Free Lost in the Dark Unchanted Forest by John R. Erickson

dripping wet, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He came running over to me, throwed his arms around my neck, and liked to have strangled me with love.
    â€œHankie, you came back! I’m so gwad!”
    â€œWell, of course I came back. Did you think I was going to leave you to the buzzards and the bobcats?”
    He released me and stepped back. His eyes had grown as big as plates. “Did you see that big old tigoo?”
    â€œIt was a bob . . . no, maybe it was a tiger. Yes, I’m sure it was, probably the biggest tiger ever seen in Ochiltree County.”
    â€œThe big old tigoo was going to eat me, but then two wolfs came and wan him away!”
    â€œYeah, well, I hope you understand who brought the wolves, son. They were pals of mine and I asked them to do a little favor for me, see, and, well, you know the rest of the story. I hope you’ll remember this the next time your ma starts chunking rocks at me.”
    The smile on his face faded. His lower lip began to tremble and a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye. “I want to go home. I miss my mommy.”
    I lifted my head to a stern angle and gave him a severe looking-over. “I thought she was mean. I thought you were going to run away from home. I thought you didn’t like your new baby sister. What’s the deal?”
    â€œI don’t wike tigoos and I’m cold and I’m hungwee and I want my mommy!”
    â€œAll wight . . . all right, that is, don’t cwy anymore, cry anymore. I’ll take you home as soon as this rain lets up, but you’ve got to promise to quit pulling my tail and being a little brat. Can you do that?” He nodded. “All right, raise your right hand and repeat the Pledge: I promise to quit being a little brat.”
    â€œI pwomise to quit being a wittle bwat.”
    â€œForever and ever and always.”
    â€œForevoh and evoh and always.”
    â€œSo help me . . .”
    Suddenly I heard a fluttering noise behind me. Thinking that we were about to be attacked by Sinister the Bobcat or by my cannibal friends, I bristled, bared my fangs, whirled around, and cut loose with a deep ferocious bark.
    Oh. Buzzards. Two of them. Wallace and Junior.
    â€œHi there, neighbor,” said Wallace, “it’s kindly damp out there on the limb, don’t reckon y’all would mind sharing this nice dry cave with—move over, Junior, you’re a-crowdin’ me, son—and if y’all don’t mind, we’ll just sit in here ’til this shower passes over, is what we had in mind.”
    I swaggered over to the old man. “Are you the same guy who was up in that tree, waiting for my little pal to get attacked by a bobcat?”
    His beak dropped open. “No sir, I did not, in fact I said to Junior, and these here are my very words, I said, ‘Junior, you git yourself down there and help that boy!’”
    â€œI heard what you said, buzzard, and it would serve you right if I throwed you out into the rain.”
    â€œNow, I never, you must have misunderstood; Junior, are you gonna just sit there and let this dog . . .”
    â€œY-y-yeah, c-cause you d-d-did s-say that and I h-h-heard you.”
    Wallace glared at him. “Tattletale!”
    â€œI m-may b-be a t-t-t-t-t-tattletale, but y-you t-t-told a b-b-big fat l-l-l-lie, big fat lie.”
    â€œThat’s exactly right, buzzard,” I said. “You told a big fat lie.”
    Wallace’s eyes darted back and forth between me and Junior. “Well, what did you expect? It’s hard to be a Christian and a buzzard at the same time.”
    â€œThat’s no excuse, and unless you agree to take some punishment for being such a creep, you can just stand outside in the rain.”
    Wallace narrowed his eyes to slits. “I ain’t ever took NO punishment from NO dog, and I ain’t fixin’ to start now, and I’ll go