STORY XII

TOODLE AND NOODLE PLAY INDIAN

One day Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver gentleman of them all, came in from where he had been looking at the dam which held the water in the pond from running out. Grandpa Whackum, who was called that, you remember, because he used to whack his tail on the ground, to warn his friends of danger—Grandpa Whackum brought with him to the beaver house where Toodle and Noodle and Crackie Flat-tail lived, some long, slender pieces of wood he had picked up.

They were left over after a hole in the dam had been mended, and the hole was made by the bad skillery-scalery alligator sticking in his double-jointed tail.

"There, boys," said Grandpa Whackum to Toodle and Noodle as he tossed them the sticks, "there is something you can make bows and arrows of."

"Oh, goodie!" cried Noodle.

"And we can play Indian!" said Toodle. "That will be fun; eh, Noodle?"

"Sure," said Noodle.

"May I play?" asked Crackie, who was making a sawdust dress for her wooden doll, the same one the wolf bit in two and Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, mended, you remember.

"Pooh! Girls can't play Indian!" said Noodle. "You could be a Red-Cross nurse if you wanted to, though, and take care of us when we get shot."

"I don't want to do that," said the little beaver girl. "I want to be a real Indian myself and play with you."

"Oh, girls can't be Indians," said Toodle, and with that he and his brother, thinking no more of Crackie, began to make their bows and arrows.

To make a bow you take a stick and bend it. Then you make it fast, so it can't uncurve, by tying the two ends with a long string. That makes the string tight, and when you put an arrow on the string and stretch it and let it go suddenly, the arrow shoots a long way off.

But you must be very careful not to have sharp arrows, and not to aim them at any one—ever! Shoot at the fence. The fence doesn't mind it.

Soon Toodle and Noodle had their bows and arrows all made and they started off to find a good place to play Indian.

"We won't go to the wolf's island this time," said Toodle.

"No, indeed," agreed Noodle. "It's too dangerous. If we go anywhere let's go to a butterfly's island. A butterfly won't hurt us, even if we should gnaw down his peach tree."

So off they started in their play-boat, leaving Crackie at home as before, playing with her mended wooden doll. And the rubber doll was asleep in the bathtub, for she was very fond of soap and water. Not to eat, of course, but to float around in.

Well, Noodle and Toodle sailed on and on in their boats, hoisting their tails for sails, and soon they came to a new little island. They were sure this did not belong to the wolf, and so they decided to land on it and play Indian.

Out of the boat they got, and soon they were having a good time on the island, where a huckleberry bush grew with oranges dangling from the branches. I know that seems queer, but it was so in those days. Of course things have changed since then, and I don't suppose there are now any huckleberry bushes with oranges on, or even lemons, for that matter, but I am telling you this exactly as it happened.

Toodle and Noodle ate a few oranges and then they began to play. They took some poles and made themselves a wigwam, which is what an Indian calls a house. It has a hole in the roof for the smoke to go out, and it looks like a lot of bean poles stacked up in the garden after summer is over.

Toodle and Noodle were playing away at a great rate in their Indian wigwam, shooting arrows at other make-believe Indians in the bushes, sometimes hitting and knocking down an orange or two. And whenever they did this they would stop and eat the oranges. In this way their faces and paws got quite yellow. But the boy beavers did not mind that.

"It only makes us look more like Indians," said Noodle.

"To be sure," agreed his brother.

"Now," said Noodle after a bit, "let's both shoot our arrows at once at that big black stump over there. We'll make believe it's a bear."

Whizz went the two arrows. And then—

"Yow! Wow! Growl! Howl! Scowl!" some one yelled, and the stump rose up on its hind legs and came rushing at Toodle and Noodle. You see it wasn't a stump at all—it was really a bear.

"Oh, dear!" yelled Noodle dropping his bow and arrows. "Come on, Toodle!"

"Yes, let's jump in the water, and then the bear can't catch us!" said Toodle. For you know beavers are very swift in the water, and few animals can swim as rapidly as they.

But alas! Likewise alack-a-day! Before Toodle and Noodle could get to the water the bear had grabbed them in his hairy paws and hugged them. He didn't hug them because he loved them. Oh, no! But because he thought he was going to have a good dinner.

"Oh, yum! Yum!" growled the bear, smiling so that he showed his red tongue and white teeth. "I can see where my dinner is," said the bear.

Toodle looked around, but he could see nothing good to eat. He said so to Noodle.

"I—I guess he means—us!" exclaimed Noodle, sadly like.

"Oh, dear!" cried Toodle. "Now we are in trouble! I guess we had better not come to any islands after this."

"I'll fix you for shooting your Indian arrows at me!" growled the bear.

"We—we thought you were a stump!" said Noodle.

"Worse and worse! Calling me a stump!" cried the bear. "Now I shall certainly frizzle you in buttermilk for my lunch."

Then the bear picked up Toodle in one paw, and Noodle in the other, and off he started with them.

"Where are you taking us, if you please?" asked Noodle, politely. His mamma had taught him to be polite, even to a bear.

"I am going to take you to my den," said the bear. "Then my wife will cook my lunch for me."

So the bear took the two little beaver boys to his den, and as his wife was not at home just then, having gone down to the five and ten cent store to buy a new pair of slippers, the bear said:

"I'll just tie you two chaps to a tree until my wife gets back!"

So what did that bear do but take some strong telegraph wire and wind it around Toodle and Noodle, making them fast to a tree.

"I suppose I could tie you fast with a piece of grapevine," said the bear, "but I know you have sharp teeth, and could soon gnaw yourselves loose. But you can't bite through wire."

And Toodle and Noodle knew with sorrow that they could not, and the bear knew he could go to sleep and safely leave them tied up, which is just what he did.

Down on the ground in front of his den lay the bear, and soon he was sound asleep and snoring. Toodle and Noodle tried to break loose, but the wire was too strong.

"I—I guess this is the end of us," said Noodle sadly. "We are gone!" Toodle thought so, too, and I don't know what would have happened if Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, the kind muskrat lady, had not happened to come swimming along. She had been to market to get Uncle Wiggily something for breakfast.

As soon as Nurse Jane saw poor Noodle and Toodle tied up there she came softly out on the island, without waking the bear, and then with her tail, which is just like a rat-tail file you know, Nurse Jane easily cut and filed through that telegraph wire in a jiffy, which is very quickly indeed, and soon Toodle and Noodle were all loose, the cut ends of the wire being bent back.

"Quick now!" whispered Nurse Jane. "Let's get away before the bear wakes up, or his wife comes back!" And they did, the beaver boys and the muskrat lady swimming off under water.

So Toodle and Noodle got safely away, thanks to Nurse Jane and her file-tail, and when that bear woke up, and found his dinner all gone he was mad as hops—and there is nothing madder than them. But it served him right, I think, for being so mean, don't you?

And now we have come to the end of this story, and I guess you are glad of it. But on the page after this, if my new hat blows up on top of the flag pole, so the monkey can put his peanuts in it, I'll tell you about Noodle Flat-tail's long swim.