The situation was not only awkward and embarrassing for poor Slim but also pretty dangerous. Your ordinary dogs would have done nothing to help. They would have just hung there, worrying about saving their own skins.
Me? I’ve always aimed for a higher standard, don’t you know, and I’ve always been the kind of dog who cares deeply about the health and welfare of his human friends. What I did next was very risky, extremely dangerous and hazardous and . . . okay, courageous, let’s go ahead and say it. I had to take bold action.
Risking life and limb (life and limb, get it?), I dared to shoot out my tongue and give poor Slim a lick on the nose, just to let him know that . . . hey, there was someone on the ranch who really cared.
My goodness, I think he . . . uh . . . missed the point. I mean, I was just trying to . . . you know what he did? All at once he clenched his teeth and his eyes bulged out so far that I could see twenty-three blood vessels in the white part.
And then he hissed, “Hank, if I get out of here alive . . . !”
Gee whiz, sometimes I get the feeling that it’s impossible to please these people. I mean, you knock yourself out to . . .
All at once, the wind picked up again, a cool damp breeze coming from the southwest. The limb rocked back and forth, wider and wider, and on every swing, we could hear the squeak of the broken hinge.
Creak, creak, creak!
Then we were shaken by a big clap of thunder, so loud that it caused the wild turkeys to start gobbling down along the creek. (Was that some kind of clue? Don’t forget about the Murphy Turkey Case.)
Pretty scary, huh? It got worse.
A big raindrop splatted me on the face. And then another. Good grief, it was starting to rain!
And from somewhere above me, I could hear the voice of an insane buzzard. “Jump, pooch! It ain’t the fall that kills you, it’s the sudden stop, ha ha! Junior, did you bring any salt and pepper?”
“P-p-pa, y-you ought to b-b-be ash-ash-ashamed of yourself.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t. Stand by for grub, son!”
The rain fell harder. My claws were getting wet. I could feel them slipping and losing their grip on the limb.
Down below, I could see Loper and Sally May and Alfred. They stared at me with wide, terror-filled eyes, and you know what? They were all upside down!
I was slipping . . . slipping . . . slipping . . .
I lost my grip.
I fell.
And I guess that’s the end of the story.
Sorry.
Chapter Twelve: Does It End Happily or in Tragedy?
Hey, I’ve already told you that the story’s over. It ended in a tragic accident, when I plunged out of a huge cottonwood tree and blasted a six-foot crater in the ground below.
So how come you turned the page and went looking for another chapter?
Heh heh.
Okay, maybe this didn’t turn out to be the Absolute End of my long and glorious career, and maybe I didn’t get splattered all over the ranch. But I came real close.
Here’s what happened, and this is the straight scoop. Loper, Sally May, and Little Alfred were standing at the base of the tree, remember? And they were staring up at me and Slim, and they were too shocked and scared to move.
Oh, and don’t forget that they were standing upside down. Or seemed to be.
Well, when Loper saw that I was slipping and losing my grip on the limb, he said, “Grab the blanket!”
The limb, the precious limb, slipped out of my claws and I plunged four thousand feet toward the hard ground below. As I heard the air rushing past my ears and waited for the terrible crunch that would end it all, my thoughts flew back over the years of my life and I saw the faces of all the many women and lady dogs who had loved and adored me . . .
Missy Coyote, Miss Scamper the Beagle, that cute Irish Setter in Twitchell, Trudy the Cocker Spaniel, and . . . sigh . . . yes, there she was, a glowing vision in the back of my mind—the lovely, incomparable Miss Beulah the Collie!
Ah, sweet Beulah! Her life would be a struggle, without me, but maybe she would find the courage to . . .
PLOP!
I blinked my eyes and looked up into three faces above me: Loper, Sally May, and Little Alfred. Holy smokes, you’ll never believe . . .
Get this. Somehow they had turned themselves right-side up, snatched the blanket up, pulled it tight, and moved it into the path of my fatal plunge! No kidding, and I had landed right in the middle of their safety net! Oh happy day! And now . . .
Gee whiz, wasn’t anybody going to celebrate? I mean, they just dropped the blanket, forgot about the Head of Ranch Security, and now they were all staring up at . . . okay, Slim’s situation was still pretty grim. I mean, there he was, hanging upside down and clutching a limb that was swinging back and forth in the wind. Wide, wild swings.
And nobody had the slightest idea how to help him!
Loper’s eyes darted around. “Hon, what can we do?”
Sally May gave her head a shake. “I don’t know. I don’t think the blanket would break his fall, would it?”
Loper shook his head. “Slim, if we ran to the house and pulled a mattress off a bed, could you hang on until we got back?”
Slim shook his head, causing his hat to fall to the ground. “Don’t think so. I’m losing my grip.”
Loper chewed his lip and thought. “What if I drove the pickup around and parked it right here? If you landed on the top of the cab, it might break your fall.”
“Or my neck. But I guess you could try. Just hurry!”
Loper made a dash for the pickup. Could Slim hang on? We waited in the deadly, brittle silence—only it wasn’t really a silence, because now we could here the roar of a gigantic storm coming down the Wolf Creek valley.
Up in the tree, Slim said, “If that storm hits, I won’t be able to . . .”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but we all knew what he meant.
I darted my gaze around our sad little group. Little Alfred buried his face in Sally May’s dress. Sally May’s gaze fell to the ground, she just couldn’t watch. And Drover—he had collapsed and covered his eyes with his paws, worthless to the end.
The roar of the storm came closer and closer, a terrible roaring sound.
Loper dived into the pickup and hit the starter. The motor turned over . . . and over . . . and over. We heard Loper yell, “Start, you piece of junk!”
But it didn’t start. The motor had flooded. Or something. What do I know about motors? It didn’t start, that’s all I can tell you, and it wasn’t my fault.
Loper leaped out of the pickup and came running back to the tree. “It won’t start, Slim! Hang on, maybe we’ll think of something!”
Well, someone had to take charge, make some decisions, and provide some leadership to save our friend. This was a job for the Head of Ranch Security.
I took a gulp of air and stepped forward, and there, in front of everyone, I took the kind of bold action we so desperately needed.
I barked.
Yes sir, I barked! And this was no ordinary barking. These were the kind of deep thunderous barks we save for the very seriousest and emergenciest—for the very most serious of emergency situations. These were the kind of barks that have such a powerful recoil, they knock a dog back three steps on every shot.
Oh, you should have seen me! I barked the base of the tree, I barked the top of the tree, and I even barked encouragement to poor Slim. And then, with the roar of the storm coming straight at us, I even turned and dared to bark at the storm itself!
A lot of dogs wouldn’t have had the nerve to do that—stand their ground, face the roar of the terrible storm, and fire barks right into the middle of it. But I did. And you know what?
It worked.
I saved Slim!
You don’t believe me? You think I�
�m just making it up? Ha! Listen to this.
Okay, the storm was bearing down on us, right? Roaring down the valley, and we’re talking about a dark curtain of rain, exactly the kind of rain that could wash a grown man right out of a tree.
Did I run and hide? Did I quiver and moan? No sir. I stiffened my back and fired off round after round of Anti-storm Barkings. Those barks were so powerful, they penetrated the dark rolling clouds and actually . . .
This is the good part, so pay close attention.
Those barks went up into the clouds and gave them such a shake, it shook loose a bolt of lighting. No kidding. Honest. And that bolt of lightning came crashing down from the sky, struck the tree with a huge BOOM, and cut it in two!
Yes sir, it was the old Lightning Trick, and I’d saved it for exactly this kind of emergency. It cut the tree smooth in half, and the half that Slim was in just . . . sank to the ground!
It didn’t fall. It didn’t crash to the ground. It just sank and landed as softly as . . . something. A feather drifting down to earth, I suppose.
Old Slim blinked and looked around with big round eyes. He struggled to his feet, picked up his hat, and slapped it on his head. And then, would you believe that he turned to me and said, “Hank, you just saved my life. Why, if you hadn’t called down that bolt of lightning, I’d have been buzzard bait. I’ll personally see that you get a hero’s reward for this.”
Can you believe that? Well, don’t bother trying, because it never happened. It should have, and in a perfect world, it would have. But, to be honest, Slim didn’t have time to say much of anything, because just then, the storm hit—wind, sheets of rain, thunder, lightning, the whole nine yards.
Slim and the others made a dash for the house, and Drover and I took cover in the calf shed. There, as we watched the water pouring off the tin roof, I told Drover the whole story. He’d missed it all, you know, because he’d been too much of a weenie to watch.
He was very impressed. “You mean . . . gosh, you did all that? All by yourself?”
“That’s correct. I hated to take such drastic measures, but knocking that lightning out of the clouds was our last chance to save Slim. It had to be done.”
“Wow! Maybe you can teach me how to bark like that.”
I gave the little mutt a fatherly smile. “Maybe so, Drover, maybe so.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his yipping and squeaking would never work on one of your major spring thunderstorms.
And that’s about all the story. The next day, the cowboys cranked up their chain saws and cut up the tree into firewood. Captain Alfred lost his ship and also his command, and got a stern lecture from his momma about playing Pirate Ship in trees.
Did I get any medals of honor, decorations, or even extra dog food for saving Slim’s life? No, but that wasn’t exactly a surprise. When you’re Head of Ranch Security, you do your job and go on with life, knowing that good work is its own reward.
To tell you the truth, I’m not sure that Slim ever made the connection between my Heroic Barking Episode and lightning striking the tree. Can you believe that?
There are so many things that humans don’t understand.
Oh well. I had saved Slim’s life, that’s what really mattered, even if he never knew it or thanked me for it.
The storm passed and the ranch returned to its normal sounds and rhythms. By six o’clock that evening, Drover and I were back to work on another case. See, we’d noticed that the wild turkeys were behaving in a very suspicious manner—one big tom turkey in particular. We noticed that he was lurking around the gas tanks, see, and I sent Drover out on a very important mission to—
Have we discussed this case before? I don’t think so, but there’s something familiar . . . hmmm. Anyway, Drover returned with the shocking news: the turkeys were plotting a rebellion, led by a secret agent named Murphy! He had penetrated our security . . .
But that’s another adventure, and we’ll take it up another time.
Case closed.
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 Hank 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.
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The Case of the Shipwrecked Tree Page 7