— My Father's Dragon —
written by Ruth Stiles Gannett - illustrated by Ruth Chrisman Gannett - narrated by Kevin Killavey

 

Chapter Six

MY FATHER MEETS A RHINOCEROS

My father soon found a trail leading away from the clearing. All sorts of animals might be using it too, but he decided to follow the trail no matter what he met because it might lead to the dragon. He kept a sharp lookout in front and behind and went on.

Just as he was feeling quite safe, he came around a curve right behind the two wild boars. One of them was saying to the other, “Did you know that the tortoises thought they saw Monkey carrying his sick grandmother to the doctor’s last night? But Monkey’s grandmother died a week ago, so they must have seen something else. I wonder what it was.”

“I told you that there was an invasion afoot,” said the other boar, “and I intend to find out what it is. I simply can’t stand invasions.”

“Nee meither,” said a tiny little voice. “I mean, me neither,” and my father knew that the mouse was there, too.

“Well,” said the first boar, “you search the trail up this way to the dragon. I’ll go back down the other way through the big clearing, and we’ll send Mouse to watch the Ocean Rocks in case the invasion should decide to go away before we find it.”

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My father hid behind a mahogany tree just in time, and the first boar walked right past him. My father waited for the other boar to get a head start on him, but he didn’t wait very long because he knew that when the first boar saw the tigers chewing gum in the clearing, he’d be even more suspicious.

Soon the trail crossed a little brook and my father, who by this time was very thirsty, stopped to get a drink of water. He still had on his rubber boots, so he waded into a little pool of water and was stooping down when something quite sharp picked him up by the seat of the pants and shook him very hard.

“Don’t you know that’s my private weeping pool?” said a deep angry voice.

My father couldn’t see who was talking because he was hanging in the air right over the pool, but he said, “Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that everybody had a private weeping pool.”

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“Everybody doesn’t!” said the angry voice, “but I do because I have such a big thing to weep about, and I drown everybody I find using my weeping pool.” With that the animal tossed my father up and down over the water.

“What—is it—that—you—weep about—so much?” asked my father, trying to get his breath, and he thought over all the things he had in his pack.

“Oh, I have many things to weep about, but the biggest thing is the color of my tusk.” My father squirmed every which way trying to see the tusk, but it was through the seat of his pants where he couldn’t possibly see it. “When I was a young rhinoceros, my tusk was pearly white,” said the animal (and then my father knew that he was hanging by the seat of his pants from a rhinoceros’ tusk!), “but it has turned a nasty yellow-gray in my old age, and I find it very ugly. You see, everything else about me is ugly, but when I had a beautiful tusk I didn’t worry so much about the rest. Now that my tusk is ugly too, I can’t sleep nights just thinking about how completely ugly I am, and I weep all the time. But why should I be telling you these things? I caught you using my pool and now I’m going to drown you.”

“Oh, wait a minute, Rhinoceros,” said my father. “I have some things that will make your tusk all white and beautiful again. Just let me down and I’ll give them to you.”

The rhinoceros said, “You do? I can hardly believe it! Why, I’m so excited!” He put my father down and danced around in a circle while my father got out the tube of tooth paste and the toothbrush.

“Now,” said my father, “just move your tusk a little nearer, please, and I’ll show you how to begin.” My father wet the brush in the pool, squeezed on a dab of tooth paste, and scrubbed very hard in one tiny spot. Then he told the rhinoceros to wash it off, and when the pool was calm again, he told the rhinoceros to look in the water and see how white the little spot was. It was hard to see in the dim light of the jungle, but sure enough, the spot shone pearly white, just like new. The rhinoceros was so pleased that he grabbed the toothbrush and began scrubbing violently, forgetting all about my father.

Just then my father heard hoofsteps and he jumped behind the rhinoceros. It was the boar coming back from the big clearing where the tigers were chewing gum. The boar looked at the rhinoceros, and at the toothbrush, and at the tube of tooth paste, and then he scratched his ear on a tree. “Tell me, Rhinoceros,” he said, “where did you get that fine tube of tooth paste and that toothbrush?”

“Too busy!” said the rhinoceros, and he went on brushing as hard as he could.

The boar sniffed angrily and trotted down the trail toward the dragon, muttering to himself, “Very suspicious—tigers too busy chewing gum, Rhinoceros too busy brushing his tusk—must get hold of that invasion. Don’t like it one bit, not one bit! It’s upsetting everybody terribly—wonder what it’s doing here, anyway.”

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Chapter Seven

MY FATHER MEETS A LION

My father waved goodbye to the rhinoceros, who was much too busy to notice, got a drink farther down the brook, and waded back to the trail. He hadn’t gone very far when he heard an angry animal roaring,

“Ding blast it! I told you not to go blackberrying yesterday. Won’t you ever learn? What will your mother say!”

My father crept along and peered into a small clearing just ahead. A lion was prancing about clawing at his mane, which was all snarled and full of blackberry twigs. The more he clawed the worse it became and the madder he grew and the more he yelled at himself, because it was himself he was yelling at all the time.

My father could see that the trail went through the clearing, so he decided to crawl around the edge in the underbrush and not disturb the lion.

He crawled and crawled, and the yelling grew louder and louder. Just as he was about to reach the trail on the other side the yelling suddenly stopped. My father looked around and saw the lion glaring at him. The lion charged and skidded to a stop a few inches away.

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“Who are you?” the lion yelled at my father.

“My name is Elmer Elevator.”

“Where do you think you are going?”

“I’m going home,” said my father.

“That’s what you think!” said the lion. “Ordinarily I’d save you for afternoon tea, but I happen to be upset enough and hungry enough to eat you right now.” And he picked up my father in his front paws to feel how fat he was.

My father said, “Oh, please, Lion, before you eat me, tell me why you are so particularly upset today.”

“It’s my mane,” said the lion, as he was figuring how many bites a little boy would make. “You see what a dreadful mess it is, and I don’t seem to be able to do anything about it. My mother is coming over on the dragon this afternoon, and if she sees me this way I’m afraid she’ll stop my allowance. She can’t stand messy manes! But I’m going to eat you now, so it won’t make any difference to you.”

“Oh, wait a minute,” said my father, “and I’ll give you just the things you need to make your mane all tidy and beautiful. I have them here in my pack.”

“You do?” said the lion. “Well, give them to me, and perhaps I’ll save you for afternoon tea after all,” and he put my father down on the ground.

My father opened the pack and took out the comb and the brush and the seven hair ribbons of different colors. “Look,” he said, “I’ll show you what to do on your forelock, where you can watch me. First you brush a while, and then you comb, and then you brush again until all the twigs and snarls are gone. Then you divide it up in three and braid it like this and tie a ribbon around the end.”

As my father was doing this, the lion watched very carefully and began to look much happier. When my father tied on the ribbon he was all smiles. “Oh, that’s wonderful, really wonderful!” said the lion. “Let me have the comb and brush and see if I can do it.” So my father gave him the comb and brush and the lion began busily grooming his mane. As a matter of fact, he was so busy that he didn’t even know when my father left.

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Chapter Eight

MY FATHER MEETS A GORILLA

My father was very hungry so he sat down under a baby banyan tree on the side of the trail and ate four tangerines. He wanted to eat eight or ten, but he had only thirteen left and it might be a long time before he could get more. He packed away all the peels and was about to get up when he heard the familiar voices of the boars.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen them with my own eyes, but wait and see for yourself. All the tigers are sitting around chewing gum to beat the band. Old Rhinoceros is so busy brushing his tusk that he doesn’t even look around to see who’s going by, and they’re all so busy they won’t even talk to me!”

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“Horsefeathers!” said the other boar, now very close to my father. “They’ll talk to me! I’m going to get to the bottom of this if it’s the last thing I do!”

The voices passed my father and went around a curve, and he hurried on because he knew how much more upset the boars would be when they saw the lion’s mane tied up in hair ribbons.

Before long my father came to a crossroads and he stopped to read the signs. Straight ahead an arrow pointed to the Beginning of the River; to the left, the Ocean Rocks; and to the right, to the Dragon Ferry. My father was reading all these signs when he heard pawsteps and ducked behind the signpost. A beautiful lioness paraded past and turned down toward the clearings. Although she could have seen my father if she had bothered to glance at the post, she was much too occupied looking dignified to see anything but the tip of her own nose. It was the lion’s mother, of course, and that, thought my father, must mean that the dragon was on this side of the river. He hurried on but it was farther away than he had judged. He finally came to the river bank in the late afternoon and looked all around, but there was no dragon anywhere in sight. He must have gone back to the other side.

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My father sat down under the palm tree and was trying to have a good idea when something big and black and hairy jumped out of the tree and landed with a loud crash at his feet.

“Well?” said a huge voice.

“Well what?” said my father, for which he was very sorry when he looked up and discovered he was talking to an enormous and very fierce gorilla.

“Well, explain yourself,” said the gorilla. “I’ll give you till ten to tell me your name, business, your age, and what’s in that pack,” and he began counting to ten as fast as he could.

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My father didn’t even have time to say “Elmer Elevator, explorer” before the gorilla interrupted, “Too slow! I’ll twist your arms the way I twist that dragon’s wings, and then we’ll see if you can’t hurry up a bit.” He grabbed my father’s arms, one in each fist, and was just about to twist them when he suddenly let go and began scratching his chest with both hands.

“Blast those fleas!” he raged. “They won’t give you a moment’s peace, and the worst of it is that you can’t even get a good look at them. Rosie! Rhoda! Rachel! Ruthie! Ruby! Roberta! Come here and get rid of this flea on my chest. It’s driving me crazy!”

Six little monkeys tumbled out of the palm tree, dashed to the gorilla, and began combing the hair on his chest.

“Well,” said the gorilla, “it’s still there!”

“We’re looking, we’re looking,” said the six little monkeys, “but they’re awfully hard to see, you know.”

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“I know,” said the gorilla, “but hurry. I’ve got work to do,” and he winked at my father.

“Oh, Gorilla,” said my father, “in my knapsack I have six magnifying glasses. They’d be just the thing for hunting fleas.” My father unpacked them and gave one to Rosie, one to Rhoda, one to Rachel, one to Ruthie, one to Ruby, and one to Roberta.

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“Why, they’re miraculous!” said the six little monkeys. “It’s easy to see the fleas now, only there are hundreds of them!” And they went on hunting frantically.

A moment later many more monkeys appeared out of a nearby clump of mangroves and began crowding around to get a look at the fleas through the magnifying glasses. They completely surrounded the gorilla, and he could not see my father nor did he remember to twist his arms.

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Chapter Nine

MY FATHER MAKES A BRIDGE

My father walked back and forth along the bank trying to think of some way to cross the river. He found a high flagpole with a rope going over to the other side. The rope went through a loop at the top of the pole and then down the pole and around a large crank. A sign on the crank said:

TO SUMMON DRAGON, YANK THE CRANK
REPORT DISORDERLY CONDUCT TO GORILLA

From what the cat had told my father, he knew that the other end of the rope was tied around the dragon’s neck, and he felt sorrier than ever for the poor dragon. If he were on this side, the gorilla would twist his wings until it hurt so much that he’d have to fly to the other side. If he were on the other side, the gorilla would crank the rope until the dragon would either choke to death or fly back to this side. What a life for a baby dragon!

My father knew that if he called to the dragon to come across the river, the gorilla would surely hear him, so he thought about climbing the pole and going across the rope. The pole was very high, and even if he could get to the top without being seen he’d have to go all the way across hand over hand. The river was very muddy, and all sorts of unfriendly things might live in it, but my father could think of no other way to get across. He was about to start up the pole when, despite all the noise the monkeys were making, he heard a loud splash behind him. He looked all around in the water but it was dusk now, and he couldn’t see anything there.

“It’s me, Crocodile,” said a voice to the left. “The water’s lovely, and I have such a craving for something sweet. Won’t you come in for a swim?”

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A pale moon came out from behind the clouds and my father could see where the voice was coming from. The crocodile’s head was just peeping out of the water.

“Oh, no thank you,” said my father. “I never swim after sundown, but I do have something sweet to offer you. Perhaps you’d like a lollipop, and perhaps you have friends who would like lollipops, too?”

“Lollipops!” said the crocodile. “Why, that is a treat! How about it, boys?”

A whole chorus of voices shouted, “Hurrah! Lollipops!” and my father counted as many as seventeen crocodiles with their heads just peeping out of the water.

“That’s fine,” said my father as he got out the two dozen pink lollipops and the rubber bands. “I’ll stick one here in the bank. Lollipops last longer if you keep them out of the water, you know. Now, one of you can have this one.”

The crocodile who had first spoken swam up and tasted it. “Delicious, mighty delicious!” he said.

“Now if you don’t mind,” said my father, “I’ll just walk along your back and fasten another lollipop to the tip of your tail with a rubber band. You don’t mind, do you?”

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“Oh no, not in the least,” said the crocodile.

“Can you get your tail out of the water just a bit?” asked my father.

“Yes, of course,” said the crocodile, and he lifted up his tail. Then my father ran along his back and fastened another lollipop with a rubber band.

“Who’s next?” said my father, and a second crocodile swam up and began sucking on that lollipop.

“Now, you gentlemen can save a lot of time if you just line up across the river,” said my father, “and I’ll be along to give you each a lollipop.”

So the crocodiles lined up right across the river with their tails in the air, waiting for my father to fasten on the rest of the lollipops. The tail of the seventeenth crocodile just reached the other bank.

 

Chapter Ten

MY FATHER FINDS THE DRAGON

When my father was crossing the back of the fifteenth crocodile with two more lollipops to go, the noise of the monkeys suddenly stopped, and he could hear a much bigger noise getting louder every second. Then he could hear seven furious tigers and one raging rhinoceros and two seething lions and one ranting gorilla along with countless screeching monkeys, led by two extremely irate wild boars, all yelling, “It’s a trick! It’s a trick! There’s an invasion and it must be after our dragon. Kill it! Kill it!” The whole crowd stampeded down to the bank.

As my father was fixing the seventeenth lollipop for the last crocodile he heard a wild boar scream, “Look, it came this way! It’s over there now, see! The crocodiles made a bridge for it,” and just as my father leapt onto the other bank one of the wild boars jumped onto the back of the first crocodile. My father didn’t have a moment to spare.

By now the dragon realized that my father was coming to rescue him. He ran out of the bushes and jumped up and down yelling, “Here I am! I’m right here! Can you see me? Hurry, the boar is coming over on the crocodiles, too. They’re all coming over! Oh, please hurry, hurry!” The noise was simply terrific.

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My father ran up to the dragon, and took out his very sharp jackknife. “Steady, old boy, steady. We’ll make it. Just stand still,” he told the dragon as he began to saw through the big rope.

By this time both boars, all seven tigers, the two lions, the rhinoceros, and the gorilla, along with the countless screeching monkeys, were all on their way across the crocodiles and there was still a lot of rope to cut through.

“Oh, hurry,” the dragon kept saying, and my father again told him to stand still.

“If I don’t think I can make it,” said my father, “we’ll fly over to the other side of the river and I can finish cutting the rope there.”

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Suddenly the screaming grew louder and madder and my father thought the animals must have crossed the river. He looked around, and saw something which surprised and delighted him. Partly because he had finished his lollipop, and partly because, as I told you before, crocodiles are very moody and not the least bit dependable and are always looking for something to eat, the first crocodile had turned away from the bank and started swimming down the river. The second crocodile hadn’t finished yet, so he followed right after the first, still sucking his lollipop. All the rest did the same thing, one right after the other, until they were all swimming away in a line. The two wild boars, the seven tigers, the rhinoceros, the two lions, the gorilla, along with the countless screeching monkeys, were all riding down the middle of the river on the train of crocodiles sucking pink lollipops, and all yelling and screaming and getting their feet wet.

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My father and the dragon laughed themselves weak because it was such a silly sight. As soon as they had recovered, my father finished cutting the rope and the dragon raced around in circles and tried to turn a somersault. He was the most excited baby dragon that ever lived. My father was in a hurry to fly away, and when the dragon finally calmed down a bit my father climbed up onto his back.

“All aboard!” said the dragon. “Where shall we go?”

“We’ll spend the night on the beach, and tomorrow we’ll start on the long journey home. So, it’s off to the shores of Tangerina!” shouted my father as the dragon soared above the dark jungle and the muddy river and all the animals bellowing at them and all the crocodiles licking pink lollipops and grinning wide grins. After all, what did the crocodiles care about a way to cross the river, and what a fine feast they were carrying on their backs!

As my father and the dragon passed over the Ocean Rocks they heard a tiny excited voice scream, “Bum cack! Bum cack! We dreed our nagon! I mean, we need our dragon!”

But my father and the dragon knew that nothing in the world would ever make them go back to Wild Island.

THE END

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