Catwings Read online

  “Mother always said,” Thelma remarked,

  thoughtfully, “that if you found the right kind

  of Hands, you’d never have to hunt again. But

  if you found the wrong kind, it would be worse

  than dogs, she said,”

  “I think this one is the right kind,” said

  Harriet.

  “What makes you think so?” Roger

  asked, sounding like their mother.

  “Because it ran off and came back with a

  plate full of dinner,” Harriet said. “And it put

  the dinner down on that big stump at the edge

  of the field, the field where we scared the cows

  that day, you know. And then it went off quite a

  way, and sat down, and just watched me. So I

  flew over and ate the dinner. It was an

  interesting dinner. Like what we used to get in

  the alley, but fresher. And,” said Harriet,

  sounding like their mother, “I’m going back

  there tomorrow and see what’s on that stump.”

  “You just be careful, Harriet Tabby!” said

  Thelma, sounding even more like their

  mother.

  CHAPTER 4

  THE NEXT DAY

  , when Harriet went

  to the big stump at the edge of the cow pasture,

  flying low and cautiously, she found a tin

  pie-plate of meat scraps and kibbled catfood

  waiting for her. The girl from Overhill Farm

  was also waiting for her, sitting about twenty

  feet away from the stump, and holding very

  still. Susan Brown was her name, and she

  was eight years old. She watched Harriet

  fly out of the woods and hover like a fat

  hummingbird over the stump, then settle

  down, fold her wings neatly, and eat. Susan

  Brown held her breath. Her eyes grew round.

  The next day, when Harriet and Roger

  flew cautiously out of the woods and hovered

  over the stump, Susan was sitting about

  fifteen feet away, and beside her sat her

  twelve-year-old brother Hank. He had not

  believed a word she said about flying cats. Now

  his eyes were perfectly round, and he was

  holding his breath.

  Harriet and Roger settled down to eat.

  “You didn’t say there were two of them,”

  Hank whispered to his sister.

  Harriet and Roger sat on the stump

  licking their whiskers clean.

  “You didn’t say there were two of them,”

  Roger whispered to his sister.

  “I didn’t know!” both the sisters whis-

  pered back. “There was only one, yesterday.

  But they look nice

  —

  don’t they?”

  THE NEXT DAY

  , Hank and Susan put

  out two pie-tins of cat dinner on the stump,

  then went ten steps away, sat down in the grass,

  and waited.

  [42]

  Harriet flew boldly from the woods and

  alighted on the stump. Roger followed her.

  Then

  —

  “Oh, look!” Susan whispered

  —

  came

  Thelma, flying very slowly, with a disapproving

  expression on her face. And finally

  —

  “Oh,

  look, look!” Susan whispered

  —

  James, flying

  low and lame, flapped over to the stump,

  landed on it, and began to eat. He ate, and ate,

  and ate. He even growled once at Thelma,

  who moved to the other pie-tin.

  The two children watched the four

  winged cats.

  Harriet, quite full, washed her face, and

  watched the children.

  Thelma finished a last tasty kibble, washed

  her left front paw and gazed at the children.

  Suddenly she flew up from the stump and

  straight at them. They ducked as she went

  over. She flew right round both their heads and

  then back to the stump.

  “Testing,”she said to Harriet, James, and

  Roger.

  “If she does it again, don’t catch her,”

  Hank said to Susan. “It’d scare her off.”

  “You think I’m stupid?” Susan hissed.

  They sat still. The cats sat still. Cows ate

  grass nearby. The sun shone.

  “Kitty,” Susan said in a soft, high voice.

  “Kitty kit-kit-kit-kit-kit-cat, kitty-cat, kitty-

  wings, kittywings, catwings!”

  Harriet jumped off the stump into the air,

  performed a cartwheel, and flew loop-the-loop

  over to Susan. She landed on Susan’s shoulder

  and sat there, holding on tight and purring in

  Susan’s ear.

  “I will never never never ever catch you, or

  cage you, or do anything to you you don’t want

  me to do,” Susan said to Harriet. “I promise.

  Hank, you promise too.”

  “Purr,” said Harriet.

  “I promise. And we’ll never ever tell

  anybody else,” Hank said, rather fiercely.

  “Ever! Because

  —

  you know how people are. If

  people saw them

  —

  ”

  “I promise,” Susan said. She and Hank

  shook hands, promising.

  Roger flew gracefully over and landed on

  Hank’s shoulder.

  “Purr,” said Roger.

  “They could live in the old barn,” Susan

  said. “Nobody ever goes there but us. There’s

  that dovecote up in the loft, with all those holes

  in the wall where the doves flew in and out.”

  “We can take hay up there and make

  them a place to sleep,” Hank said.

  “Purr,” said Roger.

  Very softly and gently Hank raised his

  hand and stroked Roger right between the

  wings.

  “Oooh,” said James, watching. He

  jumped down off the stump and came

  trotting over to the children. He sat down

  near Susan’s shoes. Very softly and gently

  Susan reached down and scratched James

  under the chin and behind the ears.

  “Purr,” James said, and drooled a little on

  Susan’s shoe.

  “Oh, well!” said Thelma, having cleaned

  up the last of the cold roast beef. She arose in

  the air, flew over with great dignity, sat right

  down in Hank’s lap, folded her wings, and said,

  “Purr, purr, purr . . .”

  “Oh, Hank,” Susan whispered, “their

  wings are furry.”

  “Oh, James,” Harriet whispered, “their

  hands are kind.”

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