from Cape Suzette..." Baloo began.

Kit continued, "The prevailing winds would have blown him towards…"

"Patagoita," Baloo and Kit said simultaneously.

Kit nodded. "Makes sense. Near where the bottle was found."

Baloo gathered up the note and bottle and headed out the door as quickly as he had entered. "Thanks, Bontrotter!"

The professor looked after them for a moment, then snatched his black fedora from the hat rack, calling, "Wait! I'm coming with you!"

Hours Later…
The Patagoita Plains

Two hats, a red pilot's cap and a black fedora, bobbed above the rustling golden grass that blanketed the flat plains as far as the eye could see.

"The Patagoita Plains are home to the Prancing Pygmies," Bontrotter mentioned as he walked behind Kit in the path tromped down by Baloo. "The small, but peaceful, group of natives live in huts made from the very grass we're walking through. If your uncle landed around here, they would know."

Suddenly, the trio came to a clearing in the grass. Directly in front of them was the pygmy village. The huts were exactly as the learned man had described: a circular base with a single door and a triangular grass 'hat'.

Baloo mopped his brow, remarking, "You're a regular walkin' encyclopedia, Professor."

"Well, I am one of the foremost geographers in the world," the hippo said with a smile and a shrug.

"What are the pygmies doing now?" Kit asked, pocketing his compass.

The professor trained his binoculars on the village. "Why, it appears to be their annual rain conga dance." He traded his binoculars for his camera, which also hung from a strap around his neck, and snapped a picture.

They watched as the alligator pygmies, rattlesnake rattle-tipped spears in hand, formed a chorus line and did synchronized kicks in time with the pounding rhythm of the bongo drums. The faster the drums played, the faster the dancers danced until they were a mesmerizing blur of red feathered headdresses, grass skirts, and kicking legs.

"C'mon," Baloo scoffed. From the gigantic cracks that crisscrossed the parched earth, it was obvious that no precipitation had fallen on the plains for a long, long time. "Dancin' can't make it rain."

Just as he said that, dark clouds obliterated the sun and a drop of rain plopped on his head.

Then the sky opened up and it became a drenching downpour.

"You were saying?" Kit said wryly as lightning flashed across the sky immediately followed by a crash of thunder.

The dripping explorers were surprised to see the pygmies scramble into canoes woven out of grass.

"What are they doin'? It's just a little rain." Baloo ran towards them, waving his arms and shouting, "Wait! I gotta ask you about my uncle!"

Suddenly, behind them, they could hear a distant low rumble that was growing louder by the second. Turning around, they saw a huge tidal wave rushing towards them.

"We gotta get back to the Sea Duck!" Baloo cried.

"It's too far away!"

"The tree! Head for the tree!" Professor Bontrotter shouted, pointing to the only tree in sight.

The explorers, pushing through the blinding rain, splashed through growing puddles towards the gigantic tree in the middle of the village. Baloo reached it first and gave Kit a boost into the branches before scrambling up after him.

"Where's the prof?" Baloo wondered.

The unflappable hippo was snapping picture after picture of the tree. "A remarkable specimen. The biggest Ombu tree I've ever seen."

Baloo retorted, "If you don't get up here right now, it'll be the last tree you'll ever see!"

He grabbed the professor by the collar and yanked him up into the tree mere moments before the wave engulfed them. Eyes shut and breaths held, the trio clung tightly to the branches as the water smashed against them with the force of a dump truck crashing into a nitroglycerin plant.

When the wave had passed and the rain had stopped, the village and pygmies had disappeared. The tree was only thing visible in a vast lake.

"Help!" Baloo shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Help! Aw...nuts!" He wrung the water out of his cap. "Stuck in this tree, surrounded by an ocean of water, no Duck in sight. What else can go wrong?"

As if on cue, a log bumped up against the tree trunk and the large, wet, unhappy feline that had been clinging to it disembarked, snarling.

Grabbing for a higher branch that was just out of reach, Professor Bontrotter said, "Well, a leopard could come, looking to make us his dinner."

Crrrrack! said an extremely close bolt of lightning. The thunder answered back: Boom!

"Uh, don't look now, but the tree's on fire," Kit announced, looking at the blazing upper branches.

"This is ridiculous!" Baloo exclaimed. He didn't know which fate he preferred: fried or fare.

"Looks more like a waterspout to me," Bontrotter said, pointing off to the distance to where a funnel was wending its way towards them.

"Whoa!" they all cried as the burning tree with the three explorers and the leopard was whisked into the air.

End of part 1

In Search of Moe Chances
Part 2

Talespin and its characters are the property of Disney / Buena Vista and are used without permission.

In the Stormy Sky Over Patagoita

In the last chapter, our trio of intrepid travelers, plus one leopard, were hurtling through the air in a flaming tree, courtesy of a waterspout.

"Whoa!" they continued to shout as they spun around and around with nauseating speed.

Then, as suddenly as the waterspout had appeared, it disappeared. For a moment, the tree and its occupants were suspended in midair.

"Hang on!" Baloo gasped dizzily. "This ride ain't over yet."

As if to corroborate his statement, the tree plummeted like an elevator without brakes.

"Whoa!"

"Miraarow!" wailed the leopard, digging its claws deeper into the bark.

Sploosh! They landed in the floodwaters.

"Is everyone all right?" Professor Bontrotter asked, shakily getting to his feet only to stumble backwards over a branch. While checking the functionality of his camera, he accidentally blinded himself with the flash.

"All right here," replied Kit. He tapped the water out of his compass and assessed their situation. They were still surrounded by a vast lake with no land in sight. "The good news is that the fire's out. The bad news is that I don't know where we are."

Brushing leaves from his shirt, Baloo added, "Even worse news is that that crazy cat's still with us."

When the leopard snarled and started to approach, Baloo cooed nervously, "Nice kitty. Good kitty." He broke off a branch and put himself between the leopard and his friends. Desperately waving the stick to ward off the feline, not to mention its deadly claws and teeth, he muttered, "I don't s'pose you speak man-munchin' mountain lion, Professor?"

"Unfortunately, that is not one of the thirty-seven languages with which I am acquainted."

They all cringed as the leopard pounced…

...and jumped into a boat that had just rowed up beside them. It was occupied by the Prancing Pygmies.

"Cutie-pie!" a little pygmy girl exclaimed happily.

"Cutie-pie?" Baloo and Kit echoed, astonished.

The leopard purred as the little girl petted it.

Professor Bontrotter spoke to one of the Pygmies in their native language. After listening to the man's reply, he translated, "The chief said since you saved his daughter's pet, he will transport you to your plane. They spotted it a few miles from here."

"Solid!" Baloo said, his face brightening. "Could ya ask him about my Uncle Moe?"

The professor and the chief conversed briefly.

"Sorry, Baloo, but they have not seen your uncle or his dirigible."

At the pilot's crestfallen look, Kit reminded him, "There are still a lot of other places along the 37th parallel."

The professor took a world map out of his pocket and traced the latitude line with his finger. "The next stop is Tillagain's Island."

Tillagain's Island

The Sea Duck pulled up near a tiny island populated with palm trees. After the seaplane's propellers came to a stop, the only sounds were the waves, the wind in the trees, and overlapping bird calls.

"I don't know, Papa Bear. There doesn't seem to be anyone here."

"Professor?" Baloo asked, glancing over his shoulder at the hippo, who was examining the island through his binoculars.

"According to what I've read, Tilligain's Island is uninhabited. Of course, we could ask him."

A tall, lanky bird wearing a sailor's outfit loped along the beach, collecting coconuts and singing something about a three-hour tour.

Baloo yelled out the open window, "Hey, pal! Could ya give us some help?"

Surprised to see an airplane, the man dropped all the coconuts and hurried towards them. "Hi. Uh, sure."

"Have ya happened to see a huge silver dirigible?"

"A dirigibbible...a dirigibabble...a what?"

"Dirigible. A big balloon."

"Oh." The sailor began to count on his fingers. "I've seen lots of natives, gangsters, doctors, scientists, spies, men from outer space, and a ghost, but no dirigibibble...uh, big balloon."

"Thanks, pal!" Baloo started

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