Freddy Goes to Florida Page 6

“Look! Look!” squealed Freddy. “There’s a palm-tree!”

  “It’s Florida!” shouted Jinx.

  And all the animals shouted together: “Florida!” so that they could be heard for miles, and Alice and Emma hopped about and quacked and flapped their wings, and Charles crowed, and the dogs barked, and Mrs. Wiggins mooed, and Hank, the old, white horse, danced round like a young colt until his legs got all tangled up and he fell down and everybody laughed. Even the spiders raced round and round the web they had spun between Mrs. Wiggins’s horns, and the mice capered and pranced.

  “So this is Florida!” said Mrs. Wiggins. “Well. well!”

  Then they started down the slope into Florida. And as they went, Freddy made up a song:

  The weather grew torrider and torrider,

  And the orange-blossoms smelt horrider and horrider,

  As we marched down into Florida.

  “But the orange-blossoms don’t smell horrid,” said Robert.

  “I know it,” said Freddy. “But there isn’t any other word that rhymes.”

  “Well, make up another song, then,” said Robert.

  So Freddy sang:

  Oh, the winding road to Florida

  Is a dusty road, and long,

  But we animals gay have cheered the way

  With many a merry song.

  Our hearts were bold—but our homes were cold.

  And that is why we’ve come

  To Florida, to Florida,

  From our far-off northern home.

  In Florida, in Florida,

  Where the orange-blossom blows,

  Where the alligator sings so sweet,

  And the sweet-potato grows;

  Oh, that is the place where I would be,

  And that is where I am—

  In Florida, in Florida,

  As happy as a clam.

  They all liked this song much better, and as they went along they sang lustily. They were so glad to have reached Florida at last that they forgot all about stopping to rest at noon, and they marched on until nearly three o’clock. Then Mrs. Wiggins sank down under a tree beside the road.

  “I can’t go another step!” she said. “I’m in a dripping perspiration. Charles, I’d take it kindly if you’d fan me with your wing for a few minutes.”

  So they all sat down and Charles very kindly fanned Mrs. Wiggins until she had cooled off. And as they were all pretty tired and hot, they decided to camp there that night and think about what they were going to do in Florida. And then in the morning they could go and begin doing it.

  So they camped under the orange-trees and discussed all the things they could do, and at last they decided to go to the sea-shore, as Freddy said he understood the sea-bathing was very fine there.

  “But how can we find the sea-shore?” asked Robert. “You ought to have had that robin draw it on the map.”

  Freddy said it would be easy to find because Florida was a peninsula.

  “What’s a peninsula?” asked Jack, and Henrietta said: “Oh, don’t ask him! He’s just trying to show off.”

  But Freddy said: “A peninsula is a piece of land that is almost surrounded by water. That means that if you walk far enough in any direction but one, you will come to the ocean.”

  “Yes,” said Robert, “but how do we know which direction is the one we ought not to walk in?”

  “Why, the direction we came from, stupid,” said Freddy. And he drew a little map on the ground and showed the animals what he meant.

  So the next morning they started out to find the ocean. They travelled for four days before they saw it, away off in the distance, glittering and sparkling in the sunlight, and it was still another day before they came down to a broad beach of yellow sand and saw the great sheet of water stretching away before them for miles and miles. They just stood and looked at it for a long time, for none of them had ever seen anything like it before. And they rushed down the beach and swam out into the water.

  So for a month they lived by the side of the ocean and rested from their long journey. They found an old barn not very far from the shore, and they cleaned it up and all lived there together happily. Every day at four o’clock they went in for a dip in the surf, and then they would lie round on the sand and talk until supper-time. It was a very lazy and pleasant life that they lived in Florida.

  But after a while they got tired of doing nothing and began to long for new adventures. “Besides, we ought to travel round and see the country,” said Charles. “When we get home, and everybody asks us what Florida is like, we want to be able to tell them.”

  So they said good-bye to the sea-shore, and to the horseshoe crabs and jelly-fish, who had made things so pleasant for them during their stay, and set out for a tour of the state.

  XII

  During the next two months they visited all the principal points of interest in Florida, and saw all there was to see. They visited Palm Beach and the Everglades and Miami and the Big Cypress Swamp. And it was on the way across a corner of the swamp that they had a very exciting adventure.

  It happened this way. When they first came to the swamp, most of the animals were afraid and did not want to go into it at all, for it stretched for miles and miles, and there were no roads or paths, and there was no firm ground to walk on, only water and mud and the great twisted, gnarly cypress roots. It was dark, too, because the trees grew so thick.

  But Jinx said: “Oh, come on! Let’s see what it’s like. We don’t have to go very far in. What are you afraid of?”

  And so they started in.

  At first it wasn’t very hard walking, but soon the mud and water got deeper and the trees thicker together. And after a while longer there wasn’t anything to walk on at all—only water and trees.

  “I’m going back,” said Mrs. Wiggins. And the other animals said they were too. Even Jinx agreed they couldn’t go any farther.

  But when they started to go back, they found that they hadn’t the slightest idea which way to go. They had turned and twisted in and out among the trees so many times that they didn’t know from which direction they had come. The water covered their footprints so they couldn’t follow them. And over their heads the branches were so thick that they couldn’t see the sun.

  “Now we are in a mess!” said Henrietta, who had been riding on Hank’s back. “I hope you’re satisfied, Jinx!”

  “It won’t help any to call names,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “Come along, let’s try this direction. One way is as good as another, and this looks as if it might be right.”

  And so they went on, with Mrs. Wiggins in the lead. It was very dark and dismal. The water was black, and long beards of grey moss hung down from the branches of the trees. Again and again they had to swim, and the animals who could not swim climbed on the larger animals’ backs.

  At last it did seem as if they were coming out on dry land. Ahead of them they could see sunlight through the tree trunks, and they floundered and stumbled onward as fast as they could go. In a few minutes they came out on the bank of what seemed to be a small canal, and beyond the canal was a grassy meadow, green and pleasant in the bright sun.

  “Well, this certainly isn’t the way we came,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “But, my word! that grass looks good! I guess we could get away with a few mouthfuls of that, eh, Hank? Come along, animals, let’s swim over. It’s something to stand on, at any rate.”

  “Look out! Don’t bump your noses on those logs,” said Jinx, pointing with one claw to what looked like a lot of tree trunks, lying half under water in the middle of the canal.

  So they all swam over. But as they were climbing out on the farther bank, Henrietta began to cackle excitedly. “Look! Look! The logs are all coming to life!”

  And sure enough, what they had thought were logs had suddenly started swimming after them. They were alligators!

  “I certainly do not like this place!” said Mrs. Wiggins. But like most cows, she had a stout heart, and she turned round and lowered her horns and shook them
threateningly at the alligators. “Keep away, now!” she said. “We won’t stand any nonsense!”

  But the alligators only laughed, and one of them said: “Oho! You won’t, eh? Well, what did you come into our country for, then?”

  “We’re peaceable animals,” said Mrs. Wiggins, “and all we ask is to be shown the shortest way out of your country. We are lost, and we shall be very much obliged to you if you will help us find ourselves again. But if you won’t help us, we shall have to go on and find our own way out.”

  Then all the alligators laughed so hard that two of them choked, and their friends had to whack them on the backs with their tails. And they said: “Do you know where you are? You are on an island in the middle of the alligator country. You can’t get away. And to-night we alligators are going to have you for supper.”

  The animals saw now that they were indeed in a bad fix. “This is even worse than being fricasseed,” said Charles.

  But Freddy, the clever pig, had an idea. And although he was very much scared, he said to the alligators: “Gentlemen, you will make a very great mistake if you eat us. We are not ordinary animals. We are the first animals in the world who ever migrated. We have come from far in the north; thousands of miles we have travelled, to visit your beautiful country, and to take back word of its loveliness to our people. Surely you would not be so inhospitable as to eat us for supper.”

  “He speaks very nicely,” said one of the alligators, “but I am sure he would taste even better. He is so round and plump!”

  But another one said: “There may be something in what you say, pig. We will take you to the Grandfather of All the Alligators, and you may tell him what you have told us. And perhaps he will let you go. And perhaps he will eat you for supper just the same. But that is for him to decide.”

  And so he led them across the island to where the water and the swamp began again on the other side. And he stood on the bank and called: “Oh, Grandfather of All the Alligators, there be strangers here who would have speech with thee.”

  Nothing happened for some time, and then there was a bubbling and a boiling of the water, and a huge head, as big as a barrel, appeared, and after the head a body as long as Mrs. Wiggins and Hank and Jack and Robert and Freddy together. It was the Grandfather of All the Alligators, and he was so old that there was green moss growing all over him.

  He opened one wise old eye, and his deep grumbling voice said sleepily: “What do they want?”

  “They don’t want to be eaten for supper,” said the other alligator.

  “Eat them for lunch, then,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators, and began to sink out of sight again.

  But Freddy rushed down to the edge of the water and shouted: “Oh, Grandfather of All the Alligators, we are strangers in your beautiful country and we have come thousands of miles to visit you and tell you of our own land, of which you have never heard.”

  The Grandfather of All the Alligators opened both eyes and stopped sinking.

  “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” he asked. “That alters the case entirely. I hear very little news of the great world in this quiet spot. By all means tell me of your home.”

  “Oh, Grandfather of All the—” Freddy began.

  But the Grandfather of All the Alligators stopped him. “It will be better,” he said, “if you call me simply grandfather.” And he closed his eyes and sank till everything but his ears was under water, and prepared to listen.

  Then Freddy told of the life they had lived up north on Mr. Bean’s farm, and of how cold it was in winter, and of their trip to the South. Every time he stopped for breath, the alligators, who were sitting around him in a circle, would say: “Yes, yes; go on!” And Freddy went on until he was tired, and then Jinx took up the story until he was tired, and then Charles went on with it. And by the time Charles had finished, and they had told everything they could think of, it was almost sunset.

  Then the Grandfather of All the Alligators came up to the top of the water again and opened his eyes and said: “I thank you for telling us of your wonderful country. It has been very interesting. And now, as it is almost supper-time, we will go on with the feast. I am sure you will all taste very much better for the entertainment you have given us.”

  At this the animals were very much alarmed. “You don’t mean to say you meant to eat us all the time!” they cried.

  “Why, of course,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators. “Nothing was ever said about our not eating you, was there?”

  This made the animals very angry, and Jinx was so mad that he almost had a fit. “You mean to say,” he screamed, “that you’ve gone and let us talk ourselves hoarse for nothing, you great big, muddy, long-nosed, leather-skinned hippopotamus, you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What do you suppose all the animals up north are going to think of you when they hear about it? Eating up visitors who come to make you a friendly call! A nice opinion they’ll get of Florida!”

  “My goodness, I should say so!” exclaimed Mrs. Wiggins. “And the President of the United States, too. He shook hands with us and wished us a pleasant journey. What’ll he say?”

  “He’ll send his army down here and drive all you alligators into the ocean; that’s what he’ll do!” said Jinx.

  The Grandfather of All the Alligators smiled, and his smile was eight feet broad. “What you say may be so,” he remarked. “But—who’s going to tell him? Answer me that. Who’s going to tell him? You, madam?” he asked Mrs. Wiggins. “No-o-o, I think not. You’ll be eaten up, horns, hoofs and tail. And so——”

  But Henrietta interrupted. “We’re going to tell him,” she said. “My husband and I. You may eat the animals, but you can’t eat us, because you can’t catch us. We can fly.”

  “My dear,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators, “I am more than eight hundred years old. I was centuries old when Ponce de Leon came to Florida to look for the Fountain of Youth. I remember Balboa well—a tall man with a black beard and a shiny steel hat. He made the same mistake you did, my friends—he mistook me for a log. But he was more fortunate than you. He got away with merely the loss of one of his boots.” The Grandfather of All the Alligators smiled at the memory. “A delicious boot that was, too—old Spanish leather. I chewed on it for half a day.

  “Yes, as I was saying, I am very old. Yet in all my eight hundred years I have never seen or heard of a hen or a rooster who could fly like other birds.”

  Now it is true that hens and roosters cannot fly as well as most birds, but they don’t like to be reminded of it. Henrietta became very angry.

  “Is that so!” she exclaimed. “Well, if you’ve kept your eyes shut for eight hundred years, it’s no wonder you don’t know anything! Never saw a rooster who could fly, eh? Well, you’re going to see one now. Charles,” she said to her husband, “fly up in those trees on the other side of the water.”

  Now the trees were quite a long way off, and Charles had never in his life flown farther than from the ground to the top of a fence. “Good gracious, Henrietta,” he whispered, “I can’t fly up there. I won’t be able to go half that distance, and I’ll drop into the water and the alligators will eat me.”

  “They’ll certainly eat you if you don’t fly up there,” she whispered back. “You’ve got to do it. It’s our one chance of escaping. If they think you will go back and tell the President, they will let us go.”

  “Well, I’ll try it,” said Charles. So he kissed Henrietta good-bye and squared his shoulders and flapped his wings and started, while all the animals cheered, and the alligators giggled and poked each other in the ribs with their elbows.

  Charles flew up into the air—up, up, higher than he had ever been before, as high as the tops of the trees. And then he started across the water.

  Down below, the animals held their breath as they watched him. They saw him flapping his wings so hard that feathers flew out of them and floated downward. But he could not get any higher; he was coming slowly down
toward the water, and two of the alligators plunged in and swam out to be under him when he came down.

  “He’ll never make it,” said Mrs. Wiggins sadly. “Never in the world!”

  But suddenly they saw him stop moving his wings. He spread them out and held them motionless, and then, to the amazement of all the onlookers, he went straight across the water—faster, faster, and landed with a flutter in the trees.

  What had happened was this. There was a strong wind blowing across the swamp, but the island, shut in by walls of high trees, was like a room, and the wind did not come down there at all. It was this wind that had caught Charles and blown him safely across, but of course none of the onlookers knew this, and they thought that he had done it himself.

  Then all the animals set up a great cheer, and the alligators had nothing to say at all, and the Grandfather of All the Alligators opened his eyes wider than he had opened them in six hundred years and exclaimed: “Well, upon my word! I never should have believed it! Never!”

  But Henrietta said: “Now what are you going to do about eating us?”

  “Why, that was all a joke, my dear,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators. “We alligators will have our little joke, you know. Do tell your accomplished husband to come back, so that we can thank him for this fine exhibition, and then he will show you the way out of the swamp, and part in peace and goodwill.”

  “We alligators will have our little joke, you know.”

  “Oh yes, you old fraud!” said Henrietta. “Ask him to come back so you can eat him? No, Charles will stay right where he is, in the top of that tree.”

  “Your suspicions are most unjust,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators with a sigh. “We wouldn’t harm him for worlds. We respect and admire him greatly. However, I see you are anxious to be gone, and it is indeed getting late. My children,” he said to the other alligators, “show these animals safely to the edge of the swamp, and see that no harm comes to them. Good-bye, my friends. I thank you one and all for your entertainment. I am sorry that you took our little joke in earnest. However, that is past now. No hard feelings, I trust?”