The Wombles to the Rescue Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘that’s very clever of you. How did you guess? I say, I’m going to miss old Bungo a bit, aren’t you? He may be a bossy sort of Womble, but he’s all right really.’
    But Wellington had already ambled away, with his paws clasped behind his back and his nose pointing towards the ground. He looked rather like Botany so that Tomsk, who didn’t often notice that kind of thing, said in his rumbling voice, ‘I’ll tell you what – Wellington’ll get as quiet and not-talking as Cousin Botany if he doesn’t watch out. He’s getting a bit like that already.’
    â€˜Don’t suggest it,’ said Orinoco with a shudder. ‘I’ll tell you what! Cousin Botany missed his supper last night! ’
    â€˜He didn’t!’
    â€˜He jolly well did! That’s a very, very, VERY strange thing for a Womble to do. Move up, Tomsk, we’re losing our place in the “tenses” queue.’
    Alderney, who was in charge of the snack trolley, saw Orinoco’s anxious face and waved and smiled and then began to push the trolley down the line of waiting, chattering Wombles so quickly that some of the chilled dandelion juice went flying in all directions.
    A few drops reached Wellington, and, while he licked them off the back of his paw, he recalled what Great Uncle Bulgaria had said only twenty minutes ago.
    â€˜The Wombles to the rescue,’ murmured Wellington. ‘Yes, that’s what we’ve got to do! We Wombles have got to stop all these shortages. Or find out how to deal with them anyway. That’s a funny sort of problem to cope with, but we’ll have to try and think of something. Now I wonder what I’d better invent FIRST . . .’
    And away went Wellington talking to himself under his breath and with his head (as usual) so full of ideas of this-and-that that he never noticed that he was walking straight across the Common without bothering to keep clear of any Human Beings who might be about. As it happened there weren’t many people actually out walking , but trundling down the slightly bumpy road which led to the Wimbledon Common Windmill was a large black van. On the side of the van were the letters ‘WTV’ . . .
    â€˜Where’s Wellington got to?’ asked Tomsk.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ said Orinoco. ‘Look here, if you don’t want another dandelion bun I’ll eat it for you.’
    â€˜You’ve already had five!’
    â€˜Have I?’ said Orinoco in such a surprised voice that Tomsk forgot all about the way in which Wellington had wandered off and began instead to count up dandelion buns on his paws.
    All the others were busy talking and eating too, which is how Wellington wasn’t missed for some time. Which was rather unfortunate as . . .

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    Chapter 4
    The Grey Wolf of Wimbledon Common
    Nobody missed Wellington for quite a long time. This was unusual as all Wombles keep an eye on each other and, besides being the most friendly of creatures, they are also most inquisitive and curious. Of course, if a Womble really feels he must have a bit of peace and quiet for a while, all the others do respect his views; but for a Womble to silently disappear, without anybody in the burrow noticing it, is practically unheard of. It only happened now because the burrow was all at sixes and sevens, what with Great Uncle Bulgaria and Bungo going to America and Tobermory away too, while he drove them on the first part of their journey.
    It was Orinoco who first noticed that Wellington was missing and he only did so because Wellington – who was much better at getting up quickly – wasn’t keeping a place for him in the breakfast queue.
    â€˜Hey,’ said Orinoco, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and nudging the small Womble ahead of him who was called Shansi. ‘Where’s Wellington, then?’
    Shansi put her front paws together and shook her head sadly. She was rather shy