Dusty Star Part 7

Yet in spite of everything looking so thousands-of-years-the-same, something very important _was_ happening, after which Carboona would be never quite the same.

_There were strangers walking in the wind!_

If Baltook did not scent them, that was no fault of his nose. If you sit very high up you cannot expect your nose to tell you what is happening very far down. It is along the level of the runways that the nose does its business; and Baltook's nose forgot to be very busy, even where he sat.

Down, down, down, through the vast forests of spruce and fir, with here and there a sycamore, or some huge hemlock that seemed to have hugged five hundred winters to its old black heart, the strange folk came journeying on scarcely-sounding feet. The forest was so thick, and the ground so springy with fir-needles, that Baltook's eyes and ears gave him no more warning than his nose. Yet a vague murmur of softly-padding feet was audible,--to ears near enough to catch it--the ears of the little peoples that live close along the ground.

At the doorways of little underground dwellings between the twisted fir-roots, small furry bodies, with long tails, and eyes like sparkles of black dew, crouched quivering with expectancy, as the murmuring sound went by. To them, it was like the boom of walking thunder, far away, but drawing nearer. And the tiny eyes brightened, and the tiny whiskers twitched as two enormous shapes went glimmering past their doors. And for a long, long time afterwards, the little under-root dwellings were stuffy with uneasy people who comforted themselves together in the good grey gloom.

Immediately below the spot where Baltook sat, the lowest fringe of forest ended in a dried stream-course, filled with boulders. From a spring on the nearer bank, a narrow thread of water trickled into a pool. Above the spring the ground was rocky and clear of trees; and between the rocks the gra.s.s was short and fine, showing that deer and rabbits found it good grazing ground. (Baltook could have told you all about the rabbits, but he did not dare to meddle with the deer.) Within this open s.p.a.ce, as the silver fox looked dreamily down, there appeared, to his utter amazement, two unexpected shapes.

The one, though unexpected, was not altogether strange, being that of a large timber wolf; and in his life on Carboona, Baltook knew all about wolves. But the other shape was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected--that of a human being.

To say that Baltook sat up on seeing this unusual sight would not give the right impression, for the single reason that Baltook was already sitting up. But if you were to say that inside his springy body every sense he had sat up so violently that he almost jumped, you would be very nearly correct.

These astonishing visitors being so very far down in the world below him did not make much difference to Baltook's cunning sight. But it did make a difference to his nose. Before he could make up his mind about them fully, he must get them put into _smell_; so when, presently the strangers disappeared from view, Baltook got up softly and melted down the hill.

That evening a great news began to travel in Carboona. Newcomers had arrived. There was a strange wolf of enormous size: there was a human creature, stranger than the wolf. They were aliens, interlopers, interferers with the ancient habits of Carboona which people had got used to since the beginning of the world. The human creature had broken trees and made itself a lair of boughs. The wolf guarded it, spending his time in going up and down the valley as if he were its lord. If once he made that the centre of his range, things would happen upon Carboona: nothing would ever be the same.

Not content with bringing themselves into the borders of Carboona, the intruders had brought a third thing with them--Fire! The human creature had collected sticks and made a pile. And out of the pile had come strong-smelling mist that stung your nose; and, presently, an awful shining, like the sun and moon gone mad!

The great news travelled far and wide. It penetrated even into the damp dullness of the tamarack swamp where old Goshmeelee, the black bear, lived with her precious cubs. The little peoples of fur and feather caught the scatterings of it in the air and went uneasy in their minds.

But the person who could have given you more information than anybody else, was one who started the news travelling--Baltook, the Silver Fox.

CHAPTER XI

WHY THE FOXES TRUSTED DUSTY STAR

When Dusty Star and Kiopo, after many long days of journeying came into the valley below the den of the Silver Fox, they saw that there was water, and a good place for rest. They did not waste any time in discussing its advantages or drawbacks. They simply decided at once that here was the goal of their wandering and that here they would make their camp. That is to say, Dusty Star would make it. Kiopo would look on and, if he approved, would consent to making it his temporary home. If he did _not_ approve, he would show his dislike and uneasiness in so many plain ways that Dusty Star had no peace until they moved elsewhere. Even if the wolf was satisfied that no hidden danger lurked in the neighbourhood, and that they might safely settle down for a time, he could never take kindly to a sitting-down existence. For the great life that he had was always in his feet, so that he must be continually on the move, or going long journeys or short ones, as the case might be, but sooner or later, always coming back. So while Dusty Star built the tepee, Kiopo went exploring up and down the valley, getting every point of it well into his eyes, and every drifting smell it had well up his nose. And more than once, when he tried the wind suspiciously, he caught a faint yet unmistakedly musky odour that suggested a fox.

That night they slept soundly; Dusty Star in the bough-built tepee, Kiopo stretched full length across its entrance. And all night long, Carboona, the old savage home of countless lives, gloomed darkly above them, though they did not even know its name. Still less had either of them the least idea that they had chosen their resting-place within the borders of that very region where Kiopo had first drawn breath.

Next morning Dusty Star woke up well pleased with his new home. The day pa.s.sed quietly, and the inhabitants of the neighbourhood kept well out of the way. Kiopo did his hunting at a distance, and supplied the camp with food. Besides that, there was nothing particular to do. That was the joy of living where the world forgot to get civilized. After you had caught your meat and cooked it, the days and nights were very wide, because there were no clocks to make them narrow, and to chop them up into little bits called Time.

So because there really was nothing particular to do, Dusty Star on the fourth day after settling down in the new home, thought he would climb up Carboona in the climbing afternoon.

Now the same idea, almost at the same moment happened to come to another dweller upon Carboona, and that was the Catamount, or great wild cat, which had its lair in a hollow tree less than half-a-mile from the camp, and carried the dull green fire in his cruel eyes to make the leafy shadows a terror to all lesser forest folk.

He had slept most of the day in his tree after a good kill the night before, and was not feeling especially hungry. Still, to a blood-loving creature like the Catamount, there was always a pleasure in tracking fresh meat even if it was not needed. So the great cat set out for a leisurely stroll across Carboona to find if any new smells had been spilt along the world since he had gone to sleep.

For some time he got nothing that particularly interested his nose.

There were smells of course. But some were old, and some were unpleasant, and one or two were really dangerous. Among these last, was one of the big wolf which had recently come to harry Carboona, as if he were its rightful lord. The Catamount's eyes gleamed with an ugly light as he recognised Kiopo's hated scent, and went a little more warily on his way. Unlike Dusty Star, he did not immediately seek the upper sunny slopes. The green glooms of the evening shadows pleased him more. As he slunk along, lifting and setting his cushioned feet so delicately that his coming was like that of a piece of drifting thistledown, he looked as evil a presence as could be found abroad in the ending of the day.

When he reached the last ravine, above the further side of which the foxes had their den, he paused. A faint, unusual sound reached his ears at irregular intervals. At first it sounded like some small creature in distress. That was the very sort of prey the Catamount enjoyed. He began, very cautiously, to make his way across the ravine. When he was half-way up the opposite side, the sound came again. This time he heard not one voice, but several--and the notes were not those of creatures in distress. He was plainly puzzled. He had reached the sunlight now, and partly because of that, partly because every step brought him nearer to possible danger, he went with even greater caution than before. All at once the meaning of the commotion became clear to him. He heard; he smelt; he saw!

All this time, Dusty Star had gone on steadily climbing till he had caught up, as it were, with the very middle of the afternoon. But for all he knew, he mounted alone, and never once got a glimpse of that other stealthy climber who stole up like a furry shadow of the evening itself into the golden places of the afternoon. And the Catamount was equally unaware of the neighbourhood of the boy.

Suddenly Dusty Star came upon one of the surprises which Carboona keeps in its most secret spots. In an open s.p.a.ce between a ma.s.s of thickets he found a family of fox-cubs playing in the sun. Five, fat, funny little bodies, tumbled and sprawled and tussled and rolled in a frenzied frolic which, if you looked closely, was really a furious battle over the leg-bone of a grouse. Sometimes they bit the bone; sometimes each other.

It really didn't seem to matter, so long as somebody bit _something_. It was the triumphant glory of being able to bite! The fight raged first to one side, then to the other. There were little yelps and squeals, and miniature growls, like fairy thunder. Once the tide of battle rolled almost to Dusty Star's feet. The excitement was so great, and Dusty Star so still, that the cubs saw nothing and smelt nothing.

But for all their seeming unconsciousness, their little ears were keenly alive to sound. For when the mother fox suddenly gave the sharp warning bark which is the signal of approaching danger, four out of the five cubs scurried instantly back to the den.

The fifth cub, either because he was more stupid than the others, or more daring, stayed where he was, sitting up on his little haunches and moving his head from side to side as if to a.s.sure himself there was no need to hurry home when there was such an unexpected chance of having the grouse-bone all to himself.

And Dusty Star was not the only watcher of the disobedient cub.

Between him and that other watcher was less than a dozen paces, but as the boy had arrived on the spot a little earlier, and was now as motionless as the tree behind which he peeped, the Catamount was still unaware of his presence. Screened by a thick bush and a tangle of creepers, the great cat watched its opportunity with a mouth that quivered.

His first instinct on seeing the cubs was to retreat immediately with the same caution as he had approached. Various unpleasant experiences had already taught him the danger of interfering with young animals whose parents are likely to be within springing distance. But although he looked from side to side with the utmost care, not the merest whisker-tip of any parent was visible.

It was precisely at this moment that the mother-fox had uttered her cry of warning. What had startled her neither Dusty Star nor Catamount knew.

Over the trackless barrens, along the runways of hare, mink, and fisher, down the world-old trails of the journeying caribou, there have always travelled--there still travel--mysterious warnings that convey themselves to the hunted creature neither by sight, sound nor smell. And when the warning comes, all wise creatures seek the cunning of their feet.

At the cry, the startled Catamount crouched back into the bush; and if the fifth cub had followed the example of his brothers and sisters, the great cat would have retreated as he came; but the sight of that plump, furry little Disobedience, that sat there on its little tail impudently defying the world, almost within reach, was too great a temptation to resist.

The Catamount threw another piercing glance all round the locality. The mother fox gave no sign of her presence. If he wanted the furry Disobedience, it was now, or never. He crept forward half a pace and gathered his legs under him for a spring.

The movement he made was very slight; but it was sufficient to betray him to Dusty Star. Instantly the boy realized the danger threatening the cub, but before he could do anything, a lightning streak of fur flashed out of the bush, and hurled itself on the cub.

No sooner had the Catamount made good his hold on its squirming prey, than it turned to flee. To its intense astonishment, it found itself face to face with Dusty Star!

Never in its life before had the great cat set eyes on a human being.

For one brief moment, it was paralysed with fear. And that moment cost it dear. Quick as a hawk, Dusty Star stooped and struck. The keen blade of his hunting knife flickered in the sun, and then buried itself in the Catamount's fur.

With a scream of rage and terror, the animal dropped the cub, and turned savagely on its foe. But at that very instant there was a rush and a hoa.r.s.e squall, and it was knocked clean head over heels by the furious charge of the mother fox.

This totally unexpected attack completed the great cat's discomfiture.

Spitting and squawling, it bounded into the underwood and was instantly out of sight.

It might have been expected that the fox, having routed one enemy of her little one, would have turned at once on what she might have well supposed was another. But just as she had quitted the den to look for the missing cub, she had seen Dusty Star attack the Catamount, and her quick senses told her that the action had not meant any injury to her cub.

For all that, he was a new experience; and the wisdom of the wilderness is that new experiences had better not be trusted. So while she nosed the cub tenderly, turning it over with her paw, to see if it had been injured, she kept one eye jealously on Dusty Star to watch his slightest movement.

And now that wonderful knowledge of the feelings of wild animals partly taught him by Kiopo, which he had been gradually gathering all his life, came to his aid and told him what to do. For while his body remained so absolutely motionless that he hardly seemed to breathe, his mind made itself a finer body, and went out towards the fox; and the fox, receiving the message, learnt that she had nothing to fear. For all that, she was not easy that the cub should be left in the open, so far from the den's mouth. Dusty Star she had ceased to mistrust; but her instinct told her that, although the Catamount had disappeared, he was still in the neighbourhood. So before she allowed herself to find out any more about Dusty Star, she picked up the cub by the loose skin at the back of its fat little neck, and carried it back to the den. As a matter of fact, the Catamount was further than she knew, and now sat in the fork of a red-cedar tree, licking the wound inflicted by Dusty Star's knife, and making up his mind that if this new monster, with a paw that struck so fiercely was a protector of the foxes, it would be wiser to leave the entire gang severely alone.

When Baltook returned from his hunting with a plump partridge in his mouth, he was confronted by a strange sight. At the very entrance of their den he saw his mate sitting wholly at her ease, with a _human being_ by her side.

In all his life of surprises, Baltook had never come upon anything so surprising as that. Boola must be crazy--gone clean mad before the time of the Mad Moon when the wolves and foxes sing. Yet Boola had no appearance of madness. She just sat and gazed at the human being with extreme calmness as if she had known him all her life. For a moment or two, Baltook stood observing this astonishing sight, with one fore foot raised, as if uncertain what to do. Then he laid the partridge down quietly in order to get clear of the smell of the kill and so be able to scent the stranger. Screened by the bushes, he wrinkled his fine nose, and sniffed, and wrinkled, and wrinkled and sniffed, and still was unable to make up his mind. And there Boola sat all the time, as calm as a toadstool and seemed to have neither eyes nor ears except for her new friend.

At last Baltook could bear the suspense no longer. With his brush held high, and his eyes shining, he stepped warily out into the open.

When Boola saw her mate approaching, she rose to her feet with a low growl. But the growl was not meant as a sign of anger: it was merely her way of saying "Now, here we've got a visitor. Mind how you behave." Yet behind these words, if she had used them (which she didn't!) her mind was disturbed. A strange creature was close beside her, whom, though he had proved himself friendly, Baltook did not know.