Rudolph Saves Christmas
And Other Oddities
By Shaun Allan
Copyright 2011 Shaun Allan
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
* * * *
Dedication
For Megan, Millie and Isobella
* * * *
Also by Shaun Allan
Sin
Zits’n’Bits
Tooth, the Whole Tooth and Nothing but the Tooth
Final Entry
The House on the Moor
Welcome the Night
Computers Don't Wear Pink Pyjamas
The Four Wotsits of the Doodad
Igglepop
* * * *
Rudolph Saves Christmas
Chapter One: Snow is Falling
It was snowing. Heavily.
Great big flakes as big as your hand were drifting down to Earth. They were taking their time, not rushing or falling so quickly they'd land on your nose before you'd even seen the snowflake coming for you. Why rush? Snow didn’t know what Time was. It didn’t know three seconds from twenty minutes, so they simply drifted down.
It was cold. Cold enough to turn the water from a dripping tap into an icicle in less than a heartbeat. Cold enough to turn your nose to a frozen lump of skin that couldn't sniff a wet dog in a dry kennel. Cold enough to make your fingers go blue even if you had on two pairs of gloves and kept your hands shoved so deep into your armpits they almost became bears in hibernation.
It was cold enough that the snowflakes knew they were going to be quite safe casually dropping down to lay on the path or road or garden or field. Nothing was going to make them melt as they covered the tree branches in their white blanket. They slowly erased the landscape, blending one feature into another until the only thing that could be seen was a white mass of nothing. Some great giant had opened a tin of emulsion and turned it upside down, letting the contents paint the world in a huge coat of brilliant, glaring, white.
Cars had become bumps, houses were ripples in the landscape and somewhere a Dalmatian howled for its owner to open the door and let it into the warmth.
The snow didn't care. It did the only thing it knew how to. It fell.
It was the night before Christmas Eve. Everyone - the newspapers, the parents, the guys on TV and the postman - all said it was going to be a 'white Christmas'. Of course it was. It didn't take a genius to know that waist deep snow didn't disappear overnight. It didn’t matter, though. It would be a white Christmas and people were excited - apart from not being able to move their cars or walk more than four steps without becoming frozen solid and needing to be thawed out in front of the fire for an hour or two before their teeth would stop chattering and their knees would stop knocking - each trying to see who could knock the loudest, or if they could do it in time with each other.
Rudolf was sitting in his armchair dozing. He’d been out trying to dig his way to the front gate and had given up after three hours. As fast as he'd dug a pathway to the outside world, the snow had sneaked up behind him and filled it back in again.
So Rudolf was tired, and he was having a well- earned rest. He planned to wake in about half an hour, just in time for tea, and he would then be nicely refreshed and ready for the meeting.
In the run-up to Christmas, whilst Santa and his elves were putting the finishing touches to the presents and making sure they knew which children had been Naughty or Nice or couldn't decide which was which, the reindeer had nightly planning meetings. They had to figure out the best routes to take to cover each house across the world in the shortest time possible. Once upon a time it had been easy. Once upon a time it had all been villages and little collections of houses huddled together trying to be a village. Cities had never been heard of and towns were odd places where houses had forgotten where they were and wandered around until they'd found other dwellings in the same predicament.
Now, though, villages were in danger of being washed away by the constant building of new estates and towns were bundling together to try and be pretend they were cities.
Houses were everywhere, and it made Santa's job - and thus that of his reindeer - sooo much harder. Even with a sat-nav being built into the new sporty sleigh they were trying out this year, getting round every house was going to be a major task. So, the reindeer planned, down to the finest detail, the route they'd take. It wasn't necessarily a good idea to visit one child and then drop by his friend next door. It might be quicker and easier to pop across to the other side of the country and catch the friend on the way back, taking in the next street along the way.
The reindeer enjoyed their meetings. They felt like they were playing a part this year instead of just pulling the sleigh and letting Santa take all the credit.
Now, don't get the wrong idea about them. The reindeer loved their job, and looked forward to nothing more than Christmas Eve, when they'd get their wings and be able to fly for that one solitary night of the year. The thing was, Santa was always the one that everyone talked about. It was Santa this, and Father Christmas that. People couldn't even remember all the reindeer names.
It wasn't Santa's fault. It was obvious that the one you'd remember would be the big guy in the red suit with the bushy beard that brought you the goodies.
How could a reindeer compete with that?
So they'd plan and they'd talk, and sometimes they'd argue. But in the end they just wanted it to all go smoothly.
Rudolph snored loudly. The snow that settled upon the roof did so quietly so as not to wake the snoozing reindeer. The odd flake drifted down the chimney to see the famous leader of Santa's sleigh team in action - even if that action included sleeping in a comfy chair.
Rudolph yawned and slipped further into sleep, oblivious to his frozen audience.
Within a few moments he was snoring softly, the odd snicker and grunt indicating he was dreaming.
Half an hour went by, during which his slumber was filled with dreams of soaring through the clouds with a sack of presents on his back – just him, the air and the gifts.
A crash. Not in his dream, but in his kitchen. Hushed mutterings. The sounds of something being bumped into and someone telling them to be quiet. Then, just as Rudolph managed to sit up and shake the tiredness from his eyes, darkness fell.
* * * *
Chapter Two: Ethelbert
Rudolph woke up with a start – although he’d never been sure if it was possible to wake up with a stop. Had he been dreaming? His head ached. Maybe he’d shovelled snow so much that he’d given himself a headache. He yawned and stretched.
Well, he tried to stretch. He could move his arms! What? And his eyes were open but he couldn’t see anything! Was he still asleep? Was he still dreaming?
No, wait...
He remembered...
“You’re awake,” a voice said. It was an elf, Rudolph knew straight away. They could never hide the tone in their voices that made it seem like they were singing everything they said.
Well, that proved one thing. He wasn’t asleep or dreaming. Unless the elf was a dream as well. Rudolph didn’t think so. He couldn’t remember ever having dreamt of an elf. Usually he was either flying or eating Mother Christmas’s famous rhubarb pie. Sometimes he was flying and eating rhubarb pie! But he had never seen an elf whilst asleep. Not even a flying rhubarb one.
There was a tug at his head and suddenly a bright light scorched its way to the back of his eyes, causing him to blink quickly and squint.
“You’ve been a Naughty boy, haven’t you Rudolph?” the elf sang.
Rudolph could tell the elf was trying to sound mean, like he was putting a ‘grrr’ in his voice. It didn’t work. Elves just weren’t like that. They were far too happy and when they weren’t talking in that sing-song voice, they were singing. And when an elf sang, bells jingled beneath the smooth surface of their song. So an elf trying to sound forceful was like a banana trying to be an apple. You could peel back the skin but there’d still be no pips inside.
Now Naughty boys were not allowed at the North Pole. If your name moved from the Nice list to the Naughty one you could find yourself, very quickly, on the first train out of here. It was well known that a reindeer or elf who hadn’t been Nice would find it very difficult to be accepted anywhere else. That included villages or jobs. You’d be outcast and forced to live amongst the penguins. That was fine. They were really good creatures. But all they ate was fish. And both reindeer and elves were allergic to fish.
Of course, that was if you didn’t walk into a polar bear. Polar bears quite liked fish. But they also were partial to reindeer chops or elf fingers.
Luckily, in the history of the North Pole, something that went so far back its beginnings were lost in the darkest recesses of Time’s memory, that had happened only once. But no -one spoke of Whipple. No -one dared talk about the night that the only Naughty elf ever to have lived tried to cancel Christmas. A damaged sleigh, Dazzle in Santa’s cocoa, it hadn’t taken much. Security was never needed in a place where happiness surrounded everyone like a big fur coat, complete with gloves, hat and scarf against the ice- cold winter.
If it hadn’t been for the reindeer, who had managed to speed across the world with Santa asleep in the sledge they’d used instead of the broken sleigh, a lot of children would have woken up very unhappy on Christmas Day. As it was, they all received their gifts in plenty of time.
Well, there were occasions where a boy might have unwrapped a doll’s house or a girl could have discovered a racing track underneath the bow and ribbon and brightly coloured paper, but they were rare occurrences – and they could be forgiven under the circumstances.
Whipple had been banished to the icy wasteland beyond the North Pole, never to be heard from again.
Rudolph had been a young buck back then, barely able to walk. His nose had shown only a brief glimmer of its current glory and no-one suspected that he might one day lead the reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh.
So, to be accused of something, whatever that something might actually be, was unthinkable. You just didn’t do Naughty at the North Pole!
He tried to focus on the direction the voice was coming from but the bright light had run off with his sight and was dancing around the room with it. All he could see was sparkles exploding in his mind like fireworks on New Year’s Eve.
“Come on!” sang the voice as insistently as it could, considering the ‘grrr’ was more like a ‘prrr’ with a hint of ‘tinkle’. “We know it was you, so you may as well confess!”
Slowly the room came into focus and Rudolph could see his captor.
“Ethel!” he exclaimed. “What’s going on?”
“Ethelbert!” the elf said. “My name is Ethelbert. Or Bert. If you really have to, you can call me ‘Bert’. But not Ethel!”
Rudolph knew this, but couldn’t help himself. It was innocent fun, that was all. In the realm of unfortunate names, Ethelbert was king. Or queen, depending on what you called him. As such, most of the North Pole residents were his subjects and, usually without even thinking about it, they’d call him ‘Ethel’. And he’d rant that ‘Ethel’ wasn’t his name, and the person responsible for causing the outburst would giggle and nod.
Rudolph realised that he shouldn’t antagonise his captor. He could scarcely believe he had one in the first place! But here he was, tied to a chair being... well it could only be classed as interrogated!
“I’m sorry Ethelbert,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. Please, tell me what’s going on!”
The elf stopped in front of Rudolph, placed his hands firmly on his hips and puffed his chest out, raising himself up to his height of 4 feet 2 and a (very important) bit.
All elves, once they were fully grown, were 4 feet 2 and that very important bit. They might have more hair, coiffured to a spiralling mountain on top to give the effect of extra height, or they might be completely bald, the head polished to the shiny sheen that was so fashionable these days. But still, they’d be 4 feet 2 and such a simply crucial bit.
And puffing his chest out just made Ethelbert look chubby. Elves were never the skinniest of people. They were strong and nimble, but they were roly-poly with it. It made them look cuddly and looked nice on Christmas cards and photos.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” said the elf, his brow furrowing making his bushy eyebrows look like a hairy caterpillar had fallen asleep there and was snoozing until tea time, when it would wake up and chomp on a lettuce leaf or some other fine delicacy.
“I don’t!” said Rudolph. He didn’t. He couldn’t think of one reason he’d be here in this state. In fact, he couldn’t think why anyone would. There wasn’t any police. Crime was nothing more than a word in the dictionary and the only things that were ever tied up were the presents, the branches of the Christmas trees or the Christmas turkey legs! He wasn’t wrapped in ribbon with a bow plonked on top, he wasn’t green with a fairy stuck on top of his antlers and he could be sure he didn’t wasn’t going to be stuffed and carved up for lunch!
“How did I know you were going to say that?” said Ethelbert. He began to pace up and down in front of Rudolph, stroking the small goatee beard that sprouted, perfectly trimmed, from his chin. “You weren’t going to admit it, were you? No, that would be too easy. You’re clearly far too devious to just come out and admit it.”
Rudolph was getting dizzy as the little man’s to-ed and fro-ed. Suddenly the elf stopped and turned to him again. Ethelbert leaned in, close enough for his moustache to tickle the reindeer’s nose.
“Problem is, you see, we’ve got the evidence.” Ethelbert smiled, trying to make it look menacing but not being able to disguise the usual twinkle in his eye. “No-one can mistake your nose.”
Rudolph sneezed. One of the consequences of having a nose that lit up the night like a beacon was that it was very sensitive. A breeze could irritate it into a sneezing fit, and colds were always welcome to come and take up residence high up in the nostrils, something they had great pleasure in doing.
Unfortunately Ethelbert hadn’t stepped back yet. This meant that the full force of the sneeze, including mucus, hit the elf squarely in the face. There was a shriek, a stumble and a thud as an elfin behind connected with the wooden floor. There then followed a spluttering, a frantic wiping of face and a mouthful of mutterings. Ethelbert pushed himself up and stomped over to the restrained reindeer.
“So that’s your answer, is it? That’s your response? I offer you a chance to admit your crime and you thank me by spitting in my face!”
“I didn’t! I didn’t spit! I sneezed! Your whiskers tickled me! And please tell me what I’m supposed to have done!”
Ethelbert, Bert to his friends and Ethel to almost everyone, wasn’t listening. He picked up a black sack from the floor.
“You failed, you know,” he said, his normally pink face now purple. “You didn’t do it, you... you... Whipple! You didn’t cancel Christmas!”
He raised the sack and the next moment Rudolph’s world went black once more.
* * * *
Chapter Three: Trapped
Rudolph awoke with a stop. Ah, so it was possible. His eyes opened and his surroundings were so unexpected, he couldn’t move for a long moment. The small sofa against the wall, scatter cushions arranged neatly (Rudolph always thought scatter cushions should be scattered, but some people just had to put them straight). The wooden floor with the large woollen rug – the sort that your feet or hooves loved to sink into. A coffee maker and jug of iced water on the small table under the window that had a just open blind stopping the bright sun from streaming in and glaring you.
He pushed off the thick duvet that covered him and walked over to the bars lining the far end of the prison cell.
How could he be in jail? He hadn’t done anything! What was going on?
He thought back over the past few days. Apart from trying to dig his way out of the snow and visiting his friends, he hadn’t really done anything. The reindeer didn’t have anything to do with the Toy Factory or The Lists, so it couldn’t be anything like that. In fact, they were under orders to take it easy and conserve their energy for the big night. It was exhausting flying around the world at the speed of night, so they had to rest as much as possible in preparation.
The Speed of Night was similar to the Speed of Light, except it sparkled with all the stars in the sky instead of just the sun. It wasn’t at all like the Speed of Sound, all noisy and thundering. The Speed of Sound was like the boy down the street who loved to hear his own voice and would shout to drown out everyone else. He’d also crash through everything like a bull in a blindfold and worry about what might be broken afterwards, if at all.
The Speed of Night was much nicer, and it was this that enabled the reindeer to pull Santa and his sleigh full of presents around the entire world in a single... well, a single night.
Rudolph had been following orders. You didn’t argue with Santa at anytime, but especially not when he had all the stresses of Christmas on his shoulders. Even his sunny smile darkened a little when he had to make sure all the presents were made and wrapped and labelled and The Lists were right-up-to-the-second correct. It was awful when a child who had been Nice all year suddenly turned round and did something Naughty. Santa couldn’t help himself but shed a tear. Any child who was Naughty upset him. He wanted happy, good children all over the world.
But Naughty was naughty. If you did the do, there was no present for you.
But Rudolph hadn’t been Naughty. He couldn’t be. Would never be!
“Ethelbert!” he shouted through the bars. “Ethelbeeeert!”
There was no answer. Either the elf wasn’t there or he wasn’t listening. Rudolph sat on the bed and hung his head. After a while he lay back down and pulled the cover back over himself. It wasn’t cold, of course. Even though the temperature outside would freeze the baubles off a Christmas tree, anywhere inside at the North Pole was lovely and toasty. For the first time in his entire life, however, Rudolph the reindeer was sad.
The most the jails were ever used for was to come and have a lie down and some peace if you’d been working so hard your head spun until your antlers (or hat if you were an elf) threatened to fall off. You could guarantee that you’d not be disturbed and could get some proper rest without anyone dropping by. Occasionally it was used to recover from a drop too much mulled wine or one too many mince pies. It had never been used to actually hold criminals, because, at the North Pole, there weren’t any.
Well, except that one time, of course...
Rudolph sighed. He wasn’t a criminal, but he was being held as one. He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes and blinked them away. He sniffed, and then he fell asleep.
He dreamed, but it wasn’t about flying or rhubarb elves.
He dreamed of falling. Falling so far and so fast the wind whistled in his ears. Darkness wrapped itself around him in a tight cloak of nothingness blocking out his view of the ground. He could be miles above it or just a few feet, but he could sense the surely imminent impact and clenched his eyes tight shut.
The whistling grew louder and the wind became strong enough to tug at his antlers.
He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Something covered his mouth to stop any sounds from leaping out into the darkness.
“Sshhhh!” said a small voice. “Don’t make any noise...”
* * * *
Chapter Four: Flop
Rudolph eyes fluttered open, struggling as if they wanted to stay shut but supposed that they really should let the world in and the bad dreams out. He was confused. He could still hear the whistle, after a fashion, but now it seemed like breathing. And there was still that pressure on his mouth. Was he awake? Still asleep? At least he was no longer falling.
“Sshhh...” whispered a small voice, so close to his ear it sounded almost like it was inside his head, echoing around.
“Don’t make any sudden movements,” it said. The pressure on his mouth was released and Rudolph took a deep breath.
“Why,” he whispered to the room. “Is Ethelbert about?”
“No,” said the voice. “I’ll fall off!”
“Fall...?”
Rudolph looked to the direction of the voice. Perched on top of his antlers, with a deep frown furrowing his forehead, was...
“Flop!”
Rudolph sat up quickly, so pleased to see his friend that he forgot, for a moment, where he was. Flop wasn’t expecting this and so found himself with his head in the duvet and his feet in the air. His tail was draped over his face and the problem with having a very small nose was pretty much like having a big, red, glowing one. It was rather sensitive. Flop sneezed.
“Sshhh”” said Rudolph.
Flop coughed and spluttered and jiggled his body about until he was sitting the right way up.
“Sshhh?” he said. “You’re telling me to ‘sshhh’? I’m here to save you, and you ‘sshhh’ me?”
His hands were on his hips and he was looking very serious. His tail was flicking at the tip, as if it had a nervous twitch, a sure sign that he was annoyed.
Flop was a squirrel. At least he looked like a squirrel. He had the little hands and the big feet. A big bushy tail that was taller than him. So, Flop was a squirrel. The only problem with Flop’s squirrelness, was that he didn’t like nuts. He didn’t just dislike the occasional walnut or turn his nose up at an odd acorn or two. Flop hated nuts. He’d tried walnuts, pecan nuts, cashew (bless you), brazil and coconuts. He just didn’t and couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried, like nuts. So there.
He couldn’t climb trees either.
He’d tried it, oh yes. Didn’t like it. He always fell. After he landed on his bum, his belly, his back and, on so many occasions, his head, Flop decided to accept the inevitable. He couldn’t climb trees.
“If,” he once told his dad, “I was meant to climb trees, I’d have sharp claws to dig into the bark and be fast enough to get a good run up. I would also,” he continued knowledgeably, “be light enough to not break branches when I ran across them!” He then folded his little arms across his little chest and nodded his head, smiling smugly.
Ah.
“Save me?” said Rudolph. “From what? I haven’t done anything! Why won’t anyone listen to me?”
“Haven’t done anything? Haven’t done anything? Oh, I wish I could believe you! I’d never have thought you could do such a thing. Really, Rudolph, how could you? Why??”
Rudolph stared at his friend. Not Flop! If his best friend didn’t believe he was innocent, then no-one would! He was beginning to think that he must be guilty of something, or else everyone wouldn’t be so convinced of it. But what? What could it be that had made Ethelbert think that he was Naughty! What could possibly have made Flop think he was anything but Nice??
“I haven’t... I don’t...”
All he could do was shake his head.
“Come on Rudolph. It’s me, your friend. Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything.”
The reindeer knew his friend was right, they could talk about anything and had shared many a secret, like his crush on Vixen or Flop’s appetite for boiled pine cones (when everyone knew you ate them deep fried with butter melting on top).
But this time there really was nothing to tell.
“I need to know,” said the squirrel. He leaned in close, his tiny nose dwarfed by the other’s mighty beacon. “Why did you blow up Santa’s sleigh?”
* * * *
Chapter Five: The Big Bang
Rudolph was stunned.
He blinked, was stunned a bit more, then blinked again.
Blow
Up
Santa’s
SLEIGH?
He couldn’t even conceive of such a thing happening. It was the Sleigh! When people spoke about it, their tones were hushed, as if even their words were in awe. It transported, pulled by the reindeer, all the presents all over the world each and every year. It was almost alive, singing as it went in a voice that sounded like bells. The old one had only last year been retired, having had a long and exciting life at the hands of the Big Man himself. It was tired and old now and had been stored away along with all the previous sleighs, preserved for all time in the Christmas Museum just down the road from the Toy Factory.
In amongst all the classic old toys, memorials to famous elves and the different candy cane recipes from across the years, stood the sleighs. Each one had its own podium and was lit with enough spotlights to make it gleam from every angle. Even ones as old as the newly retired one (which Santa had been particularly fond of and so had kept for a good while longer than he really should have) looked almost brand new with a decent polish and repaint.
The new sleigh practically shone all by itself. It was sleek and curved. It could land on the ground or on water, on roof or iced-over lake. The Nook, where the sack of toys rested, was three times bigger so the bestest, nicest children could get even more presents. It had a satellite navigation system so they would never get lost (which happened occasionally), heated seats and even a hot-mug-of-cocoa maker. It was the real bee’s bananas and Rudolph and the others couldn’t wait to pull it into the air.
Why he or anyone would want to blow it up was unthinkable. If there was no sleigh, then the reindeer would have nothing to pull, Santa would have nothing to sit on and there’d be nowhere to put the presents.
Christmas would have to be...
... Cancelled!
Rudolph felt sick.
“I didn’t,” he whispered for about the hundredth time.
Flop leaned back and looked at his friend. He shook his head.
“You’ve said that, but you’re the only person around here with a bright red shiny nose. You were seen at the sleigh and coming away from it. Then bang!”
“Bang?”
“Bang! One big explosion and then dust where the sleigh was meant to be. Whatever you say, even in a heavy snow storm, your nose is hard to miss.”
Well, that was true. Rudolph’s nose was very bright, especially when he was happy. And a reindeer was never more happy than when he was pulling the sleigh. Even carrots couldn’t compete with that. Even carrot cake wasn’t good enough, and carrot cake, knowing what it was up against, did try really hard. Even in the thickest blizzard, there would always be one point of light. One red glow that could be seen far in the distance.
Rudolph’s nose.
So he must have done it. It couldn’t be anyone else. Somehow he must have blacked out. Maybe he’d been sleepwalking, something that wasn’t entirely unknown – especially after one too many carrots.
No. It was impossible. Besides, where would he get the explosives to cause such an explosion? Or any kind of explosion, for that matter. The most he knew about things going bang was when he pulled a Christmas cracker or a party popper. He wasn’t too keen on party poppers as the streamers kept getting caught on his antlers making him look like a badly trimmed up Christmas tree.
“It really wasn’t me,” he said finally. If it was the last thing he ever said, which was unlikely as he really loved to talk, at least he’d protest his innocence.
“To be honest,” said Flop, “I knew as much. I only wanted to hear you say it. I knew it couldn’t actually be you.”
“Really?” asked Rudolph.
“Of course. You’re far too goody-two-hooves to do anything like that!”
Rudolph was so relieved that someone, particularly his best friend, believed him, he felt giddy. Then he realised that that same friend had just made him think that he was actually guilty of something he couldn’t have done. Once Flop had recovered from being, mostly playfully, swiped across the head, he scampered up close to his friend.
“The thing is, munchicken, if you didn’t do it, someone else did.”
Flop like to call everyone munchkin. He liked to but he’d never been able to pronounce the word properly.
“And the fact that your nose was seen,” he continued, “means that whoever it was wanted everyone to think it was you.”
“But why?” asked Rudolph. Why would anyone want to blame him? As far as he knew, he didn’t have any enemies.
“Think about it,” Flop said. “No sleigh, no you. What does that mean?”
“It means... Erm... It means...” Rudolph just couldn’t think.
The squirrel smiled, but the smile was a sad one, the corners of his mouth only raising themselves slightly, too unhappy to put in any real effort.
“No Sleigh. No Rudolph. No Christmas.”
* * * *
Chapter Six: Escape
No...
Oh...
“So what do we do?” Rudolph asked. He was usually much more decisive about things, but in this case, his mind was off building snowmen and having snowball fights with the younger elves. It was too confused to stick around in his head and think properly.
Building snowmen was something both of the friends loved to do and they’d often be seen, close to Christmas, creating one after another. The snowmen, once built, came to life and helped carry the presents from the factory to the sack. One the job was done, they drift off, back to being snowflakes. They didn’t mind only coming to life once a year, as the rest of the time they were able to fall wherever they pleased and were able to visit so many wonderful, far off lands.