Further Adventures of Pelle No-Tail

by Gösta Knutsson

  The day of the Spring Festival arrived. It was a beautiful Saturday in May. The sun was shining and birds were twittering cheekily in every bush, but it was the Spring Festival after all, so let’s leave them to it, thought the cats, and not a single bird was gobbled up that day.

  A whole group of elegant young girl-cats came to town: white and black and grey and brown girl-cats all dressed up in yellow and red and blue bows. Pelle was down at the station to meet Ingrid and her mother. They were rather tired and dusty after the long journey, and Ingrid’s mama said: ‘First we really must freshen up. It’s quite unbearable walking around feeling so dusty.’

  And so they both sat down on the station steps and started licking their coats with all their might. Pelle pitched in and helped lick Ingrid.

  ‘Nå, now I feel like a cat again,’ said Ingrid’s mama, when she had licked herself for a quarter of an hour.

  Then they took a cab to Ingrid’s mama’s aunt, Mrs Herringlund in Gropgränd Alley, where they were to stay.

  ‘Welcome, welcome!’ said Mrs Herringlund. ‘Hasn’t little Ingrid grown! And what a beautiful coat she has! And so this here is Pelle, jaha. I’ve heard all about him. Welcome, welcome! Let’s have a lick of cream for morning tea!’

  *

  The big spring concert was to take place in a basement on Upper Slottsgatan, and there were crowds of newly licked girl-cats and their equally freshly licked partners. When the Combined Cats’ Community Choir stepped onto the stage, everyone brought their paws together and clapped. Then the choir sang all their songs and Pelle joined in, glancing now and then at Ingrid, who was sitting in the audience with her mother, looking captivated.

  When they had run through their whole program, the audience shouted: ‘Encore, encore! We want an encore!’

  ‘What sort of an encore do they want?’ whispered Pelle to Måns, who was standing next to him.

  ‘You’ll soon see,’ answered Måns, grinning wickedly. And before Pelle knew what was happening, all the cats in the choir had joined hands at a sign from Måns and were dancing in a circle around poor Pelle while they sang:

  Have you seen the cat

  Who doesn’t have a tail?

  A more pathetic puss

  Ne’er seen across the dale!

  Our tails are long and fine

  So happily we dance,

  But we won’t have that No-Tail

  Join us as we prance.

  Did you hear? A rat

  Bit off the poor thing’s tail?

  He battled with the cat

  And yes, he did prevail!

  Now, it’s usually the cat

  Who’ll want to bite the rat,

  But this time he got you!

  So just find another crew!

  It was Måns, of course, who had set it all up. And you can well imagine how smug he looked now, rubbing his paws together delightedly as he saw Pelle standing there in the middle of the circle looking crestfallen while the whole audience laughed.

  ‘Jojo,’ said Måns. ‘That’s what happens to stuck-up cats! And after seeing this, I expect Ingrid will head straight back to Motala, just like that. Then you can go to the Spring Ball on your own. Ha ha ha!’

  But hello! How wrong Måns was! Ingrid was not the sort of girl-cat to be put off. She leapt up from her seat and onto the stage, raising her right paw in a call for silence. Then she said, in clear, plain words that could be heard in the furthest corner of the basement: ‘I think you’re all stupid, laughing at this practical joke. Do you think it’s Pelle’s fault he doesn’t have a tail? You really all ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Especially you, you wicked cat!’ (And she pointed at Måns.) ‘It’s obvious you’re the one who set all this up. Let me tell you that Pelle is the nicest cat in the whole town, and that’s that.’ And then she kissed Pelle right on the nose.

  ‘The girl’s right!’ called out a voice from the crowd. It was Old Maja the Cathedral Cat. ‘The girl’s right! It was stupid of us to laugh!’

  ‘The girl’s right!’ called out one cat after the other. ‘It’s not Pelle’s fault his tail was bitten off!’

  ‘Let’s get Måns!’ somebody shouted.

  ‘We’ll get him!’ shouted the whole crowd. And now what a commotion! The whole audience of cats rushed up onto the stage and launched themselves at Måns. He got his comeuppance, of that you can be sure.

  But Pelle and Ingrid had the best time at the Spring Festival, better than anybody could possibly imagine.

  4

  Summer again!

  And then it was summer again.

  ‘When are you moving to the country?’ Pelle No-Tail asked Måns one day at the start of June when they ran into each other in Gropgränd Alley.

  ‘Moving to the country?’ said Måns, looking fierce. ‘What rubbish are you talking now?’

  ‘It’s not rubbish,’ said Pelle. ‘Tomorrow we’ll be off to the country … Birgitta and Olle, their Mama and Papa, and me. We’ll be catching the train. It’s a very long train ride and I’m going to lie on a cushion in a basket. By the way, have you seen my cushion? It has a fat herring embroidered on it!’

  ‘Well, I’m sick of your bragging,’ said Måns and stared Pelle down.

  ‘Is he bragging again?’ said Bill, who had just stuck a pink nose out of a basement door.

  ‘Hasn’t he stopped bragging yet?’ said Bull, and another pink nose appeared in the basement door.

  ‘He’s worse than ever,’ said Måns. ‘Now he’s moving out to the country, if you please, and lying on a cushion with an embroidered herring on it. I think they should have embroidered a tail onto the cushion instead. As a reminder to a certain cat that he’s missing something.’

  Then Bill and Bull laughed so hard they had to hold their stomachs with their paws, and Måns looked extremely pleased with himself. Pelle licked his nose sheepishly.

  ‘And by the way, Pelle,’ Måns continued, ‘let me tell you that a real cat doesn’t keep haring around the place, here, there and everywhere, strutting about like you do. Me – I’ve always lived in the shed at Åsgränd Alley and that’s where I think I’ll stay, and nobody’s going to make me move to the country in summer, because I’m a city cat, and a city cat should stay in the city, and you can write that down in your notebook if you have one.’

  When Måns had said all that, he looked around to see if any of the others were impressed. Jo, sure enough, Bill and Bull were impressed.

  ‘Wise words!’ said Bill and nodded at Bull.

  ‘Words of wisdom!’ said Bull and nodded back.

  ‘He ought to bear them in mind,’ said Bill.

  ‘It’s something he should try to remember,’ said Bull.

  ‘But,’ said Pelle, holding back tears, ‘surely you can understand that I can hardly wander around the apartment in town all alone when the whole family is going to the country. And anyway, I’m looking forward to meeting up with Big-Stina again. She’s much nicer than any of you. Goodbye!’

  And with that Pelle left. But Måns and Bill and Bull sang after him:

  Have you seen the cat

  Who doesn’t have a tail …?

  *

  Övrabo looked exactly the same as it had last summer. And the kind old cat Big-Stina looked just the same too – only her whiskers were a little greyer.

  ‘I’m probably getting a bit old,’ said Big-Stina to Pelle. ‘To think that just yesterday, I missed out on a wretched rat called Fabian, just as I was about to nab him over by the washhouse. That never used to happen in the old days. Well, Pelle, how is the rat-catching going for you these days?’ asked Big-Stina. ‘I suppose you’re fully qualified now?’

  ‘Miaow, well,’ said Pelle, ‘I don’t exactly get so much practice at home in town, and of course, there’s so much herring to be had that one gets full anyway. So I don’t usually catch any rats, really. The other thing is, we don’t have as many rats in town as you have out here in the country. We mostly have big, nasty-looking rats in our cellars, but he
re you have a plentiful selection to choose from, so to speak.’

  ‘Yes, we’re certainly known for our fieldmice,’ said Big-Stina. ‘They’re not even bashful about making an appearance at the royal cats’ table. I do maintain that a suitably large fieldmouse, washed down with some fresh milk from Övrabo’s finest cows, is the best lunch to be had here in the country.’

  ‘Well, how are all our old friends from last summer?’ asked Pelle. ‘Those funny calves, Brinkeberg and Brunkman, what are they up to these days? Do they still stand in their stall and grumble?’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Big-Stina, and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. ‘Oh no, Brinkeberg and Brunkman have moved away and I don’t suppose we’ll see them again.’

  ‘That’s a shame. Such lovely lads,’ said Pelle. ‘But where did they move to?’

  ‘Ja, who knows,’ sighed Big-Stina. ‘One fine day a couple of fellows just came to fetch them. I hissed at the men and arched my back as much as I could, but they didn’t pay any attention – they just dragged Brinkeberg and Brunkman away and they were mooing so pitifully, it was enough to make you feel quite miserable. I don’t understand,’ said Big-Stina. ‘I must have got something in my eye.’ And once again she wiped at the corner of her eye with her paw.

  ‘There must be something flying about in the air,’ said Pelle, ‘because I’ve also got something in my eye.’ And Pelle used his paw to scratch at the corner of his eye, too.

  Just then, Jonas the stable cat came walking past, along the top of a stone wall.

  ‘Are you two standing there crying?’ said Jonas. ‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen in a long time!’

  ‘Crying!’ said Pelle. ‘Do you think we’re standing here crying on such a sunny day! You’re the foolish one, Jonas! If we’ve got tears in our eyes, it’s only because there are things flying around in the air, surely you can understand that!’

  ‘Jojo,’ said Jonas, in a mocking tone, ‘I get it: sparrows are flying around in the air, and you’re upset because you can’t catch them. Good day to you! I’m off to find myself some lunch now!’

  ‘Jonas is almost as silly as Måns back home,’ said Pelle.

  ‘Jonas is uneducated,’ said Big-Stina. ‘But a cat who lives in the stable can hardly be anything else.’

  5

  Pelle, the ship’s cat

  One day, Birgitta’s brother, Olle, was up rummaging around in the attic at Övrabo, and in among a whole heap of other books, he found an old adventure book called The Desert Island. It was a terribly exciting book and Olle devoured it from the first page to the last. It was about a ship that went down out on the high seas. The whole crew drowned in the angry waves, all but two sailors and the ship’s cat, who saved themselves in a little, miserable excuse of a boat. They drifted for days until the boat came to a deserted island where coconut palms and winding lianas grew. The shipwrecked sailors built themselves a hut and lived there with their cat for several years. They had many terrifying adventures among the monkeys, the enormous lizards and the poisonous snakes – there was no shortage of scary animals on the island.

  That book made a big impression on Olle, and once he had finished it, he started reading it all over again. He read until his eyes were falling out of his head. And Olle’s cousin, Nisse, who was visiting in Övrabo – he read the book too and was just as taken by it as Olle.

  ‘Hey,’ said Nisse, ‘you know what?’

  ‘What?’ said Olle.

  ‘Well,’ said Nisse, ‘you and I can be the two sailors, and Pelle No-Tail can be the ship’s cat, and there are plenty of islands in the lake, and we have a boat, so we can play “Desert Island” whenever we feel like it.’

  ‘But I don’t think Pelle No-Tail is that excited by the lake,’ said Olle.

  ‘Well, he’ll just have to learn to be,’ said Nisse. ‘Anyway, I think you spoil that tailless cat too much. He’s no more special than any other cat …’

  ‘Oh yes, he is a bit,’ said Olle, ‘because he did put out a fire one time.’

  ‘Ja, well, if he did that, then I don’t think he should be scared of water,’ laughed Nisse. ‘We absolutely have to have him as our ship’s cat.’

  ‘Then we’d best get going before anybody else finds out,’ said Olle. ‘Because if Birgitta gets wind of the fact we’re going out on the lake with Pelle, you can bet there’ll be trouble.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Nisse, ‘aren’t auntie and uncle going into town tomorrow?’

  ‘Jooo,’ said Olle. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, then, we leave tomorrow,’ said Nisse secretively. ‘With Pelle, the ship’s cat. To the desert island.’

  *

  Indeed, the following day, Birgitta and Olle’s Mama and Papa went into town.

  ‘Don’t turn the place upside down while we’re gone,’ said Papa. ‘We’ll be back in the evening, and we might well have something tasty for you. What would you like, Pelle?’

  Pelle tilted his head to the side and didn’t say a word.

  ‘Would you like a lollipop?’ asked Papa.

  ‘Mjau,’ said Pelle. ‘Because if I say “no” he’ll be upset,’ he thought. In fact, Pelle was not particularly fond of lollipops. No, better to lick a herring …

  ‘Have you read The Desert Island?’ Olle asked Birgitta, when their Mama and Papa had left.

  ‘Nää!’ said Birgitta. ‘Is it one of those silly boy books?’

  ‘Watch what you say! It’s pretty exciting!’ said Olle. ‘You should start it straight away.’

  Yes, well, as it turned out, Birgitta did start reading the book, and she became just as engrossed as the boys. And that was exactly what Olle had counted on. Birgitta was so immersed in the book that she didn’t notice that the boys had crept quietly down to the lake, managing to cajole Pelle No-Tail into coming with them. They had taken a rucksack with them too, and had packed a bit of ham, a hunk of rye bread and a few biscuits they had found in the pantry.

  Pelle followed them down to the lake happily enough. But when they reached the shore, he didn’t think it was much fun anymore and he would sooner have turned around and gone home.

  ‘Now, we’re going out on the lake, Pelle,’ said Olle. ‘You’re going to be our ship’s cat.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ thought Pelle, looking worried. But without further ado, Nisse took him by the scruff of the neck and plonked him down at the front of the little rowboat. Then both boys climbed in and, each taking an oar, they rowed out to the wild seas. Yes, of course it was only a calm, freshwater lake, but the boys were pretending they were on the high seas. And they pretended, too, that they had been shipwrecked, just like in the book, and now they were heading for the desert island with a bit of ham, some rye bread and five dry biscuits.

  And a ship’s cat.

  6

  The desert island

  The ship’s cat didn’t like it one bit. There was quite a fresh wind and water was splashing over the prow of the boat. It was no fun at all to get wet like that.

  ‘No, I’m definitely not sitting in the bow anymore,’ thought Pelle. ‘Of course, one might perhaps do that, if one were a ship’s cat, but I don’t care, because I do not want to get soaked.’ And Pelle hopped down from the prow and curled up on the floor of the boat.

  ‘Look at that cat!’ said Nisse. ‘He doesn’t dare sit up in the bow. What sort of a ship’s cat is that!’

  ‘It’s a funny thing with cats,’ said Olle, ‘that they’re so scared of water, and yet they’re the cleanest animals in the world.’

  ‘He’s so stupid!’ thought Pelle No-Tail, who heard everything Olle said. ‘You hardly need all that awful water to get clean when you have such a splendid tongue to lick yourself with!’

  It was a big lake with many inlets and coves. When the boys had been rowing for an hour, Olle started to get tired.

  ‘Don’t you think we should land on that little island over there?’ he asked.

  ‘Good idea,’ thought Pelle. ‘I’m getting a bit sick of all thi
s now.’

  But Nisse wanted to keep going. ‘We have to go further,’ he said. ‘Anyway, can’t you see there’s a hut on that little island! And our island has to be deserted!’

  ‘Yes, but we could pretend that island is deserted, just like we’re pretending we’ve been shipwrecked,’ said Olle.

  ‘Good idea,’ thought Pelle again, but Nisse just snorted scornfully.

  ‘If you don’t want to row anymore, then I’ll row on my own,’ he said.

  But no, there was no way Olle was going to be any weaker than Nisse, so Olle clenched his teeth and rowed with renewed strength.

  They rowed for another hour. But finally Nisse said, ‘Now I suppose we can start thinking about going ashore somewhere. That little island over there with the woods and the reeds around it looks good!’

  Something glinted in the water.

  ‘Did you see that?’ said Olle. ‘That was a crocodile!’

  ‘He’s so stupid!’ thought Pelle. ‘That was a pike. Even a kitten could see that!’

  ‘That crocodile will have to be killed before sundown!’ said Nisse solemnly. ‘I’ll cut myself a spear on the desert island, and then … watch out, crocodile! And watch out, all you other wild animals!’

  ‘Can we use the cat to track down any other wild animals?’ wondered Olle.

  ‘Well, what good would he be otherwise?’ said Nisse. ‘Cats are good at picking up scents. In the book, the ship’s cat tracked a giant lizard, and Pelle will have to do that, too.’

  ‘What sort of nonsense are they talking?’ thought Pelle anxiously. What sort of a dreadful adventure had he found himself in?

  In the meantime, the boys rowed up to the little island and drew up alongside a large boulder. Pelle No-Tail was the first to jump ashore. ‘What bliss,’ he thought, ‘to be able to feel solid ground underfoot once more. Now, if there were only one or two easy-to-catch rats on the island, then despite everything, the day might still turn out very well.’