wrong yet, but blamed if this ol’ pilot can’t never tell his right from his left.”

“You should, Daddy, because you got a ring on your left hand.” Molly pointed to her father’s wedding band.

Baloo patted her on the head. “Yeah, I do, Muffin, but ‘ring’ starts with ‘rrr’ just like ‘right’ an’ that makes me more ker-fuddled.” He took Cassie from Rebecca and ‘flew’ her around until the toddler giggled with glee.

“So you’re saying that you’re always ker-fuddled, Baloo? Why am I not surprised?” Rebecca said with a mischievous smile, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“Hardy-har-har, Becky,” Baloo said morosely.

“Who needs to lighten up now? I was just joking,” she laughed, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Happy anniversary, darling.”

Baloo’s scowl gradually turned into a broad smile. He never could stay mad at his wife for long, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Mommy, Daddy, let’s go!” Molly called from the door of the building where she and Kit were waiting.

“We’d better hurry, or the kids will go without us.” Rebecca linked her arm through her husband’s.

“Not Daddy’s little Gingersnap,” Baloo replied, kissing the tip of Cassie’s nose. “She’ll stick with her mama an’ papa.”

“Bye-bye, Dad-dee!” Cassie said. Before Baloo knew what was happening, the toddler had squirmed out of his arms and was hurrying to join her brother and sister.

“You were saying, Baloo?” Rebecca remarked with a grin as they walked towards the building.

Baloo rubbed the back of his neck. “If that kid goes any faster, she’ll break the sound barrier.”

Rebecca laughed as she and her family entered the building.

This was the chance that Weazel had been waiting for. He got out of his car and crossed the parking lot to the Chevrolette. He peeked through the car’s window. Success! The diaper bag was on the backseat.

After flashing a wary glance at the building, Weazel quickly opened the door and snatched up the diaper bag. He zipped it open and, turning it upside down, unceremoniously dumped its contents onto the seat. He pawed through five clean cloth diapers, a tin of talcum powder, a squeaky rubber giraffe, and countless diaper pins to get to the brochures and maps. But when he had looked through everything, he discovered something: he was right back at square one. The treasure map of Emperor Karat wasn’t there.

“It’sgotta be here somewhere! A map don’t just disappear into thin air,” he muttered to himself. Weazel stuck his hand inside the diaper bag to check for secret compartments, but all he found was an open diaper pin, which pricked his thumb. “Ouch!” he cried, sticking his throbbing thumb in his mouth. “Son of a hamster!” he swore, slamming the car door. “Those thievin’ bears must have it on ‘em. How dare they steal my stolen property?”

Fuming inwardly, the fed-up weasel drew his revolver from his jacket pocket and checked to make sure that it was loaded. It was. He snapped the barrel back into place, spun it, and put the gun back in his pocket. “It’s bear-hunting season,” he said sinisterly, stalking towards the cave.

Inside, Weazel found himself on the outskirts of a crowd of approximately twenty-five people of all ages and species. The von Bruinwalds were in the middle of the huddle, near the tour guide.

The tour guide was a vociferous grey wolf wearing a khaki shirt; a flashlight protruded from his shirt pocket. “Gather ‘round, people. Don’t be shy. I’m Gord, your terrific tour guide who’s gonna lead you wonderful tourists through the wonders of the Wonderful Cave of the Four Winds. Whew! Try to say that five times fast. Before we get started, I would like to point out the gift shop over yonder. For the next five minutes, all flashlights are on sale. Batteries not included. Kids, bug your parents for one. It’s really dark in the cave.”

He paused for a reaction, but all he got were blank stares. “Just kidding. The path that we’re taking is well-lighted with 25,000 little twinkle lights. Okay, maybe not quite that many. The tour’s about 45 minutes long, so if you need to use the bathroom, now would be a good time. The owners frown on people using the cave for a toilet and, boy, can they frown! All year round, it’s a cool 54 degrees Fahrenheit in the cave.” He grinned at the ten-year-old twin hyenas right in front of him. “That’s pretty cool, huh, guys?”

The boys nodded.

Gord continued, “There’s lots of animals in the cave, including snakes and bats, but the biggest animal is yours truly.” He proudly jerked a thumb at himself. “Just ask my girlfriend. Aoooooooooo!” The guide let out a howl, which prompted a few polite smiles as well as a few eye rolls from the tourists.

Weazel cringed. Bats! He hated bats!

“Question, question, who’s got a question?” Gord asked, scanning the crowd. “No one? Okey-dokey, artichokey. Let’s have some pun.” He opened a door that led into the cave, allowing cool, damp air to seep out. “Watch your step and your heads, folks. Now stop me if you’ve heard this one. Why did the cave get into trouble? It had a big mouth. Get it?”

Twenty Minutes Later

Weazel, sandwiched between a giraffe and an alligator, trudged along as the tourists walked, single file, through a narrow, winding passageway. He kept shooting furtive glances up at the cave’s ceiling, on the lookout for bats. All he wanted to do was get the map and get out of the bat-infested cave, but the von Bruinwalds were at the head of the procession while he was near the rear.

He could barely hear Gord say, “Around this narrow bend, called Fat Man’s Folly, is the largest room in the cave - The Cathedral. In 1872, miners looking for gold came down here, but, boy, were they fooled. All they found was pyrite or fool’s gold. Ba-dum-dum-ching!”

Receiving no laughs, no chuckles, not even a smile for his lame wordplay, Gord added, “These are the jokes, folks.”

“Is that what he calls ‘em?” Baloo gasped, struggling to squeeze through the narrow crevice.

“Suck it in, Papa Bear,” Kit whispered. He pushed on one side while Molly pulled from the other.

“I am!” the big bear wheezed.

“You’re going on a diet, Baloo,” Rebecca said sternly.

“I’m already on a diet - the see food diet.” Baloo popped through. He ruefully rubbed his sore abdomen. “I see food an’ I eat it.”

“That’s not the kind of diet I meant.”

Catching this aside, Gord said, “Speaking of diets, what’s a vampire bat’s favorite sweet? A sucker!”

Molly whispered to Kit, “His jokes are worse than Daddy’s.”

When everyone in the tour group had entered the large room dubbed The Cathedral, Gord said, “If you look closely at the ceiling, you might see some bats.” He focused his flashlight beam on a tiny blob of brown fur nestled next to a stalactite. “There’s Batty Davis, star of stage, screen, and cave. She’s soaking up the spotlight. And speaking of bats, did ya ever hear the one where two bats were hanging from the roof of a cave when they saw a group of people walking towards them? One bat turned to the other and said, ‘How come the blood doesn't rush to their feet?’ Huh? Huh?”

It was quiet enough to hear a stalagmite grow.

“Tough audience. How about this one? Why did the bat brush his teeth?”

The hyena twins yelled out the punch line simultaneously. “Because he had bat breath!”

At that, everyone chuckled, making the room reverberate with laughter. Weazel took advantage of the distraction to start inching towards the von Bruinwalds, his fingers folded around the revolver concealed in his pocket.

When the laughter had died down, Gord said good-naturedly, “Oh, sure,that you find funny. However, the miners didn’t find this place so funny. They came down here through that hole way up there.” He directed his flashlight beam to a small opening in the roof of the cave, several hundred feet above their heads. “Using ropes, they lowered themselves down here and when they found what they thought was real gold, they got real excited and scrambled all the way back up their ropes to get their equipment.”

Weazel, who was right behind Rebecca, slowly reached out a hand for her purse. He swiftly drew his hand back, leaning casually against an old wooden cart, when Gord said, “This is what they left when they found out it was fool’s gold.”

The guide pointed out the dilapidated wooden cart resting on rusty railroad tracks. The tracks disappeared down a dark tunnel. “Anybody want to take a ride on that roller coaster? Me, neither. Anyway, when the miners came down here through that hole in the ceiling on ropes they were equipped with only lanterns and candles. No nice electric-lighted path for them. Now, we’ll see what it was like for those miners.”

Gord flicked a switch on the wall beside him, plunging them into utter darkness.

When the lights went out, Cassie cried, “Uh-oh!” inciting a few amused chuckles.

Weazel whipped out his revolver and crept up on bears, intending to search their pockets. But before he could reach them, something swooped near his cheek. Gasping with fright, he backpedaled backwards, tripped over a railroad

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