Basil and the Pygmy Cats
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Eve Titus
Illustrated by Paul Galdone

(c) 1971 by Eve Titus and Paul Galdone

14
Volcano!
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We stared up in fright at the volcano. From its cone a thin stream of smoke spiraled upward. The rumbling sounds stopped, and all was quiet.

"There's no reason for panic," said Basil. "From all I've read about volcanic eruptions, those were just preliminary rumbles. We've ample time for transporting ourselves and our belongings to the safety of the yacht. All the valuable objects we found are already aboard the ship, except for the jar with the scrolls. I'll have the sailors attend to that immediately. I'll also tell them to bring back all the lifeboats--we'll need them."

Silently we went about the business of taking down the tents and packing our food and equipment.



From time to time the volcano rumbled, but Basil's prescence calmed us as we loaded the boats. He had brought us safely through many perils before.



The boats were brought back and forth until everything was safely aboard the yacht. The others piled into a boat, and Basil and I were alone on the beach.



"The sailors will return for us in ten minutes," he said, and frowned. "Heavens! Where are the pygmy cats? They completely escaped my mind!"

We looked at the volcano. Toiling up the slope were the cats, with Kahlúa leading them.

"It's certain death to go up there!" cried Basil, and screamed Kahlúa's name as we raced along.

The sky darkened. An enormous dust cloud hovered over the volcano, almost hiding the sun.

Kahlúa walked back to meet us. The talk was in Euphorian, but Basil later told me what was said. I write it in English for the reader's benefit.

Kahlúa said, "The God of the Smoking Mountain is angered! He demands a sacrifice! Ten of us must leap into the flaming volcano. Only then will he spare our beloved island. Farewell!"

And he ran back to lead the cats upward again.

"Now or never!" said Basil to me. "If it's a king they want, they shall have one, a king who will tell them fibs to save their lives!"

He darted ahead to face the cats. They fell to the ground, covering their faces.

"I am your king! Heed my words!" cried Basil. "Last night the God of the Smoking Mountain came to me in a dream. 'I do not want any more sacrifices,' he told me. 'Take the cats far away on your ship, for tomorrow I shall destroy this island!'"

Kahlúa trembled "I did not know of your dream."

"Obey your king," said Basil sternly. "All must go to the beach. And tell your cats that it is no longer forbidden to look at a king's face."

We left none too soon, for a heavy rain began to fall, accompanied by thunder and lightning.

Basil and I and the thirty cats crowded into the lifeboat and were rowed out to the Rosetta.

Captain Black got under way at once, in surging, swelling seas. Only when we had reached calmer waters did we look at the volcano.

We saw spectacular fireworks, a dazzling display of the monster's might! Flashes of lightning illumined the inky darkness. From the cone of the volcano came showers of sparks, red and yellow and orange, swirling high in the air.



The sounds were deafening, as though a thousand cannons were firing away!

Tons of lava flowed down the slopes in a stream a mile wide. As more rain fell, the lava mixed with mud. Like a boiling lake the fiery-hot mass advanced upon the island.

"Kataarh is doomed!" cried Basil, and he was right.

The lava flowed over everything, even the hills. Clouds of hissing steam arose as the boiling lava entered the sea, but the sea was the final victor, for the lava vanished into its depths.

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