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Authors: Duncan Ball

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BOOK: Selby Snowbound
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‘You didn’t have a thingy on top?’

‘No. What kind of thingy?’

‘A marshmallowy sort of thingy,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘It was the tastiest part of the whole meal.’

‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘I think she’s talking about the slug.’

‘What exactly did this marshmallowy thingy taste like?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘Well it wasn’t sweet,’ said Aunt Jetty. ‘And it was sort of soft and gooey. It really was out of this world. I could have a whole plate full of them.’

‘I can’t believe it! Aunt Jetty
ate
the slug!’ Selby thought, trying not to laugh out loud. ‘Oh, this is the perfect ending to a perfect day! I’m so glad the Trifles took me to the dinner. I haven’t had so much fun in years!’

SELBY SNOWBOUND
SELBY’S ULTIMATE ADVENTURE

‘What do you think is the tallest mountain in the world?’ asked the Trifles’ mountaineer friend, Wilfred Crampon, as he paced back and forth in his huge mountaineering boots.

‘Is this a trick question?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Mount Everest, of course. Everyone knows that.’

‘Wrong, wrong and double wrong,’ the mountaineer said. ‘Everyone
thinks
that Mount Everest is the tallest mountain in the world but it most definitely is not.’

‘Surely it’s been measured, Crampy,’ Dr Trifle said, using Wilfred Crampon’s nickname.

‘Of course it’s been measured. But you can’t tell if a mountain is the tallest by just measuring
it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Simple dimple: you not only have to measure
it
but also every other mountain in the world to see if there’s a higher one,’ the mountaineer explained.

‘Crampy’s got a point,’ Selby thought as he lay on the carpet listening to the conversation and trying to keep his tail out of the way of Crampy’s boots.

‘So you’re saying that there’s a mountain that’s never been measured but that you think is taller than Mount Everest?’ said Mrs Trifle.

‘I
know
it is!’

‘But how could the mountain measurers have missed it?’ Dr Trifle asked.

‘Simp dimp: they never noticed it. You see it’s in the farthest corner of Antarctica. I discovered it three months ago when I was on my One-Man-Across-Antarctica expedition. I was zipping along on my snow-mobile when suddenly
bang!
There it was smack dab in front
of me! For a minute I thought I had a touch of mountain madness.’

‘Mountain madness?’ Dr Trifle asked.

‘People who spend a lot of time in freezing cold snowy places sometimes see things that aren’t there. But the mountain definitely was there and I’ve got pictures to prove it.’

‘So then you whipped out one of those measuring telescope things,’ Dr Trifle said excitedly, ‘and measured it and then made trigonometric calculations and — Bob’s your uncle — you found out that it was taller than Mount Everest! Great work, Crampy!’

‘Well… not exactly,’ Crampy Crampon said, scratching his scraggly beard.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Bob wasn’t my uncle. I mean I didn’t have one of those measuring thingies. And, besides, I’m hopeless at trigono-whatsis.’

‘But you’re sure it’s higher than Mount Everest?’

‘I can tell by just looking at it. It’s really really really really really
really
tall!’ Crampy said, raising his hand up and almost hitting the ceiling. ‘Which is at least one
really
taller than Mount Everest.’

‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Mrs Trifle. ‘Just tell everyone about the mountain. Someone is bound to dash down to Antarctica to measure it properly.’

‘Not on your life! They might climb it too. And I want to be the first to climb it.’

‘You want to climb it? ‘Dr Trifle said.

‘Well, I
am
a mountaineer and it
is
a mountain. Hey, I’ve got an idea!’ Crampy cried. ‘Let’s all go to Antarctica!’

‘Are you serious?’ Dr and Mrs Trifle said at exactly the same time.

‘Deadly,’ said Crampy. ‘You can make those trigono-whatsis calculations while I climb the mountain. It’ll be the ultimate adventure.’

‘The ultimate adventure?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Doesn’t
ultimate
mean
last?’

‘It also means the best. This is going to be the greatest adventure ever!’

‘That sounds great but when would we go?’

‘How about Wednesday?’

‘So soon?’

‘My TV program about crossing Antarctica is about to be on TV and when people see Mount Crampon there’ll be mountaineers from all over
the world racing down there to be the first to climb it.’

‘Mount Crampon?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You’ve named it after yourself.’

‘Well, not yet. To get a mountain named after you you have to be the first person to climb it and then you leave your name at the top. It’s an old tradition.’

With this Crampy Crampon whipped a flag out of his pocket that said:

‘Oh, and bring Selby along,’ Crampy added. ‘Dogs are good luck on expeditions. I’m sure he’ll like it.’

‘Like it? I’ll love it!’ Selby screamed in his brain. ‘Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I get to go on a
real live Antarctic expedition! Look out icebergs! Look out penguins! Look out mountains! Here I come!’

So it was that on the following Wednesday, Crampy Crampon, Dr and Mrs Trifle, and Selby found themselves winging their way towards Antarctica in Crampy’s own personal ski-plane with the mountaineer at the controls.

‘The race is on,’ Crampy said. ‘Everybody saw my TV show last night and now hundreds of mountaineers are planning to go to Antarctica and climb Mount Crampon. Fortunately, they don’t know exactly where it is so we’ll have a good head start.’

Selby sat covered from head to paw in the special mountaineers’ cold weather clothes that Mrs Trifle had made for him.

‘This is sooooo exciting!’ Selby thought. ‘Look at all that snow down there! I can’t wait to make a snowdog!’

The plane flew deep into Antarctica and slid to a stop high up on a glacier just below the peak of the mammoth mountain.

‘Okay,’ Crampy said as he started off, ‘you stay with the plane. You can measure the mountain while I climb it.’

‘Okay, Crampy,’ Dr Trifle said.

‘And if it gets windy while I’m gone don’t forget to tie the plane down. Oh and look out for crevasses.’

‘Crevasses?’ Dr Trifle said.

‘Yes, those big deep cracks in a glacier. First rule of mountaineering: don’t fall in one. Okay, guys, I’ll see ya when I see ya.’

Crampy Crampon climbed up and up and for the first hour, Dr Trifle pointed a measuring telescope at the top of the mountain and then down to the valley below. Then he made lots of trigono-something calculations.

‘I’m afraid Crampy is going to be bitterly disappointed,’ Dr Trifle said finally as he blew on his hands to warm them up. ‘The mountain isn’t as high as Mount Everest. It’s just a tad shorter.’

‘Exactly how much of a tad shorter is it?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘Well not even a tad — a tiny fraction of a tad. If my calculations are correct Mount
Everest is just forty-three centimetres taller than Mount Crampon.’

‘That’s too bad,’ Selby thought. ‘Oh, well, at least Crampy will be the first to climb the
second
highest mountain in the world.’

All day long the Trifles watched the mountaineer through binoculars as he climbed up and up the steep slope. But then, just as Crampy was nearing the top, a wind came up. Within minutes the whole mountain had disappeared in clouds of blowing snow.

‘I think we’d better tie the plane down before the wind hits us too,’ Mrs Trifle said, grabbing some spikes and ropes.

Selby watched from inside the tiny plane as the Trifles struggled against the freezing wind, tying more and more ropes to the plane to keep it from blowing away.

‘There are times when it’s good to be a dog,’ he thought. ‘And one of those times is when there’s freezing cold work to do.’

Suddenly there was a crackle on the radio.

‘Help! Can anyone hear me?’ Crampy’s voice cried. There was a long pause and then: ‘I didn’t make it to the top and now the wind just
blew my goggles away and my eyes are icing up! I can’t see a thing! This could be the last time you hear from me! Goodbye, good Trifles! Goodbye!’

‘Oh, no! What am I going to do?!’ Selby said aloud. ‘I’ve got to tell the Trifles! But what can
they
do?! They’re not mountaineers any more than I am. And without Crampy we’re doomed! We need him to fly the plane.’

Selby looked out just in time to see a gust of wind blow Dr and Mrs Trifle end over end across the glacier. In a second
they’d
disappeared.

‘This is a disaster!’ Selby cried. ‘I need to save Dr and Mrs Trifle but I can’t go out there or I’ll be blown away too.’

Minutes passed and then Selby suddenly spied Crampy Crampon’s copy of
The Mountaineer’s Rescue Manual.
His eyes scanned the pages desperately looking for something — anything — that might help.

‘This is stupid,’ he thought, finally. ‘I can’t just sit here reading a book. I’ve got to get out there and see if I can find the Trifles. I only wish I was more of a rescuing type of dog instead of a sitting around and watching TV one. Oh well, here goes.’

Selby put on his thick gloves and goggles and pulled his hood down tight around his face. He grabbed a rope and tied it to the seat of the plane and climbed out. The blast of wind almost blew him away but he clung tight to the rope and, little by little, let it out until he was well behind the plane. Soon he came to a shallow crevasse and, looking down, he saw the Trifles lying motionless at the bottom.

Selby threw a special mountaineer’s ladder into the crevasse and climbed down.

‘The Trifles are alive!’ he thought as he could see they were still breathing. ‘But the fall must have knocked them out. I can’t possibly lift them so I’ll have to wake them up and get them to climb out.’

Selby shook them and watched as they slowly opened their eyes.

‘Where am I?’ Mrs Trifle said suddenly.

‘I don’t know,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘We seem to be lying on the ground somewhere. There’s ice and snow all around. I don’t think we’re in Bogusville.’

Selby cleared his throat and said: ‘Okay, guys. You’ve got to get out of here before you freeze to death, okay?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Selby, did you just speak?’

‘Yes, I did. Now just see if you can get to your feet and —’

‘When did you learn to talk?’ Dr Trifle interrupted.

‘A long time ago,’ Selby said. ‘Now come on —’

‘Exactly how
did
you learn to talk?’

‘I was just watching TV with you and suddenly I could understand everything that was being said,’ Selby said. ‘But never mind about that —’

‘Then you’ve been listening to our conversations for years,’ Mrs Trifle said, struggling to her feet. ‘You’ve heard all of our most private conversations — all those embarrassing things.’

‘I tried not to listen,’ Selby said.

‘But why didn’t you tell us sooner?’ Dr Trifle said.

Selby felt himself getting impatient.

‘Never mind! Now get to your feet, you two, and climb out of here and get back in the plane! That’s an order!’

Slowly the dumbfounded Trifles climbed up
the ladder and struggled back to the plane just as the wind died down again.

‘Okay, now, you stay right here while I see if I can rescue Crampy,’ Selby said. ‘He’s lost his goggles and he’s freezing to death.’

‘B-B-But he’s way up on the mountain,’ Dr Trifle protested.

‘And you’re only a dog,’ Mrs Trifle reminded him.

‘I know that,’ said Selby, ‘but someone’s got to rescue him and you’re in no shape to do it. So while the weather is good, I’ll just have to give it a go. Wish me luck,’ Selby said before closing the door to the plane and heading off.

Selby fought his way up the peak. Finally he saw a red dot lying in the snow just below the highest point on the mountain. Another hour passed until he reached the half-frozen figure of the mountaineer.

‘Okay,’ Selby said, brushing the snow off the mountaineer’s face. ‘Let’s make this easy on both of us. I’m Selby. I’m also a talking dog — and never mind how I learned to talk or any of that guff. You’re a mountain-climber who needs help. So I’m here to rescue you. Got it?’

Crampy opened his eyes and stared up at Selby. A sudden smile spread across his face.

‘Mountain madness,’ he muttered.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I’ve got mountain madness. This is what happens to mountaineers when they get stuck out in the cold for too long. They start seeing talking dogs.’

‘Have it your way,’ Selby said. ‘Can you walk?’

Crampy struggled to his feet and then fell on his face.

‘Well I guess that answers that,’ Selby said. ‘Okay, now I’m going to put a rope around you and pull you back down, okay?’

‘But I didn’t get to the top yet,’ Crampy protested. ‘It’s just up there — a couple of metres more.’

‘Forget it,’ Selby said. ‘We’re getting out of here. Anyway, Dr Trifle says it’s shorter than Mount Everest.’

‘Oh bum,’ said the disappointed climber.

Selby got out a length of rope, tied it around Crampy, and began pulling the man. But just then, the full force of the storm hit.

‘Careful!’ Crampy yelled. ‘Don’t go down
right there — there’s a cliff. Better go up over that hump up ahead and then go down.’

‘Right you are,’ Selby said pulling Crampy uphill, helped by a blast of wind.

‘I’ve got to stop,’ the exhausted Selby said finally. ‘I once saw a TV show about Eskimos making igloos. Let’s see if I can remember what they did.’

Selby got a knife out of Crampy’s backpack and quickly cut some slabs of hard snow. He made them into an igloo around Crampy. Then he climbed in and sealed up the doorway.

‘You’re very clever — for a dog,’ Crampy said. ‘I don’t think I’ve met a dog quite like you.’

‘No, you wouldn’t have,’ Selby said, still panting.

BOOK: Selby Snowbound
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