readenglishbook.com » Fantasy » Helga: Out of Hedgelands, Rick Johnson [suggested reading txt] 📗

Book online «Helga: Out of Hedgelands, Rick Johnson [suggested reading txt] 📗». Author Rick Johnson



1 ... 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 ... 81
Go to page:
said. “Please tell mother how much I love her. I miss you both so much!”

Tatty hugged her. “Janty, I feel certain that the day will come when we will no longer be separated like this. It’s nuts!” he laughed, looking at Helga.

After the group had said fond farewells to TatterWoo-Corriboo, Janty said, “O.K., folks, it’s time to head for Toshty’s. We’ll need to walk about two hours to get there.”

“Uh, Janty,” Burwell asked, “it’s absolutely pitch dark. Do you really want to try to do this now? I don’t climb mountains well in the dark!” He looked uncertainly at Helga, who only gave her constantly worrying friend a bemused smile. She, too, was wondering how they would make such a trip in the dark, but Burwell’s worrying was also a bit of comic relief for her.

“You know, Burwell,” Helga observed, “if we stay here overnight, your bellybutton will eat your backbone for breakfast, and then the Venom Bats will pick over your carcass. I recommend we go find a nice soft bed and a meal.” She smiled at her friend.

“Aye, aye, Captain Helgy,” Burwell saluted. “That’s a march I’ll sign up for! Yep! Yep! Yep!”

Janty had pulled out a small pronghorn flute from her pack, and was blowing it softly.

“A pronghorn flute!” Helga exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t know anyone played that sort of flute around her.”

“No one does, except for me,” Janty replied. “I’ve always been a little off the beaten path, which is why my parents didn’t want me to stay in the WooPeace. They knew I would annoy WooZan so much she’d drive me out someday, if I didn’t go on my own! I was into too many things that would ‘disturb the WooPeace’ for me to stay there...” Janty chuckled. “Like pronghorn flutes—Toshty got this from a Roundie once and no one else could learn how to play it except me.”

“Yes,” Helga agreed, “the pronghorn flute is not easy to play. Few beasts, other than Wood Cows, have mastered it. I’m impressed that you can play.” Helga’s respect for Janty had received another boost.

“Well,” Janty said, “what I’ve discovered about the flute is that it has an amazing sound quality, that helps me to find my way in the dark!” She looked significantly at Burwell and demonstrated. “When you play the flute with a certain tone, like this...”

“...you can listen to the echoes of the tones and see an image of the terrain!” Helga completed the sentence.

Burwell looked doubtful. “Burwell, trust her,” Helga smiled. “It works. Wood Cows have always used the flute this way. I could do the same thing, but Papa—wherever he is—has my flute. If Janty knows how to use of the flute this way, I trust her. It is not easy for one to discover this quality of the flute alone. That Janty has discovered it means that she knows the flute very well.” This was a very special Fox, Helga thought to herself. A very special Fox.

 

An Unbroken Circle of Friends

Breister, stuffing himself with Bisonbread and honey butter, was a very happy beast. He, Annie, and Toshty had found plenty of cave bird eggs and honeycomb to eat on their way down the Deep Springs River, but as Breister put it, “Eggs and honeycomb kept my body glued together, but everything inside my body is famished!” He held out his pants to show how much weight he’d lost during their float down the underground river.

Toshty laughed. “If you weren’t such a big galoot in the first place, you wouldn’t have such big pants to keep filled! Why, I didn’t lose an ounce.”

“Oh, yeah?” Breister responded. “You’ve got so many feathers, and then so many clothes, it’s hard to tell how much meat you actually have at any given time!”

Toshty, Annie, and Breister had safely completed their voyage down the Deep Springs River. After coming ashore at the Deep Springs Landing, they deflated the canoe and rolled it up for carrying. Then, Toshty took them to Elbin and Sareth Abblegurt’s dugout. When Sareth opened the door and welcomed them, Toshty walked in like he belonged there. Obviously he had visited many times before. Sareth and Elbin welcomed him like one of the family.

Introductions were made all around. Elbin and Sareth were astonished and pleased to learn that one of the visitors was the father of their dear Helga. “It seems to be such a small world sometimes,” Sareth observed happily, embracing Breister. “We, who have never traveled more than a few miles from our home, now lay eyes on Helga’s father, who has come from a distant land. I can barely imagine how big the world must be that you have traveled so long and far to get here. Yet, how small the distance seems when we embrace.”

“And all because of a crazy old Owl,” Annie scowled playfully.

“I met Elbin several years ago,” Toshty explained, “when I traded with him for some corn and beans at the market.” He grinned. “Well, it was actually the smell of Sareth’s cookies that first attracted me to their stall. There were a lot of vendors selling corn and beans, but only one had fresh Bison coffee and cookies!”

“Since then, we’ve become close friends,” Sareth said. “Toshty stays with us when he visits the Rounds. He’s a part of the family. Now, you are, too. You’re all welcome to stay with us.” Looking fondly at Toshty, however, she offered an apology. “Sorry, old friend, but you’ll have to sleep on a cot this time. We’ve only got two spare beds in the dugout. We need to honor Breister’s visit by having him stay in the guest room, and Annie can have Helga’s old room—we’ve kept it much as it was when she lived with us.” The three travelers gladly accepted the offer of hospitality.

Somehow, although Breister had never been there before, it all seemed strangely familiar to him. Perhaps it was the fact that he had heard Helga tell so many stories about her years growing up with Elbin and Sareth. But he also remembered the vision he had had at the whirlpool. He didn’t understand it. He was welcomed with such warmth in the Abblegurt round that he felt completely at ease. He seemed to be one of the family.

Breister appreciated the warm welcome, the hospitality, and the opportunity to get to know Elbin and Sareth. On the other hand, he also urgently wanted to continue his search for Helga. Thanking his hosts for their kindness, he mentioned his hope to leave the next day. Sareth would not hear of it. “You’re not leaving this house until you don’t look so pale and thin!” she declared. “You need at least a week of Bison bread, catfish, and greens! If you try to leave before then, I swear I will hide your clothes! Why, I might just burn them!” she exclaimed, giving Breister a laughing, but determined, look. Despite his protests, Breister knew he would have to stay a while. Country Bison were renowned for their hospitality, and equally known for their kind and humble, but absolutely unmovable, manner with guests.

“Just relax, my friend,” Toshty advised. “Enjoy the food and friendliness. You’ve been through a lot. Sareth is right; you really do look thin. Rest up and renew yourself. You will feel stronger and be better able to continue your search.” He patted his friend on the shoulder. “And besides,” he added, “they are Helga’s family, too, and they need to get to know you a bit.”

Breister was thoughtful. He did want to honor the Abblegurt’s as the family who had raised Helga. Helga often told him how much she longed to visit the Rounds, but there had been no way to leave the Hedgelands until they were expelled.

“How odd life is,” Breister reflected, sitting at the hearth listening to the happy chatter in the Abblegurt dugout. “Helga, who so longs to be here, is not; and I, who know these Bison only as fanciful stories now come to life, am here! Helga would choose to come here in a minute, if she were able, yet I find myself here by the most amazing forces of chance. The very household where she was raised! In my vision, it was almost as if I knew I would someday be here...I could see it...it was just like this.”

Over the next few days, the travelers explored the Rounds with Elbin. He was an excellent guide, showing them places that even Toshty had never seen, despite his numerous visits. Breister found one of the places where Elbin took them especially interesting. They went to a rocky point overlooking a quiet pool along Hervy’s Trickle. “Roundies often come here to jig for perch,” he explained. The flat, overhanging rock was caked with smoky residue left by the fires and drippings of countless fish-frys.

“Well, this is certainly a sight to see,” Breister said politely, wondering why they had gone on such a long walk to see a dirty, scorched boulder.

Elbin grinned at his visitor’s puzzlement. “Look over the edge into the pool,” he directed.

Breister, Toshty, and Annie did as had been suggested. Breister howled with glee. “HELGA!” The word was written with stones at the bottom of the clear, deep pool.

“Yes, Helga placed the rocks herself,” Elbin explained, smiling fondly at Breister. “I knew this was a place you’d want to see.” Breister’s happy face confirmed this. “The rocks have been there since Helga left,” he continued. “A ferocious snapping turtle inhabits the pool—Grandfather Vicious they call him. Most of us just refer to him as Grandbub Vic. He’s said to be over 100 years old, but he’s still fit enough to take off toes with a nip of his beak. I saw him once and he surely weighs at least 400 pounds—he’s a terrible wonder to see! Why, there’s been hunters go after him and come back with chunks of their hide gone, and their pikes and hooks left nothing by splinters. So, everyone just leaves him alone. The Deep Springs River is a much safer place to swim.”

“Makes sense to me,” Breister observed.

“Maybe so,” Elbin agreed, “but, just before Helga left the Rounds, she wanted to say ‘Good-Bye’ in a unique way. You see the result.”

“Well, it’s true to her brave and strong-willed nature,” Breister said with a tone of admiration. “Sounds just like something she would have done.”

“And I imagine that no one is about to jump in there and change it,” Toshty laughed.

“No,” Elbin chuckled, “even if Helga made friends with Old Vic, or whatever she did, it will remain something only she would do.”

With Elbin’s help, the three friends became skillful at catching perch with a jigging pole. They pulled out 30 fish in just over an hour. “Grandbub Vic doesn’t eat fish,” Elbin explained. “The pool is full of them. But Hervy’s Trickle is picked clean of just about any other water critter around the big snapper’s territory—snakes, clams, frogs, mussels, crawdads, smaller turtles—you name it, and the old fellow eats ’em. But the fish just go along like nobody’s business. No one knows why. But it makes this a great place to catch them.”

The delightful feast of fried fish they shared gave Breister a deep feeling of contentment. He felt that he had gained some precious closeness to his daughter, which he would have missed had he pressed quickly on in his search.

But, as the days passed, Breister’s desire to continue his search grew. Not wishing to offend his generous hosts, he enjoyed the happy fellowship of the household. His feelings of restlessness continued to increase, however. He had resolved to share these feelings, when one morning he noticed that Sareth was up extremely early, rustling

1 ... 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 ... 81
Go to page:

Free e-book «Helga: Out of Hedgelands, Rick Johnson [suggested reading txt] 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment