by Chris Kurtz
Table of Contents
Title Page
Table of Contents
Photo
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
About the Author
Copyright © 2013 by Chris Kurtz
Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Black Reinhardt
All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. 215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003
Harcourt Children’s Books is an imprint of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.
www.hmhbooks.com
The illustrations were done in black ink.
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Kurtz, Chris, 1960–
The adventures of a South Pole pig : a novel of snow and courage/Chris Kurtz ; illustrations by Jennifer Black Reinhardt.
pages cm
Summary: “Flora the pig ditches the sedentary life on the farm for an adventure in Antarctica, where she escapes the knife and lives her dream of pulling a sled with a team of dogs”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-547-63455-5
[1. Pigs—Fiction. 2. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 3. Dogsledding—Fiction. 4. Sled dogs—Fiction. 5. Dogs—Fiction. 6. Antarctica—Fiction.] I. Reinhardt, Jennifer Black, 1963– illustrator. II. Title.
PZ7.K9626Ad 2012
[Fic]—dc23
2012027226
eISBN 978-0-547-92779-4
v1.0113
For Carolyn,
My North Star—C.K.
Chapter 1
Mama, why do we have to live in a cage? Flora dug in the dirt at something hard and rusty.
“Honey, don’t do that.” Her mother nosed her away. “And it’s not a cage. It’s a pigpen.”
“Same thing,” said Flora under her breath.
How unlucky she was—born with adventurous hooves that were stuck inside a pen. But she wasn’t giving up. If there was a way out, Flora said to herself, she would find it.
She had already packed down trails to each corner of the pen. She had poked her wet snout through every wooden slat to smell the other side. And she had dug holes all along the pen’s perimeter. Usually the only thing hiding under the surface was more dirt—until today. Maybe this hard and rusty something would bring a change in routine.
As soon as her mother turned, Flora went back to digging. She scratched away busily until the thing popped out of the ground.
“I knew it.” Flora gave a little squeal of joy. Now she had to see what it could do.
“Flora!” shouted her mother.
Flora took a step back.
Her mother trotted over, and close on her heels were three brothers. Flora had seven, so there was always at least one around to watch her get into trouble.
“Rusty pieces of metal are very dangerous. Why do you insist on unearthing things better left alone?” said her mother.
Flora stamped the ground. “If it’s unexplored then it needs to get dug up.”
“I see,” said Mother. “Well if it is sharp and rusty, then it needs to stay unexplored and underground.” Her mother used her snout to nudge and scoot the nail over to the wooden fence, where there was a space between the ground and the lowest board.
“Mama, wait! I’m not done with that thingy yet.” Flora shoved herself between her mother’s legs.
Her mother pushed her back. “You most certainly are done with this thingy, little one.” With a firm kick, she spun the nail under the board and out of sight.
Flora screwed up her face, not sure if she should stomp or flop on the ground. But before she could choose, her mother lay down with her back against the fence. “Breakfast time!” she called.
A thrill ran through Flora. She was hungry.
So were her brothers.
Flora dove for a good spot, only to find herself bumped and turned aside.
“There’s enough for everyone,” Mother said. Nobody listened.
But Flora, the firstborn of the litter, had sturdy shoulders and strong back legs. When she failed to push through, she had other ways to make room for herself. Standing on a brother’s ear usually created an opening. And if that didn’t work, she’d use her sharp teeth. Flora found that if she chomped down on a brother’s tail, she could count on a loud squeal and an open space.
A girl had to fight for her food in this family—except against little Alfred, the runt. If he started sniffling, Flora made room for two.
After breakfast was naptime. Little pigs with their tummies round and full of milk flopped against one another on the ground. But Flora thought piglets spent too much of their lives sleeping. Today she pawed her brother’s knee. “Sam, wake up.”
“Ummm,” Sam grunted. He didn’t move.
Flora went over to Tommy. His ear was flopped open.
“Boo.” Tommy’s head snapped up. “Naptime’s over,” she said.
“Go away.” Tommy laid his head back down and folded his ear closed.
Flora returned to Sam. She thought about standing on his tail.
Just behind her someone else grunted. When Flora turned, she saw Alfred smiling and twitching in his sleep.
“Alfred!” She walked over to her littlest brother, who opened his eyes. “It’s time to go exploring.”
“Flora, I have a full tummy, and that always makes me sleepy. Besides, we explored the whole pen yesterday, and there wasn’t one new, exciting thing.”
“What about that nail I just dug up?”
Alfred closed his eyes. “New, but not exciting.”
“Fine.” Flora turned her back. She had to admit he was right. But if anything exciting ever did pop up, she’d be the first to see it, if she kept exploring.
She trotted over to the manure pile, Flora’s favorite lookout. It was the highest point in the pigpen and the only place Flora could hope to see anything interesting beyond her small world. She gazed past the shade of the pigpen roof to where the world was bright and sunny—sunny junk heap, sunny grass, sunny cornfield, sunny gravel road. A familiar sound floated in. Flora cocked her head to one side to listen. Dogs. They were barking again.
Now, seeing a dog would be exciting! What would it look like? she wondered. Woolly like a sheep? Horned like a bull? Single-hoofed like a horse or double-hoofed like a pig? One thing was sure, dogs made more noise than all of the other animals put together.
As the barking died down, Flora tilted her head up at the pigpen roof. Sunlight poured through little holes, showing bits of dust in the air. Flora moved so that one point of light landed on her front leg. This was as much di
rect sun as Flora ever got. She lay down carefully so that the spot of light stayed on her leg, and she watched it.
It looked like a little star. Mother had told her about the points of light that came out at night, like a hundred eyes, watching and twinkling high above the world. Flora wished she could see those eyes.
When the spot of light moved off her leg, she scrambled up and this time looked all around.
Behind her was an empty pigpen. To her right was the open side of the barn. Flora could see through it to the three horse stalls on the far wall. Only one had housed a horse for the last three days. Nessie was quiet except when her hooves knocked against the wooden walls.
Flora turned back to the sunshine and the junk heap.
There were old tires, machine parts, wavy rafts of chicken wire, and broken tools that lay where they had been tossed. In the middle was a wheelbarrow with no wheel, and in its body was a green garden hose coiled around...
A white fur ball?
Flora looked again. Was that a dog? The fur ball stretched and yawned. It had a black ear and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Flora’s front knees trembled. This was new and exciting!
The creature stepped down from the wheelbarrow and walked carelessly toward the pigpen. Should Flora warn her mother? No. She could handle the intruder.
She crept off the manure pile and pushed herself close to the fence where the fur ball might enter, if it was foolish enough to step inside a pigpen guarded by a fierce, sharp-hoofed piglet. She hadn’t woken up today expecting a fight, but this was going to be very satisfying. If some prowling food thief thought it could sneak into her home, Flora was just the pig to teach it a lesson. She crouched.
Sure enough, the fur ball slipped like water through the slats in the fence.
This was it, the moment Flora would leap and...
The fur ball sat down and began to lick itself.
Flora managed to stop from pouncing to watch. Its little pink tongue went in and out of its toothy mouth, licking the fur in front and then working from one side to the other.
This was perfect. It was so busy, it would never see her coming. Flora gathered herself and then launched.
“Hiyaaaaaaa!” she squealed.
Chapter 2
The stranger didn’t twirl around or scream in fear. Instead, it flew to the top of a fence post in one motion, as easily as if it were a bird, and sat blinking.
Flora slid to a stop and put her front feet up on the post. “Did I scare you?”
“Terrified.” The furry white creature gave itself another lick.
“I’ve got rock-hard hooves and a mouthful of sharp teeth.” Flora opened her mouth to show how sharp they were. “You’d better be careful.”
“Such terrible weapons. I’m lucky I’m still alive.”
“My name is Flora, and I’m a pig,” said Flora. “I’m in charge around here and...” She stopped because the animal had turned its head to lick its back.
Flora wasn’t sure it was listening.
“And I like your fur because it’s all white like mine.” Flora didn’t know why she had said this to an animal that might be an enemy. “Are you a dog?”
“My name is Luna, and I am most certainly not a dog. I’m a cat, and I like your spirit,” she said.
“We could be sisters,” said Flora.
Luna gazed at Flora for a moment. “We’re not sisters.” She went back to her licking.
Flora walked to the other side of the post to get a different view. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Licking yourself.”
“It’s how I keep clean.”
Flora stuck out her tongue and gave her shoulder a lick. It tickled her tongue in a way that didn’t feel very good, and, besides, it tasted funny.
“I don’t lick myself,” Flora announced, and rubbed her tongue on the top of her mouth to get rid of the tickly feeling.
“I can tell,” said Luna. “And that is why we’re not sisters.”
A soft breeze made Luna’s fur move like a wave. “Can I feel your fur?” Flora asked.
Luna hopped down. “Now, that’s a request a cat can never refuse.” She rubbed her white fur along Flora’s side, and her tail slipped under Flora’s neck.
Flora had never felt anything so soft—not even Mother’s underbelly or Alfred’s silky ears.
Luna walked over to the fence and turned. “I hope you don’t mind if I come back to visit someday even if we’re not sisters. I’ll try to remember to stay away from those rock-hard hooves of yours.”
Flora’s heart lurched. “You’re going already?”
Luna looked surprised. “I’m a cat. I come and go as I please.” She slid between the boards and disappeared.
A squeal slipped out. Flora couldn’t help it. She wasn’t proud of such a piggy noise. But she wanted so much to be able to come and go as she pleased. And her best chance for adventure of the whole day—the whole week and even the whole month—was leaving.
“Hey, relax.” One of Luna’s eyes appeared in the crack.
Flora made her voice behave. “Take me with you.”
“You’re not a cat—you’re a pig, remember? I wander around and see things, and you ... you stay in this pigpen and ... do pig stuff.”
“But I don’t want to do pig stuff,” Flora whispered. “I want to wander around.”
“Why?” Luna poked her head back inside the pen.
“I’m curious,” said Flora.
“Hmm.” Luna rubbed the side of her head against a board. “Curious. That’s a good quality. It shows you have spirit. Though some think being curious means you’re looking for trouble. I’ll go do some wandering. Then I’ll come back and tell you what I find. Stay out of trouble.” She drew her head back through the crack.
“But I don’t want to stay out of trouble!” Flora called. “I want something to happen around here!”
There was a silence, and then Luna’s head poked through the fence once more. “Oh, it will. You don’t have to look for trouble. It will find you. And when that happens”—Luna disappeared, but her voice continued—“keep up that great spirit and make a plan, because nine lives is just a state of mind.”
What plan? Flora raced back to the top of the manure pile and watched until Luna’s tall waving tail rounded the corner of the barn.
Flora sighed. With a heart born for adventure and hooves stuck in a pen, Flora couldn’t help thinking that trouble might be a good thing.
Chapter 3
After breakfast the next day, Flora sat on top of the manure pile while her lazy brothers snored away again. Too bad for them—they wouldn’t be making any new friends or learning new things or getting ready for trouble.
She stood up on her hind legs and waved her front hooves in the air. Luna would probably think that looked pretty spirited, if only she were here to watch. Luna. Luna. Flora put all her thoughts into wishing the cat back, and then...
There she was, slipping through the junk heap, her beautiful white flag of a tail following behind. Flora bundled down the manure pile to meet her.
Hi, Luna!”
Hi, Flora.” Luna hopped on a fence post.
“Watch this!” Flora spun around in a dizzying circle. She dashed to the top of the manure pile, did a two-legged walk, then raced back down, barely managing to stop herself before banging her snout into the fence.
“Wow,” said Luna.
“How’s that for spirit?” Flora was breathing hard.
“I never knew pigs could have so much.” Luna sounded as if she meant it. “You almost looked like a horse galloping up that manure pile.”
“Like Nessie?” Flora put her small hooves up on the post and looked over at the large hooves peeking out from underneath the horse stall door.
“Nessie used to be the fastest thing on the farm, but she’s older now and her front leg bothers her. Don’t get on her bad side, because she can still kick when she gets grouchy. She hates being cooped u
p for too long.”
That was exactly how Flora felt. She waited to hear more about grouchy Nessie, but Luna lifted her left hind foot and began licking between her toes.
“I’ve been getting ready for trouble,” said Flora.
Luna stopped licking but didn’t put her foot back where it was supposed to go. She looked at Flora as if she didn’t understand.
Flora tried again. “You know, like you said, it always finds you.”
“Oh, yeah.” Luna sat up straight. “The trouble with trouble is it’s a hard thing to prepare for. Speaking of trouble, this farm would be a great place to wander around, if it weren’t crawling with dogs. Maybe you’ve heard them.”
Flora nodded enthusiastically. “What do you know about dogs?”
“I know they howl just to hear themselves howl. I know if they get off their leash—and they always do—then look out, because no one is safe.”
Flora felt a little thrill go through her. She would be happy to teach a dog a lesson. “Why is the farm crawling with dogs?”
“Training,” said Luna. “The dogs on this farm are being trained for expeditions, which are the same things as adventures.”
“Adventures?” Flora couldn’t believe her ears.
How could anyone be so lucky?
“It starts when they’re puppies. About your age. First they get used to the lines and ropes and harnesses. Then comes the real work.”
Trained for adventure. Flora couldn’t get over it.
“They pull loads that get heavier and heavier,” Luna said. “Dogs might be annoying, but on this farm, they are the hardest working animals of all.”
“Why do they have to pull so—” Flora stopped.
Luna had slipped down to the ground, almost without moving a muscle. Now she was staring at the top of Flora’s head in the strangest way. Flora shook her head in case she had a bit of manure stuck to one of her ears.
But Luna didn’t stir except for her tail, which stuck straight out behind her and trembled at the tip. Then she lowered herself into a crouch, and her eyes got very wide. Flora realized they weren’t fixed on her at all but on something behind her.