The Farmer's Llamas Read online

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Photos

  the air. Somewhere close by, someone was baking. With little Timmy at his side, he peered into the kitchen window.

  Inside, the Farmer and his trusty sheepdog, Bitzer, were both wearing frilly blue aprons and matching chef’s hats. The Farmer tossed a couple of eggs across the kitchen to Bitzer, who was whipping up a bowl of cake batter. Later, after adding a few drops of green food coloring to the icing, he spooned it out and flattened it with a rolling pin while the chuckling Farmer took a tray of piping-hot biscuits shaped like sheep heads out of the oven.

  Shaun watched the entire process until, wide-eyed, he stared at the huge, finished cake. It had been decorated to look like a cakey version of Mossy Bottom Farm. For the finishing touch, the Farmer piped snowy white cream swirls onto the top layer while Bitzer popped the biscuit sheep heads into place. Presto: yummy sheep! Bitzer and the Farmer stepped back to consider their handiwork. The cake was a masterpiece. High-fiving each other, they hurried out of the kitchen.

  Shaun’s tummy rumbled. He looked at Timmy. Timmy looked back. They grinned at each other. A plan was forming in Shaun’s mind: a plan that might well get him into lots of trouble and have all kinds of unintended consequences. It was exactly his kind of plan.

  A few seconds later, the cat flap in the front door squeaked and swung in as Shaun squeezed through. With a quiet snicker, Shaun checked that the coast was clear, then tip-hoofed down the hall.

  In his bedroom upstairs, the Farmer adjusted his bow tie. Bitzer brushed specks of dandruff from the Farmer’s shoulders, then, job done, stood back and adjusted his own bow tie while the Farmer turned this way and that, admiring himself.

  Shaun crept along the hallway below. Stopping by the kitchen door, he peered in. The coast was clear. Eyes fixed on the cake, he sneaked around the kitchen table and lifted up the masterpiece while Timmy opened the window, eagerly holding out his hooves.

  Suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the Farmer’s cheerful whistle. Shaun dropped the cake back onto the table and fled. Timmy dived into a flower bed.

  Shaun scrambled for the hallway. The footsteps were louder now. Desperately, he looked around for a hiding place. There was nowhere, except the Farmer’s coat hanging from its peg by the door.

  With Bitzer close behind, the Farmer stomped into the kitchen. Holding on to the inside of the coat, Shaun peeked out while Bitzer put the Mossy Bottom Farm cake into a box. Still whistling, the Farmer rubbed his hands together happily and stomped back to the hallway, where he grabbed his coat and shrugged it on.

  Hearing a strangely bleat-like sound, Bitzer looked up and down the hallway. What was that?

  Struggling with his coat, the Farmer ignored the sheepdog. “Gah,” he mumbled to himself. The zipper wouldn’t close. The coat was too tight. Shaking his head and glancing back at Bitzer, he patted his tummy in embarrassment. Perhaps it was time to go on a diet.

  Bitzer glanced up and frowned, sorrow filling his heart. It looked like the Farmer, in his old age, was developing a hunchback.

  Leaving his coat open, the Farmer bustled out the front door and climbed into the car. Bitzer scrambled into the passenger seat and carefully positioned the precious cake box on his knees. Meanwhile, the Farmer snapped his seat belt into place and leaned back in his seat.

  BEEAGHHHH!

  Bitzer and the Farmer looked at each other, then shrugged. That funny sound was probably just the squeaky old car making squeaky old car noises. With a cough and a roar, the engine rumbled into life. The Farmer steered out through the open gate and turned toward Mossy Bottom Village. As he leaned back in his seat, another faint squeal came from the hunch in his coat. The Farmer grunted and squirmed. For some reason, he could not get comfy.

  Timmy watched as the car roared past. He looked through the window into the kitchen, where the cake had been, and then around at the farm. Where was Shaun?

  out of the window, his tongue flapping in the wind, while the car bumped and rattled along narrow roads edged with trees and fields. With a squeal of brakes, the Farmer swung the wheel. The car skidded into a field full of farm trucks and trailers. Beyond the parking lot, people nibbled ice pops and wandered between striped tents where prize vegetables and pedigree chickens were on display.

  Eagerly, the Farmer scrambled out of the car — and yelped as he felt something squirm down the back of his coat. Then it was gone! Confused, he looked down. The coat seemed much looser now.

  He shook his head. There was no time to puzzle over the mystery of the strange coat. With a whistle to Bitzer, he strode off, and the sheepdog trailed behind, staggering under the weight of the huge cake.

  Shaun slipped under the car. Being squashed between the Farmer’s back and the car seat had left him feeling like the filling in a sheep sandwich. Popping his ears back into their normal place, he gazed around. Close by, a man was selling buckets of fresh manure and yelling, “Etcharuvverymanooooer. Honlytenpenshabukkit!” Next to him was a stall selling the latest in sheepdog whistle technology, which was exactly the same as old sheepdog whistle technology. A crowd of sheepdogs clustered around, panting in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the new whistles, all of which looked identical to the old ones.

  The Farmer and Bitzer walked to a large tent. By the opening was a wooden cutout sign that showed a lady with a rolling pin, a chef’s hat, and a large cake with a cherry on top. The Farmer stopped and chuckled. His cake was sure to win first prize in the annual Mossy Bottom Cake-a-thon!

  A moment later, his chuckle turned into a grunt as Bitzer bumped into his back. Turning, he scowled and grumbled at the sheepdog, then turned again and hit his head on the wooden cake-lady’s rolling pin. A bald man wearing red suspenders pointed and laughed. Still grumbling, the Farmer stomped into the cake tent.

  Immediately, he brightened. This was more like it! The tent was packed with cakes, good and bad. An old lady was making what looked like a house of cards out of wafers. She would be no competition, the Farmer thought. Some of the other cakes were much better, but he was still confident that his farm cake would win. He adjusted his bow tie, then Bitzer’s, and stood behind his masterpiece to wait for the judges.

  Outside, Shaun shook his head and yawned. A country fair: boring. Ears twitching, he frowned. Over the squeak of the carousel and the shouts of the manure man, he heard a melodious sound, like the wind softly whistling through trees.

  Turning, he saw a short man in a knit hat and a bright, multicolored poncho walking through the crowd. In his hands, he held a set of reed pipes into which he was blowing. The hypnotizing music wafted through the fairground. Three calm animals followed behind the man, led along by ropes.

  Shaun stared. Apart from the teeth — Shaun was surprised they managed to get so many teeth into their mouths — the creatures looked like very tall sheep with long necks. Llamas! Shaun blinked. He’d never seen real-live llamas before.

  The leader, whose name was Hector, was white with a brown tail. Behind him was a strong-looking llama named Raul, whose eyes were completely covered by dark-brown dreadlocks. Bringing up the rear was a white-and-caramel-colored llama named Fernando, who was wearing patterned ankle warmers and a matching hat.

  The music stopped abruptly. The piper had tripped over a tent peg and dropped the pipes! With a squeal, the man scrambled through the grass for them.

  Shaun hardly noticed. His attention was fixed on the llamas. As soon as the music stopped, they had sha
ken their heads. The hypnotized look dropped from their eyes. Their faces changed. Peaceful calm disappeared and was replaced by grins of wicked mischief.

  The three llamas looked at one another, then turned and galloped across the grass, shouldering people aside as they headed straight for the cake tent. Behind them, the Peruvian piper was dragged through the fairground, hanging on to their lead ropes, squealing and shouting at the llamas to stop.

  Ignoring him, they raced through the open flap of the tent. Shaun, hearing screams through the canvas walls, crept up to the tent and lifted the canvas to peer inside.

  He was treated to a scene of chaos. Humans ran in circles, waving their arms in panic and trying to shoo the llamas away. Snorting with laughter, the llamas went into cake frenzy. They easily sidestepped the bake-off contestants as they knocked tables over, sending cakes flying and gobbling everything in sight.

  Shaun’s mouth dropped open in admiration. The llamas feasted on sponge cakes and scones and iced buns and cream cakes decorated with strawberries. Hector, having put his head through a three-tiered fruitcake, noticed Shaun standing by. With a wink, the llama nudged a cupcake in Shaun’s direction, then disappeared back into the screaming crowd, dragging the Peruvian piper along the length of a loaded table.

  Shaun grinned as he munched his cupcake and watched icing fly. In the middle of it all, Bitzer woofed, paws up, warding the llamas away from the Farmer’s magnificent cake. The Farmer ducked as they charged past. At the last moment, Bitzer snatched the cake out of their way and breathed a sigh of relief.

  At that moment, the Farmer stood up . . .

  And put his head straight through the cake.

  Once again, the bald man with red suspenders pointed and choked with laughter. Shaun, too, chuckled to himself. The llamas were amazing!

  Within a few minutes, every cake had become an unrecognizable, soggy mess trampled into the floor or dripping down the canvas walls. Contestants wailed among overturned tables and chairs. Full of cake, and still dragging the pipe player on the end of their ropes, the llamas rushed for the exit. Struggling, the Peruvian yelped as he was dragged across the grass and made a desperate grab for his pipes as he was pulled past them.

  A second later, the sound of panpipes drifted across the field once more. The llamas stopped and fell into a neat line. Shaun blinked. The music turned them into completely different animals! Obediently, they followed the Peruvian piper as he headed for another tent. Fascinated, Shaun trotted after them.

  Back in the cake tent, Bitzer picked up the Farmer’s glasses and wiped cake from them, then peered through the smeared lenses to test them out. He glimpsed a familiar tail disappearing from the tent. Shaun! Somehow Shaun had managed to get to the country fair. No wonder things had started going wrong! With a growl, Bitzer set off to find him.

  Dazed, and still cleaning cake out of his ear, the Farmer wandered after him a few moments later.

  Trailing after the panpipe music, Shaun watched the piper lead his llamas into another tent. Carefully, the small man shut them into a pen next to a podium where an auctioneer stood. People watched, nodding along to the haunting music and tapping their feet.

  With a loud CRACK, the auctioneer brought his hammer down and shushed the piper. Reluctantly, he stopped playing.

  Shaun watched as the llamas shook their heads once again. Suddenly, their eyes gleamed. Leaning over the bars of the pen, Fernando stretched out his long neck and tore a mouth-shaped hole in a magazine a man was reading. Raul snapped at the flowers in a lady’s hat and chewed happily. Hector snatched the auctioneer’s hammer. While the auctioneer tried to tug it back, Fernando tried to steal the flower from Raul’s mouth. The petals tickled his nose. AHH . . . AHHH . . . ATCHOOO . . . The llama sneeze blew the auctioneer’s toupee into the crowd, where it landed on a baby’s head.

  Shaun snickered. The llamas were awesome. The ultimate pranksters!

  Behind him, Bitzer pushed through the crowd. He was close. He could feel it! Wherever there was trouble, a Mossy Bottom sheep was sure to be involved.

  By the entrance, the Farmer pushed aside the tent flaps and blinked around at the crowd. What was going on here? And where was Bitzer? Spotting Bitzer’s hat, he whistled loudly.

  It was a whistle that Shaun recognized instantly. If the Farmer was here, then Bitzer would be close by. Quickly, he dived into the crowd of legs around him.

  At the same moment, the auctioneer — who had retrieved his toupee — rapped his hammer to start the auction. Who wanted to buy the llamas? Were there any bids?

  He waited a second.

  Any bids at all?

  People shook their heads.

  By now, the Peruvian piper was sweating. As his three llamas carried on making stupid faces, sneezing, and kicking at their pen, he prayed that someone — anyone — would buy them.

  But no one was interested.

  Ignoring the auctioneer, the Farmer waved to Bitzer.

  On the podium, the auctioneer called out. He had his first bid from the balding man in the bow tie and glasses.

  Bitzer waved back at the Farmer.

  Again, the auctioneer shouted. A second bid!

  The Farmer flapped a hand at the sheepdog, signaling him to come.

  Bitzer woofed. At the podium, the auctioneer pointed at him with his hammer, shouted out a higher price, and looked at the Farmer. Did he want to raise the price again?

  Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, the Farmer signaled the sheepdog to meet him outside. Happily, the auctioneer raised the price again. At his side, the Peruvian couldn’t believe his good fortune.

  With a gulp, Bitzer finally realized what was going on. The auctioneer thought their waves were bids! The sheepdog leaped across the tent and grabbed the Farmer’s arms before he could make another bid.

  Shaun bleated in excitement. The Farmer was about to buy the llamas!

  The auctioneer looked around for any last bids. In the crowd, a fly buzzed around the head of the man with red suspenders. Without thinking, the man slapped at it.

  “Hyaargh,” the auctioneer shouted, pointing with his hammer.

  Shaun’s face fell. The man with suspenders had outbid the Farmer. He had to do something!

  Quickly, he scrambled under the canvas and snapped the arm off a sign outside that pointed the way into the auction tent.

  A second later, while the auctioneer rapped his hammer — going once — an arm with a pointing finger appeared at the Farmer’s shoulder and waggled.

  Once more, the auctioneer pointed with his hammer. A last-minute bid from the man in glasses!

  The Farmer yelped. The hammer was pointed at him!

  The auctioneer looked back at the man in suspenders, but he shook his head. The auctioneer rapped his hammer for the final time. The Farmer was the highest bidder, and the llamas were now SOLD!

  The auctioneer led Hector, Raul, and Fernando over to the Farmer and held out his hand. It was time to pay up. The Farmer shrugged and turned his pockets out to show he had no money. He couldn’t pay!

  Unconvinced, the auctioneer called over a hulking helper, who rubbed his knuckles and stared menacingly at the Farmer. The Farmer shrank back.

  Helpfully, Bitzer tugged at the Farmer’s jacket, pointing to the inside pocket where he kept his wallet. Glaring at the sheepdog, the Farmer reluctantly took it out and handed over a thick wad of money.

  As the auctioneer and his beefy assistant walked away, the Peruvian piper sidled up to Bitzer. Beaming with smiles, he hung his pipes around Bitzer’s neck and ran off, laughing and clicking his heels together.

  Then Bitzer spotted Shaun, who was holding a wooden arm with a pointing finger. Letting the pipes drop from his paws, Bitzer growled. It must have been Shaun who had placed the last bid for the llamas!

  With a snicker, Shaun hid the wooden arm behind his back: Whoops!

  a group of sheep stopped munching grass and watched the horse trailer reverse through the gate. An annoyed-looking Bitzer prodded Shaun
, who had been hidden behind the driver’s seat, out of the vehicle.

  Shaun sprinted into the meadow, bleating in excitement and proudly holding up the broken-off pointy-finger arm he had used to bid for the llamas. The Flock wasn’t going to believe what had happened! Shaun explained everything as Hazel, Nuts, the Twins, Timmy, his mom, and Shirley listened breathlessly. Llamas!

  Then the Flock watched as the Farmer opened the back of the horse trailer. In a blur and with a bray of freedom, Hector, Raul, and Fernando exploded out of the trailer and onto Mossy Bottom Farm. Ignoring the Farmer, they dashed around the farm, leaving a trail of crashes and bangs. Shouting, the Farmer gave chase. By the time he caught up, Raul was wearing a bucket on his head while Fernando and Hector played tug-of-war with an old broom. Still shouting, the Farmer flapped his hands at the llamas. Hector snapped at his fingers.

  The Farmer gulped as he looked up into three unfriendly faces. It suddenly occurred to him that the llamas were much bigger than sheep and that their teeth were huge. With another gulp and a nervous “Hmmmf,” the Farmer jumped behind Bitzer and pushed him forward. Herding was the sheepdog’s job. He could get them into the field. Without looking back, the Farmer climbed into the car and drove off toward the farmhouse.

  The llamas did not like being herded. Instead, they found their way into the vegetable patch. Raul ate a pot of herbs, while Fernando found some tasty radishes. Bitzer blew his whistle and pointed, but the llamas wouldn’t listen. The sheep didn’t know what to think.

  Hector looked around, bored, and spotted Timmy’s battered old soccer ball. With a hmmm, he juggled it for a moment, then hoofed it toward Raul.

  CLANG. The ball bounced off the bucket Raul had managed to get stuck on his head. Fernando looked up and caught the ball on the back of his neck.

  Ooooooh . . . The sheep stared at the llamas’ ball skills, then looked at one another. They should play a soccer game! Sheep versus llamas.

  With a flick of a hoof, Fernando passed the ball back toward Raul. Again, it bounced off the bucket with a clang, then flew over to Hector, who headed it neatly back to Fernando.