Scat Cat is back and very close to his objective...read along.

Chapter Six: Ups and Downs

Daylight was not far away when Hunter chanced upon a mist-covered meadow. There were several large shapes in the meadow, moving gracefully through the mist as they ate the grasses that filled the clearing. They had long willowy legs and fascinating brown and white ears that seemed to be constantly listening for unusual sounds. Some of the larger creatures had some sort of strange branches on their heads. From time to time they would look up and gaze across the field, turning their delicate heads in curiosity, inspecting the surrounding forest. Occasionally, one would raise its white tail like a flag and give a little start. Then the others would look up to confirm that everything was peaceful and feeding would resume. Hunter was entranced by the elegant creatures and wanted to make himself known, but felt very shy in their presence. He inched carefully from his hiding place until he was noticed by one of the beautiful creatures. The beautiful one came closer, stopping once or twice to sniff the air. Finally it stopped in front of Hunter, who bowed his head and said respectfully,

“Greetings to you. I mean you no harm, but only wish to know who you are. Your dignity makes me feel awkward and plain.”

The stranger studied the little cat with soft gentle eyes and finally answered, “ Please do not feel that way. Your People have their own grace and beauty that cannot be denied. You should never feel inferior to another creature.”

“I would thank you for the compliment, but I don’t know how you are named.”

“We are the Dancers and my name is Artemis.”

“Pardon me, but that name is strange to me. What does it mean?”

“I was named for the Goddess that protects Nature and all Wild Creatures. I feel very blessed to share Her name. As for the Dancers, we are members of a small group that live in this forest and meadow, seeking only food, shelter and families to share our lives. What is your quest, little one?”

“My name is Hunter and I too seek a family, but in a home of the Big Ones.”

With these words, Artemis raised her head and snorted in alarm. “Pardon me, Hunter. I know you mean us no harm, but soon, when the leaves begin to turn color, the Dancers will become the Hunted and it is the Big Ones who will be our pursuers.”

“Forgive me, Artemis, I didn’t mean to upset you. To me the Big Ones mean shelter and family. Why do they pursue your people?”

“For many reasons: for sport, as they call it, and for food. Yes, some that you see here will not live to see the next greening of the forest. It is the way of life and we have come to accept it, but it is very hard.”

Hunter was unaware of the tears starting to well up in his eyes. Artemis, however, noticed the little Cat’s distress and lowered her head down to Hunter’s.

“Hunter, you must not be sad. You yourself are a pursuer of other creatures, as others may pursue you. This is Nature’s way and you are blameless, as are all who must hunt for food. The Big Ones are not to be hated for their behavior. They too are as Nature made them. If it is your destiny to make your life with them, do not hesitate in your quest. Even Artemis, my namesake, is also the Goddess of the Hunt.”

“Thank you, Artemis. I think I understand now, and I will not be ashamed. Will you tell me more about yourself and the other Dancers?”

Just as Artemis was about to answer, one of the Dancers raised his white flag and snorted. The others came to attention. There was something moving in the distance and the Dancers began to flee. They disappeared into the forest with majestic leaps and bounds, and in a matter of seconds, the meadow was empty. The Dancers were gone, leaving Hunter to wonder if they had really been there at all.

Hunter crept back into his hiding place to observe whatever was coming. Daylight had arrived and Hunter could see dust billowing behind the unknown object, and hear an angry buzzing sound that was getting closer and closer. As the object came into view, Hunter could see it was a Big One, riding on top of a strange small Rumbler. The Rumbler bounced over the meadow and disappeared down a path leading into the forest.

“That was certainly an odd little Rumbler, but I think my next step should be to follow it, not too close of course. It’s probably still dangerous, even if it is small. The Big One is most likely going to his home, and that home could be the one for me.”

So Hunter made his way across the meadow and down the forest path. The way was easy to follow and the soft earth felt soothing on his tired paws. The resinous aroma of pine trees was somehow cheerful and his spirits began to rise. The forest path ended in an area of cropped grass and there sat the strange Rumbler, on the stony path of another white house. The Big One was nearby putting something into containers that Hunter knew were called trashcans.

Hunter crossed the grass and ventured up the stony path until he was only a few cat-lengths from the Big One. “Mew?” he said, hopefully. The Big One turned around and glared at Hunter, mumbling something in the Big One language. Hunter threw himself on the ground and rolled on his back, showing his trust and submission. To his surprise, the Big One didn’t accept his yielding gesture, but picked up the round metal lids to the cans and began slamming them together. The sharp metallic clash that resulted was so painful to poor Hunter’s ears that he jumped to his feet and fled as fast as his legs would carry him. Back down the stony path he tore, across the grass and into the forest, not stopping until he was totally out of breath. He really didn’t know exactly where he was, but at least it was quiet and peaceful. He made his way to a large pine tree and curled up at its base.

“What am I doing wrong?” he whimpered. “Is there something offensive about me? Why are the Big Ones so angry and aggravated when they see me? I’m beginning to think that I’ll never find a home.” Hunter was heartsick at the thought of being alone. The nights were beginning to get cooler and darkness was coming earlier every day. He looked at his tangled fur, full of sticky seeds and knew that his eye must look terrible too, since it was very itchy and watery all the time. “Just look at me! It’s no wonder that no one wants to take me in. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me either.”

(Now, it must be said that Hunter proceeded to have a good long cry and was feeling very sorry for himself, indeed. Perhaps we all would have felt the same in his shoes, well…paws. The world can be a very harsh place at times and this was definitely one of those times for Hunter.)

Gradually, his good sense took over and he began to think about cleaning himself up and what he should do next. He began pulling out the sticky seeds, and proceeded to wash his face, paying special attention to his eye. Just as he was about to trim his back toenails, a strange laughing noise came from the tree above him. He searched the branches overhead and finally saw the culprits, two Red Squirrels perched on a limb, looking very impertinent and very pleased with themselves.

“Chk, chk, chickaree. Who can that ground-rat be? Chk, chk, chk. Has he lost his way, chk, chk? Shall we throw some chr-chk at him?” What followed was a lot of chking and chacking and buzzing that was totally lost on Hunter. Then came a miniature shower of pine needles and small twigs and a lot more silly laughter. “Chk, chk, chickaree. I see the rat, but he can’t get me.”

Well, this insult was just too much for Hunter and up the tree he raced. The two Squirrels thought this was great fun and led Hunter on a merry chase through the tree until they finally reached the tiny branches at the very tip-top and gracefully leapt to a neighboring Maple tree. Hunter couldn’t follow, of course but sat down on a branch and had a good laugh, as he imagined how silly he must look.

“Okay, I give up. You’re right. I can’t catch you, so come closer so we can have a little chat and get to know one another.”

“Chk, chrrr, chrrr. The rat in the treetop must think we’re very stupid, chk, to fall for that old line. Chk, chk, chickaree. You’ll have to do better than that, you silly fat-rat Chk-Chak.”

“Now just hold on. I am very sincere and have no tricks up my paws. I really would like to talk to you. Why don’t you come just a little closer, to a spot where you still feel safe? I’ll go back down to the ground and swear an oath to Bast that I will not harm you.”

“Chickaree! You are persistent. I guess we could come a bit lower and chk-chat for a bit. What do you want from us? Directions, maybe? You certainly don’t act like you know much about the forest.”

“Well, I guess you’re right about that,” Hunter conceded. “I seem to have lost my bearings. Let me introduce myself. My name is Hunter and I’m looking for a home and a family. Do you know if there are any of the Big Ones near this forest who are friendly?”

“Well, chk, chk, we might. My name is Beechnut and this is my chk-friend, Acorn Redoak, but we just call him Bob. Sometimes we travel to a Big Ones’ nest where there is food… food for us Chkrs and food for the Flyers. Sometimes, even the Dancers go there to eat. We like to tease the Dancers. Chk, chk. They are so easy to trick. They are such splendid playmates!”

“That sounds like a good place for me to try. How do I get there? Is it far?”

“No, not far at all, as the Chkr jumps. From the top of this needle tree, just jump to the next sweet-juice tree. Then follow the berry trees till you come to the acorn tree…”

“Wait,” said Hunter. “That may be how you travel, but I can’t go by treetop. How will I follow your directions from the ground?”

Beechnut looked astounded at this question and turned to his friend. “Well, Bob, isn’t he the silliest Chk-Chak you’ve ever met? Aren’t they the same trees at the bottom as they are at the top, foolish Hunter? Chk, chk, chickaree.”

“Well…”said Hunter, “I guess that’s true, but sometimes you just can’t go from tree to tree when you travel on foot. Things tend to get in the way, like big drop-offs and thorny bushes, and they tend to throw off your direction. The tops of the trees are also a whole lot bigger than the bottoms, you know.”

Beechnut and Bob whispered together for a bit, with lots of chks and chaks and chickarees thrown in. Finally they turned back to Hunter, and Bob made a suggestion.

“We are going to do you a favor. Since you seem so pitiful and helpless, the two of us will lead you from the treetops. We will just jump and chk our way along and you can follow our voices. Do you grasp my meaning, Chk-Chak?”

“Wow, you two are definitely smarter than you look. That’s a great idea, as long as you don’t go too fast. Please remember that I may have to travel over or under some obstacles. And in appreciation of your help, I promise to try and help you if I can, maybe when you need it the most.”

“Don’t make promises that you can’t keep, Chk-Chak, but we thank you for the thought.”

So the peculiar journey began, Beechnut and Bob chking their way along the treetops and Hunter listening and following from below. There were a few setbacks along the way and once Hunter fell into a ditch, since he wasn’t watching his step, but watching his two silly friends, laughing in the treetops.

“Wait! Let’s stop for a minute,” panted Hunter. “I’ve got to get myself out of this hole and rest a bit. Don’t you two ever get hungry or thirsty? Well, I happen to be both. There is some fresh smelling water over here and maybe a tasty morsel for my lunch.”

“Ooh, you horrid Chk-Chak! Here we are helping you and you’re going to kill something, maybe one of our relatives. This just might be the end of a beautiful friendship,” said Beechnut, absolutely sputtering with indignation.

“Who said anything about killing your relatives? There just happen to be some very nutritious plants here that will do very well for a quick lunch.”

“I apologize, Hunter. I’m just not used to trusting any of your kind. Go ahead with your lunch. Bob and I will snack on some of these toothsome nut-chks. Let’s not wait too long though, the Big Ones’ nest is not far from here and they probably have some sort of delicacy for us to eat, maybe some of that smooth creamy nut-chk stuff. Yum-chk!”

“I’m ready when you are. Lead on, my nutty friends. The sooner we get there, the sooner I’ll know if it’s the right place for me. So far, I haven’t had much luck, but maybe this time will be different.”

On they went, until Bob and Beechnut stopped in the top of a tall maple tree and became very excited. “Look. Look. Chk, chk! There is the nest and they do indeed have some yum-chk. We’ll be leaving you now Hunter, the food and fun awaits. I’m sure you can find your way from here, even if you can’t find your tail with both paws. Good luck, Chk-Chak and may this be the place you seek."

“Good-bye, my trustworthy guides. You were a great help even if you were somewhat of a hindrance, too. If I make my home here, I may see you again, but if not, may your nests be warm and well-stocked with yum-chk.”

As the two Squirrels scampered off, Hunter decided to change his tactics of approach. Instead of just rushing up to the Big Ones, this time he would stay in hiding and observe them from a distance. Perhaps their behavior would let him know if he might be welcome. He walked cautiously until he came to the cropped grass that surrounded the house.

“Hmmm,” he said to himself. “This house is not white, but the same color as the Dancers. Maybe that is a good sign. I certainly haven’t had any luck with white houses. I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself.” So Hunter began his surveillance from the cover of some tall grass. There were plenty of the Flyers around, eating seeds, and drinking and washing up at a small pond with a tinkling waterfall. Bob and Beechnut were clinging to an odd metal branch, feasting on something that seemed to put them into a state of ecstasy.

“Well,” thought Hunter, “it certainly looks like they welcome the animals here. Only time will tell if they welcome me.” He waited till he began to feel drowsy, but there were no Big Ones to be seen. He must have nodded off, for he dreamt again of his Mother singing. Then the singing changed and Hunter awoke to a sound he had never heard before. It was the voice of a Big One, but gently soft and lyrical. The words were being repeated in the most lovely mannerelf hidden. He could tell there was a clearing ahead, so he crouched down and stealthily inched his way to an opening in the bushes. As he peered out of his hiding place, his eyes took in a strange and enchanting scene. It seemed like something from a dream, half remembered and just waiting to become reality.

In the clearing was one of the Big Ones, but much smaller than any Hunter had ever seen. The fur on its head was tied up in two bright strings and its face was round and smooth, glowing with health and merriment.

“I think I’ll have to call this a ‘Little One’. It looks very soft and innocent and its voice is very soothing. That is a strange moving perch that the Little One is using. It seems to be attached to some long vines, hanging from that tree. The Little One looks and sounds very happy moving back and forth like that. How unusual.”

Hunter’s Little One was, indeed, a little girl in a swing, and as she pumped her legs and glided up and down she was singing a song that went something like this:

“My Swing, Oh my Swing, in the apple tree,

Carry me high as the flight of the Bee.

Carry me low as the brook, running free.

My Swing, Oh my Swing, in the apple tree.”

Hunter was entranced by the whole image and was just about to make himself known, when a voice called out from the house.

“Sophie. Sophie?”

The Little One jumped from her seat and ran toward the voice, leaving Hunter feeling more lonesome than ever, but also quite hopeful.