Many hours later their escort left them in the near total darkness of the savannah. Turning abruptly to the Sergeant Major, their leader said:
"From here on out you're on your own. The way is plainly marked and easily found by day."
The Sergeant Major, startled at the suddenness with which the warthog had shattered the silence, peered into the distance and the surrounding dark. "They ain't much to go on," he objected uneasily. Then he looked down at the muck, which still was much in evidence. "And they ain't no place to lay down neither." As the sparrow's mind began to revolve these items of information his blood began to warm. "We ain't wanting to get lost," he said with growing resentment. "We got to find that boy. What'f we get turned around in a circle?" The sparrow glared at the warthog with indignation. "Ye dad blasted hogs! We ain't got a star in the sky to go by, ye blamed varmint!"
And it was true; due to the thin covering of yellow haze emitted from the wasteland, the sky was starless. Nevertheless, in silence, the Routers disengaged and formed up in their rear as if oblivious to the bird's emotional outburst. The others of our party watched the scene play out. Honorashious, having noted the halting of the group, descended too, and perched upon Jupe's back.
The non-commissioned officer in charge turned to the sparrow, saying dispassionately:
"We part here, Sergeant Major. Further on the Razorbacks erupt into the night. We know but little--nor care know more--of your complex ends beyond. Our duty's done."
Then, without further to do, the hog turned his back and with his Routers vanished in the blackness.
The severe state of shock and anger into which the insolence of these last, metered remarks had thrust the sparrow is indescribable. In the next instant the night had absorbed the escort so completely and with so strong an air of finality that the belated exclamation then rising in his throat was stifled and sank without issue.
"Haarumph," the owl grunted. "It seems that you have come to rely upon these warthogs, Sergeant Major. We never--haarumph--needed them before. Why now? No, it's up to us. We must find our way ourselves and be happy to be done with them. Haarumph! Rather than help, they hinder our progress."
"It will soon be light," Egbert said. "Our only obstacle to finding the Hollowed Tree has been removed."
The squirrel's remarks especially irked the Sergeant Major, and could he have separated them from those of the owl, he would have chastised Egbert in the harshest of tones. The events in Hawg City were not so soon to be forgotten. As it was, however, in deference to the owl he swallowed his retort and only muttered disconsolately: "Well, I just hope we don't get turned around and wind up back in Hawg City, Judge."
Everyone turned about and made ready to get underway. But before anyone could take his first step, a stentorian voice halted the group in their tracks.
"Wait."
The great shape of the bear moved forward slowly in the darkness, eyeing with a solemn, accusatory expression each of the lion, the owl, and even the Sergeant Major. Unfortunately, the effect of this carefully presented expression was lost in the darkness. When the bear reached the head of the party, he turned to face them.
"Before we go any further," he said solemnly, "we need to get something straight. There is absolutely no sense in me dragging along in the tail end of this formation, while others smaller, and less well suited, take the lead." Honorashious grunted and pricked up his tufts with interest. Percy too listened to the bear with the utmost curiosity. "Either I'm going to lead, or I'll just turn around and--Hawg City or no, they already done as much to me as they're likely to--I'll go back the way we come and forget the whole thing."
"Haarumph! What's this?" the owl cried incredulously.
The bear paused to allow these words to sink in. "That's right, Judge. There seems to be an elite here. And I, along with Jupe and Agamemnon and Egbert, am most definitely not one of the chosen few."
"Hah!" the lion chortled. "This preposterous bear possesses a depth of sensitivity as yet to be plumbed!"
"Now that's exactly the kind of sarcastic response I would expect out of the elite--no matter; it's perfectly in character. But I will submit to you that an apology is owed them who did time in the Hawg City jail, and went under the Modifier--" The bear waved an admonitory finger in the air and peered into the faces of each in turn, "--and, furthermore, that honors are due them for their sacrifice."
At that moment the darkness had just begun to lift, imperceptibly, and in the grayness Percy and the owl exchanged glances of bemusement.
"Haarumph," grunted the owl and, somewhat dangerously on his precarious perch, shook his claws.
"Bear," the lion said tolerantly, "your many talents are highly valued, and if you hadn't sulked so in Hawg City--the middle of a hog route is hardly the place to mend offended sensibilities--you should be in the lead as of now. Your sacrifice is noted and admired by all--as is that of the brave armadillos and the squirrel--and we will afford just tokens of our recognition at a later, more appropriate time, when a suitable audience can be assembled."
"I don't need tokens, nor any audience, Lion."
"Well, your counsel is needed, brave bear. We can not succeed without you. Take the lead. Please."
It had not escaped the bear's notice that these assurances did not address the failure to prevent the unjust punishments in the first place. When the opportunity was there, the lion and the owl had allowed events to take their course with little concern for the fate of those affected. There was no accounting now for the suffering they had endured.
Fortunately for the party, it was not in the bear's naturally forgiving and selfless nature to demand the pound of flesh. His resentment had already been significantly mollified by these remarks of the lion.
"Haarumph!" Honorashious grunted. "In the heat of the moment, and because of the urgency of our goal, we have unforgivably slighted our comrades. We rely so completely on the bear's--haarumph--good counsel and intentions, on his propensity for--haarumph--haarumph--unselfish service, that we take him for granted and forget to give him credit." The owl turned to the Sergeant Major and said ostentatiously: "Sergeant Major! On our return you will submit a full citation of the heroic actions in Hawg City, and will make appropriate recommendations for awards! Haarumph!"
The Sergeant Major snapped to attention and saluted.
"Aye Jedge!" he shouted, fairly beaming with approval.
Boston accepted these ovations without comment. Inadequate though they were, he was happy to have obtained some restitution at least, and now he turned the full attention of his anxious mind once again to accomplishing the task at hand.
39. The Search Resumes
Our party continued on their way, Boston taking the lead once again, and in spite of the Sergeant Major's fears the sun had not risen so very far in the sky by the time they successfully reached the edge of the savannah and the foot of the Razorback Mountains. Here, finally dry again, our party halted and fell to the ground in some soft green grass, stretching their limbs and luxuriating in blessed relief from the noxious smells and muck of Hawg City and the polluted savannah. Jupe broke out their provisions, and they all had a light breakfast. Having finished that, our group lay down to take a brief nap prior to getting underway in earnest.
Some hours later the Sergeant Major awoke and squawked in alarm. The sun had traveled well past its zenith. He sat up and looked around him at the slumbering party scattered about in the warm grass: save for a slight rise and fall of the bear's great chest, they could have all been dead. Vigorously, the bird shook the sleep from his head and ruffled his feathers. Then, muttering to himself, he rose and stalked over to the pack which lay on the ground where Jupe had dropped it earlier. He inspected the contents strewn out on the ground and grunted with disapproval. Next he turned and examined the mountain looming above them.
"It ain't much longer 'afore I'm going to wake 'em up!" he said in a threatening tone. "Them mountains ain't going nowhere quick."
But despite his anxiou
sness the sparrow let them sleep, occupying himself with the re-packing of the provisions, gathering and packing away their feather swords, and then reconnoitering the area for the most auspicious appearing path to begin their climb through the Razorbacks.
Some time later the rest of them awoke, Honorashious first, then one by one the others, roused by the sounds. The bear was last, sitting up and screwing his great fists into his eyes. He looked sleepily around the area and then at the sun. He wore the worry-free, comfortable expression of the well rested, and his mind as yet still revolved with fond dreams of a romp with Matilda and his cubs about a high quality honey tree near his home. As he watched the others meandering unhurriedly about in the grass engaged in various activities preparatory to getting started, his mind returned slowly to the business at hand. His expression reflected the changing tenor of his state of mind. First, he grew serious as he observed the Sergeant Major loading Jupe; then, turning to Honorashious and Percy arguing, he narrowed his eyes sharply; finally, when he craned his head back and studied the Mountain rising massively into the sky above them, his forehead creased terribly and his face assumed its customary, fretful cast. Boston rolled over on all fours and stood up.
"Precisely," Egbert said pedantically as the bear came up to where he was talking with Percy and Honorashious. "The straightest path is generally not the best. I have been through these mountains many times, though never exactly by this route before."
"Haarumph," grunted the owl contentiously. "Haarumph--I doubt you've crossed them more often than I, Egbert--haarumph--on my regular patrols! Haarumph!"
"Yes, your honor, but at ground level--that is the key! At altitude you are unable to appreciate the condition of the terrain. No, the straight path is not the way. We must take the other."
"Haarumph!" the owl grunted with displeasure.
Boston had come up and sat down on his haunches. The squirrel's argumentative tone irked him. He frowned.
"And just how much longer is the other way?" he said querulously. "We don't have time to be fooling around with some soft way up the mountain--not after hooking up with those warthogs for the last two days."
"No more than half a day," the squirrel said.
"Too much," the bear said, shaking his head. "We won't make the top by nightfall."
"But it's the heavier of you who will regret it, not I," the squirrel protested defensively.
"Never mind about that. We'll take our chances. I say we go straight up it in the most direct and straightforward manner, and we'll make the top by nightfall," said the bear. "In the morning we can go down and be halfway to the Hollowed tree before the sun goes down."
"Haarumph! A most astute calculation, Boston."
Percy agreed.
"Before we get started," the bear began in his customary oratorical tones. He backed up a few steps from the group and rose to his full height the better to address them all. "Now that we are past Hawg City there is no real obstacle that should cause us undue delay in reaching the Hollowed Tree, and, hopefully, in finding the boy. On the goings on in Hawg City--we all know what happened, all of the trouble and the worry and the anxiety, and the unrewarded sacrifices some made and others benefited from--on these goings on and the injustices done and suffered and accounted for, we aren't going to belabor anymore. They're over and done with, and we won't be asking for any official action by the court--"
"Haarumph!" grunted the owl in surprise. "Court action indeed!" He turned to the lion, saying with a chuckle, "We haven't heard the last of this it seems."
"--at least not until this present undertaking is concluded."
"Haarumph!" the owl grunted and the wry grin turned into a scowl.
"Right now our only objective and concern is to get over the Razorbacks and down the other side and through the jungle as quick as we can and find the Hollowed Tree. I believe the Judge and Egbert have a good chart, from which we will be able to find our way without undue difficulty." The bear paused and looked at each of them in turn. Then he turned and faced the mountain. "Onward and upward--to find the Hollowed Tree!"
He had uttered these last words on a rising note, ending nearly in a shout; but the spirit of bravado was not as strong as that which they had felt on leaving Hardwood Haven two days earlier, and the party's "hurrah!" fell, undeniably, flat.
Some eight hours later that night, a scene of carnage met the eye on the top of the mountain. An exhausted armadillo plodded wearily along a stony path and, reaching the top, fell to the ground in a heap. A moment later a second armadillo arrived in similar fashion. An enormous great horned owl stood upon an outcropping and observed. Next there came a tired and sore footed squirrel. In much better shape than the armadillos, however; the squirrel came up and sat beside the owl. Some time later a lion arrived, collapsing after the manner of the others into an exhausted pile of bones in a sack of yellow fur.
"Haarumph! At this rate our progress is uncertain," the owl grumbled. "Where is the bear?"
This question, offered up generally to the collection of corpses scattered about the stony mountain top, went unanswered. The owl turned to the squirrel, who lay now as lifeless as the others at the foot of the boulder.
"Haarumph! Egbert! Haarumph!" the owl grunted and hopped to the ground. By means of the not so gentle application of a massive claw, the squirrel was aroused. "Boston still hasn't got here."
"I lost him half way up," the squirrel mumbled sleepily and immediately passed out again.
"Haarumph. We won't--haarumph--make it to the jungle tomorrow, if the bear doesn't get here soon," muttered the owl. "I had better--haarumph--turn to and find him! Haarumph!" With a flap of the wings he rose into the air and began a slow, spiraling descent of the mountain, searching in the darkness for the shape of the bear. A third of the way down he found him sprawled on his back, his limbs extended to the four corners of an imaginary square, as if observing the heavens. The owl alighted and hobbled over to his unmoving form.
"Haarumph. Boston--haarumph."
The bear was still. After much grunting and several applications of the massive claws the great furry form stirred, the eyelids lifted. Sitting up, he looked around him.
"Haarumph! You are still hours shy of the mountain top, bear. Haarumph! On your feet, laggard! We've no time to waste! Haarumph!"
The bear regarded the owl with a look of hurt bewilderment. He lifted a paw, exhibiting a bloody pad.
"Thorn broke off in my paw, Judge," the bear said mournfully. The others had left him, not by design, but in the strain of the climb each becoming so engaged in their own personal test of survival, absorbed so totally in their own physical struggle, that they had lost track each of the other and become separated. In their preoccupation with themselves, none had suspected the bear's plight.
The owl examined the site of the injury with his keen night vision. Using his great beak, he plucked a large piece of thorn from the bloody pad.
"Haarumph! There's some of it," he said, holding it aloft with satisfaction. "The rest has sunk too deep to extract. You'll just have to--haarumph--suffer through! Haarumph!"
The bear licked his sore paw and looked at it with regret, but dutifully rolled over and came to his feet.
"Haarumph--we await you on the mountain top, bear," the owl said, adopting a somewhat formal tone. "Haarumph. The way is clearly marked. Keep a--haarumph--steady pace and you will be there not long after midnight, with enough time still left to get in a good night's sleep. Haarumph!"
The bear had already begun, slightly limping, to climb the path. "I'll be there, Judge," he said with resolution, and the owl took off, leaving him on his own to reach the top.
The bear accomplished the remainder of his ascension without incident. The sore paw, thanks to the owl, became only a small nuisance now, and he would have forgotten it altogether save for the painful reminder from time to time of the shard still buried there.
Earlier, he had lain awake on his back for some time there on the side of the mountain, so
exhausted that the concerns and worries which usually plagued his brain were forgotten. His head was finally empty. In this unusual state of mind images and incidents rose one after the other from his subconscious into consciousness, where he examined them in isolation like the artifacts of some ancient civilization. Hawg City, Grits Hamby and the Magistrate, the owl and the lion, images and scenes from the last several days rose and passed in review before the bear, who critically took their measure. And beyond that, his entire past and position in the jungle, the Hollowed Tree and the lost boy, they all had fallen beneath his cold objectivity before he finally lost consciousness and fell asleep. On waking, after the owl had left him on the path alone with his thoughts, he felt strangely free and detached, the incidents of Hawg City clearly in their place, his resentment of the lion and the owl of little importance to him now. It seemed that his spirits rose higher than they had ever been before. It was as if the bear were only now, for the first time in his life, seeing things as they truly were.
With the strain of the ascension, however, these high spirits soon began to fall. Physical exertion wore him down. The exhilarating sense of freedom he had experienced at first, suspect all along, began now to appear false. A diametrically opposed, suffocating sense of confinement seized his brain. He concentrated on the climb but the prospect of its end gave him little comfort. He felt that he would never reach the mountain top, and its winning seemed of little worth.
The Hollowed Tree Page 25
