Journey to Eden
Copyright© 2017 by Friar Tuck
Chapter 8: The way is blocked
There it was again, straight ahead. The mist parted, and the disk of the sun shone wanly through a thin layer of cloud. But that should not be! He was to travel a day’s journey to the north. But here he was, again, veering straight west, as if something, or someone was physically resisting his progress northward. He forced himself to turn to his right, to seek a pathway through the gorse that opposed him, but he could not find a place. The only way that opened itself to him lay to his left, toward the setting sun.
Dann was not lost, could not be lost. He, like all the rest of the Group, had an innate knowledge of where he was, and of the direction he must travel to get back to where he’d been, but now he met with a resistance to that natural sense of place. No matter how he tried to maintain a northward course, he kept veering to the west. He had no idea how far to the west he had come, nor how far north he’d traveled before he’d missed direction.
He had spent a sleepless night in the tallest tree he could locate, and the night sounds he had heard made him wish it were twice as tall. He and the others had heard the screeching and hissing in the far-off depths of the swamp, and it had been increasing, as if they had been traveling toward it. Now it sounded as if they had arrived. He could hear what sounded like an argument between a troop of mad apes and the grandfather of snakes. Those noises apparently radiated from the very direction where he had volunteered to go!
But other sounds came also to his ears; perhaps smaller creatures generated them, but they sounded every bit as vicious, if not as ponderous as the bedlam from the north. Strangely, though, there was an underlying, almost disquieting rumble, that reminded him of the purring of the bobcat kept as a pet by one of the old hunters, back when he was a child. He quickly disregarded that comparison, though, as a cat that produced this particular guttural purring would have been difficult to envision. Still, the rumble was soothing in a way, especially since it seemed apparent that it was keeping the rest of the night creatures away. Nevertheless, Dann had spent a restless night.
The opening in the underbrush had seemed clear and safe enough, and he had probed with a long sapling he’d cut for that purpose. He was a little surprised that the expected eruption of birds or insects did not happen; usually a probe such as this would scare one or more of those out, at least. Something about that did stir a memory, but he disregarded it, and moved further into the brush in the direction he’d volunteered to explore. Fortunately, he had held on to the sapling, and again reached ahead with it, instead of simply moving the brush aside and pushing through. He wished, not for the first time, that he could understand and use that gift of “seeing” through the smaller wild creatures, that Tia had tried to explain to him. He could feel a sort of “tingling” when he tried it, but had not “seen” anything yet. Perhaps he would, in time.
He probed once more, poking through another dense patch that he could not see through. Suddenly, the probe was nearly yanked from his hand with force enough to take some skin with it, which stung, and began to ooze blood! He did not lose it completely, but another pull like that one would leave him empty handed. Then, as he tried to regain his footing, and his grip on the sapling, a face from a nightmare appeared in the opening!
Pasty gray in color, it sprouted sparse, coarse hairs, and out of it glared a single yellow eye, the mate of which had obviously been roughly gouged out. A huge mouth, displaying a number of lethal-appearing teeth, opened wide in a voiceless, but unmistakable snarl. The bushes on both sides began shaking violently, but silently; this apparition was not alone, but was accompanied by an overwhelming number of its fellows. Dann froze, preparing to thrust with his spear even as he realized it was still the sapling he held, and his spear arm was hindered by the surrounding brush.
He could not see any but the one terrifying, hate-filled visage, and he sensed, rather than heard, the same level of rage from similar hidden creatures on both sides of it. This surreal silence was the most frightening thing of all. As he struggled to bring his spear into play, the thing in front of him lowered its head as if preparing to attack.
Suddenly, from close behind Dann, the surrounding quiet was shattered by a sound that he thought surely announced the end of all things. He could not see the source of that ear-shattering roar, for it was behind him. But the threatening ugliness in front of him obviously could; he saw its eye open even wider and an unmistakable flash of fear crossed its ugly features. Two things happened then. There was more violent shaking in the brush as the creatures disappeared, and Dan tripped and fell over the haft of his spear, as he tried to turn to see what was behind him.
It was a confused young hunter indeed, who finally thrashed his way to his feet, and tried without success to identify or understand what had saved him. Warily, he searched for tracks, or other sign that might identify, or at least reveal, the thing that had frightened away his attacker. But the only visible evidence of what it might have been was the bruised foliage where something had stood. And now there was no sign at all of whatever those nightmare creatures had run from.
He considered his situation only for a moment, before making his decision. And he turned back, keeping an extremely watchful eye on his back trail. He could truly report that there was definitely no northward path to safety here.
In seconds, Tia disappeared into the brush surrounding the camp, where she quickly found the northward track that Dann had started on. There was his blaze mark, left to indicate to those who knew him, his identity and direction of travel. She was under no illusions that she had any chance to catch up with him, but she was restless, and could not stay cooped up in the camp any longer. So, promising herself that she would return before she was missed, she set out to see for herself, what Seth and Leana, and, yes, Tia herself had felt calling them. It had not been dreams, as such, just the nagging feeling that she had a task to perform, something that she needed to do. It was somehow related to her newfound skills, but she was at a loss to understand it. And now it was calling more urgently than ever.
She was still at a loss to understand too, why Dann could not seem to learn to “see” through animals and birds, nor why he could not hear, nor communicate non-verbally, as could she, Leana, and Seth. Aard was showing some ability in “seeing”, but then, he had always shown, as a very young child, a certain rapport with the wild creatures around them. Birds, and even ‘patches had seemed to sense that they were safe around him, and he had been picked on more than a few times, for the intricate cages he had fashioned for various small creatures. Unlike those of others in the Group, his cages had openings, but never had doors on them.
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