The Berenstain Bear Scouts and the Evil Eye (6 page)

They rested and snacked when they reached the halfway point. Then they went to work mixing the potting soil into the gritty mountain soil, putting in the plants, watering them with plant food–laced water, patting them down, putting in their little name signs, and hoping for the best when the mountain snow and ice melted and spring rains came.

They couldn't see their friend Bigpaw high up on the ledge in front of his cave. But, about halfway through the job, he began to sing. So they sure could hear him. And since they couldn't get the work done with their fingers in their ears, they had to listen. “Bigpaw has a great voice, but not for singing,” said Brother with a grin.

His fellow scouts agreed.

Meanwhile,
inside
the mountain, Ralph and McGreed were still climbing. “Are you sure this is going to work?” snarled McGreed. “Because if it isn't . . .”

“Please, chief, be reasonable,” said Ralph. “There's nothing that's sure in life except ticks and fleas.”

“Because if it doesn't,” continued McGreed, “I'm going to turn you back into Big Red Rooster faster than you can say ‘Cock-a-doodle-do!' And that's just for starters!”

That's when they heard it: Bigpaw's singing echoing down through the passageway. McGreed gritted his teeth and put his fingers in his ears.

“No, chief! No!” pleaded Ralph. “No gritting! No fingers in the ears! Just wild applause and shouts of ‘Bravo! Bravo!' Try to remember, we
love
Bigpaw's singing. That's why we've come. That's why I've brought Dr. McGreed, the great singing expert, to hear his wonderful voice.”

“Just remember, you pea-brained idiot,” snarled McGreed. “If this scheme of yours doesn't work . . .”

But there was no time for talking. They had reached the secret cave that opened onto Bigpaw's mountain. It was time for action.

“Bravo! Bravo!” shouted Ralph as he and McGreed came out of the cave into the clear mountain air.

And there he was, the great creature himself, strumming his tree-trunk banjo and singing his heart out.

“Applaud! Shout ‘Bravo!'” whispered Ralph to McGreed. McGreed applauded and shouted, “Bravo!”

Bigpaw stopped singing the instant he saw Ralph and the funny little fellow in the opera cape and slouch hat. “You Ralph Ripoff,” said Bigpaw, glowering down at his visitors. “You bad guy. You try hurt my little Bear Scout friends!” He moved toward the visitors, holding the banjo in the club position.

“Hurt the Bear Scouts?” protested Ralph. “You do me an injustice, sir! I love the Bear Scouts. They are my dearest little friends! They are as dear to me as my own blood nieces and nephews. Why, I love the Bear Scouts so much I carry their pictures with me always!” Ralph turned to McGreed. “Quick, chief, show 'em the cutouts!” McGreed set the Bear Scout cutouts up on the ledge.

Bigpaw stopped glowering and lowered his banjo. “Why you here? Why you come see Bigpaw?”

“Why we here?” said Ralph. “Why we come see Bigpaw? Surely you jest. We've come to hear Bigpaw sing, of course.”

Bigpaw thought about that for a moment. “Bigpaw love to sing,” he said.

“Certainly you love to sing. Why
wouldn't
you love to sing with such a thrilling, wonderful voice as yours?”

“Bigpaw love to sing,” repeated the big fellow.

“And why else would I have brought the great Dr. McGreed with me?” said Ralph.

“Bigpaw not sick,” said the giant.

“Not that sort of doctor, my good fellow,” said Ralph. “Dr. McGreed is a doctor of singing. He is, in fact, the world's greatest expert on the art of vibrato. He is a student of the uvula—that little thing that dangles at the back of your throat. And, amazing as it may seem, the good doctor wishes to take you under his wing.”

“Singing doctor got no wings,” said Bigpaw, raising his banjo back to the club position.

“You misunderstand!” said Ralph. “‘Under his wing' is just an expression—a manner of speaking, as it were.” Bigpaw resumed full glower. “What it really means is that the good doctor wishes you to be his protégé.”

“Bigpaw think you try to fool him with big words,” said the singing giant.

“For pete's sake, take over, chief!” whispered Ralph to McGreed. “I'm running out of steam. And it's now or never. I don't think he's buying our act.”

McGreed took his courage in his hands, stepped forward, and said, “I am zee great opera expert, and you are wasting zee time. Do you wish to sing in zee opera or not?”

“Opra?” said Bigpaw. “What opra?”

“What's opera? What's opera?” cried McGreed, swirling his cape and jabbing the air with his ivory-headed walking stick. “Opera is zee greatest singing! To sing zee operas of Beartoveen, Bearzart, and Bearcini is to reach zee sublime.” Bigpaw seemed interested.

“And look here, big fellow,” said Ralph, opening the portfolio. “Here are pictures of how you'll look in the different operas. Here you are in
William Tell
—you know, the bear who had to shoot the apple off his cub's head. And here you are singing
Falstaff,
the big fat guy who gets all the laughs.”

“Bigpaw like pictures!” said Bigpaw. “Bigpaw look nice singing opra. How I get to sing opra?”

“Nothing could be simpler, my dear fellow,” said Ralph. “As soon as the good doctor examines your uvula, we'll start booking the concert tour.”

“What's that?” asked Bigpaw.

“You know, that little thing in your throat,” said Ralph. “It will allow Dr. McGreed to decide which operas will be best for you. Now, if you just help the doctor look in your throat.”

Bigpaw was all for it. “Bigpaw go on concert tour! Goody!” He reached down and, using his Dumpster-size paw as an elevator, lifted the good doctor and his giant tongue depressor up ten stories.

“What in the world do you suppose is going on?” said Sister.

The scouts were watching from behind some rocks. They had finished their work and climbed the rest of the way to visit Bigpaw. But as they got near Bigpaw's ledge, they heard voices.
Familiar
voices. The voices of Ralph Ripoff and the archweasel McGreed.

“I haven't a clue as to what's going on,” said Brother. “But whatever it is, it's not good.”

“Open your mouth and say, ‘Ah,'” ordered McGreed. Bigpaw did as ordered. Of course, McGreed's real purpose was to get in position to hypnotize the giant. Once he gained power over the strongest force in Bear Country, control of all Bear Country would be within easy reach.

McGreed didn't bother with a watch. He just climbed over Bigpaw's swollen, mosquito-bitten nose and zapped him with the evil eye. “Listen to the voice of your master, Bigpaw,” said McGreed.

“Bigpaw listen,” said Bigpaw, in a sleepy voice.

“Your eyelids are getting heavy,” said McGreed, staring into Bigpaw's eyes.

“Eyelids getting heavy,” said Bigpaw.

“You feel a deep, deep sleep coming on. . . .”