Wobar and the Quest for the Magic Calumet

by Henry Homeyer

  Slowly, Wobar paced off the distance. Since his legs weren’t as long as a man’s, he stretched to take long strides. He stopped when he reached the spot where he thought the pipe should be. Water was bubbling out of a small spring nearby.

  “This is it, Roxie! I think we’ve found the place.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Perseverance Pays Off!

  IN THEIR HURRY to begin the search for the magic pipe, they had forgotten to bring a shovel. But the earth was soft and muddy, and Roxie began digging with her strong forepaws. Wobar stood by waiting as Roxie dug deeper and deeper. Within an hour, the hole was about four feet wide and more than three feet deep.

  “Wobar, I can’t dig much deeper. This hole is filling up with water, and the mud from the sides keeps falling in as fast as I dig it out.”

  “I’ll help,” said Wobar. He took off his shoes, rolled up his pant legs, and stepped into the hole. The hole was knee-deep in water. Roxie jumped out, splashing him.

  Wobar used both hands, cupping them to scoop out the water and loose mud. The mud was gooey, and he couldn’t throw it far from the hole. And as Roxie said, the sides kept falling in. The hole got wider, but didn’t seem to get much deeper. Wobar worked hard, which kept him from getting cold. But after some time, Wobar started to get discouraged. What if he had remembered the map wrong? They could spend days digging holes in the mud for nothing.

  “Come on, Wobar,” said Roxie. “Let’s get out of here. We need buckets and a shovel. This is dangerous, too. You could get trapped in the mud. It’s almost like quicksand.”

  Roxie was right. Wobar’s head was nearly at ground level now. He could be buried alive. He started to climb out, but as he did, the side of the hole caved in. He fell backward and was buried in thick, sticky mud. Just his head was sticking up. He didn’t stop to wonder if he would get out alive. He just started struggling to get up, but without any luck. Roxie lay down on the ground beside the hole and reached down a paw. Finally, Wobar pulled one arm free from the mud and grabbed her paw. With Roxie pulling, Wobar managed to stand up. But he was still waist deep in mud. He shifted his weight and felt something hard with his foot.

  “Roxie! I just felt something with my foot. I think it’s the pipe!”

  Wobar tried to feel for the pipe with his toes, but it slipped away. It was gone, and he was still trapped in the mud. He wasn’t sure, but he sensed that he was sinking deeper the longer he stood there.

  “Maybe you’d better go for help, Roxie. I don’t think I can get out.”

  “But how can I? You’re the only human who can understand the language of cougars, “she said. “I’ll have to dig you out myself.”

  Carefully, Roxie climbed down into the hole. If she got stuck or buried, they wouldn’t have a chance to get out alive.

  For another hour, they worked at trying to get Wobar free. Wobar scooped out mud and water. Roxie dug with her paws, moving mud away from Wobar and toward the other side of the hole. Finally, Wobar was able to move his feet, even though he was still knee-deep in mud.

  Unless the side caves in again, we’ll be all right now,” said Wobar. “I’ll move around trying to feel for the pipe with my toes.”

  “Be careful, Wobar,” urged Roxie. “You were nearly buried alive the first time. We should go back and get help. The sides could collapse again any minute.” She crawled out of the hole.

  Wobar was determined to find the pipe, and he was pretty sure it was in the loose mud at the bottom of the hole. He believed that perseverance always pays off. There was no one he could ask for help. Squish, squish. He moved slowly through the mud, probing for the pipe with his feet.

  “Roxie!” he yelled at last. “I think I’ve got it! I’ve got my foot on something here!” Wobar bent down and stuck his hand deep into the mud. He grabbed the object and slowly pulled it out of the mud. He couldn’t see much, but his hands told the story. It was a pipe. It clearly felt like metal. And he felt an odd vibration coming from the pipe that tickled his fingers.

  “We did it! It’s the pipe!” yelled Wobar. He worked his way to the side of the hole. “Give me a paw and help me up.”

  Roxie helped Wobar up. Just as he got out, the side caved in all at once. Wobar breathed a sigh of relief. He had just escaped.

  “We’ve got it! We’ve got it! We’ve found the magic pipe!” Wobar could have jumped with joy, but he was too tired.

  The sun was just coming up, and the rain had stopped as Wobar and Roxie reached the car. Madame Gazonga was still there, sound asleep. They woke her up.

  “We got it! We found the magic pipe!” That’s all Wobar could say. He fell asleep, repeating it over and over, as they drove toward town.

  CHAPTER 35

  Mr. Longsworth’s Hotel

  WHEN WOBAR GOT back to the hotel, the desk clerk gave him a funny look. He was covered with mud and even had a muddy mustache. But the clerk didn’t say anything. New Orleans is full of people doing crazy things, and he’d probably seen worse. Wobar got to the room, opened the window, and Roxie hopped in off the fire escape.

  As soon as Wobar and Roxie scrubbed up, they went right to bed. They slept for a long time. When they woke up, the sun was shining brightly in their window. It was late afternoon. Roxie yawned, showing off all her teeth.

  “Well, we did it,” said Roxie. “We found the magic calumet.”

  Wobar took the pipe out of its hiding place under the mattress. He had washed off the mud before they went to bed. It was beautiful. It had a long handle decorated with an eagle, a bear, a fox, and an otter. All the animals looked like they were friends. The bear had a kind look on its face, and the eagle carried a ribbon of some sort. None of them looked fierce or warlike.

  “We’ve got the pipe all right,” said Wobar. “But our work isn’t finished yet. Don’t forget that somehow we have to get it to the president of the United States. That might not be easy. I mean, I don’t think we can just walk into the White House and hand it to him. And besides, he lives in Washington, D.C. That’s a long way from here.”

  Roxie let out a groan. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. In fact, neither of them had thought about this part.

  “Maybe we could phone the president and explain what we have,” said Wobar, “Then he would invite us to the White House. He might even send Air Force One to pick us up.”

  “Do you really think he would believe our story?” asked Roxie. “Do you think anyone would believe that we learned about a magic pipe from a ghost named Simon? Or that Madame Gazonga used her crystal ball to help us find it? I don’t think anybody is going to believe that we have a magic silver pipe that can stop wars. I believe that this pipe has powers like no other, but I’m not sure I can convince anyone else. Even if we could get the president of the United States on the phone, which I doubt, would he listen to us? He’d probably think we were crazy.”

  Wobar wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Roxie wanted to let out a loud yowl, but knew someone might hear her, so she didn’t.

  They had found the pipe, but now they couldn’t figure out how to give it to the president. Unless they did, Simon would always remain a ghost, and countries would get in wars every time they squabbled with their neighbors. All their efforts would have been for nothing.

  “Well, let’s go get something to eat,” said Roxie. “I’m starved. We’ll think of something. Maybe in New Orleans they serve rabbit stew. I always think better on a full stomach, anyway.”

  So Wobar and Roxie left the hotel and went to the marketplace near the Mississippi River. Wobar decided to try the local specialties, so he got a muffaletta sandwich for himself and a big piece of fried alligator meat for Roxie, who was waiting outside, back in her disguise as a dog.

  They wandered down the street looking for a quiet place to sit down and eat. Suddenly, Wobar stopped.

  “Look at that hotel, Roxie,” he said.

  “We don’t need a hotel,” snapped Roxie. “I’m hungry and want to find a place where we can eat.”


  “No, you don’t understand,” said Wobar. “That’s the Longsworth Hotel. I bet it’s owned by C. Clement Longsworth, the man we saved in New York. Maybe he would help us. Maybe he would believe our story.”

  Roxie spotted a park just down the street, so they hurried down there to eat. After worrying about alligators last night, Roxie was looking forward to eating one, instead of the other way around. She liked it. It tasted a little like fish. For a moment, she didn’t worry about anything. She gobbled her meal and licked her lips.

  “I think you’re right, Wobar,” said Roxie. “Didn’t the newspaper say that Mr. Longsworth is supposed to be one of the richest men in America? I bet he knows the president.”

  “I bet he does, too. And since we saved him, I’m sure he would at least be willing to try to help us. He’ll probably know what to do.”

  “It’s worth a try,” said Roxie. “And he won’t do anything that will get us in trouble, that’s for sure.”

  So Wobar and Roxie approached the Longsworth Hotel. Wobar tied Roxie’s leash to a parking meter in front of the hotel and went in. He went right up to the front desk.

  “Excuse me,” he said, ”Is this hotel owned by Mr. C. Clement Longsworth?”

  “Of course,” said the man behind the desk.

  “Well, I need to talk to him.”

  “Sorry, but Mr. Longsworth doesn’t live in New Orleans. The main office is in Houston. But he’s in semi-retirement, and he is very rarely in the office. What do you need him for?”

  “I’m a friend,” said Wobar. “Could you please give me his phone number?”

  “No. I can’t give you his home phone number, but I’ll give you a number at the main office. But I wouldn’t count on being able to get in touch with him. He travels a lot and is a very busy man.”

  The man wrote down a number on a piece of paper and gave it to Wobar. Wobar left the hotel feeling pretty discouraged. If he couldn’t talk to Mr. Longsworth, how would they ever get the pipe to the president?

  CHAPTER 36

  Telling All

  WOBAR AND ROXIE went back to their hotel to place the call to Houston. Wobar wasn’t used to making long distance phone calls. He was a little nervous dialing the number.

  “Hello, Longsworth Hotels Incorporated. How may I direct your call?”

  “I’d like to speak to Mr. Longsworth,” said Wobar.

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Longsworth is not available at this time. What is it that you need? Perhaps someone else can help you. Do you have a complaint or a suggestion? I can connect you with Customer Service.”

  “No,” said Wobar. “It’s personal. I’m a friend, or sort of a friend. I really need to talk to him.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s impossible. If you wish to leave your name and number, perhaps he’ll call you back. But you should realize that he is a very busy man. Are you sure someone else couldn’t help you?”

  Wobar left his name and number and hung up. He hoped Mr. Longsworth would remember his name. He hoped he would call back.

  Wobar and Roxie waited for three hours, but the phone didn’t ring.

  “I’m hungry again,” said Roxie. “Let’s go get some food.”

  “No,” said Wobar. We’d better wait here. I would hate to miss the phone call.” If it ever comes, he thought.

  They waited and waited, but the phone didn’t ring. Finally, Wobar gave up, and they went to bed, hungry and disappointed. But Wobar couldn’t sleep. He was busy trying to figure out what to do next. Suddenly, he jumped. The phone was ringing. He turned on the light and grabbed for it.

  “Hello, is this Wobar? This is Mr. Longsworth.”

  Wobar was so excited he could barely think of what to say. “Yes, this is Wobar,” he finally blurted out.

  “I’d like to thank you for saving my life in New York. You are a very brave young man!” said Mr. Longsworth. “But what are you doing in New Orleans? You’re a long way from home.”

  Wobar started from the beginning. He explained about biting his teacher and then running away from home. He told how he met Roxie and how she had been shot. He was afraid Mr. Longsworth wouldn’t believe the part about Simon and the silver pipe, but he did his best to be convincing. Mr. Longsworth listened to it all, their journey from Woodstown to New Orleans, and how they finally found the magic pipe. He never interrupted Wobar once. There was a long pause at the end of Wobar’s tale.

  “Well, that certainly was quite an adventure. What can I do now to help you?” asked Mr. Longsworth.

  “We want to give the peace pipe to the president of the United States. That’s what Simon promised the Indian over two hundred years ago. Could you help us do that?” asked Wobar.

  “Well, I can’t promise a thing. I’ve met the president a few times, and I donated some money to his last election campaign. I’ll see what I can do. I do believe your story about the magic pipe, but I can’t promise that he will. Let’s see, it’s nearly midnight in Washington, so I can’t call tonight. But I’ll call first thing in the morning and see what I can do. In the meantime, try to get some sleep.”

  “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Longsworth.” said Wobar. “That would be the best reward you could ever give us.”

  Roxie and Wobar curled up in bed. Roxie purred quietly as she fell asleep, but Wobar was too excited to get much sleep. It was like the night before Christmas and his birthday rolled into one.

  The sun was barely up when the phone rang. It was Mr. Longsworth.

  “Good morning, Wobar, this is Mr. Longsworth speaking. I’ve got some good news for you. I spoke to the president while he was at breakfast this morning and explained about the silver pipe. He’s a little skeptical about the story, but said he would do anything to achieve world peace. He can see you this afternoon at four. I told him you’d be there.”

  “That’s terrific!” Then Wobar paused to think. Washington was a long way from New Orleans. “But how in the world will I ever get to Washington by tonight? It took us days to get here.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Wobar. I’ll have a driver come by to pick you up. I’ll fly over from Houston in my private jet and get you. And Roxie, too. After all, without Roxie I would have died in the fire. We’ll meet the president together, and you can present him with the magic pipe.”

  Wobar thanked Mr. Longsworth and hung up. He could barely believe his good luck! He really would be able to present the magic calumet to the president of the United States!

  CHAPTER 37

  The Presidential Medal

  FOR WOBAR AND Roxie, the hand of the clock seemed to move in slow motion. Mr. Longsworth said someone would come by to pick them up and take them to the airport at one o’clock. Wobar gave Roxie a bath. He decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so he painted her to look like a Dalmatian, even though he hoped there would be no trouble traveling with a cougar.

  Wobar went out and bought all new clothes—shirt, pants, and even a new pair of shoes. He wanted to look spiffy to meet the president. Buying the new clothes used up most of the money they had left, which made him a little nervous.

  They were both very hungry, so Wobar brought back a big order of fried chicken. But he gave most of his to Roxie because he was too excited to eat much. Roxie always had a good appetite, and she ate it, bones and all.

  The limousine came right on time. The driver had been told that Roxie was going to ride with him, but he still looked a little bit nervous. He kept the glass closed between the front and back of the limo. When they arrived at the airport, he opened the door and directed them toward the waiting room for passengers of private planes.

  “You must be Wobar,” said the man at the desk. “We’ve been waiting for you. Mr. Longsworth just called, and his jet will be here shortly.”

  Moments later, they saw a small jet taxi up to the terminal where they were waiting. It stopped, and Mr. Longsworth got out and came inside.

  “Good afternoon, Wobar,” he said. “I’m so glad to meet you. And that must be your fr
iend Roxie, the cougar. She’s a fine-looking animal. But why is she painted like that?” Roxie sat and put out her paw to shake hands with Mr. Longsworth.

  “That’s her disguise, Mr. Longsworth. She’s supposed to look like a firedog, you know, a Dalmatian. It’s so no one will think I’m traveling with a wild animal. People tend to get nervous when they see a cougar. We do it to keep out of trouble.”

  Mr. Longsworth smiled. “I dare say you’ve had your share of trouble, disguise or no,” said

  Mr. Longsworth. “But all that’s over. From here on, I’ll take care of everything. Let’s go. My plane is waiting.”

  They left the terminal and got on the plane. The flight attendant explained that everyone had to wear a seat belt, even cougars. So Roxie sat up in the seat, and Wobar attached her seat belt.

  The flight to Washington was uneventful. it was a smooth ride, and Roxie didn’t get sick. A big black limousine was waiting for them when they arrived. The president had sent it from the White House. They were a little early, and Roxie had a request for Wobar.

  “Do you think we could go to our hotel first, before we meet the president? I feel silly all painted to look like a dog. I’m a cougar and proud of it. If I’m going to meet the president, I want to look like a cougar.”

  Wobar explained the situation to Mr. Longsworth, who told the driver to go by the Longsworth Hotel. For once, Roxie didn’t have to sneak up the fire escape. They were expected at the hotel, and a suite was ready for them. Wobar gave Roxie a quick bath, dried her off, and they were ready to meet the president. Roxie looked at herself in the mirror and quickly groomed her whiskers. She knew she was a very handsome animal.

  Their limousine arrived at the White House right on time. They were ushered inside and took a seat outside the Oval Office. The security people kept staring at Roxie, and Wobar overheard them discussing whether a wild animal of that size should be allowed to get near the president. Wobar’s exceptional hearing allowed him to hear the guards talking about his mustache, too, wondering if he was really just a boy. Just then the president opened the door to the Oval Office.