The Famouse Fjord Race

WELCOME TO THE ANCIENT

FAR NORTH . . . AND THE
WORLD OF THE MICEKINGS!

WHERE THEY LIVE: Miceking Island

CAPITAL: Mouseborg, home of the Stiltonord family

OTHER VILLAGES: Oofadale, village of the Oofa Oofas, and Feargard,

village of the vilekings

CLIMATE: Cold, cold, cold, especially when the icy north wind blows!

TYPICAL FOOD: Gloog, a superstinky but fabumouse stew. The secret
recipe is closely guarded by the wife of the miceking chief.

NATIONAL DRINK: Finnbrew, made of equal parts cod sh juice and
herring juice, with a splash of squid ink

MEANS OF TRANSPORTATION: The drekar, a light but very fast ship
is only earned when a
GREATEST HONOR: The miceking helmet. It a Miceking Challenge.

mouse perfor ms an act of courage or wins

UNIT OF MEASUREMENT: A mouseking tail (full tail, half tail, third tail,
quarter tail)

ENEMIES: The terrible dragons who live in Beastgard



MEET THE STILTONORD FAMILY . . .

GERONIMO

Advisor to the TRAP
chief most
miceking The famouse
inventor in Mouseborg

THEA

A horse trainer who
works well with all kinds

of animals

BENJAMIN nephew
Geronimo’s

BUGSILDA best
Benjamin’s

friend



. . . AND THE EVIL DRAGONS!

GOBBLER THE PUTRID

The erce king of the
dragons is a Devourer!

The dragons are
divided into 5
clans, all of which
are terrifying!

1. Devourers
They love to eat micekings raw —
no cooking necessary.

2. Steamers them taste good.
They grab micekings, then y over
volcanoes so the steam and smoke make

SIZZLE 3. Biters nibble
Before eating micekings, they like
The cook them delicately to see if they
them or not.

4. Slurpers .
They wrap their long tongues around
micekings and slurp them up.

5. Rinsers catch micekings,
As soon as they a stream to wash
they rinse them in
them off.







Geronimo Stilton

MICEKINGS

THE FAMOUSE

FJORD RACE

Scholastic Inc.



Copyright © 2014 by Edizioni Piemme S.p.A., Palazzo Mondadori, Via
Mondadori 1, 20090
English translation © Segrate, Italy. International Rights © Atlantyca S.p.A.

2016 by Atlantyca S.p.A.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any
responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

GERONIMO STILTON names, characters, and related indicia are copyright,
S.p.A. All rights reserved. The
trademark, and exclusive license of Atlantyca Based on an original idea by

moral right of the author has been asserted.

Elisabetta Dami. www.geronimostilton.com

Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920, 557 Broadway, New York,
logos are
NY 10012. scholastic and associated trademarks and/or registered

trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

Stilton is the name of a famous English cheese. It is a registered trademark
of the Stilton Cheese Makers’ Association. For more information, go to
www.stiltoncheese.com.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded,

decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information

storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic

or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express

written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission,

please contact Atlantyca S.p.A., Via Leopardi 8, 20123 Milan, Italy; e-mail

[email protected], www.atlantyca.com.

This book is a work of ction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
either the or are used ctitiously, and any
resemblance product of the author’s imagination establishments, events,
or locales dead, business
to actual persons, living or

is entirely coincidental.

e-ISBN 978-0-545-87543-1

Text by Geronimo Stilton color)
Original title Scattare scattareee… Geronimord! (ink and
Cover by Giuseppe Facciotto (pencils) and Flavio Ferron (ink and
Illustrations by Giuseppe Facciotto (pencils) and Alessandro Costa
color)
Graphics by Chiara Cebraro

Special thanks to AnnMarie Anderson
Translated by Julia Heim
Interior design by Kay Petronio

First printing 2016



GERONIMO,

OUR HERO!

It was a splendid summer afternoon in

Mouseborg, the capital of Miceking Island.

The sun was s h i n i n g high in the sky, the

clouds were rushing past, and a light breeze

owerswas making the wave in the elds.

Oh, I’m such a s c at t e r b r a i n !

I haven’t introduced myself: My name is

Geronimo Stiltonord, and I am a

mouseking. I live in the ancient

far north, where it’s cold for

most of the year — except

in the summer! As I was

HOTsaying, it was a very

afternoon. It was so hot that

I decided to take a little nap.



When I woke, I was in the best mood.

I headed straight toward the town square.

That afternoon the entire village

specialwas celebrating a very

occasion in honor of yo u r s

t r u l y . I was about to receive

my rst miceking helmet, our

highest honor!

On the street, rodents greeted me with huge

pawshakessmiles and . When I arrived in

the square, I heard mice cheering my name:

“Geronimo! Our hero has arrived!”

“Cheesy catapults, there he is!”

“It’s Geronimo!”

A stage was set up for the ceremony, and it
was decorated with crests and COLORED

ags. THE

SVENThe village chief, and lifted
SHOUTER, stepped forward



Thank What a
you! hero!

Bravo!

his arms with a solemn gesture.

All the micekings quieted down. Sven

“ MICEKINGS of Mouseborg!” that
and
exclaimed. “This is a SPECIAL day

will be remembered for generations

generations!”

Then he looked my way.

VALIANT“Come up here, Geronimo!”

Sven said. emotion,

My whiskers trembling with

I greeted the crowd and headed for the



s h i n ystage. Sven the Shouter lifted a

miceking helmet over my head. Then, in a

thundering voice, he proclaimed:

“I, Sven the Shouter, award the highest

honor to Geronimo the Smarty-

mouseking!”

“Hip, hip, hooray!” the crowd answered,

shouting as one.

“For his incredible heroism!” Sven shouted.

“Hip, hip, hooray!” everyone replied.

“For his amazing courage!” Sven cried.

“Hip, hip, hooray!” said the crowd.

“And for his fabumouse athletic skills,”

Sven concluded as he placed the helmet over

“S0my snout. “ SAYS SVEN THE
SHOUTER!”

As is customary in Mouseborg, the crowd

echoed back:

“SO SAYS SVEN THE SHOUTER!”



Hip, hip,
hooray!
My hero . . .

Yay!

You’re a legend! Well
done!



I looked out into the audience to see my

sister, Thea, my sweet nephew Benjamin, and
and
smilingmy cousin Trap at me.

Then someone came up behind me

tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to face

bluea mouse with eyes as as the water of a

REDfjord and hair as as the sunset.

ThoraHelmets and herring! It was , Sven’s

daughter. She is the most courageous and

fascinating mouseking in the entire village!

My heart began to

pound so loudly I

was sure Thora

could hear it. As

I stared at her

foolishly,

she gave me a

HUG and
whispered



h e r oin my ear: “You look like a true

in that helmet, Geronimo!”

“Uuuuncle! Uuuuncle! ” a little voice

suddenly shrieked loudly.

“H-huh?” I stammered, confused. “Who’s

that? What’s going on?”

squeaked“Uncle!” the voice again.

POOF

What?!



I opened my eyes and nally understood.

The rejoicing crowd . . . my rst miceking

helmet . . . the courageous Thora: It had all

been just a dream!

The little voice at my door belonged to my

nephew Benjamin ! And that meant I was still

at home, half-asleep and in my pajamas.

FJORDS AND FIDDLESTICKS! That also

meant I was late for my runes lesson with

Benjamin and his friend Bugsilda!

RUNES LET’S LEARN TO READ!

Benjamin and his best friend, Bugsilda,
often visit me to learn to read and
write. I’m the of cial village
scholar, so I know runes,
which are characters that
make up the miceking
alphabet. I hold our
lessons in the yard
behind my hut.



THERE YOU ARE,

CODFISH FACE!

sighedI got out of bed and . I had only

earned a miceking helmet in my dreams. Why,

oh why did I have to be the village scholar?

I would have traded my brains for brawn in

an instant if it meant I could earn my

very own miceking helmet.

I opened the door to my hut.

But before I set one paw outside,

I looked up to see if

there were any

DRAGONS

in sight. Those

enormouse

creatures are very

dangerous because



they’re s t a r v e dalways for fresh

miceking meat!

Everything calmseemed : The sky was

blue, with just a few clouds. So Benjamin,

S T O N EBugsilda, and I headed to the

chalkboard behind my hut. I climbed up onto

my stool and began to etch runes into the

stone with a petri ed stick.

“There you are, codfish face !” a

voice bellowed.

I recognized that squeak right away. It was

Olaf the Fearless , the most obnoxious

sea-mouseking and drekar* commander!

“Great groaning glaciers!” I exclaimed.

“What are you doing here, Captain?”

“Enough with the chitchat, sailor,” Olaf

replied. “There’s no time to lose! I need your

LITTLE JOBhelp with a . Now get down

from that stool and follow me to the port

* A drekar is a light but very fast miceking ship.



while there’s still a Olaf

the Fearless

favorable WIND !”

Crusty codfish! Captain of the drekar

Just the thought of Bated Breath, he is called
“the Fearless” because he

going out to sea in must be fearless to face

that little bathtub the North Miceking Sea

made my whiskers on that stinky old heap —
tremble
Anytime in fright . er, I mean, on that most

I’m on the seaworthy ship!

water, I get terribly

drekar-sick !

“B-but I have to

finish this lesson

rst,” I said, trying

to stall. “It’s very

IMPORTANT.”

Olaf looked at the

stone blackboard.

“Does that explain



how to recognize a TAIL
WIND ?”
“No, this is the ALPHABET ,” I replied.

“Well, does it at least explain how to avoid

icebergs at sea?”

“No,” I replied. “It’s just the alphabet.”

stars“What about how to use the to

navigate?” he asked. “Or how to tie a

p r e s e r v emiceking knot? Or how to

herring with salt?”

This is the alphabet . . .

Grrrr!



“No, no, and no!” I answered, exasperated.

s t i l l“It’s just the alphabet!”

“Shivering squids!” Olaf yelled. “These

uselesslessons are ! When are you going

to teach the basic information every good

MOUSEKING SAILOR needs to know?”

I sighed.

“I don’t teach sailing, Olaf,” I tried to

explain. “I teach reading and writing. Anyway,

today’s lesson is over.”

“Great LESSON , Uncle G!” Benjamin

exclaimed. “Thanks!”

“If you don’t mind, can we listen to the

captain now?” Bugsilda added.

whiskersOlaf smoothed his and smiled.

“You remember my drekar, right?” he said

proudly.

“How could I forget that stinky — uh, I

beautifulmean, boat?” I replied.



“Well, I’m putting together a team to

compete in the Famouse Fjord Race, and I need

a proper cabin mouse,” Olaf explained. “You

know, someone who darts back and forth

on the deck all day long, FOLLOWING

ORDERS . Basically, I need someone like

you, S M A RT Y- M O U S E K I N G !”



I’M NOT A
SEA-MOUSEKING!

As soon as he heard talk of the Famouse

Fjord Race , Benjamin’s ears perked up.

“Yes! Say yes, Uncle!” he shouted. “It’s

such a barbarically f a b u m o u s e

race!”

“And the winner gets a brand-new drekar,”

Bugsilda added.

“Well said, LITTLE MICEKINGS,”

Olaf agreed. “The drekar is called Dame of

the Abyss. She’s not as great as Bated Breath,

but —” let

Benjamin and Bugsilda didn’t

him nish.

“A lot of teams will compete,” Benjamin

squeaked.



HUGE“Yeah, it’s going to be a FIELD!”

Bugsilda cried.

“ Not quite , little micekings,” Olaf

corrected. “The course is only for true sea-

riskmicekings who are willing to their
fur . It’s not going to be easy!”

I sighed with relief. This was my OUT !

“I’m not a true sea-mouseking!” I cried.

“So I’m afraid I can’t be your cabin mouse,

Olaf.”

It’s up to you . . .
No excuses!

But . . . I . . .



But Olaf just gave me an enormouse
are all
THUMP on the back.

“Unfortunately, the best sailors

busy,” Olaf replied. “You’re the only one left,

smarty -mouseking. But don’t worry:

You’re as weak as a baby herring now, but

you won’t be for long. On the honor of

Olaf the Fearless! ”
“B-but, I can’t leave!” I protested. “I have

too many things to do in Mouseborg.”

“Oh, yeah?” Olaf asked, looking me up and

down. “And what exactly do you have to do

that’s so U RG E N T ?”

“Umm . . . I have to dust the attic and

sharpen the petri ed sticks for sketching

runes,” I squeaked meekly.

“No more excuses!” the commander burst

boneless codout. “Don’t be a. It’s up to

you, smarty-mouseking. Now get ready to