The Case of the Dinosaur Birds
Page 7
Freddy patted her on the shoulder. “Now, Momma, please be careful. They don’t act hardly normal.”
Yipes, there was fire in Snort’s eyes, and we’re not talking about a little fire. It was the kind of fire that says, “This goose is fixing to be cooked!”
When Momma saw that look of pure meanness, she let out a gasp and grabbed hold of her son. “Freddy, do something!”
Freddy’s eyes went blank and he froze.
Chapter Twelve: Justice Triumphs Again!
Well, what’s a dog supposed to do, sit there and watch while a couple of bird-brained tourists get mugged by the local cannibals? I didn’t want to get involved, but I had no choice.
I grabbed a gulp of air and dived into the water, went bounding out into the middle of the creek, and took aim at a set of tail feathers. CHOMP! Feathers flew and so did Momma.
Freddy’s mouth dropped open. “You bit my momma!”
“And you’re next, unless you get out of here! Fly, fly, fly!”
Glory be, he finally figured it out and flapped up into the sky. At that point, I turned to face . . . gulp . . . two ferocious dragons. I mean, I had more or less spoiled their supper plans, and they appeared to be REALLY MAD about it. Clearly, this would be a test of my diplomatic skills.
I molded my face into a friendly smile. “Guys, I know what you’re thinking, but if you’ll give me a moment, I think I can explain everything, no kidding.” They kept creeping toward me, their eyes crackling with unholy light. I began easing backward toward the north bank. “Snort, let me remind you that those birds were pelicans, not geese; and it’s common knowledge that pelican meat is, well, tough and stringy. Very tough. You’d have been disappointed, honest.”
They kept coming. You know, when coyotes stop talking, it’s usually a bad sign. Okay, charm wasn’t going to bail me out of this deal. I would have to rely on my amazing speed and quickness.
In the blink of an eye, I whirled around, pointed myself to the north, and pushed the throttle lever all the way to Turbo Seven. The roar of rocket engines filled the air, and the world whizzed past me in a blur. Huge trees bent to the ground. Dust swirled behind me. Ants scampered into their holes, and butterflies flapped and fluttered to get out of my . . .
BAM!
Huh? I was lying in the sand on the north bank of the creek. I looked up and saw what appeared to be a tree towering over me, only it had hair and sharp teeth and looked a lot like an angry coyote.
“Snort? Hey, you were out in the middle of the creek just a second ago. How did you . . .”
His jagged laughter sent chills down my spine. “Hunk slower than turtle and dumber than goose. Now Rip and Snort make supper out of Hunk, ho ho!”
“Hey, it’s too early for supper. Snort, could we discuss this? Don’t forget that dogs and coyotes are distant cousins. Snort?”
Imagine that you’re standing onstage, looking out at a huge auditorium full of TEETH. That’s what I saw when Snort opened his mouth.
Well, I’d had a pretty good life—a few victories, a few defeats, and a few laughs in between. I wasn’t quite ready to check out, but it appeared . . . gulp . . . that we were getting close to the end.
But suddenly . . . you won’t believe this . . . at the very last second, something strange happened. An unidentified object dropped out of the sky and struck Snort on top of the head with a loud splattering sound.
He closed his jaws and rubbed his head and turned to his brother. “Uh. Something smack Snort on top of head.” Rip nodded and pointed toward a strange object that was flopping around on the creek bank. Snort looked closer and grunted, “Uh! Fretch fitch fall out of sky?”
Rip thought that was pretty funny and started laughing . . . until he heard an odd whistling sound overhead. He raised his eyes . . . just in time to catch a two-pound bass right on the end of his nose. BLAP!
At that point, the brothers weren’t laughing. Their eyes grew wide, and they began looking around in all directions. While Rip rubbed his nose, Snort muttered, “Uh! Fretch fitch raining down from overhead sky!”
Rip nodded and said, “Uh!”
Snort gave his head a vigorous shake and roared, “Snort not believe in raining fretch fitch from sky! Must be some kind of phooey trick!” BLAP! A three-pound catfish came streaking out of the sky and beaned him so hard, it knocked him to his knees. He pushed himself up on wobbly legs and grunted. “Uh. Maybe Snort believe in raining down fretch fitch.”
BAM! This one was a five-pound carp, and it landed right between the brothers. Snort stared at the carp. “Uh. Fretch fitch big enough to put big hurt on coyote brothers.” Rip nodded and began backing away. Snort began backing away. BAM! Another big carp rained down from the sky, missing Snort by only a matter of inches.
That did it. Snort didn’t know what was going on, but he wanted no more of it. In a flash, two full-grown coyotes vanished and went crashing through the brush along the creek.
Well! That was pretty interesting, all those fish falling out of the sky; and they had certainly come at a good time for me. I mean, one more minute and I would have been crow bait.
But what had caused the sky to rain down fish? It was one of the strangest events I’d seen in my whole career. I was in the process of trying to figure it out when I heard a PLOP behind me. I whirled around and saw . . .
You probably think it was another fish, right? Well, you’re wrong. What I saw wasn’t another fish but a big bird wearing a silly grin. Freddy. And all at once, the pieces of the peezle began falling into a puddle.
All the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place, let us say.
I stared at him in disbelief. “You did this?”
“Yeah, me and Momma. It was her idea, but I done the biggest part of the work.” He chuckled and gave me a wink. “Back home they call me the Brownsville Bomber.”
“Yes, I can see why. You’re pretty good.”
That made him proud. “Thanks. It ain’t over ’til the fat lady gets hit by a fish while she’s singing.”
“Amazing! Well, Freddy, I hardly know what to say . . . except thank you. You really saved my hide on that one.”
“Well, you kind of saved ours too.” His face grew solemn. “But Hank, I’ve got some bad news. Brace yourself.” He moved closer and laid a wing on my shoulder. “We’re gonna leave.”
My heart leaped for joy. “Freddy, that’s . . . that’s awful news! You can’t stick around for another month or two?”
He wagged his head and pointed a wing toward the sky, where his mother was flying around in a holding pattern. “Nope. Momma’s made up her mind; she wants to go home.”
“Do you think you can find your way back?”
He gave his head a solemn nod. “I think I figured it out. The Gulf’s south of here, so if we fly south, we’ll find it.”
“Freddy, that’s brilliant.” I shook his hand . . . wing. “Well, I wish you a safe trip. Say hello to all the jellyfish.”
He grinned and whispered behind his wing, “Say, did I ever tell you about the time I scooped up a big old jellyfish in my beak? Heh. Those things have stingers, don’t you know, and . . .”
Overhead, Freddy’s mother screeched, “Freddy, come on, we’re a-burning daylight!”
He shrugged. “I guess I’d better go.”
“Freddy, I have two small favors to ask. First, tell your mother I’m sorry I called her an old fossil.”
He nodded. “That’s nice, she’ll be happy to hear it.” He glanced over each shoulder and whispered, “But you know, she does kind of look like one, don’t she?” We shared a laugh. “What was the second favor?”
“The second thing is . . . before you fly south, I would really appreciate it if you would . . .” I whispered my request.
You’re probably dying to know what I said, but I’m not going to tell you. You’ll just have to ke
ep reading.
Well, we said our good-byes, and Freddy launched himself back into the sky. I made my way back to ranch headquarters and went straight to the yard fence. Guess who was still sitting on the porch, purring and staring out at the world with weird eyes. Mister Kitty Precious.
When he saw me at the gate, his face burst into a gleeful expression. “Oh goodie, it’s Hankie again! What brings you back to the scene of your most recent disgrace?” He snickered.
“Pete, you’re not going to believe this, but I’ve come to make peace.”
“You’re right, Hankie. I don’t believe it. I’ve heard this before.”
“I know, but this time it’s different. All this bad blood between us . . . Pete, it’s just not right. Think of all the years we’ve wasted, fussing and fighting.”
“I know, Hankie, but it’s been so much fun.”
“Fun for you, not for me. I’ve had enough. Let’s talk peace treaty.”
Taking his sweet time, he came halfway down the sidewalk and stopped. He turned and glanced back at the house. It was then that I noticed . . . oops . . . Sally May’s face framed in the kitchen window. Don’t forget that she had Radar for Naughty Thoughts, and she had her antenna aimed straight at me.
Sally May’s looming presence seemed to give Kitty a rush of courage, and he came prancing the rest of the way to the gate. He curled his tail around himself, sat down, and flashed a crazy smile.
“Hankie, it doesn’t matter whether we make war or peace—you always lose. It’s just a fact of nature. It happens every time.”
“I’m willing to take the chance, Pete, because, well, I believe in miracles.”
“Really! How interesting.” He licked his paw. “I don’t.”
“Okay, what would you say if a fish fell out of the sky? Would that be a miracle?”
WHAP! A perch hit the ground beside him. Kitty went off like a loaded mousetrap, jumped two feet straight up in the air. It was hilarious, but I kept a straight face.
Pete stared at the fish, then turned a glare on me. The wheels in his mind were turning. “What are you up to, Hankie?”
“Was it a miracle or not?”
“It won’t happen again in a thousand years.”
BLAP!
This time Freddy nailed him, and you never saw a cat jump higher in the air. We’re talking about five feet straight up, like a little spring that had been pinched down and then released. Oh, and he cut loose with a delicious squeal. “Reeeeeeeer!”
“What do you say now, Pete? Do you believe in miracles?”
For once in his life, Kitty was speechless. This had blown his tiny mind. He had no idea what was going on, and he didn’t stick around to talk about it. In a flash, he was gone.
I loved it, absolutely loved it. But then . . . uh-oh . . . seconds later, the back door burst open and out came Sally May, pumping her arms the way she does when she’s mad.
“All right, Hank, I’ve had about enough of . . .”
BLAP! Another fish hit the grass. Sally May froze in her tracks . . . looked at the fish, looked at me, looked up in the sky . . . and ran back inside the house!
Ho! This was almost too good, even better than I had dared to hope. By George, we had bombed the cat and . . . BLAP!
Huh? Good grief, Freddy was bombing ME!
“Hey, Freddy, you can call off the . . .” BLAP!
Well, the Brownsville Bomber appeared to be having a big time up there. He’d bombed two coyotes, one cat, the owner’s wife, and even the Head of Security. For the next five minutes, no one on the ranch was safe.
It takes a while to motivate a pelican, but once you get ’em started, it’s hard to shut ’em down.
Oh well, the impointant pork is that I had solved one of the most puzzling cases of my whole career and had saved a couple of clueless birds from a terrible fate. Best of all, I had managed to get them off my ranch and out of my hair.
No, wait. Best of all was that I had finally managed to score a major victory against the little creep of a cat; and fellers, that was sweet. SWEET! Pete didn’t come out of hiding for two days, and guess who got all his scraps. Hee hee. Best scraps I ever ate.
Wow, what a day! Slow start but a strong finish, which just goes to prove that it’s always darkest before it gets any darker, so we should never give up hope.
And with that piece of wisdom, this case is closed.
Oh, one more thing. The people on my ranch never figured out how all those fish got in the yard. I mean, we’re talking about seriously confused. Hee hee. You and I know the answer, but we’re not talking.
Shh.
Further Reading
Have you read all of Hank’s adventures?
1 The Original Adventures of Hank the Cowdog
2 The Further Adventures of Hank the Cowdog
3 It’s a Dog’s Life
4 Murder in the Middle Pasture
5 Faded Love
6 Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
7 The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob
8 The Case of the One-Eyed Killer Stud Horse
9 The Case of the Halloween Ghost
10 Every Dog Has His Day
11 Lost in the Dark Unchanted Forest
12 The Case of the Fiddle-Playing Fox
13 The Wounded Buzzard on Christmas Eve
14 Hank the Cowdog and Monkey Business
15 The Case of the Missing Cat
16 Lost in the Blinded Blizzard
17 The Case of the Car-Barkaholic Dog
18 The Case of the Hooking Bull
19 The Case of the Midnight Rustler
20 The Phantom in the Mirror
21 The Case of the Vampire Cat
22 The Case of the Double Bumblebee Sting
23 Moonlight Madness
24 The Case of the Black-Hooded Hangmans
25 The Case of the Swirling Killer Tornado
26 The Case of the Kidnapped Collie
27 The Case of the Night-Stalking Bone Monster
28 The Mopwater Files
29 The Case of the Vampire Vacuum Sweeper
30 The Case of the Haystack Kitties
31 The Case of the Vanishing Fishhook
32 The Garbage Monster from Outer Space
33 The Case of the Measled Cowboy
34 Slim’s Good-bye
35 The Case of the Saddle House Robbery
36 The Case of the Raging Rottweiler
37 The Case of the Deadly Ha-Ha Game
38 The Fling
39 The Secret Laundry Monster Files
40 The Case of the Missing Bird Dog
41 The Case of the Shipwrecked Tree
42 The Case of the Burrowing Robot
43 The Case of the Twisted Kitty
44 The Dungeon of Doom
45 The Case of the Falling Sky
46 The Case of the Tricky Trap
47 The Case of the Tender Cheeping Chickies
48 The Case of the Monkey Burglar
49 The Case of the Booby-Trapped Pickup
50 The Case of the Most Ancient Bone
51 The Case of the Blazing Sky
52 The Quest for the Great White Quail
53 Drover’s Secret Life
54 The Case of the Dinosaur Birds
55 The Case of the Secret Weapon
56 The Case of the Coyote Invasion
57 The Disappearance of Drover
58 The Case of the Mysterious Voice
59 The Case of the Perfect Dog
60 The Big Question
About the Author and Illustrator
John R. Erickson, a former cowboy, has written numerous books for both children and adults and is best known for his acclaimed Han
k the Cowdog series. He lives and works on his ranch in Perryton, Texas, with his family.
Gerald L. Holmes has illustrated numerous cartoons and textbooks in addition to the Hank the Cowdog series. He lives in Perryton, Texas.