Wutz-Butz stood with his feet braced, and every separate hair bristling with fury. “It may come to-night,” he growled very low, and Ban-Ban, Laura, and Bidelia understood that he meant the dogs’ attack on Purrington, and thrilled at his words.
“There isn’t a moment to lose. We must consult the others, and arrange for meeting this attack,” cried Ban-Ban. “Bidelia and Madam Laura, Wutz-Butz and I must leave you to bring Nugget home when you are ready. Mrs. Brindle, you are a cow in a thousand. You are full of the milk of human kindness and fidelity to your friends. We will do something to prove how we appreciate you when this danger is past. Wutz-Butz, come on!” And Ban-Ban flew like a streak of quick-silver—he was about the same colour—down the street, and Wutz-Butz flew after him as fast as his greater weight allowed.
The big bell in the town hall had never been rung. When it was hung Doctor Traddles had given a lecture in the hall on an incident in Scottish history, when one of the lords had asked in council who would bell the cat. Doctor Traddles pointed out that they, being cats, would reverse the order of the question, and ask: Who will bell the council-room? It was considered a most happy allusion, and Tommy Traddles’s wit was still quoted. But the bell had never, till this day, been rung. Now it pealed forth, calling together all the Purrers of Purrington for a council of war.
Wutz-Butz, as the most experienced soldier, was in the chair, presiding over the meeting. The cats looked very serious. An attack on their city by dogs was not a thing to be regarded lightly.
“Gentlemen,” said Wutz-Butz, after a hasty whispered consultation with Tommy Traddles as to the proper way to proceed with the meeting, “I should be glad to hear from you what you consider the best way to meet the attack which Mrs. Brindle has warned us that the dogs of Dog Corners intend to make upon us.”
There were a great many good fighters in Purrington now, thanks to the number of cats who had joined the first settlers, and who had spent their days fighting for their lives in the human city’s streets; but they were better fighters than talkers, and no one responded to Wutz-Butz’s request for advice as to the best method of meeting the danger threatening them.
Finally Ban-Ban arose, looking around at the council. “I am not a fighting cat,” he said, “but since those who are seem shy about addressing us, let me state my opinion and offer my advice on the matter before us. We all know that those who attack are better placed than those who are attacked. They have but themselves to take care of, while the attacked have to consider their wives and children, and suffer the loss of their homes if the attack is at all successful. Hence I propose that, instead of waiting in Purrington for the dogs to attack us, we march on Dog Corners and wipe it off the map. We will send Brindle to find out when the dogs will be away, because, if they are free dogs, they must go off on long runs—even pet dogs do that. When we find out that most of the fighting dogs are absent, we will fall on their settlement and put to flight every puppy in it. It is right for us to do this, because as long as there is a dog village so near Purrington we shall never be safe.”
This speech, plain and to the point, was received with great applause. It was moved, seconded, and carried that the Purrers of Purrington should make war upon Dog Corners on the first day possible. Wutz-Butz was appointed Commander of the Cats, with ’Clipsy second in command, and Tommy Traddles and Ban-Ban staff-officers, for consultation.
A city guard was appointed for that night to patrol the streets and alarm the Purrers should the attack be made at once. Then the meeting broke up, but not until the cats had sung, to the air of “Hail Columbia:”
“Let the wild dogs now beware,