Felidae on the Road - Special U.S. Edition (24 page)

I moved from the bare tunnel of the hut to the enclosure inside the cage, and it was like walking into a fairy-tale kingdom. A synthetic one, though, making a very odd impression in view of the genuine wilderness outside. The interior of the outsize cage could be described as a tribute to advanced ideas of zoo management. Human beings will never shake off their old passion for keeping animals in captivity, but under critical pressure from the public they do sometimes allow their innocent prisoners a living area which at least looks right for the species. You'll find a withered tree plonked down overnight in a sterile monkey house for the inmates to climb, or a few extra rocks lying about the terrarium. It was into a pseudo-jungle of this nature that I stepped. This time, however, the stage designers had excelled themselves. An intertwining tangle of deliberately planted trees merged with a genuine proliferation of wild, indeterminate vegetation, so that paradoxically enough the unbridled power of the wilderness was more striking inside the cage than outside. Rampant ivy had not only covered all these plants as if applying a coat of green paint, but had grown up to the ceiling of the cage and turned it into a roof of leaves, almost impermeable to light.

What creature had they kept prisoner here? And why so far from civilisation? Had it been so dangerous that they didn't dare let it out? Above all, where was it now? Escaped? I could really think of only one candidate justifying such vast expense: Monster Paw.

Minute, barely perceptible movements were stirring among the leaves and branches, movements which could easily have been put down to a whim of the rising wind. Without seeming to show it - or so at least I imagined -1 turned, intending to go straight back into the hut and then get away from this eerie spot. But those imperceptible movements were suddenly by the doorway and in the hut too, in fact they were everywhere. And as if that wasn't enough, there were sudden movements in the forest around the giant cage as well. Strange shadows began to stir.

The movements took shape, became silhouettes. The silhouettes became Wild Ones, creatures whose beauty dazzled me like holy light. They'd been here all the time, sitting among twigs, perched on branches, but the camouflage of their coats, coloured like the forest itself, had deceived my eye. Now they were moving. The general effect was of time-lapse filming showing rosebuds unfurling their petals. Like North American Indians encircling a farmhouse very slowly, the rest of the tribe now came streaming out of the forest, moving in a patient procession towards the hut. The Wild Ones already in the cage rose to their feet, jumped down from their camouflaged nests and began to surround me. Soon I found myself in a close circle which was getting denser every moment as more and more specimens of
Felis silvestris
came in from outside and joined it. Then they were all around me, eyeing me curiously.

'I can't give you a tap-dance, if that's what you're after,' I said, my nervousness making me facetious. The way they were goggling at me gave me the creeps.

'I'm really surprised to hear that - I thought you could turn your paw to anything, Francis,' said a trembling voice behind my back. I turned and saw an old, old queen sitting on a tree stump entirely covered by moss. It was extraordinary that I hadn't noticed her right away, for her coat, once tabby, had gone grey, and her fur was shaggy and lustreless. There was something sad, something defeated about her expression, like the look of a mother who has seen many of her children die before her. And her body appeared slack and worn out - the result of countless litters. Stiffly, shakily, she rose and climbed cautiously down from the tree stump.

'How do you know my name?'

As soon as I had asked this question I could have bitten my tongue off. How could I be so insensitive to a mother's feelings?

'Alcina!' I said half to myself, ashamed. 'She told you about me.'

'Of course,' replied the old queen, limping towards me down the path the Wild Ones standing around opened up for her. I might be wrong, but instinct told me I was the only male present. Normally that would be a very happy state of affairs, but on this occasion something about it made me stop and wonder.

'In fact she told us a lot about you. Particularly how keen you were to bring the Black Knight to justice. I am Aurelia, leader of the tribe, and Alcina was my favourite daughter until ... until that monster got her.'

'I have good reason to think the monster is really just a scarecrow and doesn't deceive anyone but the silliest sort of birds.'

'What do you mean, my son? I'm old, and I've lost my taste for clever riddles over the years.'

Since she obviously found it difficult even to keep on her feet, she dropped to the grass before my paws and stretched all her limbs feebly. As if that were an order admitting no contradiction, the army around her felt bound to do the same. They got down flat on the ground too. As they all fell simultaneously to their knees they looked like a circus tent crumpling up. Hundreds of glowing green eyes shone at me from inquisitive faces, and the graceful bodies on which these faces rested made the softest, most beautiful carpet I'd ever seen.

'Before I explain, Aurelia, let me offer you and your tribe my sincere condolences on the death of Alcina. I don't know just what she told you about me, dear sisters, but you should know that in the few minutes we spent together I loved her more than anything in the world. And that love will have been enough. Love doesn't even need a memento: there's a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge between them is love - the only thing that remains, the only thing that makes sense. I hope the creature who brought her life to such a terrible end may never know peace of mind again, either in life or in death!'

A solicitous flicker showed in all those green eyes, as if a stern verdict had been pronounced.

'Now for my question, Aurelia: do you know what animal used to be kept in this jumbo cage?'

'Aren't the animals humans keep in cages always the dangerous sort, my son?'

'No, not always. They often keep valuable animals in captivity too. So which kind was it?'

'We don't know. We value this place as a nice private camping site, and it was already in ruins when we found it. Perhaps the valuable animal ate its keepers up one day and escaped.'

'Well, it must have been very powerful anyway, if it needed such a large run. And I wonder why the cage is in the middle of the forest, as if to hide what it held.'

'Experiments, Francis. Humans carry out experiments on animals and even on themselves. Why, you could say our centuries of suffering are the result of an experiment made by mankind on nature - an unsuccessful one, of course.'

'Have you ever seen any such dangerous animal here in the forest?'

'Oh yes. Usually carrying a camera and singing cheerful walking songs.'

She cackled with laughter, and her tribe obediently joined in. As the old lady laughed her open mouth showed battered, broken teeth with many gaps in them. Usually one of our kind with such bad teeth can't even catch insects, but I assumed the others hunted for her and served up her dinner.

'OK, then let's talk a little about the apparition of the Black Knight,' I said hastily, because I suddenly felt it was me they were mocking. 'Ambrosius, who tells me he and you are friends, and yours truly here have been making some inquiries and come to some very unsatisfactory conclusions. To all appearances not a single witness has ever seen Crazy Hugo and the mastiff going about their murderous business. In fact even the existence of the two criminals is a matter of heated debate. One bright little fellow suggested that someone could be putting on a clever masquerade to boost the legend. But I can't think why?'

'Who suggested that?'

The old queen's weak eyes looked round at her daughters,

granddaughters and other female relations in amusement, as if to make sure they shared the joke. And as if at an agreed signal, open mockery appeared on their faces too. Everything I said seemed to amuse them mightily.

'You won't believe me, but this opinion was expressed by a shrew called ...'

'Zack!' she cried in hilarity, shaking her head with mock resignation as if I were a feeble-minded idiot who replied 'Thursday' when asked what the weather was like. 'It's remarkable that the pair of you managed to get into conversation at all with that know-all little stinker. He usually avoids our kind like the plague. He must have been in real trouble if he let you persuade him to talk.'

'I'll admit that my friend Ambrosius was about to do a little vivisection on Zack when he made his statement.'

'Ah, now we're getting warmer. Didn't your mother ever tell you that mice are born liars and will do anything to save their skins, Francis? Well, think about it: what's the word of a shrew worth when that shrew is in the clutches of two mousers and suddenly gets a chance to postpone death with a fanciful eyewitness account? You fell for a scam, my son! If you want to know the truth, then listen. We must bear some of the blame for Alcina's death ourselves. You see, we've been minding our own business for years. We even conned ourselves into believing nature doesn't make mistakes. Like all the forest creatures, we supposed the Black Knight was a part of the whole who had his uses and had simply found his niche, dubious as that niche might be. I myself was the chief proponent of this idea. As long as that black devil leaves us in peace, we thought, let him do - or not do - as he likes. We even felt some sympathy for his murderous craft, because we despised your kind, Francis. There was some envy in all this, and a great deal of arrogance. Now I have to acknowledge that I've grown old without growing wise. We've paid dearly for our short-sightedness. Only last night, when I learned of the torment in which my daughter died, did I realise that nature, shattered long ago by human agency, can not only make occasional mistakes, she can mass-produce them too. Our daily struggle for what little game remains in this forest is the best proof of it. But when Alcina told us about your accusations, we just laughed at her, and she ran off in a temper. However, the monster must have overheard us, and he meant to convince not just you but us as well of his supreme power by slaughtering Alcina.'

'Sounds reasonable,' I said, lying down myself; exhaustion and gnawing hunger pangs were beginning to take their toll of me. 'But there are so many inconsistencies about that figure, or rather those two figures, that I still feel inclined to entertain strong doubts of the legend. I bet I could roam this forest for years and never see the Black Knight and his mastiff except through thick banks of mist. At least, that seems to be the general rule, according to several eyewitness accounts.'

'Not as far as we're concerned,' replied the old queen, with that majestic expression on her face again. 'We've often met them close to - and anyway, we know where the Black Knight is right now.'

As if an adder had bitten me, I shot to my paws again and goggled at her in astonishment.

'You know where he is?'

'Of course. We know everything that goes on in the forest.'

'Where? Where is he, then?'

'In the Fossilised Forest.'

'Fossilised Forest? What do you mean?'

'You'll know what I mean once you get there. It's two kilometres to the north. You only have to leave this hut and follow your nose and you'll come to it. When the Black Knight isn't busy snuffing out lives, he and his dog hole up there in a cave behind a narrow crack in the rock. Now you're going to ask me how to find that rock. A few years ago, that would have been a good question. But anyone who knows the Fossilised Forest doesn't even need to ask it.'

'Aure
lia, I don't understand - if you and your tribe know where the brute is, why don't you go and pick him up?'

It was a sad smile that spread slowly over her ancient face this time, like something sluggish, indefinable and grey. Then she shook her head, lost in thought. All her confidence seemed to have ebbed away.

'There's no point any more, Francis,' she almost whispered. 'All the values that once served to maintain order have lost their meaning now. The apocalypse is near, my son. And the Black Knight is only a symbol of it. Revenge? What use would that be to anyone? Can revenge bring Alcina back to life? And suppose we did kill Hugo and the mastiff, would human beings stop committing mass murder of us animals, the so-called lower forms of life? Would anything about our situation really change? No, my son, we can only run away from mankind. But where to? Man is everywhere. However, I must pursue the last glimmer of hope, because I'm responsible for my tribe. That's why we're setting off for Scandinavia tonight. Ambrosius says things are a little better there. A likely story!'

I was baffled myself now. I just couldn't find the words to convince them that the Black Knight must be executed. Aurelia was right. What difference would two slaughterers dropping out of a vast abattoir make? Bogged down in the details, I'd lost sight of the wider view. It was a mistake I shouldn't have made, because unlike many of my contemporaries I knew just what went on behind the façade of silent acquiescence. I knew that in our country, in the last twelve years alone, seventy million animals had been sawn to bits, scalded, dipped in burning liquids, stitched to each other, pickled in cigarette smoke, injected with pus - and they were always killed in the end. I knew that turtles were slit open alive, horses and pigs stacked almost on top of each other and driven in lorries right across Europe, going without water for days on end; I knew chickens in battery farms lived in an area of two hundred square centimetres and were condemned to eternal egg-laying; I knew a hundred and fifty chinchillas were slaughtered to make a single fur coat, and millions upon millions of animals were pursued, mutilated and murdered by hunters. I knew all that, and yet I'd been chasing a couple of criminals like a dutiful policeman in a totalitarian state where millions are eliminated without a word. What a joke!