"You cakesniffers look ridiculous," said one of the scouts, and the Baudelaires knew at once which masked figure was Carmelita Spats. "Your faces are all covered up."
"We're meek," Violet said, thinking quickly. "In fact, we're so meek that we hardly ever show our faces."
"Then you'll fit in just fine," said Bruce from behind his mask. "The name's Bruce, but you can call me Uncle Bruce, although I'm almost certainly not your real uncle. Welcome to the Snow Scouts, travelers, where all of us are meek. In fact, we're accommodating, basic, calm. ."
The other Snow Scouts all joined in the pledge, and the two elder Baudelaires stood through another rendition of the absurd list, while the scout in the sweater stood up and stepped toward them. "We have some spare masks over there," he murmured quietly, and gestured toward a large pile of equipment, stacked beside a very long wooden pole. "They'll keep the snow gnats away when you go back outside. Help yourself."
"Thank you," Violet replied, as the scouts promised to be kept, limited, and meek. She and her brother quickly grabbed masks and put them on underneath the coat, so that by the time the scouts vowed to be xylophone, young, and zippered, they looked as faceless as everyone else in the cave.
"That was fun, kids," said Bruce, as the snowy sound faded and the pledge was over. "Now why don't you two join the Snow Scouts? We're an organization for young people to have fun and learn new things. Right now we're on a Snow Scout Hike. We're going to hike all the way up to Mount Fraught in order to celebrate False Spring."
"What's False Spring?" Violet asked, sitting down between her brother and the sweatered scout.
"Anybody who's not a cakesniffer knows what False Spring is," Carmelita said in a scornful voice. "It's when the weather gets unusually warm before getting very cold again. We celebrate it with a fancy dance where we spin around and around the Springpole." She pointed to the wooden pole, and the Baudelaires noticed that the Snow Scouts all wore bright white mittens, each emblazoned with an S. "When the dance is over, we choose the best Snow Scout and crown her the False Spring Queen. This time, it's me. In fact, it's always me."
"That's because Uncle Bruce is really your uncle," said one of the other Snow Scouts.
"No, it's not," Carmelita insisted. "It's because I'm the most accommodating, basic, calm, darling, emblematic, frisky, grinning, human, innocent, jumping, kept, limited, meek, nap-loving, official, pretty, quarantined, recent, scheduled, tidy, understandable, victorious, wholesome, xylophone, young, and zippered."
"How can anyone be 'xylophone'?" Klaus couldn't help asking. "'Xylophone' isn't even an adjective."
"Uncle Bruce couldn't think of another word that began with X," explained the sweatered Snow Scout, in a tone of voice indicating that he thought this wasn't a very good excuse.
"How about 'xenial'?" Klaus suggested. "It's a word that means "
"You can't change the words of the Snow Scout Alphabet Pledge," Bruce interrupted, moving his cigar toward his face as if he were going to try to smoke it through the mask. "The whole point of the Snow Scouts is that you do the same thing over and over. We celebrate False Spring over and over, on Mount Fraught, at the source of the Stricken Stream. My niece Carmelita Spats is False Spring Queen, over and over. And over and over, we stop here in this cave for Snow Scout Story Time."
"I read that the caves of the Mortmain Mountains contained hibernating animals," Klaus said. "Are you sure it's safe to stop here?"
The Snow Scout who was wearing a sweater instead of a uniform turned his head quickly to the Baudelaires, as if he was going to speak, but Bruce answered first. "It's safe now, kid," he said. "Years ago, apparently these mountains were crawling with bears. The bears were so intelligent that they were trained as soldiers. But they disappeared and no one knows why."
"Not bears," the scout in the sweater said, so quietly that the two Baudelaires had to lean in to hear him. "Lions lived in these caves. And they weren't soldiers. The lions were detectives volunteer feline detectives." He turned so his mask was facing the two siblings, and the children knew he must be staring at them through the holes. "Volunteer Feline Detectives," he said again, and the Baudelaires almost gasped.
"Did you say " Violet said, but the sweatered Snow Scout shook his head as if it was not safe to talk. Violet looked at her brother and then at the scout, wishing she could see both of their faces behind their masks. The initials of "Volunteer Feline Detectives," of course, spelled "V.F.D.," the name of the organization they were looking for. But were these initials a coincidence, as they had seemed to be so many times? Or was this mysterious scout giving them some sort of signal?
"I don't know what you kids are muttering about," Bruce said, "but stop it this instant. It's not time for conversation. It's Snow Scout Story Time, when one Snow Scout tells a story to the other Snow Scouts. Then we'll all eat marshmallows until we feel sick and go to sleep on a heap of blankets, just like we do every year. Why don't our new scouts tell the first story?"
"I should tell the first story," whined Carmelita. "After all, I'm the False Spring Queen."
"But I'm sure the travelers will have a wonderful story to tell," the sweatered scout said. "I'd love to hear a Very Fascinating Drama."
Klaus saw his sister raise her hands to her head and smiled. He knew Violet had instinctively begun to tie her hair up in a ribbon to help her think, but it was impossible to do so with a mask on. Both the Baudelaire minds were racing to figure out a way to communicate with this mysterious scout, and the children were so lost in thought that they scarcely heard Carmelita Spats insulting them.
"Stop sitting around, cakesniffers," Carmelita said. "If you're going to tell us a story, get started."
"I'm sorry for the delay," Violet said, choosing her words as carefully as she could. "We haven't had a Very Fun Day, so it's difficult to think of a good story."
"I didn't realize this was a sad occasion," said the sweatered scout.
"Oh, yes," Klaus said. "We've had nothing to eat all day except for some Vinegar-Flavored Doughnuts."
"And then there were the snow gnats," Violet said. "They behaved like Violent Frozen Dragonflies."
"When they form an arrow," Klaus said, "they're more like a Voracious Fierce Dragon."
"Or a Vain Fat Dictator, I imagine," the scout in the sweater said, and gave the Baudelaires a masked nod as if he had received their message.
"This is the most boring story I have ever heard," Carmelita Spats said. "Uncle Bruce, tell these two that they're both cakesniffers."
"Well, it wouldn't be very accommodating to say so," Bruce said, "but I must admit that the story you were telling was a little dull, kids. When Snow Scouts tell stories, they skip everything boring and only tell the interesting parts. That way, the story can be as accommodating, basic, calm, darling, emblematic, frisky, grinning, human, innocent, jumping, kept, limited, meek, nap-loving, official, pretty, quarantined, recent, scheduled, tidy, understandable, victorious, wholesome, xylophone, young, and zippered as possible."