Sons of an Ancient Glory Read Online Free
Author: BJ Hoff
their arms and Dulcie screamed, hoping to frighten the cat into dropping the baby rabbit.
Johanna began to cry as they crashed through the trees, her heart wrenching at the sight of the tiny bunny in the clutches of the cat. Hiking her skirts up still more, she cleared decaying tree stumps and bramble bushes with ease, never taking her eyes off the cat.
With the baby rabbit still in its mouth, the cat continued to dash into the woods, but aimlessly now, lunging first in one direction, then another, as if uncertain which way led to escape.
Sprinting far out in front of Dulcie, Johanna managed to bring herself up almost even with the cat. The animal acted as though it didnât see her, veering off to the right, leaning into the wind as it ran. But Dulcie, shrieking and wildly waving a tree branch, cut around Johanna to close in on the cat.
Unexpectedly, the animal seemed to lose all sense of direction. It darted first one way, then another, whipping back and forth. Finally, it tossed its tiny prey on the ground and took off in a frenzied run into the heart of the woods.
Johanna dropped to her knees to retrieve the baby rabbit, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. Cradling the pitiful little bunny against her, she got to her feet. She could feel the tiny heart racing beneath her hand and thought perhaps the rabbit was as frightened of her and Dulcie as it had been of the cat.
Suddenly, a flash of remembrance struck her.
How long had they been gone? Little Tomâ¦heâs been alone all this time.â¦
With her free hand, she motioned to Dulcie that they had to get back to the park right away!
Holding his breath, Tom hugged the log and waited. It seemed like a very long time since the frog had disappeared. The wind was blowing harder now, whipping up the pond and setting off a wailing in the trees.
Tom trembled all over, not only from the cold, but also with a fierce disappointment at losing the frog. Holding on tight, he peered down into the pond. He could see nothing beneath the big lily pads and vines growing up out of the water.
âCome back here, you old Bull-Frog!â he demanded. He was angry at the frog, even angrier with himself for letting it get away.
Now he had nothing to show for all his effort but a skinned belly and a bad case of the shivers. Once more, but with no real hope, he rippled the water with one hand, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature that had outwitted him. Seeing nothing, he finally began to creep backward on the log.
It hurt even worse than before, the splintered bark tearing at his stomach and scratching the palms of his hands. Stopping, Tom carefully pushed up on his knees, then, bracing both hands on the log, pulled himself upright.
At a splash in the water close by, just off to his left, followed by a strong burst of wind at his other side, Tom jerked around. He teetered, one foot going out from under him. Thrashing his arms, he grabbed nothing but air. With a sharp cry, he pitched off the log into the pond.
Tom sank fast. His heavy boots felt like stones pulling him down, down into the darkness. He tried to scream, but only managed to pull in huge gulps of the rancid pond water.
Pushing and kicking, he bobbed up once, then again, flailing his hands in a desperate search for the tree trunk, for something to grab onto. He found only ropelike vines, his vision totally obscured by the dense covering of lily pads and vegetation.
Tom thought he heard someone shouting and opened his mouth to cry out. Instead, he strangled on the rush of bitter water that flooded his lungs.
Pain squeezed his heart, his lungs, his throat. Tears of terror mingled with the pond water as he tried to scream. Panic engulfed him. He kicked wildly, beating the water as hard as he could. Once more, he bobbed up, smacking his head on something hard.
Just before they reached the clearing, the girls stopped long enough to tuck the baby rabbit safely into its nest.
As they broke free of
Johanna began to cry as they crashed through the trees, her heart wrenching at the sight of the tiny bunny in the clutches of the cat. Hiking her skirts up still more, she cleared decaying tree stumps and bramble bushes with ease, never taking her eyes off the cat.
With the baby rabbit still in its mouth, the cat continued to dash into the woods, but aimlessly now, lunging first in one direction, then another, as if uncertain which way led to escape.
Sprinting far out in front of Dulcie, Johanna managed to bring herself up almost even with the cat. The animal acted as though it didnât see her, veering off to the right, leaning into the wind as it ran. But Dulcie, shrieking and wildly waving a tree branch, cut around Johanna to close in on the cat.
Unexpectedly, the animal seemed to lose all sense of direction. It darted first one way, then another, whipping back and forth. Finally, it tossed its tiny prey on the ground and took off in a frenzied run into the heart of the woods.
Johanna dropped to her knees to retrieve the baby rabbit, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. Cradling the pitiful little bunny against her, she got to her feet. She could feel the tiny heart racing beneath her hand and thought perhaps the rabbit was as frightened of her and Dulcie as it had been of the cat.
Suddenly, a flash of remembrance struck her.
How long had they been gone? Little Tomâ¦heâs been alone all this time.â¦
With her free hand, she motioned to Dulcie that they had to get back to the park right away!
Holding his breath, Tom hugged the log and waited. It seemed like a very long time since the frog had disappeared. The wind was blowing harder now, whipping up the pond and setting off a wailing in the trees.
Tom trembled all over, not only from the cold, but also with a fierce disappointment at losing the frog. Holding on tight, he peered down into the pond. He could see nothing beneath the big lily pads and vines growing up out of the water.
âCome back here, you old Bull-Frog!â he demanded. He was angry at the frog, even angrier with himself for letting it get away.
Now he had nothing to show for all his effort but a skinned belly and a bad case of the shivers. Once more, but with no real hope, he rippled the water with one hand, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature that had outwitted him. Seeing nothing, he finally began to creep backward on the log.
It hurt even worse than before, the splintered bark tearing at his stomach and scratching the palms of his hands. Stopping, Tom carefully pushed up on his knees, then, bracing both hands on the log, pulled himself upright.
At a splash in the water close by, just off to his left, followed by a strong burst of wind at his other side, Tom jerked around. He teetered, one foot going out from under him. Thrashing his arms, he grabbed nothing but air. With a sharp cry, he pitched off the log into the pond.
Tom sank fast. His heavy boots felt like stones pulling him down, down into the darkness. He tried to scream, but only managed to pull in huge gulps of the rancid pond water.
Pushing and kicking, he bobbed up once, then again, flailing his hands in a desperate search for the tree trunk, for something to grab onto. He found only ropelike vines, his vision totally obscured by the dense covering of lily pads and vegetation.
Tom thought he heard someone shouting and opened his mouth to cry out. Instead, he strangled on the rush of bitter water that flooded his lungs.
Pain squeezed his heart, his lungs, his throat. Tears of terror mingled with the pond water as he tried to scream. Panic engulfed him. He kicked wildly, beating the water as hard as he could. Once more, he bobbed up, smacking his head on something hard.
Just before they reached the clearing, the girls stopped long enough to tuck the baby rabbit safely into its nest.
As they broke free of
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