The Cats of Tanglewood Forest (13 page)

“All right, Mr. Fox,” she called out to it. “Or maybe you really are T. H. Reynolds. I don’t know and I don’t care. But you need to either stop following me or step out where I can see you.”

She wasn’t actually expecting a response, so when a voice spoke to her from the branches of the tree above her, she thought her heart would stop.

“Hey, little missy. Think you could keep it down?”

She felt as though she’d fallen back into her dream again, where creatures kept talking to her from trees. Looking up, she half expected to see the fox sitting up there on a branch—or at least Jack Crow.

The foliage was thick, and at first she didn’t see anyone. Then a shadow shifted, moving into a shaft of light, and she saw that there was a man up in the tree. He had a long face with a raggedy beard and a wrinkled brown hat pushing down on top of a mass of
straggly hair. His rangy frame was tucked into a crook between a couple of big branches and the trunk. A rifle lay across his knees.

“What are you
doing
up there?” Lillian asked, too surprised to be scared.

“Well, I was hunting until you came traipsing down the ridge making enough noise for a whole herd of little girls. Any game for a mile around is going to have been scared away.”

“I wasn’t making that much noise.”

“Oh, no? You walk like you weigh ten times your size. And then there was all that shouting. Somebody should have told you before this that a fox isn’t going to be tracking some little girl, and he sure enough isn’t going to answer your questions.”

Lillian flushed. All the fancies that the Creeks had put in her head washed away and she felt like a fool.

“I
know
that,” she said.

“Do you now.”

Lillian gave him a determined nod and changed the subject.

“What are you hunting?”

“I’ve got my sights set on a big panther. I’ve seen
him a time or two and decided to see if I can track him down. That pelt of his’ll fetch a handsome price.”

Maybe it was all dreams and fancies, but Lillian couldn’t help thinking about the things Jack Crow had told her.

“Do you mean the Father of Cats?” she almost whispered.

The man shrugged. “Well, now, he sure looks big and old enough to have been around since the beginning of time. But this isn’t some parlor-story fairy-tale cat. It’s just an any-old-day panther that keeps coming around my farm, looking to get at the calves.”

“You’ve really seen him?”

“I catch me a glimpse, time to time, but I never can get me a shot. He’s smart, that cat. Been around awhile—you can tell. But I can be patient.”

“Where’s your farm?” Lillian asked, wondering if he might know about the bear people.

He jerked his chin to the west, rather than north.

“Over yonder,” he said. “A couple of miles as the crow flies.” He chuckled. “Takes me a little longer to make the trip.”

“Do you ever see any bear around here?”

He shook his head. “I know there’s some higher
up in the hills, but they don’t much come down my way—leastwise, I don’t see any sign. Doesn’t really surprise me since there’s nothing for them. I don’t have an orchard or beehives or even a berry patch.”

Lillian couldn’t think of a way to ask about bear people without feeling more ridiculous.

“Well,” she said, “I’ve still got a-ways to go, so I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

“You never did say why you’re up this far into the hills.”

Lillian gave him a bright smile. “Talking to foxes,” she said.

“Ha, ha. But seriously, you’re awful young to be out on your own, this deep in the hills. Where do you live?”

Nowhere, Lillian thought. She didn’t have a home anymore. At least not until she figured out how to save Aunt’s farm. But that wasn’t anything she was about to tell a stranger.

“Back there a-ways,” she said, pointing.

Then she waved a hand and set off at a jaunty pace that wasn’t anything like she felt.

“You be dang careful!” the hunter called after her.

She waved again but didn’t look back.

Lillian expected the hunter to come down from his perch to follow after her, which would make him yet one more person who felt he should get to decide what she was supposed to do with her life. But she didn’t hear any ruckus. When she finally did hear something behind her a few minutes later, a quick glance showed her the plume of a fox’s tail disappearing behind a bush.

“Fine,” she said. “Go ahead and skulk along behind me. See if I care.”

She looked up in the tree she was passing under, half expecting someone to be sitting up there. Another hunter. Maybe some fairy-tale creature.
Somebody
with something to say that she didn’t particularly want to hear.

But the branches were empty, which made perfect sense. Hunters were busy with their own lives, and her life wasn’t a fairy tale. It was a sad mess and there wasn’t anything magical about it. There wasn’t anything magical anywhere at all.

Yes, Aunt Nancy was fairly spooky, but really.
Bear
people?

She stopped and sat down on the long trunk of
a fallen tree, ready to retrace her steps. Except that wouldn’t help, either. The Welches and school were waiting for her back there.

And going ahead would—what?

Well, it might get her eaten by a bear. Or a panther…

She sighed and looked back the way she’d come.

“What do you think, Mr. Fox?” she called to the empty woods. “Do you have any advice for me?”

Of course there was no reply.

Lillian went on despite her reservations. The game trail she followed through the sprucy-pine wound its
way in between tree trunks and stone outcrops softened with moss. She walked along the back of the ridge for miles, weariness starting to set in just when the ground started to rise again.

Hunger pangs reminded her that she’d skipped breakfast, and she was grateful that there was food in her pack. She stopped by a jumble of rock to have some cheese and fry bread, washing it down with water. When she was rested enough to continue, she stood up and left a small portion of cheese on the stone where she’d been sitting.

“That’s for you, Mr. Fox,” she said.

She hadn’t seen him for a while so she wasn’t even sure he was still on her trail.

Curiosity got the better of her, and thirty feet or so from where she’d left the cheese she ducked behind a big mossy stone, then slowly rose until she could peer over the top. She stayed as still as ever she had and, sure enough, a few minutes later the fox stepped into sight on dainty feet, his plume of a tail lifting behind him. He sniffed at the food, then snapped it up in one bite. His head came up and he looked around until his gaze found hers. She ducked down. When she looked back a moment later, he was gone.

The trail wound up the mountain until it finally opened into a small meadow. The afternoon was slipping away and she remembered Davy’s advice about finding a place to spend the night.

She crossed the meadow and the trail began its descent once more. The incline was steep and she had to hold on to saplings as she went down. As twilight finally crept over the forest she came to a small creek. A tall pine had recently fallen, forming
a bridge across the water. She drank from the creek and filled her canteen, then crossed over. She walked the length of the pine until it grew too narrow.

Follow the creek, John had told her. Well, she’d do that tomorrow.

Hopping down, she made herself a nest under the pine boughs. She rolled out her blanket and lay down. She thought about the fox and the hunter and the bears she might or might not meet tomorrow. Finally the long day caught up with her, and she fell fast asleep.

W
hen Lillian woke it was morning. She looked up through the pine boughs and smiled to hear the bird chorus. The scent of pine and the forest loam upon which she lay filled her nose, and for a long moment she was able to forget why she was out here in the forest.

Stretching lazily, she slipped out from under the fallen pine, pulling her gear after her. There was still plenty of water in her canteen, and the creek was only a hop, a skip, and a jump away, but her food sack was woefully lighter than it had been when
Mrs. Creek had given it to her. She rolled up her blanket and tied it with her carrying strap. It was only when she turned around that she discovered she was no longer alone.

A few feet away from where she’d slept under the boughs of the fallen pine was the biggest man she’d ever seen.