Tag: Francois the Mouse

Francois the Mouse, Chapter 8

Frank, following his role in the plan they’d laid, crept closer to the alligator’s nest. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he failed to notice the rock that was blocking his path. He fell flat, alerting the alligators of his presence, and he tried to jump up and run, but he seemed to be rooted to the ground, immovable. The alligator lumbered forward, it’s cavernous mouth opened wide, ready to swallow him whole. The alligator was upon him, it-

Francois woke up, his brow bathed in sweat. It was only a dream, he thought to himself. But try as he might he couldn’t get the idea that their plan wasn’t right one out of his head. Would killing really bring peace?

It was a long time before Francois went back to sleep.


Francois the Mouse, Chapter 7

Frank awoke late the next morning, and as he walked into the kitchen, the only one he found was Chubba, who was washing dishes.
“Where has everyone gone to?” Frank asked.
“Oh”, Chubba said. “Outside. I think they’re all uh swimmin’ at the moment.”
“But what about breakfast?”
“What about breakfast? It’s almost noon boy! Almost lunch time! We waited and waited for you to get up, but a body can only go without food for so long!”
Longer in your case than others, Frank thought to himself. He didn’t think that Chubba would appreciate it if he said it, so instead he asked for something to eat.
“Late as it is”, Chubba said, “Might as well trot down to the beach and tell all of them water rats to come up for lunch!”
Frank obeyed, and they soon gathered around a table loaded with wonderful things to eat. After Stubba blessed the food, they all began eating. There were turnip greens and green beans, corn on the kernel and corn bread, baked shrimp, boiled crab, fried okra, key lime pie, and home made root beer, which Stubba was very fond of, guzzling pint after pint.
There was a great quantity of laughter an belt loosening during the meal, but after it, talk turned to serious matters.
“So where’d yuh go yesterday?” Bubba asked Frank.
“I went to scout out the location of the nest.
“You could’ve scouted out the location of every nest, twig, bird, bush, and rock in the time that you were gone from here!”
“Yes, I had a few mishaps that impeded me from making a swift and timely return.”
“Such as?”
“I accidentally fell down a weasel hole.”
“What else? You could have fallen down 50 weasel holes in the time you took!”
“Well, I must admit I was rather fatigued, so I took a short rest.”
“How short?”
“Well… I meant to only close my eyes for a second, but I suppose I slept an hour or two.”
“Suppose?”
“Okay! I did!”
“Wall, that’s fine, just as long as yuh got back. But what did yuh find out about them thar gators? Does yuh know whar thar nest is sitcheated?”
“Yes I do.”
“Good. Then I guess we can begin our plans of attack. Right little mousy?”
Puffing out his shallow chest to prove that he wasn’t that small, he replied.
“Yes. I believe that, while it will be a hazardous and difficult undertaking, it is not an impossible one if it is undertaken with a due amount of care, caution, and clear thinking.”
They all then began forming a plan, using due amounts of care, caution, and clear thinking.


Francois the Mouse, Chapter 6

The sun was nearly overhead before Frank, cursing himself for his laziness, woke. He sat up tried to get his bearings. Everything around him was unfamiliar, but, at least he saw no alligator tracks. Knowing that he’d been swept downstream, he proceeded to head in the opposite direction, knowing that, if he walked far enough, he would reach the place where he dove in. It took him some time to reach the spot, and when he did he was relieved to find that the alligator was no longer there. Since he was already very late, he decided he might as well find where the nest was hidden.
He simply had to follow the alligator tracks. 100 yards from the stream he found the nest- and 2 full grown alligators who were guarding it jealously. He inched closer to have a better look, totally engrossed in what he was seeing. He didn’t notice the rock that barred his way, and tripped over it, falling flat. Instantly the alligators were alerted, and swayed their heads back and forth, searching for the intruder. They spotted him just as he scrambled back into the tangled undergrowth, and both went after him with a low, guttural roar. They may have looked clumsy, but they ran at great speed, and would have overtaken Frank if he hadn’t fallen down a small hole. The two beasts thundered over him, and soon he could hear them no more. As soon as his heart stopped beating quite as fast, he started to look around his surroundings.
He was in a small hole, hardly tall enough for him to stand in, yet it didn’t quite feel like a hole- it was too dry and clean smelling. He barely had time to make these observations before he heard a scratching sound followed by a puff and a flash of light. Frank whirled around, and saw, facing him, a small furry creature.
“Who are you?” Frank asked.
“Who are you?” The creature said in answer, “and what are you trying to do, jumping into my house like that?”
“I didn’t mean to fall in”, Frank said. “I was being chased by alligators and fell in by accident. As far as who I am, I am Francois Arborio de Felinie, but around here I am known simply by the name Frank.”
“Hi!” The creature said. “My name is George. I’m a weasel. What are you?”
“I am a mouse”
“I didn’t know that mice live in these parts.”
“They don’t. I and 16 others of my kind were wrecked on your shores. We are staying at the home of the chipmunk brothers.”
“Oh yes. They’re good friends of mine. But they don’t live anywhere near here. How did you end up here? You’re over 3 miles from their house!
“I went out to do some scouting and information gathering.”
“Well, the information that I gather is that you’re lost- right?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Well, I am just the weasel you need! I’ll get you back home in two shakes of a frog’s tail!”
It was nearly dark by the time Frank got home, and George told him to go in by himself.
“I need to be heading home, and if I stay it’ll be midnight before I can start back! Once Bubba starts talkin’, he keeps talkin’ for a long, long time!”
Thanking his newly acquired friend, Frank dragged his weary body the last few feet until home. He knocked once, and was about to knock again when the cabin door flew open.
“Hey fellers!” Lookee here!” Bubba was standing in the doorway, with his pudgy face all wrinkled int a smile.
“Looks as if Mr. Mouse has finally got himself back! Yee haw! Ain’t I glad tuh see yuh! Com in Mr.! Tell us all ‘bout the ‘dventures ya’ve been uh havin’ while we’ve been uh waitin’ here! Get yourself some stew! Pull up a chair. Get warm! How’ve yuh been managin’ without us?”
Frank was bewildered by this barrage of questions, and just stared blankly. Bubba realized Frank was a bit flustered, so he said, “Wall, I guess all them thar questions can wait. You’ll be able to answer ‘em better with a full belly!”
Frank gratefully sat down to eat the steaming bowl of stew Chubba offered him, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t eaten all day. At first he shovelled food into his mouth at an astonishing speed, but gradually sleep proved more powerful than hunger, and the spoon dropped from his paw, clattering to the floor.
“Wall”, Bubba said to himself. “I guess all them questions will ‘ave tuh wait till tomorrer. This feller needs his rest.”
Heedless of the mud that was covering Frank, Bubba lifted the sleeping mouse from his chair, carrying him past the other mice, who looked as curious as Bubba felt, and into the small alcove where Frank’s bed was. Bubba lowered him down onto it, and as he walked out, he turned back, looking at the small, mud covered mouse. Thars somethin’ special ‘bout that mouse, Bubba thought. Wonder what it is? He walked out, pondering that question.


Francois the Mouse, Chapter 5

The chipmunk brothers had told  Frank that alligators have very poor eyesight, so he was not worried about his position, which was well hidden by the shadows, being discovered. What he was worried about was the possibility of the alligator taking it into it’s head to cross the stream. If that happened, Frank would be in grave danger, as and alligator, he knew, could run 10 feet to every one of his. Much to his horror, the alligator began to lower itself into the water, Frank’s heart raced. He knew he couldn’t run, for if he did the alligator would be able to see him, and would run him down. But, he thought, if he stayed where he was he could be stepped on by the beast, as hi hiding spot was directly in his path. He decided to take neither options, and instead plunged into the water, letting himself drift with the current for some time before he struck out towards the other shore. He reached, and then flopped down on, the muddy bank, wet, cold, and thoroughly exhausted. He tried to fight it, but he soon drifted off to sleep. Hours passed by, and several frogs hopped by the mouse, wondering what he was, but not caring enough to investigate any further.

Francois the Mouse, Chapter 4

Frank was used to little sleep, trained by his life on the seas where one could be called out at all hours of the night, and woke up before anyone else. Last night’s conversation was still fresh on his mind as he pondered what he should do until everyone else awoke. They had decided to send out a scout to reconnoitre the exact location of the alligator’s nest, so Frank thought it would be a good idea to get ahead of schedule by doing the scouting. Besides, he thought, maybe the enemies will be asleep, since it’s so cold an early. Little did he realize his mistake.

Frank crept through the dense vegetation of the bayou, going deeper into it’s heart- and farther from his friends- with every step he took. After he had walked for the better part of an hour, he suddenly found himself staring down the side of a steep bank. To a human it wouldn’t have been too frightening, as the bank was only 2 or 3 yards from top to bottom, but to a mouse like Frank it was a towering cliff- a veritable mountain!

Not being one to do anything without thinking it over carefully, Frank surveyed his surroundings, looking for away that he could slide down without braking every bone in his body.
While he was doing this, he noticed that the thick, glutenous, mud at the base of the bank was a patchwork of footprints. Frank had never seen anything like them before, but he knew without a doubt what they were. They were exact replicas of the tracks of the lizards and newts that he’d seen as a boy, except at the end of each toe was the mark of a long, vicious looking claw- these were no lizard tracks, they were ten times larger! They could have been left by nothing other than an alligator! Proceeding with the utmost caution, Frank walked to a spot where it looked as if the bank had slid down considerably. There, the bank was much less sheer, and Frank could clamber down it with little difficulty.

He followed the alligator tracks with ease until they led him straight into one of the many streams that bisected the bayou. There the tracks all but disappeared, and Frank was about to despair and turn back when he heard a loud crashing sound, coming from the other side of the stream. A moment after he heard the sounds, he saw their sours emerge from the dense undergrowth. It looked like an immense green log on short, stubby legs. It’s entire body was covered in large green warts, except for it’s eyes, which were small and evil looking. This, Frank was sure, was an Alligator!


Francois the Mouse, Chapter 3

Frank woke up to the smells of breakfast. They wafted through the house, creating an aroma that roused all the mice and caused them to unconsciously lick their lips. “Stuffs ready!” Chubba soon said, and all the mice piled out of their beds to get a share of the feast, which was fried pigeon eggs, broiled minnows, acorn coffee, (which none of the mice cared for, due to it’s bitter taste), and oatmeal cakes, slathered with liberal quantities of raspberry jam. The mice ate with gusto, making up for the meals they had missed and then some, and after they had eaten as much as they could possibly hold, they sat back and talked over the last few day’s events.
Bubba told them that they’d landed in the middle of a large bayou in Florida.
“We’ve got a good life”, he said. “We trade with our cousins up north for acorns, an there’s so much food around that really the only work involved in gettin’ it is uh reachin’ up and pullin’ it down. Life’d be just ‘bout perfect if ‘tweren’t for all of them thar gators that live all ‘round. The big un’s ain’t bad, but the little un’s that chase us all over tarnation just for fun! But it ain’t fun, ‘cause if they’d catch us, it’d be all over!”
Bubba slid a stubby finger across his throat to emphasize his point.
“Is there not something that you can do to stop them?” Frank asked inquisitively.
“Wall, if we was to somehow git rid of them gator babies and gator nests, their Pa and Ma might decide that the middle of our land ain’t necessarily the best place to raise their young un’s, and they might just move somer’s else, some more invitin’ place- see?”

Then why has your plan of action not yet been executed?”
“Wall, yuh see, it sounds awful easy like, just ago-in up and bumpin off them little villains, but it’s harder done than said! Little villains have big villains as Mas and Pas!”
somehow git rid of them gator babies and gator nests, their Pa and Ma might decide that the middle of our land ain’t necessarily the best place to raise their young un’s, and they might just move somer’s else, some more invitin’ place- see?”
Then why has your plan of action not yet been executed?”
“Wall, yuh see, it sounds awful easy like, just ago-in up and bumpin off them little villains, but it’s harder done than said! Little villains have big villains as Mas and Pas!”

“True”, Frank said, “But there must be some way that we can rid you of these villains!”
“That’s awful sweet of ya’ll”, Bubba said. “But gettin gators ain’t necessarily all game and fun- it’s dang’rous work, and I wouldn’t want any of ya’ll to git busted up just ‘cuz of some little trouble of ours”.
“But, my good chipmunk”, Frank said. “Now that you have rescued us we are indebted to you- your problem is ours. If we must risk ourselves, so be it. We will, right mice?”
His question was answered by a chorus of cheers and exclamations of assent, so Bubba said, “Wall, I guess that’s that. We better start planning the least hare-brained way to go about what we’re gonna do!”
The sun went higher in the sky, and then lower, yet no one seemed to take any notice whatsoever. Everything- lunch, dinner, snacks, bed- were completely forgotten as the 20 creatures sat and plotted. They talked of only one thing- peace to the creatures of the bayou- and they all knew that the only way that peace could be achieved was by the absence of the alligators!


Francois the Mouse, Chapter 2

Here is chapter two of my story:

“Francois woke up with an awful headache. Groaning, he opened his eyes. He was surprised to see a chipmunk looking right back at him.
“Wall,” the chipmunk drawled. “Lookee here! Looks like yuh fin’ly came to! I just about gave up on ya! You’d swallered about 10 gallons of sea water! What’s your name feller?”
“Francois”, Francois answered.
“Fran, Fran- what? That ain’t no name at all! I’ll just call yuh Frank!”
“Oh, that will be fine”.
“Oh boy!” The chipmunk said. “I just ‘bout went and forgot my manners! I didn’t tell yuh my name! It’s Bubba!”
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Bubba”, Francois, or, as Bubba had re-christened him, Frank, said. “I must ask if you know where any of my fellow shipmice are”.
“Oh, they’re all over this beach. There’s 16 of ‘em in all”.
Frank sighed in relief. That was the number of mice who’d set out with him.
“May I go see them?” He asked.
“Wall shore yuh can! Just foller me!”
Bubba pulled Frank up easily, almost losing his balance, since he’d expected Frank to be heavier. He exclaimed, “Yikes feller! You don’t weigh nuthin! Yuh need ta come home with me for a few weeks. My older brother’s cookin’ will plump you up a bit!”
“Yes, yes”, Frank said. “But really, I must go and see how my shipmates are doing!”
“Okie dokie! “I’ll take yuh to ‘em”
Bubba led Frank down the beach to a small cove. A quaint little house was situated on the far side of it, and the sounds of singing and merriment could be heard issuing from it. Bubba walked right up to it and, without even knocking on the door, walked right inside.
Frank followed and was relieved to see all of his crew inside, along with 2 other chipmunks, one short and one round. Bubba introduced them as his brothers, Stubba and Chubba. Frank was greeted warmly by all his shipmates, and then he retired to a pile of oak leaves that the chipmunks had prepared for him, exhausted yet jubilant.

Francois the Mouse, Chapter 1

If you haven’t figured out by now, I looooooooooove to write! I’ve written two stories so far, each of them about 25 notebook pages long, and I am working on transcribing them so you can enjoy there literary genius. (?)

Here is the first chapter of one of them, titled Francois the Mouse:

“The gale blew fiercely as the young mouse tried to keep his course. How many days has this been going on? He wondered quietly to himself. He’d just been on a routine mission, collecting tribute from the outlying islands when this very out of routine storm had stuck. He glanced at his log, now almost illegible, due to the salty spray. He squinted his eyes to read the running ink. “November 12”, it read. “Barometer falling. Wind from northeast quadrant. Location-” And there the words ran together, making them impossible to read. Oh well, the mouse thought, the 12th was 5 days ago, and we’ve travelled miles from where we were then. Then they were only a dozen miles from mainland, and now who knew where they were; they could be- The snapping of the jury mast brought the mouse back to reality. An older mouse, rather stout, but tough looking, came toward him.
“Cap’n sir. What do we do now? The jury mast took the stump of the main mast with ‘er when she went over. We can’t put up another mast, ‘specially in this storm, and without ‘er we can’t steer at all! We’ll drift about for who knows how long!”
“The currents will at least keep us away from any rocks or reefs”, the captain, whose name was Francois, replied. “The storm will abate sooner or later”.
“But sir”, the mouse replied. “We only have enough supplies for another fortnight, on half rations at that, and our water is getting tainted by salt. Better to face the risk of getting bashed on some reef than to face the certainty of us starvin’”.
“True, true mate. Take soundings. I’ll head towards the nearest land.”
Soundings were taken for the rest of the day, but the cable never touched bottom before it ran out. The mice were all getting restless, until suddenly a monstrous black object towered out of the darkness. It was moving at great speed, and smashed right into the side of the little ship. The ship scraped along it’s side for what seemed like hours until the end of the smooth black object finally came in sight. The mice cheered, but as they slid off the object’s side, they realized they’d spoken too soon. Two huge, spinning blade were thrashing the water, sending up jets of spray and creating an enormous current. No matter how hard the mice rowed, they could not withstand the force of it.

Chop, Chop, Chop. They got sucked closer. Chop, Chop, Chop. Francois closed his eyes and tried to close his ears. Chop, Chop, Chop. Francois heard an awful crunching sound. Then everything became a confused jumble of sounds and flashes and he knew no more.”

I hope you’ve liked the first chapter, I’ll have more coming soon!


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