The Old Furry Mopprag said that she was feeling too fragile for hill climbing expeditions.

Mungojerrie, who had decided upon a long, lazy, relaxing day, said he would stay behind on the pretext of looking after the Mopprag’s needs.

“Mew, mew, he can help me with the washing up,” exclaimed Mopprag, looking over at Mungo stretched out on his back, “and then we’ll have tea ready, awaiting your return.”

Tigtoes had come bouncing in after rushing round the garden, checking on the local birds and which flowers were blooming, and immediately joined the expedition party, full of anticipation for fun and games climbing through the heather.

Squimps had disappeared for a short while, but returned in splendid attire, ready to lead the cat party. He had a stout rucksack packed with pouches of Pussypaws, a fine jacket to keep out any inclement weather, a warm woolly knitted hat, and a coiled rope to aid any rescues.

Bullpuss had his climbing boots tied together by the laces and strung across his shoulders. His fine claws would grip any amount of climbing, but the boots would help avoid damp and sticky paws when crossing patches of bog.


Similarly Tabitha had pairs of matching colourful bootees, which she would wear all the time, expecting the larger cats to help her with climbing rock faces, whereas to cross the wet bogs she would put plastic covers over the bootees.