Read Online Lost in the Dark Unchanted Forest by John R. Erickson - Free Book Online Page B

have ate me alive, I never seen such an ungrateful, I ought to have throwed up on that cat, you just come back over here, Kitty, and I’ll show you how much damage a buzzard can do!”
    Sinister glared up at the buzzards, flicked his ears, and spit out the feathers. Then he turned back to the ledge, blinked his big cruel cat eyes one time, hunched down into a crouch, and began stalking Little Alfred.
    It was time for action. I turned to my cannibal pals. “Guys, there’s your cat. If you think you can handle . . .”
    They did, because they gave a whoop and ran right over the top of me; didn’t say, “Out of the way, dog” or “Excuse us please” or nothing, just by George knocked me down, plowed me under, and walked all over my face.
    And the wreck was on, holy smokes, you should have seen it!
    Old Sinister had pretty muchly decided that he was hot stuff, don’t you see, he being your typical sneering, arrogant, self-centered, self-important cat, only four times as bad because he was four times as big.
    Yes sir, he was pretty good at killing chickens and beating up buzzards and terrorizing pitiful little children, but let me tell you, fellers, he’d never seen the kind of tough that was heading his direction.
    Rip and Snort just happened to be the best wrecking crew on the ranch, and Sinister knew it the minute he saw them coming. He sprang up into the air, pinned his ears back, hissed, made teeth at them, and said, “REEEEEEERRR!”
    And then he sold out.
    I stood up and cheered them on:
    Kick him on the knee!
    Slug him in the gut!
    Punch him in the nose, boys.
    And kick him in the . . . on the other knee!
    Sinister tore a hole through that forest and ran for his life. Rip and Snort tore an even bigger hole through the forest, and the last we saw of my coyote pals, they were about to shorten that bobcat’s tail another two or three inches.
    I turned to Madame Moonshine. “Madame, you pulled it off. You’re wonderful.”
    â€œOh bosh! I almost ruined it all by saying bat instead of cat. You were wonderful, Hank, not me.”
    â€œMe, wonderful? Nah, it was you, Madame.”
    She raised a wing and primped at the feathers on her head. “Oh well, let’s not argue. If you insist that I’m a wonderful witchy little owl,” she turned to me with a smile, “then so be it.”
    Just then, I heard Little Alfred call my name.
    â€œMadame,” I said, “come on over to the ledge with me and let me introduce you to my pal Alfred.”
    â€œNo, I must be going. I left Timothy alone in my cave.”
    â€œWho’s Timothy?”
    â€œTimothy, my companion and bodyguard. He’s a rattlesnake. Surely you haven’t forgotten Timothy.”
    â€œOh yeah, Big Tim, the diamondback. Boy, do I remember him!”
    â€œI left him unattended, and he has a very bad habit of getting into mischief. So . . .  adieu .”
    I looked up at the gloomy sky. “No, I’d call it a rain.”
    I noticed that she rolled her eyes. “No, no, no! Not a dew. Adieu .”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œWhich means good-bye.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œSo without further adieu, good-bye.”
    â€œGood-bye, Madame. Thanks for all you did, and I hope to see you somewhere down the road.”
    â€œYou will, I know you will.”
    She hopped several times, then spread her wings and flew away into the forest.
    The rain was coming down hard now, and I headed for the cave to see my little pal.

Chapter Eleven: Notch Up Another One for Hank

    I sprinted across the clearing, jumped across the creek, and dived under the limestone ledge.
    Seeing the expression on Little Alfred’s face gave me all the reward I needed for performing amazing feats of amazing things—with a little help from Madame Moonshine, of course. I mean, the boy was just tickled to death to see me.
    When I reached the ledge I was