The tale of Brave Grandpa Emmet and the wooden crate.
Many years ago, in a time that is thankfully mostly past, fashionable ladies of a certain set coveted fur to adorn their clothes. Some even wore the entire pelt of a poor creature around their necks, its little legs dangling down over each shoulder like some beloved pet (why they didn't find it grotesque I cannot say).
White fur became the most coveted of all and the Hudsons Bay Company dispatched a boat to find the finest examples of arctic foxes. Pip's Grandpa Emmit and his family were kidnapped from their home on the Aleutian islands, where they had lived happily on the tundra near the wild rocky shore, and wrestled into a rusty cage that was left on the deck of the ship.
During the long and agonizing voyage, Emmet noticed that though the cage was made of iron, it was held shut by a rope, which he carefully, gnawed at until only a slim strand remained. That night the boat encountered a terrible storm and the captain instructed his crew to take shelter in Smugglers Cove, but the seas overcame the vessel and it ran aground and began to sink.
During the ensuing commotion, Emmet chewed through the final twist of rope and the foxes wriggled free, making their way off the boat before it was lost to the wild and foaming waves and found their way by moonlight to the wide grass planes that reminded them of home. And so they have lived here for many years. They used the old ship boards to line the floors of their new burrow and a round front door is made from a plank from the old captain's table.
On moonlit nights, when they gather around the fire, they talk about the tundra and the rocky shore and imagine how it might feel to stand in a world of white under the glowing moon, and those thoughts fill their hearts with a happiness they cannot describe, and they are gratefull to be all together.
|