Read Online The Story of Freginald by Walter R. Brooks - Free Book Online

And a harsh scream drifted down from the upper air.
    â€œLeo,” exclaimed Freginald excitedly, “it’s the eagle! It’s old Baldy.”
    â€œYes,” said the lion. “I knew the chief wouldn’t send the pigeons out alone. You watch now. You’ll see something.”
    The hawks had seen the eagle now and had abandoned the pigeons and were diving for the trees. The smaller one tumbled anyhow in among the protecting branches. But the larger one was still fifty feet above the tallest pine when the eagle was upon him. He turned on his back to defend himself, talons uppermost, but Baldy’s huge claws struck and held. With the fluttering hawk in his grasp he circled the plantation, screaming defiance. And then suddenly, as he swept over the barnyard, he dropped the hawk, swooped, and snatched the rooster from under the very noses of his comrades.

    A roar of rage went up from the robbers as a solitary bright tail-feather floated slowly down among them.
    Leo whacked Freginald on the back. “Didn’t I tell go you?” he shouted. And he let out a full-throated roar which the eagle answered with a scream as he beat up to clear the trees. Through the angry shouting of the animals Freginald could hear the frightened squawks of the rooster growing fainter and fainter as he disappeared in the northern sky.
    But the capture of their lieutenant had aroused the robbers. In a few moments the doorway was filled with a jostling crowd of threatening animals whom the guards had difficulty in holding back. There were shouts of “Lynch them!” and Leo began surreptitiously to try out the sharpness of his claws on a post, when the bull came shouldering heavily through the mob.
    â€œStand back!” he bellowed, thrusting right and left with his horns. In the doorway he stood with his head low, looking menacingly at the prisoners with his little red eyes. Then he turned and gave his orders swiftly.
    Half an hour later Leo and Freginald had been taken out of the barn and shoved up into the attic of the house. There was a guard at the foot of the attic stairs and through the little windows at each end the could see sentinels being posted and sacks of grain being dragged into the cellar. The house was evidently being prepared for a state of siege.

    When it began to get dark, Leo went to the head of the stairs and shouted to the guards, demanding something to eat. For some time there was no reply, but at last a voice said: “You might as well pipe down, lion. No supper for you tonight. Captain’s orders.”
    â€œWell, look here,” said Leo, “that’s no way to treat prisoners. You can’t starve us to death.”
    â€œWhy not?” said the voice.
    Leo couldn’t think of any answer to this, so he just snarled.
    After a minute the voice said: “You’ll get something to eat when your Mr. Boomschmidt agrees to go on about his business. Not before.”
    â€œOh, so that’s the game, is it?” said Leo.
    â€œCaptain’s orders,” said the voice.
    â€œWell,” said Leo, coming back and lying down beside Freginald, “I guess we’ll have to make the best of it. But we can irritate ’em a little. How’s your voice, Fredg—can you sing tenor?”
    â€œI’m not much of a singer,” said the bear, “but I guess I can carry a tune.”
    â€œH’m,” said Leo. “Well, just so they can recognize it. Let’s give ’em Marching through Georgia . You take the air.”
    Now, some singing is very pretty, but Leo’s voice was more suited to calling to friends a long distance away to making melody. And Freginald, like most bears, had no voice at all. So it is probable that the howls of anger that came from the robbers were due as much to the noise they made as to their choice of song. It was really pretty bad. And, although he was pleased to be able to annoy the robbers, Freginald refused