The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (9 page)

SEVEN

The professor and the boys were standing in the middle of the Blandlands plain. The waving sea of brightly colored flowers stretched ahead for miles and miles. In the distance the Whangdoodle's palace sparkled in the early-morning sunlight.

The professor leaned on his umbrella and said, "Now this is the way I see it. The Prock said the High-Behind Splintercat took Lindy away. What would he do with her? Where would he put her for safety? He wouldn't take her to the palace because the whole point is to keep us
away
from the palace. My hunch is—Lindy is still with the Splintercat."

"But how do we find the Splintercat?" asked Ben.

"I only know he lives in the mountains," replied the professor, "but it could be those mountains, or
those mountains, or those." He pointed north, east and west.

Ben's heart sank. "Oh, gosh. She could be anywhere. It's going to take
ages
to find her."

"Perhaps not. Let's use our heads and work this out. The Splintercat is probably just like any other mountain cat. He would need a rocky terrain, with trees—perhaps a cave or two. Those mountains to the west have a forest, but it looks a bit dense. Too dark and gloomy for a Splintercat."

"Those mountains are open and grassy," said Ben, pointing north.

"Right. So I'll bet that the Splintercat's lair is in the east, somewhere beyond Ploy. Probably in the Gambit region. That's perfect cat territory. Come on, boys. We've got a long way to go!"

They walked for what seemed like hours. They grew hot and thirsty and it was a relief to hear a soft singing sound that told them they were near a stretch of the Golden River. The boys ran to it and drank their fill of the cool refreshing water.

"Can you two swim?" the professor asked suddenly. "It occurs to me that we could reach the mountains faster if we crossed the river."

"Let's do it," said Ben enthusiastically.

They took off their clothes and rolled them with their shoes into tight bundles. They waded into the water and swam slowly across the river, holding the bundles above their heads. It was a fascinating swim. At every stroke, the water changed its tune, making sweet music.

Once on the other side, they dressed hurriedly. Tom looked around. "You know, it's odd that the Whiffle Bird hasn't turned up."

"It is odd," agreed the professor. "Of course, she may be watching out for Lindy."

"She may not know we're here yet," suggested Ben.

"Well, I sort of miss her company," declared Tom. "Even though she's a nuisance sometimes, it's nice having her around."

Ben noticed a movement off to his left. He pointed and whispered, "I thought I saw something."

They crouched on the ground and remained absolutely still. A group of fierce-looking creatures emerged from a break in the rocks and moved slowly in a line towards the Golden River. They were at least six or seven feet high at the shoulder, with shaggy, caramel-colored fur and enormous, curling, sharp-pointed horns.

"What are they?" gasped Thomas.

"That's a herd of Flummox." The professor's face was alight with excitement. "They're distant relatives of the great aurochs that roamed Europe thousands of years ago. We'd better give them a wide berth. They could be dangerous."

When they finally reached the foot of the mountains, they were travel-stained and weary.

Tom, trailing a few paces behind the others, noticed something small and shiny lying against a stone. "Professor!" he cried excitedly.

The professor
whirled in alarm. "Hush, Tom."

"Look. Look what I found."

The professor examined the shining object. "Why, it's a twenty-five-cent piece."

"It's the one I gave Lindy. I know it is. She said she would keep it in her pocket as a lucky piece. She must have dropped it, don't you see?"

The professor was excited, too. "This proves we're on the right track. Lindy passed this way. What a stroke of luck."

"Professor, look at
this!"
cried Ben and he knelt down to look closely at the ground. "It's a paw print. A really large one."

"It's the Splintercat's, all right," confirmed the professor. He looked up and scanned the mountain towering above them. "See that plateau? I'll bet you anything that's where he went."

"How are we going to get up there?" asked Ben. "There must be a way up somehow. Come on." At that moment a great shriek rent the air. It was
so loud and so close that the professor and the boys practically jumped out of their skins. Terrified, they flung themselves to the ground.

Tom found his voice. "What do you suppose it is?"

"Whatever it is, it's pretty big," whispered the professor. "Let's be careful."

They crawled forward. A faint mist hung just above their heads and there was a damp feeling to the air. They became aware of a heavy panting sound. Cautiously they peered around a high wall of rock, and there standing at the foot of the mountain, enveloped in clouds of steam, was the most remarkable train they had ever seen.

It was pure white and gave the impression of being made from thick, fluffy cotton wool. Yet, the rods
and wheels and couplings and the great engine itself looked strong and shone like polished steel. Written on the side of it in bold letters were the words THE BRAINSTRAIN.

The professor was staggered. "I expected wonders in this incredible land, but I never thought I'd see
anything as wonderful as that." He looked at the mountain. Silver rails went straight up the sheer rock face and disappeared into the clouds.

"If I'm not mistaken," he said, "that train goes right to the top. That, my friends, is how we're going to reach Lindy and the Splintercat."

"But what makes the train go?" queried Ben. "I don't see an engineer. I don't see anybody."

The professor scrutinized the train intently. He mumbled to himself, "Steam—hot air—brainstrain." His face suddenly brightened. "Got it!" he said triumphantly. "That thing is full of hot air. Hot air rises. That's how it goes up the mountain. That's why it doesn't need an engineer."

"How does it get down the mountain again?" asked Tom.

"I have absolutely no idea. But come on. We've got to board that train."

They started around the wall but the professor suddenly grabbed the boys and pulled them back. "Look out," he whispered tensely. "Sidewinders."

Three of the horrifying creatures were emerging from the trees. They were deep in conversation. Their trunks waved in the air and their feet crunched the gravel path as they made for the train.

The Brainstrain
gave another shriek and began to puff and blow mightily. Clouds of steam belched out of the engine and rolled towards the professor and the boys.

"Let's go," said the professor urgently and he began to run.

Under the protective cover of billowing steam the boys made a dash for it. The train was beginning to move. Ben was the fastest and he was the first to gain a foothold on the steps of the moving caboose. He turned in time to see the professor reach out and hook his umbrella onto the railing to pull himself aboard.

Tom was in the rear and to everyone's horror he suddenly stumbled and fell. The train was gathering speed and the boy's face took on a look of panic as he saw it pulling away from him.

"Come on, Tom! Come on!" the professor cried.

Tom scrambled to his feet and ran as hard as he had ever run in his whole life. His legs began to ache and a desperate sob caught in his throat.

The professor leaned out as far as he could. He handed one end of his umbrella to Tom. The boy grasped it tightly. The professor yanked hard and Tom, stumbling and lurching, was hauled aboard the train, where he lay panting and gasping with relief.

The professor pulled him to his feet. "Hold on, Tom. We're climbing fast." The boys gripped the railings and gave the professor a weak grin of thanks.

The Brainstrain
heaved and puffed its way up the face of the mountain. Higher and higher it climbed. They were nearing the plateau. Over the noise of the
engine the professor shouted, "It isn't going to stop. We'll have to jump."

Suddenly, the train leveled off and began to gather speed at an alarming rate.

"Now!"
yelled the professor and the three of them leaped from the speeding train.

They hit the earth hard, rolling over and over, tumbling and bouncing. Tom was flung into a bush and the professor disappeared.

Ben staggered to his feet, weaving unsteadily towards his brother. "You okay?" he gasped.

Tom nodded. "Where's the professor?"

"Here," came a faint reply. "Over the edge."

They rushed to the precipice. The professor's umbrella had caught on a root and he was hanging on to it for dear life and swaying gently out over the void.

The boys leaned over and grabbed him. Ben clasped his wrist and Tom caught hold of his collar. With a mighty heave they pulled him to safety.

He was deathly white and lay for several moments face down in the grass. Presently, he rolled over and gazed up at the sky. Then he looked at the boys. "Thank you both," he said simply. "That was a close call."

He sat up and looked at the mountain where, high above,
The Brainstrain
came to a halt. The Sidewind
e
rs got out. Then a remarkable thing happened. The train slowly vanished before their eyes.

"Good Lord!" The professor shook his head in disbelief. "That answers your question, Tom.
The Brainstrain
doesn't have to get down the mountain. It dissipates at the top."

"How could it do that?" asked Ben.

"Like any hot air that rises—it just dissipates. That accounts for all the clouds up there. I presume the train reassembles itself at the bottom of the mountain and when it has gathered enough hot air, it moves up once again. Fantastic."

Tom and Ben helped him to his feet. They could see that the adventure had been quite a strain for, their friend. He looked pale and not very steady. But he gazed around with interest and said, brightly enough, "Well, I wonder where we go from here."

EIGHT

When Lindy woke up, she found the Splintercat sitting beside her, washing himself.

"Goodness," she sai
d. "Did I sleep for very long?"

"Not too long," replied the cat, licking his paw. "How do you feel, Missss Lindy?"

"I feel fine. But I think I ought to be getting home.

My brothers might find out that I'm gone and be worried."

The cat sprang up. "Ah. Missss Lindy. I have a trrrremendous favor to assssk you. I wonder if you would help me with thissss." He produced a large ball of wool. "Everrrry friend that comes to visit makes a cat's crrrradle with me. I add it to my house. It'ssss like ssssigning my guesssst book."

Lindy frowned. "All right. But
please
let's hurry." She was beginning to feel a little annoyed. "What do I have to do?"

The Splintercat worked the wool quickly between his paws until it made a pattern of crossed threads.

"Now, Missss Lindy, use the finger and thumb of each hand and pick up the wool in the middle."

Lindy did as she was told and the cat transferred the threads to her hands.

"Purrfect," breathed the Splintercat. He lifted a paw to take up the wool again. Somehow, the threads slipped and Lindy found her hands bound by the brightly colored strands.

"Oh dear." The cat blinked in alarm. "It sssslipped out of my grassssp. Hold on, dear frrrriend, let me unwind you."

He turned Lindy around. "I think the wool goessss under here, and thrrrrough here."

Lindy began to feel dizzy, for the cat passed the ball of wool under her arms and around her waist and then over her hands so quickly that she hadn't time to follow his movements.

The results were disastrous, for by the time the cat had finished she was so tangled up in the wool that she couldn't move.

'What have you done?" she said in an angry voice. "I told you I wanted to go home. It's terribly late and you promised we would be back in an hour."

'Well, well, well. How goes it?" said a familiar voice and Lindy felt a chill run up her spine.

The Prock's tall frame filled the doorway.

The Splintercat cast a quick look towards Lindy. "Good heavens, Splintercat, what have you been up to?" The Prock began to laugh.

The cat chuckled.

Lindy had seen and heard enough to know that she was in terrible trouble.

She glared at the Prock. "I know what you're doing," she said, trying desperately not to cry. "You just stop all this and let me go home. The professor is going to be furious with you when he finds out."

"He already knows, my dear," the Prock replied casually "And I've told him that if he wants you back, then he must stop trying to reach the Whangdoodle. If he agrees, you may go home at once."

"What if he doesn't agree?"

"Well, that's a problem we'll just have to face when the time comes." He turned to the Splintercat. "Keep her here. I'll be in touch. I've got to push on to the palace."

"Is the Whangdoodle very upsssset?" the Splintercat asked.

"He's beside himself," replied the Prock. "He believes this is all my fault and he's keeping me twice as busy just because he's cross."

The cat shook his head sympathetically. "Don't worry, Prrrrock. It'll be over ssssoon."

"Yes. Thank goodness." The Prock raised a hand in farewell. "Goodbye, Miss Lindy. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I have no alternative."

Lindy turned her head away and didn't answer. When she looked back again, the Prock had gone.

The Splintercat stretched and yawned. "Oh, my! It'ssss going to be a long day. How about some wodge, Missss Lindy?"

"Don't you talk to me," she snapped. "You false friend. If I had my way, you'd lose all the rest of your eight lives—right now."

The Splintercat winced, but he said simply, "Jusst as you pleasssse."

He stretched back on the pillow and idly stroked the geometric pieces of wool above his head. Rippling notes of music came from the taut strings, and Lindy watched with surprise as the Splintercat played on the wall of his house as though it were a harp.

Her thoughts turned to the professor and Thomas and Benjamin. She knew how worried they must be. What would the professor do in a situation like this? Would he give in to the Prock? Or would he try to rescue her? Lindy thought that the boys would encourage such a move. But if they did try to find her, how would they know where she was?

Suddenly she had an idea. It wasn't a very good one, but it was the best she could come up with.

She began to sing a song to the Splintercat's music. The creature looked startled. But he smiled happily and, to Lindy's great relief, continued to play.

Ben, Tom and the professor had been searching for hours but there was still no sign of Lindy. Suddenly Tom noticed something on the horizon. He studied it for a moment, then he shouted, "Professor, look! It's the Whiffle Bird."

They watched as the Whiffle Bird flew straight to them and settled on Tom's shoulder. He patted the beautiful feathers and said, "I knew you'd turn up sooner or later. We're in a terrible fix, Whiffle Bird. We can't find Lindy and we simply must reach her somehow."

The bird made sympathetic noises and preened herself. At that moment an eerie sound echoed across the plateau.

It was a dreadful noise; mournful and lonely, a wailing, sobbing cry that moved up and down the scale and went echoing around the mountains.

"What on earth was that?" Ben spoke in a hushed voice.

The professor held up a hand. "Listen. There it goes again."

Tom frowned, then he said tentatively, "I may be imagining things, but I think I hear something else. Another sound underneath. Do you know what I mean, Professor?"

The professor looked at the boy sharply. "Are you sure, Tom?"

Tom listened carefully. "Yes, yes. Do you know what it is?" he cried. "It's Lindy. I can hear Lindy singing."

"Where, Tom? Where is it coming from?"

The boy strained to pick out the tiny, fragile sound from among the shifting echoes. Then, for a moment, the wailing stopped and in the silence Lindy's voice came through clearly.

"That way," Tom yelled, pointing. "That's where she is."

No one was prepared for what happened next.

The Whiffle Bird suddenly shot up into the air. "MAYDAY!" she shrieked, and then again: "MAYDAY!"

The professor looked up and saw a huge shadow coming towards them. "Look out!" he cried. Grabbing both boys, he shoved them to safety under the nearest tree. Seconds later a whirling wind, like a hurricane, flattened them all to the ground.

"What is it? What is it?" gasped Ben in panic. "Gyascutus," coughed the professor as the dust swirled about them.

The huge shadow passed overhead again and the boys caught a glimpse of a colossal wing with large ragged feathers. Black talons scraped the earth as the monster above them banked to avoid the tree, and the swirling air engulfed them again.

"Where's the Whiffle Bird?" Tom looked for her anxiously. She squawked indignantly from the branches above his head.

The professor and the boys waited a full five minutes before coming out from under the tree. To their relief the giant bird was nowhere in sight.

The professor wiped his brow with his spotted handkerchief. "Good Lord, that was close. We were lucky. Very lucky indeed."

Ben was badly shaken. "Do you think the Gyascutus saw us?"

"I doubt it. It would surely have attacked us, for it's a dumb creature that acts first and thinks later. You know, had it wanted to, it could easily have picked up that whole tree."

Tom said fervently, "Well, I sure hope we don't run into it again."

The professor scrutinized the sky and the mountains. "I think we're safe now. Let's hurry and get Lindy and ourselves out of this mess."

He set off in a westerly direction, the boys falling into step beside him. The Whiffle Bird shook herself, then flew ahead as if leading the way.

The Splintercat had been howling ever since Lindy completed her first song.

In the beginning he had played the accompaniment for her, overjoyed at the sweet music they were making together. But as the song progressed and Lindy's clear voice sang the melody to perfection, the cat's amber eyes filled with tears. He continued to play, and every once in a while drew a paw across his face and sighed deeply.

When the song was over he said, with feeling, "Oh, Missss Lindy, you ssssing sssso ssssweetly."

"Thank you. It's because you play so well," replied Lindy. Seeing that the cat was flattered, she added, "Let's do some more. This is fun."

The cat took up the accompaniment once again and Lindy put all the expression she could into her voice. The Splintercat began to blink furiously, and suddenly he could control his feelings no longer. He rolled back his head and howled. Lindy quickly realized that the howling was much louder than her voice and would carry twice as far. If the professor and the boys were anywhere in the vicinity, they would certainly hear it. She continued to sing.

"O
oooooo
h, Missss Lindy," the cat bawled. "Sssstop. I can't sssstand it. That'ssss so pretty." His back leg drummed the floor in ecstasy and his fluffy tail waved rhythmically back and forth.

"Please play something else," coaxed Lindy. "I'm having such a good time."

The Splintercat hiccoughed and wiped his nose. He began to strum another melody, but when Lindy joined in, the strain became too great and he broke down completely.

"Sssstop. Sssstop. Sssstop. Sssstop," he sobbed, and rolled on the floor, covering his head with his paws.

Lindy took a deep breath and wondered how much longer she could keep this up. She almost choked with surprise as the professor's head came into view over the threshold. He cautiously peered into the room, saw her and put a finger to his lips, then ducked out of sight.

The professor ran back to the bushes where the boys were hiding.

"She's in there, all right," he puffed excitedly. "Now the question is, how are we going to get her out?"

He had no sooner uttered the words than the Whiffle Bird, who had been sitting quietly in a nearby tree, flew to the ground, landing a foot or so from the Splintercat's pad. She squawked horribly and lay very still.

"What's the matter with her?" Tom asked anxiously.

"Hush," said the professor sharply.

The howling of the Splintercat had stopped. In the silence, the Whiffle Bird squawked again, as if in great pain.

The Splintercat's startled head popped through the strands of wool, his amber eyes red with emotion and tears. The cat looked around quickly and saw the apparently helpless Whiffle Bird lying on the ground. His ears pricked up, his eyes opened wide and then became gleaming, calculating slits. He disappeared.

"Professor," whispered Tom, "we've got to do something. The Whiffle Bird's in trouble."

"Wait, Tom. Wait." The professor laid a restraining hand on Tom's arm.

The Splintercat came out of his house, his belly pressed flat to the tree. The Whiffle Bird fluttered in panic and rolled a few feet away. She began to emit a series of agonized squeaks and gasps.

The Splintercat eased his way down the tree, ears flattened, a wicked grin on his face. Then, he pulled himself forward, one paw at a time, until he was within a few feet of the Whiffle Bird.

Ben held his breath. Tom, horror-stricken, tugged at the professor's sleeve, but the professor again signaled for the boy to wait.

The Splintercat's body tensed and his high behind began to move from side to side. With a mighty leap he sprang for the Whiffle Bird.

She rocketed into the air, evading the grasping claws by mere inches. Beautiful feathers flew in all directions. She landed a little way from the cat and dragged herself along the ground.

The cat looked surprised and pounced again. Once more the Whiffle Bird took to the air. She flapped around and around in low circles and the cat's head twisted wildly, his neck a veritable corkscrew.

The professor took a small penknife out of his pocket. "I'm going to get Lindy. Wait for me here and
don't move."

The Splintercat had been lured a considerable distance from the tree. The professor waited until the cat had his back to him and then, quickly and silently, he ran to the ladder and climbed up.

Lindy was overwhelmed with relief when she saw him. The professor quickly cut her loose. "Stay close to me and when I tell you, run as fast as you can."

As the professor and Lindy climbed down the ladder, they glimpsed the Splintercat thrashing wildly in the air and the Whiffle Bird spinning and rolling and tumbling in all directions.

While the cat struggled to recover both balance and senses, Lindy and the professor ran to the bushes where the boys were hiding. The children embraced each other silently.

"Now what do we do?" whispered Ben.

"We wait to see if the Whiffle Bird is going to be all right and then we get out of here."

By some miracle the Whiffle Bird had evaded all attempts at capture. The cat, obsessed with the desire to catch this annoying and elusive bird, made a last flying leap, jaws snapping, teeth tearing, yowling, snarling, and slashing the air with his claws.

The Whiffle Bird shot up into the air and shrieked, "GET TO THE POINT!"

The Splintercat crashed to the ground.

"Get to the point . . . the point . . . the point." The professor looked around in desperation. "That's where she means! That point up there!" He indicated a needle-sharp rock at the top of the hill. "Run, children, run for your lives!"