The Hunters

The Hunters, by William
Morrison

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Title: The Hunters
Author: William Morrison
Illustrator: Van Dongen
Release Date: September 6, 2007 [EBook #22524]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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HUNTERS ***

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THE HUNTERS

BY WILLIAM MORRISON
ILLUSTRATED BY VAN DONGEN
To all who didn't know him, Curt George was a mighty hunter and
actor. But this time he was up against others who could really act, and
whose business was the hunting of whole worlds.
There were thirty or more of the little girls, their ages ranging
apparently from nine to eleven, all of them chirping away like a flock
of chicks as they followed the old mother hen past the line of cages.
"Now, now, girls," called Miss Burton cheerily. "Don't scatter. I can't
keep my eye on you if you get too far away from me. You, Hilda, give
me that water pistol. No, don't fill it up first at that fountain. And
Frances, stop bouncing your ball. You'll lose it through the bars, and a
polar bear may get it and not want to give it back."
Frances giggled. "Oh, Miss Burton, do you think the polar bear would
want to play catch?"
The two men who were looking on wore pleased smiles. "Charming,"
said Manto. "But somewhat unpredictable, despite all our experiences,
muy amigo."
[Illustration]
"No attempts at Spanish, Manto, not here. It calls attention to us. And
you are not sure of the grammar anyway. You may find yourself saying
things you do not intend."
"Sorry, Palit. It wasn't an attempt to show my skill, I assure you. It's
that by now I have a tendency to confuse one language with another."
"I know. You were never a linguist. But about these interesting
creatures--"
"I suggest that they could stand investigation. It would be good to know
how they think."

"Whatever you say, Manto. If you wish, we shall join the little ladies."
"We must have our story prepared first."
Palit nodded, and the two men stepped under the shade of a tree whose
long, drooping, leaf-covered branches formed a convenient screen. For
a moment, the tree hid silence. Then there came from beneath the
branches the chatter of girlish voices, and two little girls skipped
merrily away. Miss Burton did not at first notice that now she had an
additional two children in her charge.
"Do you think you will be able to keep your English straight?" asked
one of the new little girls.
The other one smiled with amusement and at first did not answer. Then
she began to skip around her companion and chant, "I know a secret, I
know a secret."
There was no better way to make herself inconspicuous. For some time,
Miss Burton did not notice her.
* * * * *
The polar bears, the grizzlies, the penguins, the reptiles, all were left
behind. At times the children scattered, but Miss Burton knew how to
get them together again, and not one was lost.
"Here, children, is the building where the kangaroos live. Who knows
where kangaroos come from?"
"Australia!" clanged the shrill chorus.
"That's right. And what other animals come from Australia?"
"I know, Miss Burton!" cried Frances, a dark-haired nine-year-old with
a pair of glittering eyes that stared like a pair of critics from a small
heart-shaped face. "I've been here before. Wallabies and wombats!"
"Very good, Frances."

Frances smirked at the approbation. "I've been to the zoo lots of times,"
she said to the girl next to her. "My father takes me."
"I wish my father would take me too," replied the other little girl, with
an air of wistfulness.
"Why don't you ask him to?" Before the other little girl could answer,
Frances paused, cocked her head slightly, and demanded, "Who are you?
You aren't in our class."
"I'm in Miss Hassel's class."
"Miss Hassel? Who is she? Is she in our school?"
"I don't know," said the other little girl uncertainly. "I go to P. S. 77--"
"Oh, Miss Burton," screamed Frances. "Here's a girl who isn't in our
class! She got lost from her own class!"
* * * * *
"Really?" Miss Burton seemed rather pleased at the idea that some
other teacher had been so careless as to lose one of her charges.
"What's your name, child?"
"I'm Carolyn."
"Carolyn what?"
"Carolyn Manto. Please, Miss Burton,