Boss Hog dumped us in the center of the circle and looked at us questioningly. “Is Snortimer right about you?” he asked.
“No,” I said, “we have a council! We were tried and banished today.” I cringed as soon as I said it.
There was a long silence as a dozen suspicious faces studied us. Stony took the opportunity to smile idiotically at them.
Snortimer’s green piggish eyes bore into mine. “He lies!” he suddenly announced, jumping up and pointing at me. “He’s a little spy.”
I glared at him. I would have been okay with spy, but little spy hurt.
“You here to steal the Shiny Stone?” he demanded.
I shook my head. “Of course not.”
“Then why are you spying on us before the Big Game?”
“I don’t care about the Big Game!” I snapped.
A great raucous laughter went up around the circle. The Big Man guffawed uncontrollably, his jowls and belly jiggling in unison. Even Snortimer smiled.
“And I don’t want to be a part of any big stupid clan,” I blurted out. “I just want to be left alone.”
Boss Hog turned to the council, wiping away the tears of laughter. “What do you think I should do with these silly spies?” he asked.
“Give them up,” said Snortimer. “To Big Mumma.” There was no mirth in his voice now.
But what scared me even more was the look on Boss Hog’s face. He was the biggest, toughest man I had ever seen, and even he looked appalled. He began to waddle toward us, but Snortimer got to him first.
“If you back down, boss, you’ll look weak,” I heard Snortimer whisper to him. “And no one wants a weak Big Man, right?”
Boss Hog nodded sheepishly and stepped back.
The Boar Rider councilmen led Stony and me back toward their village’s central clearing, where a buzzing crowd was starting to gather. Not far from the Shiny Stone, the girl with the big green eyes watched us, now fidgeting anxiously with a curl of red hair. Snortimer stood with us in the clearing, facing a cave entrance blocked by a massive granite boulder and two huge men guarding it.
“Want to see what we keep in there?” he shouted for all to hear.
We shook our heads.
“Then admit you’re spies!”
“But we’re—”
“Say it!”
“What?”
“You’re spies!”
“You’re spies,” I said.
There were titters from the crowd.
Snortimer’s face flushed. “Oinker! Newporker!” he barked at the guards. “Release Big Mumma!”
The nervous laughter suddenly turned into shocked gasps.
Snortimer grinned, then nodded to Oinker and Newporker. The men leaned their shoulders into the big round boulder and grunted. The boulder began to roll, inch by inch, gradually revealing the entrance to a dark cavern behind it. There was a hushed silence.
Little by little, a great hairy boar snout emerged from the darkness. It was longer than my arm and had cavernous moist pink nostrils the width of Stony’s fists. The snout took a cautious, almost delicate, sniff of the air. First in one direction, then another, gingerly sampling what the breeze had to offer. Seeming to catch a whiff of something interesting, the great snout turned toward us.
I shuddered. Stony shuddered. Even Froggy, on Stony’s shoulder, shuddered. We had never seen a snout of this magnitude, and we didn’t want to meet its owner.
“Big Mumma’s hungry,” said Snortimer, backing away from us toward the crowd. “Big Mumma loves new treats.”
Suddenly, a stupendous sow—all muscle and bristle—charged out of the cave.
“Run, Stony!” I screamed, and promptly followed my own advice.
Glancing back, I saw that the low-browed boy had just stood there, holding Froggy protectively to his chest.
When the monstrous sow had nearly reached him, Stony closed his eyes and gave the frog a lick. This must have surprised Big Mumma as much as everyone else, because she came to a sudden halt—her wide wet snout a hairbreadth from Stony’s face. The crowd murmured nervously as she proceeded to sniff the boy and frog. It seemed that only Stony’s tight grip prevented the accidental inhalation of his beloved. Then the sow’s mouth opened and a huge pink tongue emerged. The crowd gasped. She gave Stony and Froggy a lick.
The boy beamed. The frog looked astonished. Big Mumma’s monstrous expression melted into simple delight. She batted her eyelashes at Froggy. Stony reached out and scratched the sow under her snout.
I noticed that Snortimer’s eyes were slits of fury. Everyone began to chatter animatedly.
Then Snortimer held up a hand for silence. “Boar Riders!” he boomed. “Boar Riders—I know the spies’ secret plan!”
The crowd grunted questioningly.
“Llama’s Boys,” he said, pointing helpfully at us, “plan to bring frogs to the Big Game!”
The crowd grunted louder, though still questioningly.
“To make our beasts all nice-nice, of course!” he snarled, pointing at Big Mumma, who was now nuzzling Froggy.
Most of the Boar Riders appeared impressed with Snortimer’s theory—some utterly dazzled. Everyone looked to see what Boss Hog thought, but he looked clueless.
“We’ll crush them, right, Dad?” shouted an eager voice from the throng. It belonged to a huge scowling boy who looked a lot like Boss Hog and sported a necklace made of pig vertebrae around his thick neck.
“Not now, Baconbits,” grunted Boss Hog.
Baconbits turned his impressive scowl onto Stony and me and thunked a massive fist into the palm of his hand.
“Almost makes me miss Bonehead,” I whispered.
Stony’s unibrow perked up at this, and his eyes scanned the nearby trees.
“Bonehead and Bugeyes are the least of our problems now,” I murmured.
ONCE THE CROWD had dispersed, Snortimer unceremoniously stuffed us inside a tiny dark cave and blocked off the entrance with a boulder. The space was so tiny and dark that it was less a cave and more a vertical tomb. There wasn’t enough room to do anything but stand there and involuntarily cuddle. Even Froggy—normally an enthusiastic cuddler—croaked about the appalling lack of personal space.
Stony remained silent, but I could hear both our stomachs rumbling with hunger.
“Any ideas?” I finally whispered.
“Ehhh?” grunted Stony.
“Ideas?” I said more loudly.
“Ideas … deas,” came the echo.
“Wait a minute,” I said, struggling to reach up into the darkness above me. “I can’t feel a ceiling.”
“Ceiling … eiling.”
Stony tried jumping up.
“Ow!” I said, removing his palm from my face.
He lifted me and pushed me up along the wall and onto his shoulders. I could feel the slimy circular sidewalls around me, but still no ceiling. We were like two mice stuck at the bottom of a snake hole.
By the time I managed to wriggle back down into the tight space between the wall and Stony’s belly, he was snoring. I just stood there, impressed by his animal-like ability to snooze standing up. I tried closing my eyes, but it felt strange to sleep in a cave that wasn’t my family’s. Normally, I’d be able to hear my father’s even louder snoring now. I found myself wondering what my parents were doing. This somehow made me feel a little better and much sadder at the same time. I realized that the dull empty ache in the pit of my stomach was not only hunger but also dread that I might never see my family again.
I awoke suddenly—slumped and cramped—in total darkness.
“Croak, croak” went Froggy, next to my ear.
“Croak, croak” came back the echo.
“Croak, ribbit” went Froggy.
“Croak, ribbit” came back the echo.
“Croak, ribbit, ribbit, croak” went Froggy.
“Ribbit, croak, croak, ribbit” came back the echo.
“Stony,” I whispered, “did you hear that?”
; His response was a snore in my other ear.
I nudged him. “Wake up.”
He grunted groggily.
“I think there’s something in here!” I whispered. “Something froglike, but bigger.”
“Don’t you have any manners?” a girl’s voice asked primly from above.
Startled, I elbowed Stony in the belly, causing him to grunt louder as he awoke.
“I guess not,” said the voice. “Well, then, I suppose there will be no need to rescue you.”
There was a brief silence as Stony and I contemplated this in the dark. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me,” I said, “who are you?”
“Echo.”
“Very funny,” I muttered.
“That is my name. And it’s not stupid.”
“Who said it was?”
“I can tell you thought it was from your tone.”
She was right—I had thought that.
“Excuse me, Echo,” I said, “but did you say something about rescuing us?”
“Yes?” she said, as if waiting for something more.
“Well, feel free!”
“Don’t you have something you’d like to say first?”
“Ummmm … no,” I said. “Ow!” I could feel Stony’s elbow in my chest and his expectant stare in the dark. “Fine,” I muttered, surprised at Stony’s reaction. “I’m sorry I made fun of your name.”
“And?” said the voice.
“And? … I’m sorry I called you froglike?”
There was a long silence.
“All right,” she said, “I’ll rescue you. But mainly because your frog sounds nice.”
A few moments later, I heard scrabbling sounds and a shower of pebbles hitting a hard surface nearby. This turned out to be Stony’s head. Then I felt something tickle my neck. I reached around and grabbed … a vine!
“Go ahead and pull yourself up,” said Echo.
I started doing just that, but she cleared her throat and added: “In order of politeness, please.”
“Politeness?”
“That means your friends first. I found you to be least polite.”
I sighed and felt around in the dark for Stony’s hands. “You’re going to need both of these,” I said, sticking Froggy in his mouth.
After a bit of huffing and puffing, the low-browed boy began to shinny up the vine using the circular wall around him for footing. Soon I heard the girl say, “And where is your frog, sir?”
I tried not to laugh, but when I heard the girl give an astonished squeal, I couldn’t stop myself. That’s when I felt the vine jerk out of my hands.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she called down.
“Um … no, no, not at all.”
There was another silence.
“Sorry,” I said. “Can I come up now?”
The reply came in the form of the vine whacking me on the head.
“Ow.”
The first thing I saw as I squeezed up and out of the cave tube were silhouettes of the girl and Stony, standing in a large upper chamber. My eyes adjusted to the light and I saw that she was the red-haired girl who had stood behind the Shiny Stone—the only Boar Rider who hadn’t taunted us.
“Thanks,” I said, dropping the vine, which was cleverly tied to a stalagmite. “I’m Lug.”
“Echo,” she repeated, her bright green eyes daring me to challenge her.
“Crooooooak!” came a call from somewhere within the girl’s tangle of red curls. She reached up and petted Froggy, who was peeking out of her hair. He looked very self-satisfied.
I rubbed my arms in the morning air. We had climbed out of the cave’s upper chamber onto a high outcropping above the Boar Riders’ village. Looking out over the jungle canopy, I saw that the banyan trees had also suffered from the cooling weather over the past few months. They hadn’t lost all their leaves like the gourd trees, but their top branches were bare, pointing like gnarled accusing fingers at the milky sky. In the distance, Mount Bigbigbig rose like a great rocky island out of a green and brown sea of jungle, looking eerie as ever. My sister had once told me that the restless ghosts of banished boys wandered its slope, looking for any living clan folk who strayed too close. I normally ignored everything my sister said, but somehow that had stuck with me.
The Boar Riders’ public clearing lay below—empty except for the Shiny Stone glimmering slightly in the dawn light. A cacophony of snoring and gassy sounds came from the caves around us.
“We’d better go,” whispered Echo, “before someone wakes up and sees us.”
We followed her down the other side of the outcropping and into the forest, in the direction of the mountain. The canopy was full of buzzing and birdsong, and by the time we came to a burbling creek, I had relaxed a little. I took a drink from the stream and thought about ways I might paint flowing water. But Stony’s wary expression reminded me that Bonehead and Bugeyes were probably still skulking around, hunting us. Bonehead’s words to Bugeyes came back to me, as clear as the burbling creek: “If us kill Little Slug, us back in clan.”
We followed the creek downstream, clambering over the slippery tree roots along the water’s edge and keeping an eye out for water snakes. Eventually, we came to what seemed like an extremely wide boar trail. Echo led us up the trail, away from the creek, and I told her the story of how Stony and I had been banished. Several times I stopped talking, thinking I’d heard something moving in the foliage, but I decided it was just the wind rustling the leaves. Finally, we reached a towering pile of boulders not far from the base of the mountain. Echo climbed up the stones and slowly scanned the forest below, trying to make sure that no one had followed us.
When we reached the top, she pointed down the other side of the boulder pile toward a large, dark cavern entrance. “Okay,” she said. “Follow me.”
“I’m not going in there,” I said.
She turned her head slowly toward me.
“I—I just mean I’ve had enough caves for one day.”
She sighed and started climbing down the boulder pile, with Stony just behind her.
I muttered darkly to myself and followed.
At the mouth of the cavern, Stony began to sniff the air.
“Ready?” said Echo.
“Ready for what?” I asked.
She took a step into the cave and called out, “Woolly?”
“Woolly … oolly,” came back the echo.
“Come out!”
“Come out … out.”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and disappeared into the cave. “Woolly can be a little shy.”
“I think this girl’s a little woolly in the head!” I whispered to Stony.
He shook his head and sniffed the air vigorously.
“We need to stop wasting time,” I insisted, “and figure out a way back into our clan. If we catch a couple of big llamas, I think they’d let us back in. We could see our families. The Big Game is in two days, and they’re not going to turn down any player with a good animal.”
Stony’s unibrow began to squirm like a caught eel.
“Yeah,” I said, “it’s going to be hard, but—”
Stony shook his head frantically and pointed ahead. I stumbled backward. The massive creature lumbering out of the cave was unlike anything I’d ever seen. The beast had a trunk like a macrauchenia, but this was no little dangly thing. It reached all the way to the ground and swung ponderously, like another great limb. On either side of the trunk was a sharp white tusk. And above those were two enormous brown eyes that peered down suspiciously at us from beneath a mop of shaggy hair. The animal had a body like a boulder, a broad sloping back, and a high-domed head with wide flapping ears. He was covered from head to toe in long woolly shags of reddish-brown hair that hung down around his four tree trunk–like legs.
“Don’t make any sudden moves,” warned Echo, stepping out of the cave. “He doesn’t trust strangers.”
Stony and I stood perfectly still. “What is he?” I whispered, watching
the long hairy trunk sniff inches away from my face. “Some kind of monster macrauchenia?”
“He’s a woolly mammoth,” said Echo. “A little one.”
“A LITTLE ONE?” I croaked.
“Yeah,” said Echo. “He’s very young.”
“Okay … but … how come we’ve never seen one before?”
“Because he’s not from around here. I stumbled onto him when I was exploring the jungle. My clan doesn’t know about him, and all I know so far is that something terrible happened and he got separated from his herd.”
“Because of the cold?”
Echo looked confused. “What?”
“Never mind,” I said. “How did you learn all this?”
“You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Figured what out?”
“I can talk to animals,” she said.
I studied her face, trying to determine if she was completely crazy or, as my mother liked to say, just had a few stones loose.
“So can you,” she added. “I think.”
I glanced sidelong at Stony, but he was just standing there, stroking Froggy contentedly.
“I think anyone could do it if they paid enough attention,” the girl continued. “Of course, only some animals will talk back.”
“Look, we really appreciate you rescuing us and everything,” I said, backing away, “but maybe we should just say good-bye here.”
“Good-bye? I brought you here so that we could take Woolly back to your clan.”
“What? What would he do there?”
She gave me a long, knowing look. “Oh, come on!” she finally said. “Everyone knows that you Macrauchenia Riders live in the same caves as your llamas. My clan says it’s primitive and dirty, but I think it’s much kinder to the animals. Honestly, I don’t care if you have no laws or councils. As long you treat your animals better than my clan does, Woolly will be happier there.”
“Are you kidding me?” I said. “My clan is just like yours.”
Echo looked at Woolly, appalled.
“If we brought this beast to my village,” I continued, “they’d … stone him!”
She burst into tears.
Lug, Dawn of the Ice Age Page 3
