consternation. "They're the Whangdoodle's private guard. I've
never seen them, but they have a nasty reputation." Ben cried, "There they are, Professor! Look!"

In the distance a company of extraordinary creatures was marching towards them. They did look like cannons. Their long, funnel-like noses were held rigidly in the air at a forty-five-degree angle. They moved with a rolling, thrashing gait, their five legs churning at either side of their mud-brown bodies. The noise they made was constant now and terrifying.

Tom scurried down from the tree. The professor put his arms about the children.

The Whiffle Bird shrieked at the top of her voice, "STAND AND DELIVER!" Then she flapped away in a panic-stricken fashion up the river.

The Sidewinders were so close now that their staring eyes and slobbering mouths could be clearly seen. Above the roar, percussive music began. The moving sea of creatures shifted and bunched together. As their bodies touched, bright sparks flew in all directions and they began to glow, first green, then red, then green again, and blue.

Lindy could stand it no longer. "Professor," she cried, "I can't look at them. I want to go home." She began to weep and her thumb went into her mouth.

"We shall, Lindy. We shall. You don't have to look, but you must not move. It is imperative that we obey the Whiffle Bird and stand our ground."

The Sidewinders were almost on top of them. They could see the warts on the creatures' sandpaper skin. Their long trunks towered above their heads and their hot breath singed the leaves off the purple tree. The earth shook from the marching of so many hundreds of feet.

Lindy screamed.

Just as it seemed that the professor and the children must be trampled to death, there was a mighty crash of cymbals and the entire army turned and headed towards the river. Ben cried out with relief, "They turned. How come they turned?"

"They were only sent to frighten us," shouted the professor.

Lindy opened her eyes.

Tom suddenly grew very daring. He took a step forward and glared at a passing Sidewinder. "Boo!" he yelled.

The creature looked extremely startled and backed into a Sidewinder behind it. This started a chain reaction and, all of a sudden, chaos reigned. Sidewinders went tumbling and falling all over each other in their efforts to get out of the way. The music ran down like an old record. The drums stopped and the creatures piled one on top of the other as they reached the river's edge. They fell with colossal splashes into the golden swirling water and there were terrible discordant sounds as they gurgled and gulped and gasped.

The professor said firmly,
"Now,
children, is the time to move. Run home as fast as you can."

The boys needed no second bidding. Grabbing Lindy by the hand, they raced with her along the path they had traveled earlier. The professor, showing surprising agility for one of his age, kept up with them all the way. In no time at all they burst through the hedge into his garden and safety.