the general studied the map of the wild men’s island which the turk had drawn, in the hope that he could figure out a way to attack the saboes without storming their fort. in storming the fort, the general felt sure that many of his soldiers might be injured and he wished to rout the enemy with as little damage as possible.
“i have it! i have it!” exclaimed the general one morning as he sat studying the tiny map. “we can hire a mole to tunnel under the wild men’s fort and then we can blow it up with a firecracker.”
“bully!” shouted the old soldier. “and before they get over the surprise of the explosion we can charge through the destroyed fort into the village.”
“that’s the idea,” smiled the general. “we’ll go over to-morrow and engage the old mole who lives down by the river.”
“moles are great engineers,” said the doctor, “and what they don’t know about underground digging isn’t worth knowing.”
the next day the general and the doctor, with an escort of four soldiers, set out on the journey to the mole’s home.
“s-s-say, what is a m-m-mole anyhow?” asked the dunce as the little party marched along.
“a mole? why, a mole—let’s see, a mole—why a mole is a mole,” answered gogo.
“i’ll tell you what a mole is like,” laughed the doctor, who had overheard the dunce’s question. “a mole is an animal almost the size of a rat and he lives under the ground. he has very small eyes and ears, and he very seldom comes out in the day time, for it is pretty hard for him to see in the bright sunlight. he has very short and powerful legs with which he can dig very fast. he lives on worms and grubs and roots, and he is usually very gruff and bad-tempered.”
presently the little party came to the place where the mole lived and the general ordered the soldiers to halt. they had stopped by the side of a steep bank and near the top was a hole under the roots of a tree, which was the front door of the mole’s home.
“dress up in line, men!” commanded the general, “and when mr. mole comes to the door of his house i want you all to present arms, for we will have to use the greatest diplomacy in order to engage this fellow.”
the general stepped up near the bank and called loudly several times into the hole and presently a long furry nose appeared in the opening.
“well, what do you mean by awakening honest people out of a sound sleep?” growled the mole. “what is it? what do you want?”
“i beg your pardon,” said the general as he lifted his hat and made a low bow; “i’m awfully sorry i disturbed your rest, but having heard of your reputation as an engineer i have come to beg your services for the teenie weenie army. we want to engage you to dig a trench for us.”
“i’ll work for four fat white grubs a day and not a grub less,” snapped the mole.
“that’s quite satisfactory,” answered the general. “we are willing to pay whatever you ask, but i want you to know just what the work will be. we want you to dig a tunnel in the ground so we can explode a mine in it.”
“i don’t care a snap of my tail what kind of work it is; all i want is my pay,” growled the mole.
“when may we expect you?” asked the general.
“to-morrow at four o’clock, not a minute sooner or later,” answered the mole.
“shall we have breakfast for you?” asked the general.
“why, certainly! why, certainly!” exclaimed the mole. “how in the name of angleworms do you expect me to work without food? what do you suppose i’m workin’ for—pleasure?”
“we’ll have a couple of nice young grubs for you,” said the general politely, although he was quite disturbed by the mole’s ungentlemanly manner.
“two grubs and a couple of angleworms would make me work better,” suggested the mole.
“you shall have them,” answered the general stiffly. “good day to you, sir.” lifting his hat politely, he ordered the soldiers to march back to camp.
