Beyond the Deepwoods (16 page)

‘Wuh-wuh?’ it said.

Twig looked into the concerned face of the banderbear. Its eyes were open wider than ever. It frowned questioningly. Twig smiled and wrapped his arms around the banderbear's neck.

‘Wuh!’ it said.

The banderbear pulled away and looked Twig in the eye. Then it turned and pointed at the berry that had so nearly choked him. ‘Wuh-wuh,’ it said angrily, clutched at its stomach and rolled on its back in mock agony.

Twig nodded solemnly. The berry was also poisonous. ‘Not good,’ he said.

‘Wuh,’ said the banderbear, leaping to its feet. ‘Wuh-wuh-wuh!’ it cried, and jumped up and down, up and down. And, as it continued to pummel and pound the offending berry, the trampled vegetation all round was shredded and the ground beneath flew up in clouds of dust. Tears of laughter streamed down Twig's face.

‘It's OK,’ he said. ‘I promise.’

The banderbear came over and patted Twig gently on the head. ‘Wu … wu … Fr … wuh. Fr-uh-nz,’ it said.

‘That's right,’ Twig smiled. ‘Friends.’ He pointed to himself again. ‘Twig,’ he said. ‘Say it. Twig.’

‘T-wuh-g,’ said the banderbear and beamed proudly. ‘T-wuh-g! T-wuh-g! T-wuh-g!’ it said, over and over, and it stooped down, seized the boy and swung him up onto its shoulders. Together, they lurched off into the darkening woods.

It wasn't long before Twig was foraging for himself. He wasn't as skilful as the banderbear with its giant claws and sensitive nose, but he learned quickly and the Deepwoods gradually became a less frightening place. All the same, in the dark black night, it was a comfort to feel the great heaving bulk of the banderbear beside him, its gruff snores soothing him back to sleep.

Twig thought about his woodtroll family less and less. He hadn't forgotten them exactly, it was just that there didn't seem any need to think much about anything. Eat, sleep, eat some more…

Every now and then, though, Twig was jolted out of the Deepwoods dream, once when he saw a sky ship in the distance, and a few times when he thought he saw the caterbird in the dappled branches of lullabee trees.

But life went on. They ate and slept and yodelled at the moon. And then it happened.

It was a crisp autumnal evening, and Twig was once again up on the banderbear's shoulders. They were searching out a sleeping place for the night when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Twig saw a flash
of orange. He glanced round. Some way behind them was a small furry creature, like a ball of orange fluff.

A little further on and Twig looked round for a second time. Now there were four of the fluffy little creatures, all frisking about like hammelhorn lambs.

‘Sweet,’ he said.

‘Wuh?’ said the banderbear.

‘Behind us,’ Twig said, tapping the banderbear on the shoulder and pointing back.

The pair of them turned. By now there were a dozen of the curious animals, all bouncing along after them. When it caught sight of the creatures, the banderbear's ears began swivelling round and round, and from its mouth came a soft but high-pitched squeal.

‘What is it?’ said Twig and chuckled. ‘You're not going to tell me you're frightened of
them
!’

The banderbear only squealed all the louder, and trembled from the ends of its ears to the tips of its toes. It was all Twig could do to hold on.

‘Wig-wig!’ the banderbear bellowed.

As Twig watched, the number of fluffy orange
creatures doubled, then doubled again. They scampered about in the twilight glow, this way and that, but never getting any nearer. The banderbear grew more and more agitated. It shuffled about nervously from foot to foot, squealing all the while.

Suddenly, it had had enough. ‘Wuh-wuh!’ it cried.

Twig gripped the banderbear's long hair and held on tightly as it lurched forwards. It trundled blindly through the forest.
Bump, bump, bump
. It was all Twig could do not to fall off. He glanced behind him. There was no doubt about what was happening: the orange balls of fluff were giving chase.

Twig's own heart was racing now. On their own the little creatures had looked sweet, but as a group there was something curiously menacing about them.

Faster and faster, the banderbear ran. It crashed through the woods, flattening everything before it. Time and again, Twig had to duck down behind its huge head as branches and bushes came hurtling towards him. The wig-wigs simply followed the path the great beast was carving – and it wasn't long before the ones at the front were catching up.

Twig looked down anxiously. Four or five of the creatures were now leaping at the banderbear's feet every time they touched the ground. Suddenly one of them clung on.

‘Sky above!’ Twig gasped as the fluffy ball split in half and two rows of savage teeth like the jags on a bear trap sprang into view. The next instant the teeth slammed shut on the banderbear's leg.

‘Wuh-ooooo!’ it screeched.

With Twig still clinging on for grim death, the banderbear leaned over, tore the wig-wig off, and tossed it away. The ferocious little beast rolled back over the ground, only to be replaced by four more.

‘Squash them! Crush them!’ Twig screamed.

But it was hopeless. No matter how many of the wig-wigs the banderbear sent flying through the air, there were always a dozen or more to take their
place. They clung to its legs, to its arms; they crawled up its back towards the banderbear's neck, up towards Twig!

‘Help me!’ he screamed.

The banderbear jerked abruptly upright and stumbled over to a tall tree. Twig felt its huge paws round his waist as it pulled him from its shoulders and placed him high up into the branches of the tree, far out of reach of the bloodthirsty wig-wigs.

‘T-wuh-g,’ it said. ‘Fr-uh-nz.’

‘You climb up too,’ said Twig. But as he looked back into the banderbear's sad eyes, he knew that would never be possible.

The wig-wigs bit into the banderbear's legs again and again until finally with a low moan, the huge beast toppled down to the ground. Its body was immediately covered with the vicious creatures.

Twig's eyes filled with tears. He turned away, unable to look. He clamped his hands over his ears but couldn't shut out the cries of the banderbear as it battled on.

Then the Deepwoods fell silent. Twig knew it was all over.

‘Oh, banderbear,’ he sobbed. ‘Why? Why? Why?’

He wanted to jump down, knife unsheathed, and kill every single one of the wig-wigs. He wanted to avenge the death of his friend. Yet he knew all too well that there was not a thing he could do.

Twig wiped his eyes and looked down. The wig-wigs had gone. And of the banderbear, there wasn't a trace to be seen, not a bone, not a tooth or claw, not a single scrap
of mossy fur. From far away there came the forlorn yodelling call of a distant banderbear. Time after time its heartrending cry echoed through the trees.

Twig held the tooth around his neck tightly in his hand. He sniffed. ‘It can't answer you now,’ he whispered tearfully. ‘Or ever again.’

· CHAPTER NINE ·
T
HE
R
OTSUCKER

T
wig stared down into the twilight shadows beneath him. He couldn't see any of the wig-wigs. They had co-ordinated their deadly attack in silence, neither squeaking nor squealing throughout the entire operation. The only sound to be heard had been the crunching of bones and slurping of blood. Now the vicious little beasts had slipped away silently and were gone.

At least, Twig
hoped
they were gone. He sniffed again, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He couldn't afford to be wrong.

Above his head the sky turned from brown to black. The moon rose, low and luminous. The stillness of dusk had already been broken by the first stirrings of the night creatures and now as Twig continued to sit and stare, unable to move, those sounds of night-time grew. They
whooped and wailed, they shuffled and screeched: invisible but no less perceptible for that. In the darkness you see with your ears.

Below Twig's swinging legs the forest floor steamed. A fine coiling mist wove itself round and around the trunks of the trees. It was as if the Deepwoods were simmering; with peril, with evil.

‘I'll stay up here,’ Twig whispered to himself as he pulled himself to his feet. ‘Till morning.’

With his arms outstretched for balance, Twig made his way along the branch to the trunk of the tree. There he began to climb. Higher and higher he went, looking for some configuration of branches that would both support his weight and offer some comfort in the long night ahead.

As the leaves around him grew denser, Twig's eyes began to sting and water. He plucked a leaf and looked at it carefully. It was angular and glowed a pale turquoise. ‘Oh, banderbear,’ he sighed. ‘Of all the trees you could have chosen, why did you have to place me in a lullabee tree?’

There was no point climbing any further. The upper branches of the lullabees were notoriously brittle. What was more, it was cold so high up. The biting wind was turning his exposed arms and legs to gooseflesh. Twig shifted round to the far side of the trunk and started back down again.

Abruptly, the moon disappeared. Twig paused. The moon remained hidden and the wind plucked at his fingers. Slowly, slowly, guided by the touch of the rough bark on his feet, Twig climbed carefully down. Wig-wigs or no wig-wigs, one slip and he'd crash down to certain death below.