Beyond the Deepwoods (15 page)

The banderbear fixed Twig with its sad eyes. ‘Wuu-uh?’ it groaned again.

It was in pain, that much was clear. Despite its size, it looked oddly vulnerable. Twig knew it must need his help. He took a step forwards. The banderbear did the same. Twig smiled. ‘What's the matter?’ he said.

The banderbear opened its mouth wide and prodded around clumsily inside with a single claw. ‘Uh-uuh.’

Twig swallowed nervously. ‘Let me see,’ he said.

The banderbear came closer. It moved by placing both forepaws on the ground and swinging its hind legs forwards. As it approached, Twig was surprised to see grey-green moss growing in its fur. It was this that made the banderbear appear green.

‘Wuh,’ it grunted as it stopped in front of the boy. It opened its mouth and Twig was struck by a blast of putrid warm air. He winced and turned his face away. ‘WUH!’ the banderbear grunted impatiently.

Twig looked up. ‘I … I can't reach that high,’ he explained. ‘Even on tiptoes. You'll have to lie down,’ he said and pointed at the ground.

The banderbear nodded its enormous head and lay at Twig's feet. And, as Twig looked down into its huge and sorrowful eyes, he saw something unexpected quivering there in the dark green depths. It was fear.

‘Open wide,’ Twig said softly, and he opened his own mouth to show what he meant. The banderbear followed suit. Twig found himself staring into the creature's cavernous mouth, over the rows of savage teeth and down the gaping tunnel of its throat. Then he saw it, at
the back of the mouth on the left; a tooth so rotten it had turned from yellow to black.

‘Sky above!’ Twig exclaimed. ‘No wonder you're in pain.’

‘Wuh wuh, wh-uuuh!’ the banderbear groaned and tugged his hand repeatedly away from its mouth.

‘You want me to pull it out?’ said Twig.

The banderbear nodded, and a large tear rolled down from the corner of each eye.

‘Be brave,’ Twig whispered. ‘I'll try not to hurt.’

He knelt down, rolled up his sleeves and took a closer look at the inside of the banderbear's mouth. The tooth, though dwarfed by the two huge tusks, was still the size of a small mustard pot. It was nestling in gum so red and swollen, it looked ready to burst. Twig reached gingerly in and clasped the rotten tooth.

The banderbear immediately flinched and turned sharply away. One razor-sharp tusk scraped across Twig's arm, drawing blood. ‘Yow! Don't do that!’ he shouted. ‘If you want me to help you, you must keep perfectly still. Got that?’

‘Wuh-wuh!’ the banderbear mumbled.

Twig tried again. This time, although its huge eyes narrowed with pain, the banderbear did not move as Twig grasped the tooth.

‘Tug and twist,’ he instructed himself as he tightened his grip on the pitted tooth. He braced himself ready. ‘Three. Two. One.
NOW
!’ he yelled.

Twig tugged and twisted. He tugged so hard he toppled backwards, wrenching the tooth round as he did so. It juddered and rasped as the roots were torn from the gum. Blood and pus spurted out. Twig crashed down to the ground. In his hands was the tooth.

The banderbear leaped up, eyes flashing furiously. It bared its teeth, it beat its chest, it shattered the silence of the Deepwoods with a deafening roar. Then, overcome with a terrible rage, it began tearing wildly at the surrounding forest. Bushes were uprooted, trees knocked down.

Twig stared in horror. The pain must have driven the creature crazy. He struggled to his feet and tried to slip away before the beast could turn its fury on him…

But he was already too late. The banderbear had caught sight of him out of the corner of its eye. It swung round. It tossed aside an uprooted sapling. ‘WUH!’ it bellowed and bounded towards him, all wild eyes and glinting teeth.

‘No,’ Twig whispered, terrified that he was about to be torn limb from limb.

The next instant the banderbear was upon him. He felt its massive arms wrapping themselves around his body and smelled the musty odour of mossy fur as he was crushed against the creature's belly.

And there the two of them remained. Boy and banderbear, hugging each other gratefully in the dappled light of the Deepwoods afternoon.

‘Wuh-wuh,’ said the banderbear at last, and loosed its arms. It pointed inside its mouth and scratched its head questioningly.

‘Your tooth?’ said Twig. ‘I've got it here,’ and he held it out to the banderbear on the palm of his hand.

Delicately for one so immense, the banderbear took the tooth and wiped it on its fur. Then it held it up to the light so that Twig could see the hole which had been eaten right the way through. ‘Wuh,’ it said, and touched the amulets around Twig's neck. It handed the tooth back.

‘You want me to wear it round my neck?’ said Twig.

‘Wuh,’ said the banderbear. ‘Wuh-wuh.’

‘For good luck,’ said Twig.

The banderbear nodded. And when Twig had slipped it onto the thong with Spelda's lucky charms it nodded again, satisfied.

Twig smiled. ‘Feel better now?’ he said.

The banderbear nodded solemnly. Then it touched its chest and extended its arm towards Twig.

‘Is there something you can do for me in return?’ said Twig. ‘Not half! I'm starving,’ he said. ‘Food, food,’ he added, and patted his stomach.

The banderbear looked puzzled. ‘Wuh!’ it grunted, and swung its arm round in a wide arc.

‘But I don't know what's safe to eat,’ Twig explained. ‘Good? Bad?’ he said, pointing to different fruits.

The banderbear beckoned, and led him across to a tall bell-shaped tree with pale green leaves and bright red fruit, so ripe it was dripping. Twig licked his lips greedily. The banderbear reached up, plucked a single piece of fruit in its claws and held it out for Twig.

‘Wuh,’ it grunted insistently, and patted its own stomach. The fruit was good; Twig should eat.

Twig took the fruit and bit into it. It was more than good. It was delicious! Sweet, succulent and with a hint of woodginger. When it was gone, he turned to the banderbear and patted his stomach again. ‘More,’ he said.

‘Wuh,’ grinned the banderbear.

*

They made an odd couple – the furry mountain and the stick boy – and occasionally Twig would ask himself why the banderbear stuck round. After all, it was so big and strong, and knew so much about the secrets of the Deepwoods that it didn't need Twig.

Maybe it, too, had felt lonely. Maybe it was grateful to him for pulling out the aching tooth. Or maybe it was simply that the banderbear liked him. Twig hoped so. Certainly
he
liked the banderbear – he liked him more than anyone he had ever known. More than Taghair. More than Gristle. More even than Hoddergruff, when the two had still been friends. How far away and long ago his life with the woodtrolls seemed.

Twig realized that by now cousin Snetterbark must have sent word that he hadn't arrived. What must they be thinking? He knew what Tuntum's gruff response would be. ‘Strayed from the path,’ he could hear his father saying. ‘Always knew he would. He was never a woodtroll. His mother was too soft on him.’

Twig sighed. Poor Spelda. He could see her face, wet with tears. ‘I told him,’ she would weep. ‘I told him to stay on the path. We loved him like one of our own.’

But Twig wasn't truly one of theirs. He didn't belong – not with the woodtrolls, nor with the slaughterers and certainly not in the sticky honeycombs of the gyle goblin colony.

Perhaps this is where he belonged, with the lonely old banderbear in the endless Deepwoods, wandering from meal to meal, sleeping in the soft, safe, secret places that
only banderbears know. Always on the move, never staying in one place for long, and never following a path.

Sometimes, when the moon rose above the ironwood pines, the banderbear would stop and sniff the air, its small ears fluttering and its eyes half closed. Then it would take a deep breath and let out a forlorn yodelling call into the night air.

From far, far away, there would come a reply: another solitary banderbear calling back across the vastness of the Deepwoods. Perhaps one day they would stumble across each other. Perhaps not. That was the sorrow in their song. It was a sorrow Twig understood.

‘Banderbear?’ he said, one sweltering afternoon.

‘Wuh?’ the banderbear replied, and Twig felt a giant paw on his shoulder, powerful yet gentle.

‘Why do we never meet the banderbears you call to at night?’ he asked.

The banderbear shrugged. That was simply the way it was. It reached up and picked a green star-shaped fruit from a tree. It prodded it, sniffed it – and growled.

‘No good?’ said Twig.

The banderbear shook its head, split the fruit open with a claw and let it drop to the ground. Twig looked round.

‘What about them?’ he said, pointing up to a small round yellow fruit dangling far above his head.

The banderbear stretched up and pulled off a bunch. Sniffing all the while, it turned the fruit over and over in its massive paws. Then it gently removed an individual fruit from the bunch, nicked the skin with its claw and sniffed again. Finally, it touched the bead of syrup
against the tip of its long black tongue and smacked its lips. ‘Wuh-wuh,’ it said at last, and handed the whole bunch over.

‘Wonderful,’ Twig slurped. How lucky he was to have the banderbear to show him what he could and couldn't eat. He pointed to himself, then to the banderbear. ‘Friends,’ he said.

The banderbear pointed to himself, and then to Twig. ‘Wuh,’ he said.

Twig smiled. High above him but low in the sky, the sun sank, and the light in the forest turned from lemon yellow to a rich golden glow, that poured through the leaves like warm syrup. He yawned. ‘I'm tired,’ he said.

‘Wuh?’ said the banderbear.

Twig pressed his hands together and rested the side of his head against them. ‘Sleep,’ he said.

The banderbear nodded. ‘Wuh. Wuh-wuh,’ it said.

As they set off, Twig smiled to himself. When they had first met, the banderbear's snoring had kept him awake. Now, he would have found it hard to fall asleep without the comforting rumble beside him.

They continued walking, with Twig following the path that the banderbear made through the dense undergrowth. Passing a spiky blue-green bush, Twig reached out absentmindedly and picked a couple of the pearly white berries that grew in clusters at the base of each spike. He popped one of them into his mouth.

‘Are we nearly there?’ he asked.

The banderbear turned. ‘Wuh?’ it said. Suddenly its wide eyes grew narrow and its wispy ears began to flap.
‘WUUUH!’ it roared, and made a lunge at the boy.

What was the matter now? Had the banderbear gone crazy again?

Twig turned on his heels and leaped out of the way of the massive beast as it hurtled towards him. It could crush him without even meaning to. The banderbear crashed to the ground, flattening the vegetation. ‘WUH!’ it roared again, and swung at him savagely.

The blow caught Twig on the arm. It sent him spinning round. His hand opened and the pearly berry flew off into the undergrowth. Twig landed on the ground with a bump. He looked up. The banderbear was towering above him menacingly. Twig went to scream. As he did so, the other berry – the one in his mouth – slid back and lodged itself in the back of his throat. And there it remained.

Twig coughed and spluttered, but the berry would not shift. His face went from pink to red to purple as he gasped for air. He staggered to his feet and stared up at the banderbear. Everything was beginning to swim in front of his eyes. ‘Can’ bre’!’ he groaned, and clutched at his throat.

‘Wuh!’ the banderbear cried out. It grabbed Twig by the ankles.

Twig felt himself being hoisted upside down into the air. The banderbear's heavy paw began pummelling his back. Again and again it thumped down but
still
the berry would not budge. Again and again and…

POP!

The berry shot out of Twig's mouth and bounced across the ground.

Twig gasped and gulped at the air. Panting uncontrollably, he squirmed and wriggled upside down in the banderbear's grasp. ‘Down,’ he rasped. The banderbear scooped Twig up with its free arm and lay him gently on a pile of dry leaves. It crouched low and pushed its face up close.