The Tale of Oat Cake Crag - By Susan Wittig Albert Page 0,81
yooou’re looking for?”
“You’ve szseen it?” the dragon hissed with great excitement. When the owl nodded, his belly began to glow warmly. “You’ve actually szseen it! And you say it has four wings and a tail? Four wingszs!” He whooshed out a smoky breath. “The Grand Dragonszs will be astonished when they hear thiszs!”
The owl stepped back, fearing that his feathers might be singed. “Why, yes,” he said. “Indeed, I saw it crash, just a few hours ago. Right down intooo the water. Made a gigantic splash, it did. Broke a wing, wrecked the tail, nearly drowned twooo men.”
“Oh, my starszs!” breathed the dragon. His words were studded with exclamation points. “Oh, my scaleszs! Perhaps I shall be able to give the Grand Dragons an eyewitneszss report! Even arrange for an interview!” He paused for breath. “Bailey sayszs that one of his relatives saw this creature from Oat Cake Crag. Do you think that would be a good place for me to watch for it? Tonight, perhapszs?”
“You could certainly see it from there,” the Professor agreed. “I don’t believe, however, that the thing is likely tooo fly again anytime soon. The men have got tooo repair the wing, rebuild the tail, and get the motor working again, yooou see. It might be several days before—”
“The men?” The dragon was staring at him blankly. “The motor?”
“Why, the men who are supposed tooo keep the hydroooplane flying, of course.”
“The hydroplane?”
“Indeed.” The Professor, with some justification, felt himself to be in the company of a backward student. He cleared his throat. “Hydroooplane.” He uttered the word carefully, to ensure that Thorvaald understood it. “That is hydrooo, as in water, from the Greek, ύδρ. Tooo wit: hydrooography, hydrooopathy, hydrooometer. There is also hydrooometer and hydrooophobia and hydrooosphere, which is tooo say—”
“Excuszse me,” broke in the dragon. “I’m not at all zssure we’re talking about the same thing, Professzsor. I am inquiring about a dragon-like creature that swimszs in the water. It may fly from time to time, but—”
“And I am talking,” interrupted the Professor stiffly, “about a dragonfly-like creature that swims in the water from time tooo time but otherwise flies through the air.”
As you can see, there is some confusion here. I think we should leave Thorvaald and the Professor to sort it out and drop in on one or two other conversations. It is, after all, a party, and the animals are sharing a few other tidbits of local news, some fact, some fiction.
In the corner near the fireplace, Hyacinth was regaling a rapt group of listeners with the true story of what had happened on Oak Cake Crag—Mr. Baum’s fall and rescue, as well as the doctor’s report that it was impossible to tell when or even whether the injured man would awaken.
“It’s a good thing for Mr. Baum that you and the others happened to be there,” Thorn said. “Otherwise, he might have lain there for days and days.”
“Too right,” said a brown hare. “He might never have been found.”
“People never really appreciate all that animals do for them,” the second brown hare said. “They think they do it all themselves.” This was a common lament when animals got together. Humans took them for granted, or abused them, or actively campaigned against them. It hadn’t always been that way, of course, but it was now.
“If Mr. Baum is out of the picture,” the third brown hare asked, “does that mean that the aeroplane will go away?”
“There might not be any aeroplane left,” a hedgehog put in excitedly. He had just been listening as Max the Manx and Fritz the ferret discussed the aeroplane crash, so he began to repeat what he had heard.
But since we already know that story, we’ll move on to another corner, where Parsley and the village cats have put their heads together over a subject of great interest—a romantic subject.
“I’ve just heard,” said Parsley excitedly, “that Miss Potter and Mr. Heelis are secretly engaged to be married. Flotsam and Jetsam went down to the Crooks’ garden for carrots around lunchtime, and overheard Mrs. Crook telling Bertha Stubbs all about it. Isn’t that lovely news?”
“Married!” squealed Tabitha and Crumpet in unison. “Is it true? Married?” They turned to Rascal, who had just walked up to them. “Rascal! Mrs. Crook says that Miss Potter is secretly engaged to Mr. Heelis! They’re going to be married! What do you think of that?”
Rascal knew the truth about Miss Potter’s engagement, for she had told him herself. But of course, he didn’t