let’s see,” I mumbled. “I am
here, or maybe I’m here.
And then I’m
headed there — or
maybe there?” I checked
79
the compass. North, South, East, West. It
wasn’t as easy as I’d thought. I tried giving
myself a pep talk. “You can figure it out,
Stilton,” I insisted. “Just use your brain!”
But my brain must have been taking a
cheese break. Half an hour later, I burst into
tears. “Rotten rat’s teeth!” I squeaked.
"I'm lost”
I roamed the jungle for hours. Every now
and then, I would stop to have a good cry.
Oh, how could my family do this to me?
They said they wanted to help me, but
maybe they just wanted to get rid of me! Yes,
that had to be it! If I were gone, my sister
would probably sell The Rodent’s Gazette.
She’d buy a beauty salon and get her fur
done every day for free. My cousin would
move into my large, comfy mouse hole. He
was such a slob. He’d make a mess of my
pretty cat-fur rug. Just thinking about it
made me angry. “I’m going to make it back if
it kills me!” I cried, stamping my paw.
Suddenly, I heard a rustling sound in the
leaves. I gulped. Maybe I shouldn’t have
used the word kill. I didn’t want to give
some wild animal any ideas!
Grabbing a big stick for protection, I hid
behind a tree.
Just then, I saw a bush move.
“Take that, you wild animal!” I shrieked,
striking with all my might.
a voice cried out. A
“
O
o
o
o
u
c
h
!
”
B
a
n
g
g
g
g
!
“
O
o
o
o
u
c
h
!
”
Geronimo
Stilton
Burt Burlyrat
rodent crawled out from behind the bush.
No, it wasn’t a wild animal at all. It was
Burt Burlyrat.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, B.B.!” I apologized. “I
thought you were about to attack me!”
Burt rubbed his head. He looked annoyed.
By now, he had sprouted a huge bump on
his forehead. I felt bad about the bump. But
I didn’t feel bad about running into B.B.
With his help, I could definitely get to the
NEW CAMP. After all, B.B. had said he was a
forest ranger. A forest ranger should be able
“
T
h
e
c
o
m
p
a
s
s
i
s
n
e
v
e
r
w
r
o
n
g
!
!
!
!
”
to read a map and a compass, right?
“Let’s get going!” he ordered, sounding
like an army general. I hopped to my paws.
B.B. checked the compass. “This way!” he
shouted, storming off. “The compass is never
wrong!”
I scurried behind him. B.B. wasn’t exactly
the friendliest mouse around. I mean, I
wouldn’t invite him over for one of my aunt
Honeywhisker’s yummy cheddar casseroles.
But I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out of
this creepy jungle.
After a while, I started to worry again.
We had been hiking for five hours, but we
didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. “Um,
B.B., shouldn’t we be there by now?” I
asked, wiping sweat from my fur.
He shot me a look. “I told you, Stilton,
this is the right direction!” he shrieked.
84
“The compass is never wrong!”
two more hours,
my paws were killing me. B.B. kept insisting
we were going the right way, but I had a
terrible feeling. Something wasn’t right.
Finally, the sun began to set. I started to
panic. “Um, are you sure you know where
we’re going?” I asked B.B. for the millionth
time.
Instead of scowling at me, B.B began to
tremble. Then he did the most un-B.B.-like
thing. He began to cry! He cried so hard I
thought we would have to swim out of
there. “I’m lost!” he choked. “I’m totally
and completely lost!”
I tried to cheer him up. “Don’t worry,” I
said. “We are lost together. We’ll find our
way out of here. I promise.”
I stared at the trees surrounding us. All of
a sudden, I had an idea. “Let’s climb a tree!”
I said. “From way up high, we may be able
to see our CAMP!”
B.B. brightened. Then he turned sad
again. “I can’t climb a tree,” he groaned.
“My head is still spinning from the bump.
You are the only one who can save us,
Geronimo!”
I was worried. But I couldn’t let B.B.
down. “No problemo,” I said, trying to
sound brave.
I began to climb. My paws felt like cream
I
b
e
g
a
n
t
o
c
l
i
m
b
.
86
cheese, but I remembered Suzie Squeaker’s
advice. I never looked down.
I climbed higher and higher.
After a while, I stopped. I stared out over
the treetops.
There! In the dark, I could see the lights
from the CAMP. I was so happy. I felt like I
had just been named author of the year.
“I can see the camp. It’s over there!” I
called to B.B.
87
88
Slowly, I climbed down again. As soon as
I reached the ground, B.B. hugged me.
It turns out he wasn’t a real forest ranger
after all. He was just a pretend forest ranger
at Mouseyworld, the popular rodents’
amusement park. That explained why he
couldn’t figure out the compass.
Fifteen minutes later, we reached the
CAMP.
Penelope woke us up at dawn with the
usual shower of icy water. I was beginning
to wonder where she was getting it. I hadn’t
had a nice, icy beverage since we left New
Mouse City!
After a breakfast of scrambled worms, she
gave us a lesson on survival techniques.
“
Rattytrap Jungle is full of dangers!
”
she squeaked. “You must be careful
where
you step, as you are about to see.”
She stuck a red flag in the ground. “Sit
HERE, STILTON!” she ordered.
I was about to sit down when
Penelope began to shout, “Don’t
MOVE, STILTON!” She kicked
away a leaf on the ground.
DAY 5: FRIDAY
89
U
n
d
e
r
n
e
a
t
h
l
a
y
a
h
u
g
e
s
c
o
r
p
i
o
n
!
90
Underneath lay a huge scorpion!
“Be careful where you step,” our teacher
repeated. “If you had sat down, you’d be A
DEAD MOUSE, STILTON!”
I shivered. My life flashed before my eyes.
Then, suddenly, someone was poking me.
“No time for daydreaming!” Penelope
shouted. She pointed to the path ahead.
“Danger is everywhere,” she said again.
“Now walk to the end of the path, Stilton!”
I set out. I had hardly taken more than a
couple of steps when I was suddenly lifted
into the air! A rope was hidden in the
bushes. It was a trap!
“Cheese niblets!” I cried. I was dangling
upside down!
Our teacher chuckled. “See what I mean,
Stilton?” she said, cutting the rope that was
holding me up. I fell right on my snout!
“
Ow!
” I screamed.
But Penelope wasn’t
finished with me. “Run
toward that tree, Stilton!”
she demanded.
I groaned. What would
happen to me this time?
Would I be blinded by a
sharp tree branch? Would
I break all of my paws?
I sighed. Then I took
off. Seconds later, I fell
into a deep, dark
hole. “Help!”
I shrieked.
Our teacher
peeped into
the hole.
92
she smirked. “Good. Deal
with it!” Then she turned to
the others. “I hope that you
will all remember what has
happened to our friend here today!” she
squeaked. “Now let’s go!”
My mouth dropped open. I began to
shake. This was the lowest of the low. How
could she leave me alone in this dark, scary
place? It was so horrifying. Can you guess
why? That’s right, I'M AFRAID OF
ENCLOSED SPACES!
I waited three hours. Finally, Penelope
came back and pulled me out. I was still
shaking, but I was proud of myself. I had
done it! Yes, I, Geronimo Stilton, had
faced another fear!
“
A
r
e
y
o
u
s
t
i
l
l
a
l
i
v
e
,
s
t
i
l
t
o
n
?
”
Our teacher peeped into the hole.
The next morning, I got up extra early. I
hid behind my cabin door. I was going to
trick our evil teacher at her own game.
When she arrived with her bucket of icy
water, I stuck out my paw. She tripped.
Water flew everywhere. But not a drop
landed on me. “
Oops
,” I said when
Penelope caught me.
She handed me a mop. “
CLEAN UP
THIS MESS!
”
she ordered, but she
was half smiling. “Not bad, Stilton,” she
admitted. “Not bad for a scaredy mouse.”
After a breakfast of fried fleas, we lined
up. Penelope said she needed a volunteer.
Someone who was afraid of spiders.
I quickly hid behind B.B. I’m sure you
DAY 6: SATURDAY
94
already know why. I AM AFRAID OF
SPIDERS!
“I’m going to choose a name,” our teacher
announced. She stared up at the clouds. She
pretended to be deep in thought. But she
didn’t fool me. I knew what was coming.
Seconds later, she cried, “Stilton!”
Oh, why did she always have to pick on
me?! I sighed and came forward.
Penelope picked up a small cage. It was
full of hairy spiders.
Stale Swiss rolls! Just
seeing all of those
spindly legs gave
me
mouse bumps!
“Just remember to
stay calm,” she advised. “Now
close your eyes, Stilton!” She
placed something on my snout.
95
“Keep very still, Stilton,” our teacher
whispered. “And whatever you do, don’t
open your eyes!”
I tried. But I was curious. I just had to see
what was on my snout. Slowly, I peeked
open one eye. An enormous hairy spider
stared back at me!
I was too horrified to squeak.
“Keep still for ten seconds,” Penelope
ordered. Then she began to count. The rest
of the group joined in. “Ten, nine, eight,
seven, six, five . . .”
MY WHISKERS TREMBLED WITH FEAR.
“You can do it!” Tubby shouted.
“You’re almost there!” B.B. cheered.
“Hurray for Stilton!” everyone shouted
when the countdown was over.
I pointed to the spider with a trembling
paw. “Take it off, please,” I squeaked.
Our teacher sneered. She took the spider
and waved it under my nose. How strange.
The spider’s legs didn’t seem to be moving
at all. In fact, it looked quite stiff. I peered
at it closely.
“It’s plastic, Stilton!” Penelope smirked.
I fainted. But moments later, she woke
me up with a bucketful of icy water! So
much for starting my day
off on the right paw.
Next, Penelope pulled a
from a sack. She twisted it
up into a ball like a pro.
“I’m going to teach you how
to tell the difference between
a poisonous snake and one that is
harmless,” she said. “The one I’m holding
now is harmless. Catch it, Silverfur!” she
shouted, throwing it to Sandy.
The reptile twisted itself around her neck.
Without batting an eyelash, Sandy shouted,
"Yip-peeee!"
Everyone applauded.
h
u
g
e
g
r
e
e
n
s
n
a
k
e
T
h
e
o
l
d
m
o
u
s
e
w
e
n
t
p
a
l
e
,
b
u
t
s
h
e
s
t
i
l
l
m
a
n
a
g
e
d
t
o
c
a
t
c
h
t
h
a
t
s
n
a
k
e
i
n
m
i
d
a
i
r
.
Penelope grabbed another snake from the
sack. She whirled it in the air. “Always hold
a snake by its tail,” she explained. “This way
it can’t bite.”
I watched carefully. It looked so easy.
Without thinking, I picked up a snake that
looked just like the others. I began whirling
it over my head.
“Look at me!” I shouted with pride.
For some odd reason, Penelope didn’t
look happy. Maybe she liked to be the only
one showing off. Oh, well, I decided, old
Poisonfur would just have to get used to it.
The new Geronimo Stilton was brave.
He was tough. And he wasn’t afraid to show
it! Then I noticed Penelope had dropped her
snake. She waved her paws in the air. What
was she doing? Some kind of jungle dance?
“That’s the wrong snake, Stilton!”
I began whirling the snake over my head.
Penelope squeaked. “It’s poisonous!”
Moldy mozzarella sticks! I was terrified.
“Don’t panic, Stilton,” our teacher
continued. “Just keep whirling it!”