Four Mice Deep Jungle Read online

going to the Rio Mosquito?”

  she asked. Then she told

  me. It seemed Penelope

  had signed up to take some kind of special

  JUST SIGN HERE!

  36

  RIO MOSQUITO

  course. The course was only open to a few

  CHOICE RODENTS. Suddenly, she

  grabbed both of my paws. “I just had the

  greatest idea!” she squeaked. “Why don’t

  you come with me?” She pulled out a piece

  of paper from her bag. “All you have to do

  is sign this form!” she added.

  I didn’t know what to say. I had never met

  such a bold mouse before. Bold ... and

  charming.

  “Well, I’m sort of traveling with my

  family,” I began. I glanced at the back of the

  plane. My cousin was busy launching

  spitballs into the air. I pictured the vacation.

  Trap would probably be playing pranks on

  me the whole time. I’d end up with a knot

  in my tail and itching powder in my bed. I

  turned back to my new friend.

  “What kind of course is it?” I asked.

  37

  P.P. threw her

  paw around my

  shoulder. “TRUST

  me,” she murmured.

  “IT'S JUST WHAT

  YOU NEED. YOU’LL

  FEEL LIKE A NEW

  mouse!”

  Now I pictured

  myself in a lush

  green tropical paradise. Maybe we would do

  yoga by the pool. Or some deep-breathing

  exercises by the soothing ocean.

  “Are you sure it’s going to be relaxing?” I

  asked.

  “I guarantee it’s going to be the best thing

  for you,” P.P. insisted. She smiled

  flirtatiously.

  .

  . . o o h hm m m. . .

  38

  In a flash, she snatched up the form. For

  some reason, she had the strangest look on

  her face. No, it wasn’t a smile this time. It

  was more like a sneer.

  she squeaked.

  How very strange,

  I thought. Where

  had I heard

  those same

  words before?

  H

  o

  w

  v

  e

  r

  y

  s

  t

  r

  a

  n

  g

  e

  !

  “

  L

  e

  t

  t

  h

  e

  f

  u

  n

  a

  n

  d

  g

  a

  m

  e

  s

  b

  e

  g

  i

  n

  !

  ”

  I

  w

  a

  s

  c

  o

  m

  p

  l

  e

  t

  e

  l

  y

  c

  h

  a

  r

  m

  e

  d

  .

  39

  S

  o

  I

  s

  i

  g

  n

  e

  d

  .

  I left the plane. I had to find Thea. I

  wanted to introduce her to my new friend. I

  knew she would be thrilled to meet one of

  my fans. My sister calls me a bookworm,

  but I know she is proud of my success.

  “Thea!” I squeaked happily when I found

  her. “This is PENELOPE POISONFUR.

  She is a fan who has read all of my books!”

  My sister ignored me and turned to

  Penelope. “Well,

  did he sign?

  ” she asked.

  P.P. still had that same strange sneer on

  her face. “

  He signed it, all right!

  ” she

  laughed. “It was as easy as taking cheese

  niblets from a baby!”

  My mouth dropped open. What was she

  IT’S SIGNED AND

  SEALED, STILTON!

  talking about? And why did she sound so

  mean?

  Trap, Thea, and Benjamin were nodding

  their heads. “

  He signed it

  ,” they whispered

  to one another.

  Uh-oh. Something very odd was going on.

  What were they talking about? And why

  were they all staring at me? I didn’t like it

  one bit.

  “Who is he?” I asked, worried. “What did

  he sign?”

  Instead of answering,

  Thea, Trap, and Benjamin

  turned toward Penelope.

  She pointed her paw

  at me.

  “YOU have signed

  it, Stilton!” she shouted

  at the top of her lungs.

  “

  Y

  O

  U

  H

  A

  V

  E

  S

  I

  G

  N

  E

  D

  I

  T

  ,

  S

  T

  I

  L

  T

  O

  N

  !

  ”

  I gulped. What was going on? “But, P.P.,” I

  protested. “I don’t understand. What did I sign?”

  Penelope held up her paw in front of my

  face. “First of all,” she yelled, “forget the P.P.

  From now on, I’m Ms. Poisonfur to you!”

  My mouth dropped open in shock. She’d

  seemed like such a sweet mouse on the

  plane.

  “Don’t look so surprised, Stilton!” Ms.

  Poisonfur barked. “Just do as you’re told

  and don’t make a squeak. Now get on that

  jeep!” She pointed to a YELLOW TRUCK

  parked by the plane.

  I blinked. This was getting ridiculous.

  Who was this mouse? And why was she

  IT’S TOO LATE,

  STILTON!

  screaming at me? Before I could ask, she

  shoved a piece of paper in my face. It was

  the form that I had signed on the plane.

  “It’s too late, Stilton, you’ve already

  signed!” Penelope squeaked.

  I was beginning to get a terrible feeling in

  my stomach. I glanced at the form. It read:

  TO THE LAST WHISKER

  SURVIVAL SCHOOL

  “I’ve signed up for some kind of boot

  camp!” I screeched. “But I’m not the boot-

  camp type. I’m afraid of bugs and dirt and

  things that go squeak in the

  night. Plus, I look awful in

  khaki. It’s just not my

  color!”

  Oh, what had I gotten

  myself into this time? I

  decided I had only one

  “

  I

  t

  ’

  s

  t

  o

  o

  l

  a

  t

  e

  ,

  s

  t />
  i

  l

  t

  o

  n

  !

  ”

  43

  TO THE LAST WHISKER

  survival school

  I, the undersigned, agree to take part in the

  survival course offered by To the Last Whisker.

  The course will last for seven days. It will take

  place in Rattytrap Jungle on the Rio Mosquito.

  By signing this form, I agree to obey without

  question all of Ms. Penelope Poisonfur’s orders.

  Should I refuse to take part in the course or to obey Ms. Poisonfur, I promise to pay a fine of

  one million dollars.

  Signed:

  Geronimo Stilton

  Tarantula Trail 115

  Rattytrap Jungle — Rio Mosquito

  choice. I’d have to make a run for it. But

  just as I turned to leave, Penelope grabbed

  me by the tail.

  “Get in the jeep, Stilton!”

  she ordered. Then she handed

  me a magnifying glass.

  “You haven’t read the small print,” she

  smirked.

  I read the last line on the form out loud.

  “Should I refuse to take part in the course

  or to obey Ms. Poisonfur, I promise to pay a

  fine of ONE M-M-M-M-MILLION

  dollars,” I stammered. This was

  outrageous! “But I don’t have

  one million dollars!” I cried.

  My paws were shaking.

  Penelope shot me an

  evil look. “Exactly!”

  she sneered. “NOW

  GET IN THAT JEEP!”

  H

  h

  m

  m

  m

  .

  .

  .

  “I’LL FIX YOU ALL RIGHT, STILTON!”

  I stumbled forward. I must be having a bad

  dream, I thought. I closed my eyes. But when

  I opened them, Ms. Poisonfur was glaring

  at me.

  My family watched as I climbed into the

  jeep. “Benjamin,” I squeaked. “How could you

  trick me like this?”

  My favorite nephew had tears in his eyes.

  “Uncle, it’s for your own good! I promise!”

  Thea nodded her head. “That’s right,” she

  chimed in. “You’ll thank us.”

  Trap winked at me. “The week will just fly

  by, you’ll see!” he added.

  “Don’t worry!” Ms. Poisonfur squeaked.

  Then she punched me hard in the shoulder.

  I winced. This was one tough mouse. “I’ll

  fix you!” she sneered.

  47

  “

  I

  ’

  l

  l

  fi

  x

  y

  o

  u

  a

  l

  l

  r

  i

  g

  h

  t

  ,

  s

  t

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  l

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  o

  n

  !

  ”

  The jeep made its way along a paved road.

  Soon the road turned into a beaten track.

  Then it became a MUDDY path.

  It was so hot I felt like a walking sprinkler.

  I was dripping sweat! Clouds of mosquitoes

  swarmed around me. They were having a

  party in my fur. I figured my tail was their

  dinner. They were making a meal

  out of it. What if they gave me

  some rare disease?

  I'M AFRAID OF DISEASES!

  We reached the camp in the middle

  of the night. It looked like an army

  barracks. It stood in the middle of

  a clearing surrounded by

  very tall trees.

  I’M AFRAID OF BUGS!

  48

  I was so tired. I fell onto a smelly bunk

  bed. I tried not to think about the fleas that

  were probably crawling in it. Ugh!

  I'M AFRAID OF BUGS!

  Exhausted, I fell asleep fully dressed. That

  night, I kept hearing Trap’s voice in my

  dreams. “Just don’t think about it!” he

  chanted over and over.

  At dawn, Penelope gave me a wake-up

  call. She poured a bucketful of icy water on

  my head! “LINE UP!” she shrieked.

  I looked outside. That’s when I discovered

  there were four other mice taking this crazy

  jungle course.

  I was about to slip into the green jumpsuit

  I’d found in my closet. But, even though I

  was in the hot jungle, I’d put on a clean

  undershirt first. I love my undershirts. I

  wear one all the time, even in the summer.

  That’s because I'M AFRAID OF DRAFTS.

  Unfortunately, Penelope was watching

  me. Before I could put one paw through my

  undershirt, she snatched it away and

  squeaked at the top of her lungs,

  DAY 1: MONDAY

  50

  1

  the article of clothing a real mouse Would not wear is the undershirt (2).

  answer:

  3

  u

  n

  d

  e

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  i

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  ,

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  ”

  A Game for Real Mice

  find the article of clothing

  a real mouse would not wear.

  6

  4

  2

  5

  “

  R

  e

  a

  l

  M

  i

  c

  e

  d

  o

  n

  ’

  t

  W

  e

  a

  r

  52

  I cringed, then put on the jumpsuit.

  Penelope threw an enormous backpack at

  me. It weighed a ton. I’d be lucky if I could

  take one pawstep.

  Meanwhile, Penelope lifted her own

  backpack without batting an eyelash. Then I

  followed her outside.

  “FORWARD MARCH!” she yelled.

  We left camp and began our long trek.

  I introduced myself to the other mice.

  G

  e

  r

  o

  n

  i

  m

  o

  S

  t

  i

  l

  t

  o

  n

  “Good morning, everyone,” I said. “My

  name is Stilton, Geronimo Stilton.”

  A big, tough, muscled mouse nodded at

  me. He wore his fur in a crew cut. “I’m Burt

  Burlyrat. But you can call me B.B.,” he

  announced. “I’m a forest ranger.”

  Next to B.B. stood a short,

  round rodent. He clasped

  my paw. “How do you

  do, my name is Tubby

  Tumblemouse,” he said.

  Then he whispered,

  “My friends call me

  Furball.” I smiled. Tubby

  seemed like a nice mouse.

  I wondere
d why

  he had signed up

  for this course.

  53

  Burt Burlyrat, RAT

  aka B.B.

  Tubby told me he was a cheese

  salesmouse. He had put on a few extra

  pounds eating too many samples. “I thought

  this was an easy weight-loss course. Ms.

  Poisonfur told me it would be like a mini

  vacation,” he explained. Sweat dripped

  down his fur. “She didn’t tell me we’d be

  forced to run twenty miles a day!”

  “W-w-what?” I stammered,

  sinking under the heavy

  backpack. “Twenty miles a

  day? I’m never going

  to make it! I’ve got low

  blood pressure! I’ve got

  low iron! I’ve got low self-

  esteem!” This was going to

  be worse than I’d thought.

  “Oh, how did I get

  myself into this mess?!”

  TUBBY

  TUMBLEMOUSE,

  AKA FURBALL

  54

  I sobbed, burying my snout in my paws.

  Tubby put his paw around my shoulder.

  “Don’t panic, Geronimo,” he whispered.

  “I’ve brought an emergency supply

  of cheese sandwiches.

  They’re hidden in my

  backpack.”

  Just then, a teenaged

  mouse with pigtails

  scampered over. “Hi,

  there!” she chirped.

  “I’m Suzie Squeakers.”

  Next came an elderly female

  rodent. She was

  small and skinny

  , with wiry fur.

  She wore a pair of thick glasses and a

  purple baseball cap. She introduced

  herself as Sandy Silverfur. Sandy was old, but

  you wouldn’t find her in any old mouse

  home. Not yet, anyway. Sandy loved to

  55

  Suzie

  Squeakers

  live dangerously. In

  fact, you could say she was a

  bit of a daredevil. She once

  went scuba diving off the

  shores of Tomcat Island!

  Unlike Sandy and B.B.,

  hiking through the jungle

  was not my idea of a good

  time. Within minutes, my

  paws were covered with

  blisters.

  Suddenly, a

  terrible screeching