The Rightful Heir (28 page)

“Aaaaaaaagh!” A blood-curdling yell far away in the trees pierced every heart.

“It's got someone! It's got someone!” a delirious gopher yelled, causing panic.

Clementine hastily turned to the pugs and raccoons. “You guys split up and take the sides and end of the pack. If you see anything, holler up to the front. Let's move!”

Following their leaders, the multitude of terrified creatures fled from the forest. No one noticed their friend, Felix, in the middle of the pack shaking uncontrollably.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

T
HE SUN STILL HADN'T RISEN
but teased the eastern sky with hints of red and
purple. Clementine had led the animals through the woods throughout the cool night. They were both scared and exhausted. Finally the flat limestone crept into the forest and they were in a clearing of tall cottonwoods. They'd reached the bluestem grass pastures.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Clementine exclaimed in relief. He turned to face the multitude in the pasture, moving his ears to hear any threatening noise. It was silent. “Okay, everyone. It should be smooth and easy from here on.”

“When can we stop to rest?” someone asked.

“Yes, and when can we eat?” said another.

“Let's go just a little ways farther then we'll eat some…” The pig looked around for blackberry bushes, but they were in a part of the pasture he'd never seen. “We'll eat, alright? But just a little while longer.” They started across the limestone rocks and grass. Soon his snout picked up the familiar scent.
Now don't do anything stupid
.… “Hey! Here are some blackberry bushes, but be careful. Those thorns really hurt!” He was grateful that they hadn't seen him make a fool of himself on his last journey, when he ran into them.

The animals scattered around the large, thorny bushes. Some had never eaten blackberries; some never wanted to again. But they all tried to carefully pick the berries off the branches. A few painful yells were heard, but mostly they ate pain-free.

“Oh,
wow!” a rabbit called out. “Everyone, come and look at this!”

Following the voice, Malcolm almost fell over the edge of a little cliff. He looked down to see himself standing at the top of one of two high, slanting stone walls. The brown rabbit stood on the ground between them. The rest of the animals joined Malcolm, surprised to see such an oddly placed thing in the middle of nowhere.

“What is it?” Jonah asked.

“No doubt manmade.” A raccoon looked it over.

Clementine walked down one sloping wall to join the rabbit. Looking back at the faces above, he realized just how big it was. The two walls on each side of him ascended to a large stone wall behind them. “Well…” he thought for a moment, “This could've been a barn, I suppose.”

“Yeah, but where's the roof?” the rabbit asked.

Clementine watched all the animals walk down to join him and the rabbit. Every face gawked at the impressive structure. “I don't know where the roof is, but it definitely has the farm animals!” The crowd joined him.

“Abe, what is this place?” a female rabbit asked.

“I don't know, dear.”

“Dad, I'm tired!”

“Me, too!” complained a little brown bunny, accompanied by fourteen siblings.

“Well, we might as well take a short break while we're here,” Clementine told the multitude, all corralled inside the long enclosure cut out in the ground, admiring the walls of stone. The sun peeked up over the eastern horizon.

Malcolm was the first to remark on it. “Finally we'll get some light—”

“Owwwwwwwwwwwww! Owwww, owwwwwwwwww!”

Every heart stopped
beating. They all knew that sound. Breathing heavily, almost hysterically, the starving coyotes walked down the hill one by one, Belshak leading the pack. They stood at the entrance of the enclosure where the creatures were now trapped. “Did I promise you a feast or what?!” The others drooled and licked their chops in excitement.

The helpless animals—mothers, children, and even a few fathers—screamed for their lives. A frightened baby squirrel clung to her mother's furry chest. They all hugged each other tightly, knowing it would be the last time they would do so.

Clementine scanned the large, ghastly pack. Although they outnumbered the savage coyotes, he knew they were no match for such beasts. There was only one thing to do.
“HELLLLLLLLP!”

“I'll fight until I die, Clementine,” Malcolm said with a shaky voice.

“Oh, you'll die,” Belshak growled. “Get ready to eat, my brothers!”

The wild gray hair proudly stood up on Belshak's skinny rigid back. Unable to contain themselves, the coyotes began howling madly, tormenting their prey. Saliva dripped from their jaws. But amid the deafening howls and screams from the trapped animals, and despite his own fear, Clementine noticed a slight vibration through his hooves. Malcolm did, too. He looked at the pig. No one else had felt it. Through the smallest crack, somewhere between the coyotes and the stone wall that blocked the animals in, Clementine and Malcolm saw a dust cloud rising from a moving blur of gray, black, and white.

“CHAAAAAAARGE!”

The voice was barely audible over the uproar, but Clementine's ears cocked. Then his lips mouthed in disbelief,
“Roscoe?”

Belshak heard the foreign voice and turned. The large herd of
wild goats he and his pack had attacked two nights before now charged them boldly. Only this time a little black and white goat ran awkwardly in the lead.

“Hold it in, Roscoe. You're a wild goat now,” he encouraged himself as he got closer to the large pack of intimidating carnivores. Little by little his stiff legs loosened and he ran like a normal, wild goat. His sudden confidence brought a smile to his face. Picking up the pace, he charged the beastly attackers full steam ahead. “Hang on, Clementine! We're coming!
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!”
All the goats joined the cry.

The coyotes didn't have time to react. The racing herd bulldozed through the pack. Coyotes flew in the air, knocked unconscious by the powerful, curly goat horns. Some were punctured and left to die. The massive crowd of trapped animals watched in awe.

Belshak gathered a few coyotes from his pack to attack a single goat. Several wild goats came to his rescue, sending Belshak and his followers flying. The battle continued to howling, yelping, baaahing, and whooping. Dust obscured the scene from the animals, and the ground shook violently. Then, out of the dust, the wild herd emerged. One by one they stood before Clementine.

“Are you…alright?” Panting, Zane asked the dumbstruck pig.

“Y-yes.” Clementine couldn't believe what he saw.

“Then I suggest we leave,” the goat said, favoring a wounded leg.

“Right.” Clementine turned to his group. “Okay, everyone, follow me!” The goats parted to allow the pig and his multitude to walk through a clearing of bodies. Coyotes were scattered across the ground, injured and dying. A few shuddered, causing the frightened travelers to jump. Then Clementine spotted a familiar form on the ground.

“ROSCOE!”
he gasped. Clementine ran to his fallen friend. “Roscoe! Are you alive?” His exposed side was covered with scratches and bite marks.

“Unnnnghhhh,” the little goat grunted. He opened one eye. Two dead coyotes lay next to him, tongues hanging out. He looked up.
“Pig?”

“Yes, Roscoe, it's me…Pig!” The others stood behind Clementine in silence.

“Oh…” Roscoe took a breath and winced. “Well, that's good.” He shut his eyes. “Hey…Clementine…” His lips barely moved.

“Yes, Roscoe?”

The little goat coughed in pain. “Knock…knock…”

“Ummm…who's there?” Clementine couldn't make sense of it.

“Unnnnnnh…Orange…” Roscoe's head fell against the ground. He let out a long exhale…then stopped breathing.

“Uh…orange who?” Tears welled in Clementine's eyes. He waited. “Roscoe?” The goat lay there with his eyes closed. The pig saw his friend's broken horn, the injury he'd gotten from saving him in Farangis's barn. Now he'd saved him again and paid a much higher price. “…Roscoe?” Clementine's heart raced. “Hey!…Orange who?” The pig started to cry. “ORANGE WHO?!”

The animals behind him lowered their heads, some crying, all incapable of uttering a word.

“ROSCOE! ANSWER ME!” The pig bawled at the peaceful goat. “ORANGE WHO?!!” Clementine bowed his head, crying uncontrollably.

“Orange you glad I'm not as stupid as you??”
Chomp!
Eyes wide open, Roscoe's head darted out and bit the pig's leg, making him jump. There were some awkward giggles. “Ha, ha!” Roscoe jumped to his feet, wincing a little from his wounds but laughing.

The pig was stunned to his hooves. “Why…you…little…!”
Clementine was half-smiling, half-angry. He didn't know which emotion to have.

“Gotcha!” Roscoe winked at him and took off running.
“Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!”
The pig chased after him as the goat skipped along in the pasture.

Malcolm snickered then regained his composure. “Alright, we'd better keep moving.” Every last traveler walked through the fallen dead and unconscious coyotes, then continued west in the pastures. The morning sun, peeking over the treetops of Persly's Woods, allowed them to see Clementine and Roscoe playing in the tall grass ahead. As time went on, the tension dissipated and the animals began conversing. One little raccoon was especially chatty with the legendary herd of wild goats he'd heard about back in the forest.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX