So we crept towards them, hidden from view by the beautiful thick
rye-stalks, until we were close to the edge of the pasture-field.
Then, at a signal from Natasha, we all three pounced out upon them,
growling and open-mouthed. Oh dear, oh dear! it was a funny sight to
see those children! The silly creatures were too startled to move
until we were upon them. They stood staring and shrieking, with eyes
and mouth open, and turned to run only when it was too late. How we
laughed as we rolled them over and over in the grass and scratched
their faces, and tore their dresses off their backs! and how they
screamed! The whole population of the village rushed out to see what
all the noise was about, big men and women with axes and long things
called scythes, and then we thought it was time to retire among our
rye-stalks. There we hid ourselves and laughed, and ate the delicious
cool, juicy grasses, and the luscious rye-grains, until we could eat
and laugh no more, and determined to make a move into the woods, in
order to have a good drink in a moss pool we knew of and then lie down
a bit and sleep off the excitement. But to our horror we found that
those mean wretches, the humans belonging to the village, were waiting
for us outside the cover. They had sneaked up and surrounded us, and
were sitting silently all along the edge of the field, armed with
their axes and scythes and nets; luckily they had no fire-sticks!
Well, Vainka was, as it happened, the first to step out from among
the rye-stalks, and he was immediately confronted by two women and a
man who ran after him--one getting in front and one on each side.
While they were busy with him, however, Natasha and I escaped
unnoticed and were able to watch the pursuit of poor Vainka from a
position of safety. One of the women had a crawfish net with a long
wooden handle. This creature kept calling to the others, "Don't kill
him, don't kill him! we'll take him alive!" The others seemed to
agree, for they closed in upon poor little Vainka and placed the
crawfish net tightly over his head and face, so that, though he fought
fiercely and bravely for liberty, he was quite powerless to hurt them.
Then they led him away to the village and we saw him no more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account