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Once Whiskerandos came home in high spirits. He had made such a discovery, found such treasures, – been in the very place where of all others a rat might rejoice in boundless content.
Directly behind the Exchange he had found a large open space, fenced round with iron railing, which, while keeping out man, offered everywhere a door of welcome to rats. Here, protected by nothing but tarpaulin, was collected a quantity of goods, both those which had been imported into Russia, and those with which she paid back from her own productions the contributions of the world.
“Oh, the mountains of tallow which I saw there!” exclaimed Whiskerandos, executing a somerset in the air, in the excess of his admiration and delight.
“There may well be mountains, brother,” observed Wisky, “since, besides the quantities which she uses herself, Russia is said to export every year about two hundred and fifty millions of pounds of tallow, of which above one half is shipped from St. Petersburg.”
“Two hundred and fifty millions!” I exclaimed, almost breathless with amazement, “why, surely that is enough to light up the whole world, and feast every rat that is in it! I would give anything to see the place where such glorious mountains are to be found?”
“Trust yourself with me to-morrow night, and I will guide you to the place,” said Whiskerandos.
Now commenced a conflict in my mind, caution pulling me one way, curiosity the other, while a discussion took place between my comrades, Wisky backing caution, Whiskerandos curiosity, – and the English rat won the day.
So that night off we two scampered together, and without accident or adventure reached the space at the back of the Exchange. Truly I was in a world of wonders! I actually revelled in everything that can charm the palate or the nose of a rat! Here was the division for Russian imports, – various and curious were they. There were chests of tea from China, coffee from Arabia, sugar from the West Indies, and English cotton goods, bales on bales piled up to a marvellous height. There was a quantity of tobacco, heaps of cheese, spices of all sorts and kinds. Now we came upon the odour of cinnamon or cloves; then the strong perfume of musk betrayed an importation from India.
No wonder that the hours passed unheeded while we lingered in this wonderful place! We passed on to the portion of the area devoted to Russian exports, and here we were, if possible, still more delighted! All the articles which Bright-eyes had mentioned as coming from Russia were here; we were bewildered amongst heaps of furs, piles of leather, barrels of tallow, and prodigious quantities of corn! Morn was breaking, indeed, but we could not tear ourselves away, till the sounds of life, and the signs of motion around us, alarmed me with the idea that it was too late to retreat.
“Let’s bury ourselves in this corn-sack,” cried I, “we can sleep here very well during the day, and recommence our explorations after dark.”
Whiskerandos acceded to my proposition. Quiet we kept, very quiet. Noisier the world seemed to grow, till at length voices were heard so alarmingly near, that I crouched closer to my companion in terror!
Then – oh! the horrible sensation which I experienced, – never shall I forget it! I felt that our sack was roughly pushed by some one, then suddenly lifted on high!
“We are lost!” I gasped to Whiskerandos. Then another sort of motion succeeded, accompanied by a heavy rumbling sound, like that of the rolling wheel of a truck. Every hair of mine quivered with fear!
“Whiskerandos! oh, Whiskerandos! if they should be carrying us to a mill! – if we should be ground into powder between two great stones!”
“Be quiet and never despair,” was the answer of the bold-hearted rat.
I believe that that terrible journey did not last long, but to me the time appeared an age! Every turn of the grating wheel beneath me sent a pang of anguish through my frame! At last the truck, if such it were, stopped; in a few minutes the sack was again rudely moved, carried aloft, and then tumbled, with its living contents, down – down – we could not tell where!
What a shock it gave me, that tumble! I lay for some seconds quite stunned. My first impulse, when I recovered a little, was bitterly to bewail my condition, and to reproach him who had brought me into it.
“Oh that I had been content with my kwas and my shtshee! Oh that I had never left the kitchen! that I had never ventured forth with a reckless companion, who would, I believe, play at hide and seek with a cat, or nibble at the pocket of a rat-catcher!”
My tone was, I knew, both peevish and provoking; and many a brown rat, in the position of my companion, would have stopped my doleful squeaking at once by giving me something to squeak for. But Whiskerandos, whatever were his faults, was above that mean one of quarrelling with those who found them out, or attempting to screen and defend them.
“Ratto, I am sorry that I have led you into trouble,” said he. “I wish that I could suffer alone for my self-will and imprudence. But since no regrets can recall the past, let us not make our miseries greater by reproaches and dissension between those who may soon die, as they have lived, together.”
His mildness quite overcame any feeling of bitterness in my heart; and hope revived as some time elapsed without fresh cause for alarm occurring.
“I wonder where we are!” exclaimed I, shaking myself into a more easy position.
“I fancy that I hear the creaking of a windlass!” cried Whiskerandos.
“And the flapping of canvass!” added I. “And I smell tar.”
“A strong odour of tar! Depend upon it, we are down in the hold of a ship!”
“Ha! that’s the ripple of water! she moves, – she moves!”
We were again afloat on the waters!
CHAPTER XIX
A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
“Farewell St. Petersburg, stately city! with thy flat green roofs, and star-spangled domes! Farewell merry-hearted, sandy-haired Russians, bearded Tartars, gay Circassians, – never may we behold you again! Farewell kwas and shtshee, and all the luxuries for too brief a time enjoyed! Where are we going now, – where!”
Such were the complaints which I was wont to pour out during the long tedious voyage which succeeded. Whiskerandos never grumbled, it was not in his nature; he quietly fed on his corn without uttering one melancholy word: but I suspected that he, like myself, associated sailors with rat pies; and to hear any one approach the hold, drove me almost wild with terror.
That was a horrible voyage! A fearful tempest came on before the vessel readied the place of her destination, whatever that might be. The winds whistled and raged, and the ship reeled and plunged like a restive horse; and again and again torrents of salt water came sweeping down into the hold! Then, as the furious storm continued, the very seams of the ship seemed to open like pores, to let in the sea, which was knocking and raging without for admittance, till at length the hold became like a ditch, which we rats could not cross but by swimming!
Then the pumps were set to work – I could hear the men toiling at them day and night; yet the water gained on them notwithstanding their efforts. There were tremendous noises on deck; I fancied once or twice that I could distinguish human cries; and what with the constant splashing of the water as the vessel rolled heavily from side to side, and the bumping and thumping of some casks that had got loose, and were smashing against one another, and the shouting, and the roaring of wind and waves, there was enough to stun and terrify any creature, be he quadruped or biped!
Such of the corn as remained in our sack was becoming so soft from salt water that it had acquired the consistence of a pudding. But we had now no heart even to eat!
We had so often heard the captain’s voice raised to give loud orders, that we had ceased to pay any particular attention to them, little dreaming that any would concern us further than as they regarded the safety of the vessel. But at length the result of an order to lighten the ship was speedily felt in the hold! Our sack (for we still made it our hiding-place) was suddenly lifted with others; and before we had time even to guess what was intended, splash we went into the sea!
Ugh! how the water bubbled in our ears! What frantic efforts we made to free ourselves from the sack! Nor were those efforts without success, for we had long ago gnawed the string which fastened its mouth: it opened with the motion of the waves, and corn, rats and all, floated upon the surface of the raging billows!
Down in two seconds went the corn, swallowed up by the sea; still we struggled, drowning rats that we were, to save ourselves by desperate swimming. Of course our strength must soon have been exhausted, and the mighty green waves must have swept us to destruction, had not a barrel, thrown out from the ship, been happily floating near us!
Whiskerandos saw this little island of hope. As for me, I was too much frightened and confused to look around me; but I instinctively followed where he led, and soon found myself, shivering, shaking, dripping with wet, and looking as wretched as a rat can look, on the floating barrel beside my friend!
How we shook our glistening sides, and shuddered and gazed disconsolately round us on the wide waste of waters, lashed into long streaks of angry foam! Alas! there was no land in sight; but then the white mist rested on the horizon, which shut out the distant view.
“If we are not drowned we shall be starved!” exclaimed I, very piteously, to Whiskerandos. Alas! our barrel was empty.
Oh! the misery endured that day, and the terrible night which succeeded! We had no resource but to gnaw at the tasteless wood. We were surrounded with water, yet perishing with thirst! pinched by hunger, without hope of relief! Better to have been drowned at once; better to have fallen by the paw of a mouser, or to have been caught like my brothers in a trap, than to be dying thus by inches on a barrel, tossed in the midst of the sea!
But with the gray morning hope dawned! We perceived that our little island had drifted near to some shore. The waves were now much more quiet, and leapt on the beach with a pleasant murmur, and strove to roll on, each farther than the other, like children merrily racing together.
“Could we not swim to the shore?” said Whiskerandos.
But I recoiled from the dangerous attempt. “No, no; some wave will roll the barrel on the beach,” I replied; “no more struggling in the water for me!”
And the waves, bearing the barrel on their green backs, seemed often ready to land it safely on shore, but each time changed their minds, and kept it bobbing up and down, while they retired back with a grating noise over the pebbles, as if mocking our distress and impatience.
“We are farther off now than we were ten minutes ago,” said Whiskerandos. “Perhaps the tide is on the turn. Pluck up a brave heart, and let’s dash in like rats!” and he plunged fearlessly into the water.
But for the sharp spur of hunger, I fear that I should have left him to make the bold attempt alone; but, famished as I was, I resolved to swim for my life. With a sudden effort I sprang into the waves; and so, following in the wake of my companion, I struggled in safety to the shore!
Oh! the delight of feeling dry ground again! – of standing once more on the firm, solid earth! Never, never again, I firmly resolved, would I venture in any vessel, or trust my life to the mercy of the billows that had so nearly accomplished our destruction.
CHAPTER XX
CATCH HIM – DEAD OR ALIVE!
We made a hasty breakfast off a star-fish that we found stranded on the beach; but this rather increased our painful thirst, and to find some means of quenching it we hurried inland at the utmost speed which our weakened powers could command. We had not run far before we came to a large house.
“There is sure to be a supply of water here,” said Whiskerandos. “Let us explore the place.”
“I fancy that I hear a dripping!” I cried eagerly, as we approached the door of the back-yard.
The door was indeed closed, and sharp bits of broken bottles, on the top both of it and the brick wall, rendered it impossible to climb over them; but I – my wit quickened by my painful thirst – discovered in a moment that, at the bottom of the door, part of the wood had been broken away, either by time or perhaps the teeth of our brethren, leaving an opening just large enough for a rat easily to creep through.
I was not one to venture on an unexplored region, so I looked anxiously through into the yard.
At the opposite side of it there was – oh, joyful sight! – a pump, from which drop by drop fell, with a most inviting sound, into a trough below. And yet, faint with thirst as I was, the place had an aspect which alarmed me, and made me fear to venture across the yard. Not far from the pump, and between it and us, was an open green door, which led into a garden or pleasure-ground, and though I could see nothing to alarm me, my quick ear distinguished suspicious sounds in that direction.
“In with you!” exclaimed Whiskerandos, impatiently. “Don’t keep me here, dying with thirst at the hole.”
I drew back with a gesture of caution. “Whiskerandos,” said I, “I don’t like the green door open yonder. If any one came through it into the yard and cut off our retreat!”
“Nothing dare, nothing win!” he exclaimed; “I am thirsty and I must have water:” and, hurrying through the little opening which I have mentioned, he was soon eagerly drinking at the trough.
Hesitating, doubting, I was about to follow him, and already my nose was through the hole, when a sight, at the remembrance of which I shudder still, made me withdraw it instanter. Through the fatal green door near the pump, a young man, with his hands in his pockets and his cap cocked on one side, followed by several dogs, leisurely sauntered into the yard.
I saw in an instant that for Whiskerandos escape was impossible. He had the whole length of the yard to cross; his foes were far nearer to him than me. His only chance was that of not being perceived; but this in broad daylight, with the noses of three or four dogs not two yards from him, was a miserable chance indeed. The dogs instantly found him out, and were at him in a moment. My unhappy companion darted behind the trough, quick as a flash of lightning. I felt assured that he would there bravely defend himself to the last; but what could one poor rat do, albeit the boldest of his race, against such terrible odds!
“Ha! a rat!” exclaimed the young man, looking quite amused and pleased – barbarian that he was! – at the prospect of seeing a poor defenceless creature torn to pieces before him. “Ha! Carlo, give it him! – shake him by the ear!” The young man actually laughed aloud with delight!
I could not see Whiskerandos, for the trough was between us: I fancied his look of fierce despair as he faced the foes from whom he could not flee, and from whom he could expect no pity. He had evidently got into some corner, from which the dogs could not easily dislodge him; for they stood yelping and barking, showing their white teeth, with their greedy eyes all turned to one point.
So the human savage came to their aid. Having taken up a stick which happened to be lying on the ground near, while the dogs retired a step to allow their master to give his ungenerous assistance, he pushed the stick behind the trough, and by its means dragged poor Whiskerandos from his last place of refuge!
“Ha! the fellow’s dead! I must have killed him with the stick!” cried the young man; and stooping down he lifted up the poor rat by the tail, and held him aloft to examine him more closely, while the dogs leapt and barked around, eager to tear their victim limb from limb!
“He’s been in the wars – lost his ears!” laughed the young man, still holding the stiffened body on high by the tail. “I’m sorry I poked him with the stick; he’d have given us some sport with the dogs!” Did ever such a heartless monster walk on two feet before!
“Oh! Whiskerandos! Whiskerandos!” thought I, as, almost rooted to the spot with horror, I stood gazing on the pitiful sight. “I am glad that you are dead! oh, I am glad that you are dead! bravest, noblest of rats, they can torture you no more!”
The dogs showed by their impatient movements that they considered that their master took a great deal too much time in his survey of a lifeless rat I suspect that he only did so to tease and tantalize them, for suddenly raising Whiskerandos still higher, to give more force to his fling, he cried, “Now Carlo – Rover – Cæsar – who’s first!” and swung the body away towards the door behind which I stood a trembling, shuddering spectator!
But lo and behold! no sooner did the seemingly dead rat touch the ground, than he found life, strength, and speed in a moment! The dogs were after him like the wind, but the very force of the fling had given him a good start, and he was through the opening under the door, knocking me over as he pushed past, almost before I could recall my scattered senses sufficiently to understand that he was actually alive! I have some remembrance of the young man’s exclamation of amazement as the dead rat found his feet and disappeared, – his shout, and the yells of the disappointed dogs, – but I recollect no more, for I heard no more. Whiskerandos and I had a fair start, and we made the best of it, and scampered off as rats scamper for their lives. Well for us that that door was locked! – well for us that there were broken bits of bottles on the top! well for us that the hole was too small for the passage of any thing larger than a rat!
I do not think that we were pursued: perhaps the unlocking of the door took our foe too much time, perhaps he did not think it worth while to hunt down such ignoble game, or perhaps he considered (but this I much doubt) that the cleverness which a rat had shown in making so extraordinary an escape, entitled him to a little indulgence. But we ran as though a whole pack of hounds were behind us; we never paused to take breath or look behind us, till we had buried ourselves in a corn-field.
“And are you really unhurt?” I exclaimed, when we stopped at last, panting and exhausted.
“Unhurt? yes! – only bruised by the fling, – it was well that the yard was not paved with stones.”
“And you were really alive and had your senses while that savage was holding you up with your head hanging down! Why, you looked as like a dead rat as ever I saw one!”
“I was wide awake all the time,” said Whiskerandos, “but I knew that it was my only chance to feign death. This has been a narrow escape, Ratto; I was never so near being torn to pieces before, not even in my fight with the ferret!”
“I’ll never go near a house in daylight again!” exclaimed I, still trembling with excitement and terror. Whiskerandos appeared to feel the effects of the fright less than I did, though his danger had been so much greater.
“It is your thirst that makes you so nervous,” said he; “you have not yet recovered from our voyage on the barrel. There seems to be a wet ditch around this field; come and moisten your nose in the water.”
The relief was certainly great, and as I drank the cool liquid, I felt my spirits revive.
“I wonder where we are now!” said I.
“I have no doubt on the subject, – we are in old England again! The look of the house, the hedges, the fields, that young fellow – ”
“Oh! don’t speak of him!” I exclaimed, “cruel, barbarous monster that he is!”
“You are too hard on him,” said Whiskerandos, in his own frank, good-humoured manner. “He may be no worse than the rest of his species, who think that there is no harm in being cruel to a rat. I suspect that even your blue-eyed friend would shout with joy to see a cat worry a mouse!”
“I don’t believe it!” I replied indignantly; “a generous and noble heart can never take pleasure in seeing pain inflicted on a poor defenceless creature!”
“Ah, but – ” Whiskerandos commenced, but our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a little squeak from the hedge close behind us.
“I think that I know that voice!” exclaimed I, and I had hardly uttered the sentence ere from the thick covert sprang the well-remembered form of Bright-eyes!
CHAPTER XXI
A NEW KIND OF WATCH-DOG
What a rubbing of noses ensued! after all my travels and perils it was such joy to see again the face of a friend! I had so much also to relate, (I have ever been a loquacious rat,) that I almost lost breath in my long narration. I wound up my account with a description of the last adventure of Whiskerandos, who was now, in my eyes, ten times more a hero than before.
“And now that I have told you my news,” said I, “let’s hear a little of yours. In the first place, where is old Oddity?”
Bright-eyes hung down his head, and drooped his long tail in a touching and melancholy manner. Such conduct in so lively a rat showed me at once that my last surviving brother was dead!
“How did it happen?” was all that I could say.
“Not a week after our arrival in these parts, he was caught in a hay-rick by a farmer!” faltered Bright-eyes. “I saw him seized by the neck, I heard his despairing cry; I could not stay to see the poor fellow killed, and I was afraid of sharing his fate, so I made off as fast as I could.”
“Poor Oddity!” sighed I very mournfully, “never was there an uglier nor a better-hearted rat! Ah! what pleasure I vainly promised to myself in relating to you all my adventures! I have been across the deep waters, encountered various perils, now in danger of being cooked in a pie, now shivering on a barrel in the ocean, and yet here am I safe and sound after all; while you, remaining quietly in England, have ignominiously perished in a hay-rick!”
Whiskerandos, who, being a brown rat, could not be expected to feel the same regret as myself, now turned towards Bright-eyes, and asked him how far we were from London – “For I long to be back in my old quarters,” said he.
“A fortnight’s journey for a rat, should he travel by land,” replied Bright-eyes: “we came down very comfortably in a river boat, which carried us to within five miles of this spot.”
“I have had enough of water for some time,” said Whiskerandos; “and now that the fields are full of ripe corn, and the gardens of fruit, nothing so pleasant as a journey by land! What say you, friend Ratto?” inquired he.
“I have no mind for a long journey either by land or by sea,” replied I in a melancholy tone; “I’ll keep company with you for a day or two, Whiskerandos, but I would rather not return now to London. I will settle quietly for a time in the country near the spot where poor Oddity died!”
“And you?” said Whiskerandos, turning to Bright-eyes.
The lively rat shook his ears with all his natural vivacity. “Pardon me,” he cried, “but I’m of Oddity’s opinion, – heroes like Sir Whiskerandos are the very worst travelling companions in the world! How Ratto has escaped with his life I cannot imagine, but I shall certainly not try the experiment of following your fortunes for an hour! I’ve no fancy to be baked in a pie, or starved on a barrel, crushed by a drosky, or worried by a dog, drowned in a sack, or suspended by my tail! No, no, valiant Whiskerandos, I’m quite content to admire your courage at a distance, but I don’t want to share your exploits, and would rather have my ears than your fame!”
And off skipped the merry little rat, before we could say a word to stay him.
Whiskerandos and I, being weary enough with the adventures through which we had passed, slept for the greater part of that day in the field, and wandered about during the night in a not vain search for food.
The next day was remarkably hot. It was the season of harvest, and we felt the necessity of keeping quietly concealed, as many men, and women also, were busily engaged in the fields. The heat, however, produced thirst, and no water was near in which we could quench it.
“I say, Ratto,” observed Whiskerandos, “do you see yonder object, near that sheaf, that glitters so brightly in the sun?”
“It is a can,” replied I, “doubtless belonging to one of the reapers.”
“I should not wonder if there were a hunch of bread and cheese beside it,” said Whiskerandos.
“I should not be surprised if there were.”
Whiskerandos remained for a minute in silence, then said, “I want to compare English beer with Russian kwas.”