The Adventures of Button (5 page)

Buttons gasped and then said, “Oh, it’s you again, Rarebit. Boy, were you quiet.”

Suddenly, he leaped, sailing effortlessly over their head to splash in the shallow waters of the swamp. He surfaced, but only his goggling large eyes showed. They watched unblinking. Then he leaped again, this time landing directly in front of them.

“As I should be when strange creatures invade my wet and lovely domain.” He hummed to himself as his large eyes stared fixedly at them. Lean for a frog, he was smooth-skinned with varying shades of green. He seldom smiled, but Sally and Buttons knew his odd sense of humor. Both dogs loved him for his knowledge of the swamp and his inquiring mind.

“First,” Buttons said, “we are not strange, as you well know, and secondly, you might have announced yourself.”

Of course, he never did. Rarebit’s throat puffed in and out as he surveyed them, his eyes occasionally closing in their slow fashion. “You just saw me. In the swamp.” He stared even harder at them.

Sally frowned, her eyebrows coming together as she tried to keep up with Rarebit’s thinking. “Of course, we saw you. What’s the matter?”

Rarebit puffed and huffed some more, his eyes remaining fixed on them. “All of me?”

Buttons answered. “Of course not. Only your eyes.”

“Then you have the answer. There are other eyes just like that in the swamp, but much further apart.”

Both dogs laughed. “You’re repeating yourself again. You and Ms. Lucie just told us about something strange in the swamp. You’re both daft, you know.”

Rarebit suddenly leaped straight up, twisted in the air, and landed behind Sally, who in turn leaped sideways at the unexpected maneuver.

Rarebit watched Sally momentarily from his new position. “Gotcha!” With that he leaped into the swamp and sat there watching the two, who sat on the beach. “Remember.” He turned and disappeared, leaving hardly a ripple on the water’s surface.

Sally’s sides heaved with frustration. “So, help me. The next time he does that, I’m going to have frog legs for dinner.”

Buttons giggled. Rarebit was something of the area’s map maker and he knew the swamp like the back of his foot. He often discussed it with Ms. Lucie, but rarely disclosed much to the two dogs. In the past, both of them had suffered from Rarebit’s unpredictable antics. As they would walk along the water’s edge, he would appear seemingly out of the air—in front of them, behind them, or from behind a clump of reeds. At other times, they would find him busily sketching lines in the sand, stepping back to survey his handy work, dropping forward to erase some errant line, and then carefully redoing his previous effort, all the time humming to himself. As preoccupied as he appeared, he was never to be caught by surprise, try as they might.

On more than one occasion, they had crept up to the swamp, carefully maneuvering so that they approached from downwind. Circling with caution after they had located him, they would rush forward, barking furiously, only to find his expected location empty. Then, a sudden “Gotcha” would sound behind them and he would disappear into the swamp, chuckling in his throat.

At such times, Buttons and Sally would look sideways at one another and burst out laughing at their ridiculous failure.

Slowly shaking her head side to side in disgust, Sally glanced at Buttons. “Well, wonder where he’s off to now,” she queried. “And just what did he mean by his crazy actions?”

“Undoubtedly off to survey another cove in the swamp,” a small voice sounded above them.

Both looked up, startled by the clear, crisp speech. Bouncing gently in the breeze, an elegant but small bird perched on the overhanging branch of an oak tree. Very prim in appearance, she cocked her head and went on with scant interruption. “You well know that Rarebit must measure everything within reach.”

Buttons sat up and greeted the bird with a nod. “Good morning, again, Ms. Lucie. And how are you today?”

The sparrow appreciated decorous behavior almost as much as she insisted on perfection and a precise mind. Her speech was always well-modulated, though her discussions with Rarebit were famous for their biting comments.

She looked down. “Ah, Sally. And of course, Buttons.” She cocked her head to survey them the better, as though she hadn’t just seen them a bit earlier. This type of inspection always discomfited the two dogs, but they were getting used to it.

Buttons bristled, but only grunted again, “Morning, Ma’am.”

The genteel Ms. Lucie clearly preferred the slim and tidier beagle to the Scottish terrier who all too often looked quite ratty after a morning rambling about in the woods.

“And a good morning to you,” she replied. “Both.”

Sally bumped Buttons ever so slightly. Sitting very carefully, she said, “Rarebit was just here.”

“Yes, I know. I sent him. Leaping hither and yon, I imagine.”

Buttons couldn’t help it. She groaned. Not another warning. She slumped onto her hip and took a deep breath.

Ms. Lucie would have corrected Buttons’s posture, but she had other matters that needed immediate attention. She simply reaffirmed Rarebit’s message.

“Just remember, there is something strange and mysterious going on in the swamp. You, both of you, will pay attention. Do you understand?” She was frowning quite hard by now as she too stared at the two below her.

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied, “we’ll be very careful. Thank you.”

“Hmmmm,” Ms. Lucie was not so certain, but she must be off. With one last warning, she took flight and was almost immediately out of sight.

Sally sighed. “Wow, she’s really odd today.”

Buttons just snorted. “Probably mislaid an egg.”

That broke Sally up and their peals of laughter could be heard with ease at a great distance. And, it was at a distance that something decided to investigate the sounds further. Sounded good enough to eat was the only thought as it quietly submerged into the dark depths of the swamp.

Buttons rushed to Sally who easily evaded the attempt at her tail. Off they raced, splashing down the muddy margin of the marsh. They finally slowed. The heat was building and they sought the shade of tree where they collapsed, panting at their sudden exercise. But shortly, Buttons was up and exploring the area, her nose to the ground. Sally watched as she lay on her side, then she, too, rose and moved to the swamp’s edge for a drink. She then began to sniff.

Metal, rusty metal, could be faintly detected in the water. That meant only one thing—another trap. But where? Buttons looked at her friend who was standing quite still as she sampled the air. It might be anywhere along the shore, but typically the stake had to be in good, solid earth. Without hesitation, both moved toward the edge of the sand and began to slowly move along it, being very careful with each step.

Buttons suddenly grunted, and then pawed the soil very carefully. Sally moved alongside, casting about for any evidence of the chain. Then, she, too, began to dig. Very slowly, gently sweeping dirt and sand aside. In a moment, they had uncovered a length of chain, very rusty and obviously very old.

Sally and Buttons both sat, momentarily just looking at one another. Then Sally spoke up, “Boy, just how many times have we come this way? Gives me the shivers.”

“Me, too,” added Buttons. “We could have run right over it, must have. Come on, let’s get it out.”

Both set to work, working in opposite directions. The chain was indeed fastened to a stake, now sunk quite deep in the dirt and very near the shade of the tree where they had dozed on more than one occasion. Buttons found the trap and they both set to work, digging the sand away from it. As they had thought, it was deeper than usual, and soon both had their heads down in the hole as they busily dug the sand away.

As they worked, the surface of the water offshore roiled to an unseen disturbance within the dark depths. Then, with no sound whatsoever, two round and bulbous eyes appeared. Small droplets of water ran down their brows, but there was no other movement. Nearby, several turtles dozing in the sun on a partially rotten limb that protruded above the surface paid no attention. So quietly had the eyes appeared. Two nostrils as quietly appeared above the water. Only the four protuberances gave evidence that more, much more, lay below. The eyes slowly turned their attention toward the two small dogs digging in the soft sand on the shore.

“Hmmmm,” thought their owner, “a very nice morsel indeed.”

Nostrils and eyes smoothly glided forward, the water barely disturbed by their passage. As land was touched, the creature burst out of the water, sand churned and was tossed in all directions, and a huge spray of water covered the shore. The creature bellowed as he rushed across the narrow strip of sand that lay between him and his prey. He was upon them in a fraction of a second.

Young they might be, and small, even for their ages. But slow? Never! With the yawning gap of the jaws rushing toward her, Sally leaped up and away. Buttons spun on her tail as the jaws clashed together in a thunderous chomp.

The alligator, for that was what their attacker was, in turn spun after Sally. As he turned toward Sally, he swiped at Buttons with his tail. He missed, but not by much. His teeth clashed just behind Sally as his tail missed by a scant inch of battering Buttons. Sally raced in twisting circles. The great creature kept himself between her and the sheltering trees. Buttons could do nothing but bark furiously. Her attempt to distract their attacker failed. His eyes were fixed on Sally. Buttons was ignored. For the moment. One quick chomp and he would be after the black one next.

“Sally,” Buttons yelled, “The trap . . . remember?” Her words came in broken fragments as mud and water flew. Sally was panting with great effort. Her lungs burned with the effort of evading the alligator. Buttons raced to and fro. Nothing distracted their adversary.

Buttons frantically rushed forward. She must do something. Sally could not hold out much longer. With all of her strength, Buttons grabbed the tail of the alligator. Her answer was a bellow from the creature who snapped his tail, sending her flying. She landed with a splash of muck and mud. She hurtled herself once again upon the creature, yapping furiously as she did so. The reptile ignored Buttons’s frantic efforts. She was too fast for him, but the other was tiring rapidly. He assailed the beagle once more.

Bellowing lustily, he charged at Sally, his large eyes gleaming with hunger and anger.

However, Buttons’s brief attack had given Sally the breath she needed. This time, instead of running in circles, Sally raced in ever-widening spirals, twisting and turning so that her tail was ever before the gator, but just out of reach, leading him to the trap.

Buttons’s voice came to her over the heated attack. “More to the right. Almost. A little more. Now, be careful. Jump. Jump, give it all you got!”

Sally did as she as ordered, leaping blindly into the air with the last gasp of air in her throbbing lungs. She hit the dirt with a thud, and rolling over, came to her feet just as the alligator once again snapped at her.

There was a loud grating sound as the jaws of the trap closed. Rusty with age, the trap’s teeth still could bite. And hard. They snapped together, holding the gator’s foreleg in their unrelenting grasp.

He flopped forward on his nose, short of Sally by a hair’s breadth. Sand flew in all directions, covering both dogs and alligator. The alligator began bawling in pain and fright. He thrashed to and fro in a frenzy of fear. Dirt, sand, and leaves flew with each thrashing movement. He hurtled himself side to side. When that was to no avail, he rolled back and forth. But each time, he was firmly held to the one spot by his right forepaw which was firmly grasped in the jaws of the old, rusted trap.