“Pussy-willows, of course, stupid!” interrupted Ann.

“Yes, and back of that there are fields with tall reeds or grasses with brown tips to them.”

“Cattails!” giggled Ann.

“And there’s a big high cliff, too, with a little stream of water running down, and—­” But here Rudolf stopped, for Growler and Prowler rushed up, cut the strings of the three bags, and released the children from their imprisonment.  Hardly did they have time to stretch themselves before the Merry Mouser brought up alongside her landing-place, and in a moment more the children were being led ashore, each under guard of a cat pirate to prevent escape.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VII

CATNIP ISLAND

Little cats, big cats, black, white, gray, yellow, striped, spotted, Maltese, tortoise-shell, calico, and tiger cats!  Cats of all sizes and all kinds, cats of all ages, from tiny furry babies wheeled in perambulators by their mamas to gray old grandpas hobbling along by the aid of canes or crutches—­all the cats of Catnip Island had trooped down to the shore to watch the landing of the Merry Mouser.  Captain Mittens, decked out in the False Hare’s jewelry, was the first to leave the pirate ship.  He stepped along jauntily, nose in the air and the haughtiest kind of expression on his whiskered face.  After him came Growler leading Rudolf, then Prowler with Ann, then the Maltese pirate with Peter by the hand.  The spotted sailors brought up the rear, all but two who had been left to guard the ship.  As soon as the shore cats saw that their Chief had brought home three prisoners from his cruise, they set up a great yowl of joy, and began to dance, prancing and bounding in the air and whirling round and round upon their hind legs.

[Illustration:  Captain Mittens was the first to leave the pirate ship.]

“Oh, my eye!” exclaimed Rudolf, quite forgetting where he was and standing still to watch their antics.  “Don’t I wish I had my slingshot!”

“Hush!  Silence—­’nless ye want to be skinned!” It was the voice of Prowler just behind him.

“If you think I’m afraid of a lot of silly cats—­” began Rudolf, but his voice was drowned by the angry yowls that burst from a hundred furry throats as the islanders pressed closer and closer.

“Oh, Rudolf, do be quiet!” Ann begged, and Rudolf, remembering that he was not only a long way from his sling shot, but that even his sword had been taken away from him, was obliged to submit.  By this time the pirates had cleared a way through the crowd and the procession left the beach and entered the pussy-willow grove which Rudolf had described from the deck of the Merry Mouser.  Half hidden among the trees were a number of pretty little houses, each with a neat door yard and a high back fence.  Each had its name, too, on a small door plate, and it amused Ann and Peter to spell out as they went along—­“Furryfield,” “Mousetail Manor,” “Kitten-cote,” etc.