The Hollowed Tree

by R. K. Johnstone

  "Haarumph!" the owl grunted ominously and shook his claws, portending thereby the uttering of pronouncements of the gravest import. "In that case--haarumph--haarumph--an executive order--haarumph--I believe--haarumph--will speed things up a bit! Haarumph!"

  "An executive order!" the Magistrate exclaimed, unable to conceal his feelings of disgust and dismay. "Horace? This is unprecedented!"

  Having regained his composure, the resilient district attorney leveled a shrewd gaze at the lion and the owl.

  "So you're playing that game, is it?"

  "It's no game," the lion growled, returning the boar's gaze with one of deadly serious intensity. "By executive order the case comes to a hearing before the Magistrate tomorrow."

  "And if it goes to full jury trial?" Horace said, raising a hoary nodule above one eye.

  "Haarumph!" the owl fumed. "A development--haarumph--which you will attempt no doubt to bring about with your--haarumph--infernal litigation! Haarumph!"

  "No one litigates more skillfully than yourself, Honorashious. It seems, however, that you approve of it only when it produces results favorable to your desires."

  "Haarumph! Unlike Warthog Court, the litigation--haarumph--of the Seventh is never influenced by political considerations! Haarumph--haarumph!"

  "An overly broad statement, perhaps," Horace said, pausing doubtfully. "At any rate," he continued, assuming an official tone of voice, "setting the precedent of subverting due process, e.g., through the issuance of executive orders to convene special emergency sessions in Warthog Court, is a dangerous one, indeed. With so little preparation the possibility for settling matters without a host of unresolved technical and procedural errors, not to mention the likelihood of an ill-considered judgment that could cause embarrassment to the monarch, is manifest. I am surprised that you should wish to set yourself up for such an outcome."

  "Your surprise is evident," Percy retorted with a somewhat malicious grin, "and understandable as well. These objections, however, are specious. The errors of which you speak are quite irrelevant to a hearing by the Magistrate, a fact of which you are well aware."

  "Haarumph!" Honorashious grunted with approval. He purposefully maintained a pensive silence throughout the following legal discussions in order to establish from the very beginning the underpinnings of their arguments the following day upon the executive authority of Perceival Theodilious the Eighth. This, the owl knew was their only hope for an expeditious resolution of the case, which, given the unpropitious nature of developments thus far, and despite his marked predilection for engaging in contentious litigation, he was beginning to regret having ever brought to court in the first place.

  "You rely on our adherence to law and order to permit you to spin your litigious and entrapping web."

  "Here now! These inferences are unfair!" the Magistrate protested with insulted and self righteous indignation. "You have no right to malign the office of the Hawg City District Attorney!"

  "We speak of the office of the Magistrate as well," Percy retorted unmercifully.

  "By God!" the Magistrate swore as if appalled.

  "Come, come now. These false expressions of outrage fool no one. Our hearing is tomorrow. That is, the hearing on charges of assault--"

  "Non-consensual!" Horace interjected vehemently.

  "We split no hairs," the lion said. "We also will bring before the Magistrate the case of the incarcerated members of my entourage."

  "We do not permit the flaunting of our local ordinances," Horace threw out with a sort of desperate thorniness.

  "And the Seventh," the lion continued, brushing aside these observations, "will further address the implementation of archaic--possibly illegal--practices of corporal punishment, i.e., the Modifier, and will deliberate and decide upon the invocation of an injunction, by the Seventh, against its further use, to be fully debated and explicated at such further date as is convenient, after we have brought to an end our most important business at hand," the lion concluded with uncharacteristic litigiousness. The owl looked on with grudging admiration at this masterful display of legal rhetorical expertise.

  "And what, if I may ask, is the nature of this business at hand, which--presumably--is responsible for your unannounced visit?" the Magistrate inquired, raising the nodules over his eyes so that the several coarse, whiskery hairs protruded like strange and sensitive antennae. These objections to corporal punishment were predictable, and he was confident enough of the District Attorney's abilities in Warthog Court to be unconcerned about the likelihood of an overturned ruling by the Seventh. The greater designs of the lion and his party were another matter, however. These were unknown and of the highest interest.

  "We search for the boy," Percy said laconically.

  "Haarumph," The narrowed eyes and suddenly darkened countenance which accompanied this grunt, gave evidence that the owl was deeply disturbed at this turn in the conversation.

  The Magistrate and Horace exchanged glances laden with signification.

  "The lost boy," the District Attorney said in somewhat awed tones.

  "Lost to us," the lion corrected.

  "What is your meaning, Perceival Theodilious?" the Magistrate asked, his knotty forehead wrinkled with puzzled interest.

  "Well--" Percy began, but before he could speak the owl cut him off.

  "Haarumph! We mean, that the boy is not lost to himself, but only to us, i.e., he has left us. Haarumph!" For not wholly accountable reasons the owl was decidedly uncomfortable in revealing these details of their mission to the warthogs.

  "We little know him here," the District Attorney said thoughtfully, at the same time noting with interest the owl's reaction, "but if he were in these parts, we certainly would have recognized him. He hasn't come through here to my knowledge."

  "Grits Hamby will make inquiries," the Magistrate said. "He may know something."

  "Haarumph! Not necessary, thank you," the owl said proudly with a brief flutter of the wings. "The lost boy will most certainly be found--haarumph!"

  The Magistrate stared curiously up at the pair, ruminating on this unexpected development. Then he turned his snout slowly to Horace, saying with displeasure: "The extenuating circumstances would seem to support the executive order."

  Horace narrowed his eyes with shrewd cunning. "Indeed they would." He regarded the lion and the owl. "However, I must warn you that we shall demand not only an unabridged hearing of these cases, but a fullest explication of all of their ramifications. We shall consider time irrelative to the conclusion of the proceedings!"

  "Haarumph!" the owl grunted and said stuffily: "The Seventh will, of course, abide by all rules of due process; the case will be litigated in full! Haarumph!"

  31. Warthog Court

  Warthog Court, the Magistrate presiding, convened promptly the next morning at nine o'clock in a special session called by executive order of Perceival Theodilious Reinsgold the Eighth. Well before that hour Percy and Honorashious had arrived upon the scene, having risen early from a sound sleep enjoyed--over the strenuous objections of the scandalized grounds supervisor--upon the grassy area in the center of the pavilion.

  The Court Mound occupied substantial property in the exact center of the north side of the pavilion. It was flanked on one side by the Department of Attack and on the other by the Bureau of Taxes. Facing it across the pavilion was the Capitol burrow, home of the Hawg City legislature. Word of the events of the preceding day had spread with the rapidity of lightning throughout the city, and soon after dawn the pavilion had reached the limits of its occupancy, necessitating the implementation of crowd control measures. Routers were enlisted in this service; they were posted shoulder to shoulder across the trails leading into the city's center, and they denied access to all saving those with official Hawg City passes issued from the offices of the Magistrate.

  On the south side of the pavilion a respectable appearing boar; a correspondingly proper sow, undoubtedly this boar's wife; and a young sow, presumably a daughte
r, presented such a pass to a surly router, who stepped reluctantly aside and permitted them to enter. This family proceeded with difficulty along the now unusually crowded walkways of the pavilion towards the Court Mound.

  As they neared their destination the crowd became denser until finally a hundred yards or so short of the entrance to the mound it congealed into an almost impenetrable mass of warthog flesh.

  "For crying out loud," Bort Swinson moaned with exasperation. "How're we going to get through this crowd?"

  He peered ahead over the backs of the grunting, snorting crowd, most of whom belonged to that class of warthog without anything particular to do during the day when others were at work of some sort or the other. Up ahead on the portico, stony faced constabulary guarded the entrance to the Court Mound, which had long ago filled to capacity with spectators.

  Maud Swinson, our boar's good wife, looked at her husband with disgust. A substantial sow, still decent looking in her middle age, Maud evinced few of the characteristics of the diminutive housewife. Now, she grunted irritably to her husband, "Don't just stand there--push through!" and thrust her snout aggressively into the back of the boar standing in front of her.

  As the object of Maud Swinson's thrust felt the sharp tusk penetrate his hide he rocked to the side with a surprised squeal of alarm. "Hey, lady!" he shouted, glaring angrily at the sow, who pushed on by, oblivious to his protests. Bort followed in her wake, preceded by his daughter, Betsy.

  In this manner the family progressed a short distance further into the crowd, at which point the hostility aroused by Maud's aggressive method of passage became general, and they could go no further without the risk of serious bodily harm. They stood here for some time caught in the crowd like flies in amber, unable to move forward or back. Bort had just about given up in despair ever reaching the Court Mound at all, when suddenly the crowd became even more compacted than before. Turning to seek the occasion for this unwelcome development, he found that an official party was advancing through the crowd surrounded by a contingent of hostile, grunting constabulary who butted and gouged their way through the hogs.

  "Try and get over behind them," he wheezed to his wife. "Maybe we can get sucked in behind them."

  Fortunately for the three, the approaching official party appeared to be proceeding more or less directly towards them, for the crowd had become so compacted now that despite the most vigorous measures of Maud and Bort alike, further movement was impossible. The party advanced with the irresistible inertia of an ocean liner, propelled by the burly constabulary who parted the crowd, compressing the hogs impossibly, piling them up one upon the other in waves which then fell away to either side of its bow. In the calm middle, like royalty riding upon their bark, came Grits Hamby, Madame DeKooncey, and Captain Campbell. Following behind, a great bear rose above the heads of the warthogs, clearly visible even from a distance. As the party came nearer, the figures of Bartruff, Slag, and Squeegie became visible, as well as two surly but stoic armadillos and a nervous appearing squirrel. All of these wore interconnecting chains fastened to steel collars about their necks.

  The pressure within the crowd soon reached bone crushing force as the party grew nearer. Squeezed inexorably upwards between her mother and father, the daughter climbed upon her father's back and clung there. Unable to move in any direction whatsoever, and shielding his wife behind him, Bort absorbed the full force of the butts and gouges of the constabulary. Helplessly, our boar was squeezed aside and dragged along one flank of the party, where the pressure became so great that he could breath only in small gasps. Finally the party had passed, leaving in its wake a sort of vacuum into which our boar and his family were sucked fortuitously. Taking advantage of this sheltered position, they pressed as closely to the rear of the party as was possible without being gouged and butted by the backwards facing constabulary.

  In this manner our family was enabled to approach the Court Mound. As the official party and their prisoners went up the steps and entered, the constabulary contingent peeled off to either side, joining the others already positioned on the portico to keep back the crowd. Suddenly, the Swinson family found themselves facing a single warthog who blocked the entrance.

  "Get back," this hog grunted with hostility. Overheated, and beset with the anxieties of facing so great a crowd, the boar's tongue lolled from a half-opened panting mouth. "Get back away from the entrance."

  Bort produced the pass that he had obtained the evening before. The guard took it and examined it skeptically, noting with interest the signature of the Magistrate himself as well as our boar's name.

  "Family of the accused?" he said, looking up with curiosity at the three warthogs. Bort nodded. The guard looked again at the pass and continued to study it as he stepped aside and motioned them in. "Straight back and to the right. You ain't likely to get any seats--standing room only--nothing special for the family."

  The Swinson family entered the great Court Mound and headed on back through a wide, busy hallway. Near the end, they turned to the right and squeezed into the crowded courtroom.

  The room was filled to capacity. Warthogs sat in orderly rows on piled straw, either conversing cheerfully among themselves or with heads bent close together in serious and somber discussion with their neighbor and glancing from time to time to the front of the room at the goings on there. Additionally, around the sides of the cavernous room, hogs lined the walls, standing in order to keep the aisles clear for those entering or leaving. A balcony extended across the back wall and ran halfway up either side of the room as well. Like the rest of the room, the balcony was filled to capacity with grunting warthogs, and those on the front row leaned forward eagerly, as if to gain a better view, their hooves hanging limply over the railing. Some, catching sight of acquaintances below, would carry on with them, by means of shouting, conversation of a generally trivial or even low comedic nature.

  At the head of the room was the seat of the judge--or, in this case, the Magistrate--the witness stand, and various desks and tables for recorders and other courtroom officiary. The broad back and thickly hided neck and head of Grits Hamby could be recognized seated at one of the tables. Captain Campbell was standing beside him, leaning over with his snout held close to a pointed ear into which he was saying something. Madame DeKooncey stood to the side, behind the recorder. The prisoners had been brought in and made up a formless group in the open area below the Magistrate. Moving energetically among them, the bailiff went about expertly removing their chains, then herded them to one side, where they sat down upon some piles of straw.

  At precisely nine o'clock, the bailiff, shouting in a hoarse voice to be heard over the grunting and snorting and general discombobulation of the crowd, announced:

  "Order in the court!"

  Whereupon, the Magistrate entered through a side door at the front of the room and strode deliberately to the podium without looking at the audience. He took his seat and with a hoof banged authoritatively on the desk. At the same time he solemnly intoned:

  "A special emergency session of Warthog Court is hereby convened, upon the executive order of Perceival Theodilious Reinsgold the Eighth."

  The Magistrate scanned the filled courtroom with an expression of grave and somber seriousness. All of the warthogs were standing now. A silence had fallen over the crowd save for some slight rustlings of hooves shuffling in the straw. Then, in the next instant the bailiff barked:

  "Perceival Theodilious Reinsgold the Eighth!"

  And that so-named individual strode into the courtroom, sweeping the crowd and the Magistrate with an arrogant glance. He took his seat, which had been specially placed to the right of the Magistrate, but forward a bit, in recognition of his dual status as plaintiff and monarch.

  "The Seventh Juridical!" the bailiff shouted next, and Honorashious T. Hardwood came into the room and hobbled with the most severe and dignified bearing over to a perch which had been erected beside Percy. He hopped up with a grunt, settled his wings, and gave a
shake to each of his massive claws. The Sergeant Major, pre-positioned at the side of the great horned owl's perch, stood rigidly at attention, reflecting in his mien what he felt was the proper degree of somberness for the occasion, and directed a fierce glare at the warthog audience.

  The Magistrate surveyed these arrangements with a sternly critical look; then, satisfied, punctuating his words with another sharp bang of his hoof, he intoned solemnly:

  "Warthog Court is hereby convened."

  32. The Case of the Warthogs

  The courtroom was silently attentive as the principals took their seats and the Magistrate began to read the charges in the case of the adolescent warthogs. The defendants were made to stand while the charges were read. Once these were finished all were allowed to sit and the Magistrate turned to Percy.

  "Most honorable Perceival Theodilious," he said, "please to inform the court of those events transpiring in the savannah yesterday, which occasioned the bringing of these charges."

  Percy frowned and looked over severely at the prisoners; before he could respond, however, Horace Peacot, who was seated beside Grits Hamby, came to his hooves and addressed the Magistrate in strident tones:

  "Your honor," he said, narrowing his eyes sharply at the lion and the owl, "in the interest of saving valuable time--not to mention the taxpayers' good money--I submit to the court that the charges which you have just read, namely, those of non-consensual assault, are non-existent and should be dropped immediately." A rumble of surprised snorts and grunts arose from the audience. "Further, that the defendants should be let go, and they and their families afforded just compensation for their illegal incarceration."

  These words elicited from the audience an immediate murmur of approval, punctuated by a few hoots, to which the Magistrate responded with a sharp rap of the hoof and a severe gaze of disapproval.