“Come along!” urged the frog as he bounced along the trail. “What are you waiting for? Do you think we have all day? Come along, I say! Come along!”
Elmwood gathered himself, quickening his pace to match that of the leaping frog.
“We don’t have far to go now,” the frog continued. “Yes…in fact, I can just make out the edge of Slinky’s home.” He paused a moment to look behind him at the stumbling young chipmunk. Slowly he smiled to himself. He’d brought unknowing prizes—er, friends—such as this to Slinky before, and the rewards had always been more than generous. “Hurry up, little one.” he prodded. “You do want to get home, don’t you?”
Elmwood cringed. Of course he wanted to get home! Gosh! What kind of thing was that to say? It was the most important thing in the world to him! His eyes began to water as he yet again realized just how much his family meant to him, and how much he loved and missed them. He couldn’t wait to get home! That old frog didn’t know what he was talking about!
These thoughts and more were racing through Elmwood’s troubled mind when all of a sudden the frog stopped dead in his tracks, causing Elmwood to again stumble and crash into him from behind.
“Hey!” bellowed the frog. “Watch where you’re going, okay? What are you trying to do? Stomp on me?”
“S-sorry,” Elmwood panted. He stumbled once more as he side-stepped the frog, narrowly missing him. To regain his balance, Elmwood reached out and grabbed a long, low-hanging branch from a nearby tree. He was just about to step back onto the trail when the branch began slowly squirming in his hand.
“EEEEEIIEEY!” Elmwood screamed, quickly snapping his hand away. His heart beat wildly in his chest, thumping at the back of this throat.
The frog couldn’t help but snicker. He waited a moment for Elmwood’s sudden shock to subside, then narrowed his watery eyes. “Elmwood,” he said. “I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine.” Nodding to the squirming branch, he smiled. “Meet Slinky…”
Elmwood had never in his young life seen a creature such as the one he was looking at now. It’s long, narrow body resembled that of a brightly colored vine. When it moved, it’s body pulsed in different shades of green and brown, and there was a thin, bright yellow stripe running all along its slender back. On one end was a flat, triangular head with two dark and unblinking eyes, and a black and red forked tongue flickered in and out of a wide mouth full of sharp and dangerous teeth.
Slowly the creature slid from the tree to the ground. There was an eerie confidence in the way that it moved, the way that it openly stared at anyone and everyone who happened to be in it’s presence. Then, as if by magic, the strange animal began coiling around and around in a narrowing circle, stacking its body neatly into a pile. When it spoke, its voice was like that of a whispering wind rustling through the wrinkled leaves of an ice-cold winter.
“Hello...” hissed Slinky softly. “Sssssso nice of you to drop by…” His laugh was quiet and low. “Isssss there anything I can do for you? Ssssssomething you need, perhaps?”
Elmwood watched in utter shock. His tiny feet suddenly felt as if they had been glued to the ground. His legs were like wooden sticks, unable to move.
The frog was the first to speak, the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “How have you been, Slinky?” he asked. “I see you’re still sticking to the shadows.”
“Yesssss…” purred the snake. “I like it that way. It gives me a better chance to—ah—prepare myself for those who decide to travel my path.” Slinky smiled, again flicking his evil-looking tongue. Turning his attention to Elmwood, he continued. “Sssssso, tell me, what bringzzz you to my humble home?”
Now Elmwood wasn’t very old, nor was he very experienced in the many ways of the woods, but in the animal world one soon learns to become quickly aware of the dangers around him. Sudden storms, fires, lightning, poisonous plants, even other animals carry risks that one must learn to protect against. And this creature, Elmwood knew, definitely carried risks.
Lifting his gaze, Elmwood tried to meet the paralyzing stare of the snake. But those penetrating eyes burrowed inside him, and for a moment he almost felt as if the snake held some sort of special power, a power which ordered him to remain still, to remain stuck fast to the center of the trail.
Elmwood’s heart was torn. Part of him was terrified of this strange creature, and he dearly wished he could be anywhere in the forest than right where he was. The fear that he felt in throwing the rock at the loud-mouthed frog was nothing compared to the fear that he now felt. But there was another side of Elmwood that just couldn’t let go of the deep and painful desire to reach his home and family. The price he would have to pay for Slinky’s help he didn’t yet know, but he sensed it might be very high. Still…
“Well, my little friend,” Slinky prompted. “How isssss it that I may ssssserve you?”
Elmwood knew that it was now time for the biggest decision of his young life. There could be no further stalling, no further allowing the creeping fear to sink in and paralyze him into doing nothing. Either he let the snake help him, or he stayed where he was, maybe lost forever. Neither choice sounded very good to Elmwood, but the thought of another night alone in the forest was simply too much to bear. So, throwing caution to the wind, he decided to allow the frightening animal to help him. Using all the strength he had, Elmwood tore his gaze away from the snake’s powerful eyes, and looked once again at the ground. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Okay, Mr. Slinky. I think I can trust you…”
For the next several minutes, Slinky listened as Elmwood told his story. He tried to appear as concerned as possible as he listened to the young chipmunk’s plight, but he couldn’t help but smile as he found himself “oohing” and “aahing” in all the right places. Through it all, though, Slinky’s eyes remained firmly fixed on Elmwood, staring hungrily at the small furry body standing before him. And if Elmwood had been looking back, he would have noticed the look of danger in the snake’s dark and chilling eyes, and the sight of it would have sent him running as as fast as his little legs could have carried him. But Elmwood was just a boy, still too young to know of such dangers, and he innocently continued his story, unaware of the snake’s desires. He finished his tale by admitting to Slinky that his greatest problem was that he was unable to swim, and that he was here to ask for his help in getting safely across the water.
“Ssssso,” Slinky said, hiding another smile. “You would like me to—ah—assist you to the other side of the stream, is that correct?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Elmwood stammered. His heart thumped heavily in his chest. “I would like that more than anything in the world!”
Slinky let his eyes wander over to the smirking, loud-mouthed frog, and an unspoken message passed briefly between them. Then he spoke again to the waiting Elmwood. “Yesssss, my young friend. I do believe I have the answer that you have been seeking. But I have to warn you that it may be dangerous. I am but a mere forest creature such as yourself, and for my safety as well as yours, I will have to ask to you to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
When Elmwood heard this, his tiny heart fairly burst with joy. Yes! The snake could help him! Elmwood couldn’t believe his luck. He was overjoyed. His fear, although not completely forgotten, was quickly set aside, and he began silently scolding himself for being so afraid. After all, hadn’t the frog said Slinky was a friend? Of course he had! “Oh, my,” thought Elmwood, “I’m going home!” And from that point forward, the only vision the excited little chipmunk could see was the sweet picture of his family running to meet him as he sprinted up the small, winding path to his house, jumping with glee that he had found his way home. His parents would surely cover him with hugs and kisses. And his many brothers and sisters, he knew, would all gather around and excitedly pester him with dozens of questions about where he had been, and of what he had been doing. “Oh, yes!” cried Elmwood, his thoughts running wild. “Yes, Mr. Slinky! I will—I will! I’ll do exactly as you say!??
?
“Very good,” smiled the snake, uncoiling his long, nimble body. “This, then, is what I want you to do…”
Chapter V
Meanwhile, back at the very same tree where Plummer had earlier sat listening to the conversation between Elmwood and the frog, a small crowd of animals was gathering.
“This is where I saw them, Erdle.” Plummer said. “They were right here on this very bank.”
“Yes! Yes, they were!” said a young raccoon, her bright eyes wide with excitement. “I saw them!”
“We saw them, too!” chimed a pair of delicate butterflies as they fluttered close to the ground. “And, look—! Here are their footprints in the sand!”
“Well, Plum,” Erdle said. “You were right. This is where they were. But they’re not here now, and I’d bet a dollar to a doughnut that they’re well on their way to Slinky’s.”
Suddenly a bushy-tailed squirrel came racing up the path, completely out of breath. “I’ve seen him!” he shouted. “I’ve seen the little chipmunk!”
“Where?” Erdle asked. “Where did you see him, Bushy?”
“He’s at Slinky’s! With Slinky and that loud-mouthed frog!” Quickly Bushy turned and began racing back down the trail. “Come on, you guys!” he cried. “We have to help him! We do! That Slinky’s a bad one! And he’s—he’s dangerous!”
Erdle looked first at Plummer, and then at the young raccoon. He smiled grimly at the butterflies, and watched thoughtfully as the excited squirrel raced quickly once again down the narrow path toward Slinky’s. These were good friends. Good friends, indeed. And the fact that not one of these tiny animals had ever met this young chipmunk made it all the more true. All that mattered to them was that another animal was in trouble, in danger, and they were anxious to help that animal in any way they could. Erdle’s heart was suddenly filled with a tremendous pride as he looked once again at the friends who awaited him.
There were no better friends in the world.
Chapter VI
“There’s a sturdy bush on the other side of the stream,” said the snake. “Do you see it?”
Elmwood stepped closer to the water’s edge, looking at the other bank. He saw the bush Slinky had pointed out. “Yes,” he said. “I see it.”
The snake smiled, tossing another quick glance at the frog, then continued. “What I am going to do, little one, is this. First, I am going to wrap my tail around a rock on this side of the stream. Then I will swim across the water and bite into that bush over there, using my teeth to hold me in place. Once I have done this, I will tighten my body, and you can then run along my back until you reach the other side. Do you see how easy it will be?” he asked.
At this, the frog smiled to himself. He could see how determined and excited the young chipmunk was at the thought of finally going home. The boy could think of nothing else. He, however, knew the snake better than anyone in the forest, and he knew exactly what Slinky had in mind for the little chipmunk. The poor little fool would get no further across the stream than the back of Slinky’s head before Slinky, as quick as lightning, would suddenly spin around, open his jaws wide, then eat the little furball without a second thought.
Elmwood, though, knew no such thing. His young heart was aware only of the sheer happiness of finally going home. He was excited. He was eager and thrilled. And, yes, he did see how easy it would be to follow Slinky’s plan. Why, running the short distance across Slinky’s back would be no problem at all! Many times Elmwood had raced across the narrow limbs of trees and bushes while playing, and they had been much smaller than the slim back of the snake.
“Yes, Mr. Slinky!” he answered. “It will be easy, just like you said. And thank you, thank you, thank you!” Elmwood was so excited that he couldn’t help but jump up and down, his tiny feet patting the soft ground beneath him.
The frog looked on as Elmwood continued to dance.
And Slinky, a huge grin now exposing his sharp and wicked teeth, began swimming slowly across the water…
Chapter VII
“Hurry! Hurry!” panted the bushy-tailed squirrel as he quickly led his friends down the trail. “We have to hurry, you guys!”
For a moment, Erdle stumbled, losing his hat. He stooped to grab it, but Plummer was instantly there, swooping to pick it up.
“Come on!” Bushy cried. “Let’s go! We’re almost there!”
The ragtag group quickened their pace, following the squirrel as swiftly as they could. A bluebird, a squirrel, two butterflies, a raccoon, and an old man—each of them carrying uncertain visions as to what they might find once they reached their destination. Would the little chipmunk be all right? Was this all just a lot of worrying for nothing? Or would the chipmunk be in bad, bad trouble? These questions worried them all as they quickly made their way toward Slinky’s.
Chapter VIII
With his tail in place and his slender body stretched smoothly across the water, Slinky glanced back at Elmwood. “Are you ready, little one?” he asked.
Elmwood took a deep, but shaky breath. “Yes, I think so,” he replied. Slowly he walked the last few steps to the sandy bank, placing his feet just inches from the rippling stream, inches from Slinky’s shiny back. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready, sir.”
At that moment, the loud-mouthed frog suddenly hopped closer to Elmwood, stopping just behind the little chipmunk, making it impossible for a last-minute change of mind. The frog knew all too well that Slinky would never forgive him if he accidentally let this tasty meal get away.
Slinky bit deeply into the bush with his sharp, pointed teeth, then stretched his body tight. It was the signal for Elmwood to begin.
Slowly, Elmwood lifted his foot, placing it gently on the snake’s narrow back. It felt warm to the touch. Rubbery. And Elmwood knew at once that he didn’t like the feel of the moist, scaly skin. His heart thumped wildly inside him, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the excitement of going home, the fear of crossing the stream, or if he was finally realizing a danger from these two animals that he should have realized before.
Elmwood slowly turned to glance at the frog for encouragement, but the sight of those huge, watery eyes—and even bigger grin—did nothing to ease his mind. Turning back, he forced himself to slide his foot a little farther along the back of the snake. He didn’t know why, but he found himself now afraid to go forward, but more afraid of turning back.
“That’s it,” cooed the frog behind him. “That’s my boy! Remember,” he said, “you’re almost home. Step along now. Go ahead, step along—”
Slinky tensed his body as he awaited the young chipmunk’s next step. The muscles of his jaws worked feverishly at the bush between them, and his mouth watered at the thought of the delicious meal standing shakily upon his back. Inwardly, he smiled. It would all be over soon.
Elmwood lifted his other foot, slowly stretching it out over the rubbery skin. His fear was overwhelming. He could almost taste it at the back of his throat. But Elmwood knew that he had to be strong. Now was not the time to be afraid. For without crossing the stream there was no way to get home. And he had to get home! Yes, he could sense the danger. But he had to take the chance. He had to trust the snake. There was no other choice.
Elmwood closed his eyes, took a deep, deep breath, and braced himself to run.
He’d taken two quick steps when—
SWOOOOOSH!
—from out of nowhere there came a sound like a thousand tiny arrows suddenly being shot through the air! The little missiles thudded and smacked the damp ground next to Elmwood’s feet. They sizzled and splashed into the water around him. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew for certain that it was far too much for his already pounding heart to take.
Like a flash, Elmwood turned and jumped from Slinky’s back. The frog, just as stunned by the turn of events as Elmwood, spun around as well and tried to stop him, but Elmwood’s fear was far too great. He bowled over the startled frog as if he were nothing more than a tadpole, kno
cking him down and trampling him into the mud as he sprinted by. Elmwood’s little legs were pumping like crazy, moving as fast as his fear could make them, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was far away from the stream, standing safely once again upon the trail.
For a long moment everything was quiet. The forest was silent. The only sound was that of the bubbling stream. Then suddenly—
“All right!” cried a strange voice from a clump of bushes just behind Elmwood. “I think this game has gone on just about long enough!” One of the bushes rattled, and two tiny eyes peered out. Elmwood almost fainted.
The voice was a snuffling, snorting, half-rising, half-falling kind of voice, and when it spoke again it’s words were followed by yet another of the strangest looking animals Elmwood had ever seen. This one was fat and bristly, with short stubby legs. It’s head was small and pointed, and much to Elmwood’s surprise, it’s tiny round eyes were covered by a pair of glasses just like the kind that he wore! But the strangest thing about this animal was that he looked to be covered with thousands and thousands of tiny pins and needles. They were everywhere! He even had them on his ears!
For several long seconds Elmwood stared at the strange animal before it finally dawned on him just what kind of an animal it actually was. It was a porcupine! And by the looks of him, the porcupine was not much older than Elmwood!
“I guess I came along just in time, eh?” asked the snuffly voice. The porcupine waddled further onto the trail, fixing a threatening stare at the snake and frog.
“Oh, uh—hi there!” croaked the now not-so-loud-mouthed frog. “Didn’t see you there, Needles. How’ve you been?”
With a sudden flick of his tail, the young porcupine launched several more sharp arrows in the direction of the bank. The frog screamed as they drilled the water around him, the last few shots pinning him helplessly to the ground. Then, ignoring the frog’s cries for mercy, Needles turned and launched yet another volley of pointed weapons, this time his perfect aim pinning Slinky to each side of the stream. In seconds both animals were tightly trapped, completely at the mercy of the fast-shooting porcupine.