"Thereís nothing like lying
in a field of bluebells on a warm summerís day, is there?" Ian asked his
Mac picked up a blade of
rye grass and put it in his mouth. He looked up at the lazy clouds
floating by against a background of blue. "Nothing better."
"I donít like the bees.
There are too many of them. They buzz all around my head and annoy me,"
"Just ignore them. They
arenít interested in you, Ian. They want the pollen from the bluebells.
There are butterflies and dragonflies too. Did you see that one fly past a
few minutes ago? It had blue wings and a green body and was very pretty,"
"A butterfly or a
dragonfly?" Ian asked.
"Butterfly. Say, Ian, weíre
being a bit lazy today. Letís go down to the glen and see if auld Mr.
Johnstonís chickens have laid any eggs. Iím craving eggs right now. What
do you say?" Mac suggested.
"Eggs? That does sound
good," Ian said, jumping up. "Iíll beat you down the hillside." He ran as
fast as his short, raccoon legs could take him.
Mac followed. They ran
until they came to the fence surrounded Mr. Johnstonís back garden. Huge
sunflowers surrounded it. "More bees," Ian sighed.
"Shhh, Ian. Somehow weíve
got to sneak past the windows without being seen, get into the chicken
coop and get the eggs, without the chickens clucking too loud. Any
thoughts?" Mac asked.
"If we walk right under the
windows until we reach the side of the house, then we can run quickly to
the coop. We can hide behind those rose bushes if we need."
"Good idea," Mac said. He
surveyed the back garden. The small house sat about twenty feet from the
chicken coop, which was at the very back part of the garden. A few
chickens were pecking seed from the ground. "Do you think auld Mr.
Johnston has gathered the eggs already? Maybe weíd better wait until
"He might have. The sunís
high in the sky. Iíd hate to get all the way there and find out there are
no eggs. Letís spend the rest of the day behind the wood pile and we can
sneak up to the chicken coop before sunrise and be ready to snatch the
eggs," Ian said.
"Good idea. I am hungry
though. What will we eat? We canít sit all day behind the woodpile. Weíll
starve," Mac said, his tummy growling.
"Mac? Is that you thinking
about food? Itís usually me whoís starving, like I am right now! Around
front thereís a vegetable garden. I think he grows carrots and turnips,"
"Carrots and Turnips it is
then," Mac said and the two raccoons ran around to the front of the house.
Much to their horror, auld Mr. Johnston was sitting on his front porch,
rocking back and forth in his chair. "Yikes! Another plan foiled today. We
canít get to the carrots and turnips with him watching."
"Iíve another plan. There
are three cows in the field. I saw them as we ran by. Two of them are
ready to milk. Maybe if we are really sneaky, we can lie under the cow as
it grazes and suck some of the milk out, or at least let it drip into our
mouths," Ian suggested.
"Are you mad? The cows
arenít going to let us do that or anything else near them, but fresh cream
does sound good. Weíll give it a try. Iím hungry enough to go through with
it," Mac said.
They snuck through the tall
grasses and came within a few feet of Patches, one of the cows. She turned
her head and looked at them but didnít seem to mind them being there. They
crept a little closer. "MOOO!" Patches called out but didnít move.
"Right, weíre here. You
grab her teat and squeeze the milk into my mouth," Mac commanded.
"What? I say you grab it
and I get the first milk," Ian complained.
"Me first," Mac said
"No, me first," Ian
So it went for half an
hour. Patches, seeing the arguing raccoons wandered off, unnoticed.
"All right. You can go
first," Mac sighed. "Letís go then."
They turned to get some
milk. "Whereís the cow? Whereís Patches?" Ian asked.
"Sheís walked away over
there! If you hadnít been so stubborn and just let me have the first milk,
sheíd have stayed here!" Mac said angrily and headed back to auld Mr.
Ian stayed in the field
mumbling and stomping his feet! "Why, Iíll show him! Iím going to go and
get the eggs right now!" He ran right to the chicken coop.
Mac had just settled down
behind the woodpile when he heard chickenís squawking. He saw Mr. Johnston
jump up from his chair and head into the back garden. Mac looked at the
coop. There was Ian; his arms filled with eggs and all around him feathers
were flying. Chickens were clucking and pecking at his paws. "OUCH! OUCH!
OUCH!" went Ian.
"Whatís going on there?
Whoís in the chicken coop?" Mr. Johnston called. He spotted Ian. "A
raccoon? Leave my chickens alone. Drop those eggs or else," he said,
picking up a three pronged pitchfork.
"YIKES!" Ian cried, dropped
the eggs and ran towards Mac. "Help! Help! Help!" he called.
Mac watched as Mr. Johnston
picked the eggs up and took them into the house. "Weíd better get out of
here while we can. Come on, Ian," Mac said and the two raccoons ran and
ran and ran, and didnít stop until theyíd reached their tree.
"Whew! That was close!" Ian
said, breathing rapidly.
"Well, now we have no eggs,
no milk and no food, thanks to you Ian," Mac said rudely.
Ian knew heíd been at
fault. He looked at Mac and ran off into the forest without saying another
word. Mac, still angry, climbed the tree and fell asleep on the branch. A
while later, Ian shook Mac until he was awake. "Whatís going on?" he
yawned. Ian sat on the branch next to Mac. His arms were filled with two
huge blocks of cheese and a loaf of bread. "Where did you get that?" Mac
"While auld Mr. Johnston
was out guarding his chickens, I snuck in the front door and found all
this cheese and bread," Ian laughed.
"Hee hee. Thanks Ian. Now
we can eat. Iím sorry for being angry before. I was just very hungry," Mac
"Itís all right, Mac. Letís
just eat the cheese and bread," Ian said.
The two of them feasted on
the food and ate every last crumb of bread and cheese. Delicious!" Mac
said. "I still want to get those eggs though. Hereís my plan for tomorrow
morningÖÖ." They stayed up half the night planning their early morning
raid, friends again.