“As a conquered king I have no choice but to accept your terms,” said Rex, in a tone so sad that it ended in a whine.
“Right you are,” said Wutz-Butz, cheerfully, not at all impressed by the king’s superior speech. “Call up your people, then, and I’ll tell mine to stop clawing while you issue your orders.”
Rex called the dogs together. “We are conquered, my people,” he said. “The terms upon which I have agreed to yield to this gentleman upon my back, who is the general of the cats, is that we remove far from Dog Corners, and go at once.”
The dogs growled at this announcement, but a claw-prick here and there reminded them that they were anxious to get rid, on almost any terms, of the soldiers clinging to them, and they changed their growl into yelps and howls of acclaim, submitting to the inevitable and the wisdom of their king.
“Now, then, Purrers,” shouted Ban-Ban, “don’t you jump off these dogs to the ground. You jump from their backs into the trees, and stay there until they are out of sight. How shall we know that they are really gone, and won’t come back?”
Rex turned on Ban-Ban a scornful face. “You look like a gentleman,” he said, “and if you are one you should know that no gentleman breaks his pledge. I give you my word that we will fulfil the terms of our surrender, and a dog is a person of honour.”
Ban-Ban felt rebuked, but ’Clipsy murmured: “You’re all right, old chap, but I wouldn’t trust all your people, if you weren’t here to keep them straight.”
“The cats watched the retreat.”
At a given signal all the dogs ran close to a tree, and his rider leaped from the back of each of them, ran up to a high bough, and from that point the cats watched the retreat of their conquered foes.