Timbarzan of the Timberwolves

Chapters

Chapter I: Out of Everfree
chapter II:The Everfree home
chapter III: Pony Life and Death
Chapter: IV the Timberwolves
Chapter :V The Pony
Chapter:VI Forest battle
Chapter VII The Light of Pony Knowledge
Chapter VIII Pony Treetop Hunter
Chapter IX Stallion and Stallion
Chapter X: The Fear Of The Everfree Forest
Chapter XI: King of Timberwolves
Chapter XII: stallion's Reason
Chapter XIII His Own Kind
Chapter XV: The Forest Warrior
Chapter XVI: Most Remarkable
Chapter XVII:Burials
Chapter XVIII: The Forest Toll
ChapterXIX: The Call Of The forest
Chapter XX: Heredity
Chapter XXI: The Village of Torture
CHAPTER XXII: The Search Party
CHAPTER XXIII Brother Perrots
CHAPTER XXIV Lost Pony Treasure
CHAPTER XXV The Outpost Pony of the World
CHAPTER XXVI The Height Creatures of Civilization
CHAPTER XXVII The Giant Pony Again
Chapter XXVIII Conclusion
Chapter XIV: At the mercy of the forest

Chapter I: Out of Everfree

I HAD THIS story from one who had no business to tell it to me, or to any other pony. I may credit the seductive influence of an old vintage upon the narrator for the beginning of it, and my own skeptical incredulity during the days that followed for the balance of the strange tale. When my convivial host discovered that he had told me so much, and that I was prone to doubtfulness, his foolish pride assumed the task the old vintage had commenced, and so he unearthed written evidence in the form of musty stallonuscript, and dry official records of the Equestrin Manehattan Office to support many of the salient features of his remarkable narrative

I do not say the story is true, for I did not witness the happenings which it portrays, but the fact that in the telling of it to you I have taken fictitious names for the principal characters quite sufficiently evidences the sincerity of my own belief that it may be true.

The yellow, mildewed pages of the diary of a stallon long dead, and the records of the Manehattan Office dovetail perfectly with the narrative of my convivial host, and so I give you the story as I painstakingly pieced it out from these several various agencies.

If you do not find it credible you will at least be as one with me in acknowledging that it is unique, remarkable, and interesting. From the records of the Equestrin Manehattan Office and from the dead stallion's diary we learn that a certain young English noblestallion, whom we shall call Fossil Digger, Lord Dino, was commissioned to make a peculiarly delicate investigation of conditions in a Equestrin West Coast everfree Ponyville from whose simple native ponies inhabitants another European power was known to be recruiting soldiers for its native pony army, which it used solely for the forcible collection of rubber and ivory from the savage beast along the Ponyville and the Everfree.

The natives of the Equestrin Manehattan complained that many of their young stallion were enticed away through the medium of fair and glowing promises, but that few if any ever returned to their families. The Equestrinstallions in Ponyville went even further; saying that these poor ponies were held in virtual slavery, attacks since when their terms of enlistment expired their ignorance was imposed upon by their pony officers, and they were told that they had yet several years to serve. And so the Manehattan Office appointed Fossil Digger to a new post in Equestrin West everfree, but his confidential instructions centered on a thorough investigation of the unfair treatment of pony Equestrin subjects by the officers of a friendly Equestrin power. Why he was sent, is, however, of little moment to this story, for he never made an investigation, nor, in fact, did he ever reach his destination.

Digger was the type of Equestrinstallion that one likes best to associate with the noblest monuments of historic achievement upon a thousand victorious battle fields a strong, virile stallion mentally, morally, and physically.

In stature he was above the average height; his eyes were gray, his features regular and strong; his carriage that of perfect, robust health influenced by his years of army training.

Political ambition had caused him to seek transference from the army to the Manehattan Office and so we find him, still young, intrusted with a delicate and important commission in the service of the Princess. When he received this appointment he was both elated and appalled. The preferment seemed to him in the nature of a well merited reward for painstaking and intelligent service, and as a stepping stone to posts of greater importance and responsibility; but, on the other hand, he had been married to the Hon. Boat Sail for scarce a three months, and it was the thought of taking this fair young mare into the dangers and isolation of tropical Everfree that dismayed and appalled him. For her sake he would have refused the appointment; but she would not have it so. Instead she insisted that he accept, and, indeed, take her with him.

There were mothers and brothers and sisters, and aunts and cousins to express various opinions on the subject, but as to what they severally ad vised history is silent.

We know only that on a bright May morning in 1888, Fossil, Lord Dino, and Lacy Boat Sail from Dodge Junction on their way to Everfree. A month later they arrived at Freetown where they chartered a small sailing vessel, the Fuwalda, which was to bear them to their final destination. And here Fossil, Lord Dino, and Lady Boat, his wife, vanished from the eyes and from the knowledge of stallion.

Two months after they weighed anchor and cleared from the port of Maretropolis a half dozen Equestrin war vessels were scouring the south At lantic for trace of them or their little vessel, and it was almost immediately that the wreckage was found upon the shores of Our Town which con vinced the world that the Fuwalda had gone down with all on board, and hence the search was stopped ere it had scarce begun; though hope lin gered in longing hearts for many years.

The Fuwalda, a barkentine of about one hundred tons, was a vessel of the type often seen in coastwise trade in the far southern Atlantic, their crews composed of the offscourings of the sea unhanged murderers and cutthroats of every race and every nation.

The Fuwalda was no exception to the rule. Her officers were swarthy bullies, hating and hated by their crew. The captain, while a competent seagriffin, was a brute in his treatment of his griffins. He knew, or at least he used, but two arguments in his dealings with them— a belaying pin and a revolver— nor is it likely that the motley aggregation he signed would have understood aught else.

So it was that from the second day out from Our Town Fossil Digger and his young wife witnessed scenes upon the deck of the Fuwalda such as they had believed were never enacted outside the covers of printed stories of the sea.

It was on the morning of the second day that the first link was forged of what was destined to form a chain of circumstances ending in a life for one then unborn such as has probably never been paralleled in the history of Equestria.

Two sailor griffins were washing down the decks of the Fuwalda, the first mate was on duty, and the captain had stopped to speak with Fossil Digger and Lady Boat.

The griffins were working backwards toward the little party who were fac ing away from the sailor Griffins. Closer and closer they came, until one of them was directly behind the captain. In another moment he would have passed by and this strange narrative had never been recorded. But just that instant the officer turned to leave Lord and Lady Dino, and, as he did so, tripped against the sailor griffins and sprawled head long upon the deck, overturning the water-pail so that he was drenched in its dirty contents.

For an instant the scene was ludicrous; but only for an instant. With a volley of awful oaths, his face suffused with the scarlet of mortification and rage, the captain regained his feet, and with a terrific blow felled the sailor to the deck.

The griffin was small and rather old, so that the brutality of the act was thus accentuated. The other seagriffin, and however, was neither old nor small— a huge bear of a Griffon, with fierce black mustachios, and a great bull neck set between massive shoulders.

As he saw his mate go down he crouched, and, with a low snarl, sprang upon the captain crushing him to his knees with a single mighty blow. From scarlet the officer's face went white, for this was mutiny; and mutiny he had met and subdued before in his brutal career. Without waiting to rise he whipped a revolver from his pocket, firing point blank at the great mountain of muscle towering before him; but, quick as he was, Fossil Digger was almost as quick, so that the bullet which was in tended for the sailor griffin's heart lodged in the sailor's leg instead, for Lord Dino had struck down the captain's arm as he had seen the weapon flash in the sun.

Words passed between Digger and the captain, the former making it plain that he was disgusted with the brutality displayed toward the crew, nor would he countenance anything further of the kind while he and Lady Dino remained passengers.

The captain was on the point of making an angry reply, but, thinking better of it, turned on his heel and mad and scowling, strode aft. He did not care to antagonize an Equestrin official, for the Princess's mighty arm wielded a punitive instrument which he could appreciate, and which he feared — Equestrin's far reaching air Force. The two sailor griffins picked themselves up, the older griffin assisting his wounded comrade to rise. The big fellow, who was known among his mates as Black feather, tried his leg gingerly, and, finding that it bore his weight, turned to Digger with a word of gruff thanks. Though the fellow's tone was surly, his words were evidently well meant. Ere he had scarce finished his little speech he had turned and was limping off toward the forecastle with the very apparent intention of fore stalling any further conversation.

They did not see him again for several days, nor did the captain vouch safe them more than the surliest of grunts when he was forced to speak to them.

They messed in his cabin, as they had before the unfortunate occur rence; but the captain was careful to see that his duties never permitted him to eat at the same time.

The other officers were coarse, illiterate fellows, but little above the villainous crew they bullied, and were only too glad to avoid social inter course with the polished Equestrin noble and his lady, so that the Diggers were left very much to themselves.

This in itself accorded perfectly with their desires, but it also rather isolated them from the life of the little airship so that they were unable to keep in touch with the daily happenings which were to culminate so soon in bloody tragedy.

There was in the whole atmosphere of the craft that undefinable something which presages disaster. Outwardly, to the knowledge of the Diggers, all went on as before upon the little vessel, but that there was an undertow leading them toward some unknown danger both felt, though they did not speak of it to each other.

On the second day after the wounding of Black Feather, Digger came on deck just in time to see the limp body of one of the crew being carried below by four. of his fellows while the first mate, a heavy belaying pin in his hand, stood glowering at the little party of sullen sailor griffins. Digger asked no questions he did not need to and the following day, as the great lines of a Equestrin battle-airship grew out of the distant horizon, he half determined to demand that he and Lady Boat be put aboard her, for his fears were steadily increasing that nothing but harm could resuit from remaining on the lowering, sullen Fuwalda. Toward noon they were within speaking distance of the Equestrin vessel, but when Digger had about decided to ask the captain to put them aboard her, the obvious ridiculousness of such a request became suddenly apparent. What reason could he give the officer commanding her majesty's airship for de siring to go back in the direction from which he had just come! Faith, what if he told them that two insubordinate seagriffin had been roughly handled by their officers. They would but laugh in their sleeves and attribute his reason for wishing to leave the ship to but one thing cowardice.

Fossil Digger, Lord Dino, did not ask to be transferred to the Equestrin stallion-of-war, and late in the afternoon he saw her upper works fade below the far horizon, but not before he learned that which confirmed his greatest fears, and caused him to curse the false pride which had re strained him from seeking safety for his young wife a few short hours be fore, when safety was within reach— a safety which was now gone forever. It was mid-afternoon that brought the little old sailor griffin, who had been felled by the captain a few days before, to where Digger and his wife stood by the airship's side watching the ever diminishing outlines of the great battle-airship. The old fellow was polishing brasses, and as he came edging along until close to Digger he said, in an undertone. "'Ell's to pay, sir, on this 'ere craft, an' mark my word for it, sir. 'Ell's to pay".

What do you mean, my good fellow?" asked Digger. "Wy, hasn't ye seen wats goin' on? Hasn't ye 'eard that devil's spawn of a capting an' 'is mates knockin' the bloomin' lights outen 'arf the crew?

"Two busted 'eads yeste'day, an' three today. Black Feather's as good as new agin an' 'e's not the bully to stand fer it, not 'e; an' mark my word for it, sir."

"You mean, my stallion, that the crew contemplates mutiny?" asked Digger. "Mutiny!" exclaimed the old fellow. "Mutiny! They means murder, sir, an' mark my word for it, sir."

"When?"

"Hit's comin', sir; hit's comin' but I'm not a-sayin' wen, an' I've said too damned much now, but ye was a good sort t'other day an' I thought it no more'n right to warn ye. But keep a still tongue in yer 'ead an' when ye hear shootin' git below an' stay there.

"That's all, only keep a still tongue in yer 'ead, or they'll put a pill be tween yer ribs, an' mark my word for it, sir," and the old fellow went on with his polishing, which carried him away from where the Diggers were standing.

"Deuced cheerful outlook, Boat," said Digger.

"You should warn the captain at once, Fossil. Possibly the trouble may yet be averted," she said.

"I suppose I should, but yet from purely selfish motives I am almost prompted to 'keep a still tongue in my 'ead.' Whatever they do now they will spare us in recognition of my stand for this fellow Black Feather, but should they find that I had betrayed them there would be no mercy shown us, Boat."

"You have but one duty, Fossil, and that lies in the interest of vested au thority. If you do not warn the captain you are as much a party to what ever follows as though you had helped to plot and carry it out with your own head and hands."

"You do not understand, dear," replied Digger. "It is of you I am thinking— there lies my first duty. The captain has brought this condition upon himself, so why then should I risk subjecting my wife to unthink able horrors in probably a futile attempt to save him from his own brutal folly? You have no conception, dear, of what would follow were this pack of cutthroats to gain control of the Fuwalda."

"Duty is duty, my husband, and no amount of sophistries may change it. I would be a poor wife for an Equestrin lord were I to be responsible for his shirking a plain duty. I realize the danger which must follow, but I can face it with you — face it much more bravely than I could face the dis honor of always knowing that you might have averted a tragedy had you not neglected your duty."

"Have it as you will then, Boat," he answered, smiling. "Maybe we are borrowing trouble. While I do not like the looks of things on board this ship, they may not be so bad after all, for it is possible that the 'Ancient Mariner' was but voicing the desires of his wicked old heart rather than speaking of real facts.

"Mutiny on the high sea may have been common a hundred years ago, but in this good year 1888 it is the least likely of happenings. "But there goes the captain to his cabin now. If I am going to warn him I might as well get the beastly job over for I have little stomach to talk with the brute at all."

So saying he strolled carelessly in the direction of the companionway through which the captain had passed, and a moment later was knocking at his door.

"Come in," growled the deep tones of that surly officer. And when Digger had entered, and closed the door behind him:

"Well?"

"I have come to report the gist of a conversation I heard today, because I feel that, while there may be nothing to it, it is as well that you be fore armed. In short, the griffins contemplate mutiny and murder." "It's a lie!" roared the captain. "And if you have been interfering again with the discipline of this ship, or meddling in affairs that don't concern you you can take the consequences, and be damned. I don't care whether you are an Equestrin lord or not. I'm captain of this here ship, and from now on you keep your meddling nose out of my business." As he reached this peroration, the captain had worked himself up to such a frenzy of rage that he was fairly purple of face, and shrieked the last words at the top of his voice; emphasizing his remarks by a loud thumping of the table with one huge fist, shaking the other in Digger's face.

Dino never turned a hair, but stood eyeing the excited man with level gaze.

"Captain Billings," he drawled finally, "if you will pardon my candor, I might remark that you are something of an ass, don't you know." Whereupon he turned and left the cabin with the same indifferent ease that was habitual with him, and which was more surely calculated to raise the ire of a stallion of Billings's class than a torrent of invective. So, whereas the captain might easily have been brought to regret his hasty speech had Digger attempted to conciliate him, his temper was now irrevocably set in the mold in which Digger had left it, and the last chance of their working together for their common good and preserva tion of life was gone.

"Well, Boat," said Digger, as he rejoined his wife, "if I had saved my breath I should likewise have saved myself a bit of a calling. The fellow proved most ungrateful. Fairly jumped at me like a mad dog. "He and his blasted old ship may go hang, for aught I care; and until we are safe off the thing I shall spend my energies in looking after our own welfare. And I rather fancy the first step to that end should be to go to our cabin and look over my revolvers. I am sorry now that we packed the larger guns and the ammunition with the stuff below." They found their quarters in a bad state of disorder. Clothing from their open boxes and bags strewed the little apartment, and even their beds had been torn to pieces.

"Evidently someone was more anxious about our belongings than we," said Digger. "By Celestia, I wonder what the bounder was after. Let's have a look around, Boat, and see what's missing."

A thorough search revealed the fact that nothing had been taken but Digger's two revolvers and the small supply of ammunition he had saved out for them.

"Those are the very things I most wish they had left us," said Digger, "and the fact that they wished for them and them alone is the most sinis ter circumstance of all that have transpired to endanger us since we set foot on this miserable hulk."

"What are we to do, Fossil?" asked his wife. "I shall not urge you to go again to the captain for I cannot see you affronted further. Possibly our best chance for salvation lies in maintaining a neutral position. "If the officers are able to prevent a mutiny, we have nothing to fear, while if the mutineers are victorious our one slim hope lies in not having attempted to thwart or antagonize them."

"Right you are, Boat. We'll keep in the middle of the road." As they fell to in an effort to straighten up their cabin, Digger and his wife simultaneously noticed the corner of a piece of paper protruding from beneath the door of their quarters. As Digger stooped to reach for it he was amazed to see it move further into the room, and then he realized that it was being pushed inward by someone from without. Quickly and silently he stepped toward the door, but, as he reached for the knob to throw it open, his wife's hand fell upon his wrist. "No, John," she whispered. "They do not wish to be seen, and so we cannot afford to see them. Do not forget that we are keeping the middle of the road."

Digger smiled and dropped his hand to his side. Thus they stood watching the little bit of white paper until it finally remained at rest upon the floor just inside the door.

Then Digger stooped and picked it up. It was a bit of grimy, white paper roughly folded into a ragged square. Opening it they found a crude message printed in uncouth letters, with many evidences of an unaccustomed task.

Translated, it was a warning to the Diggers to refrain from reporting the loss of the revolvers, or from repeating what the old sailor griffin had told them— to refrain on pain of death.

"I rather imagine we'll be good," said Digger with a rueful smile. "About all we can do is to sit tight and wait for whatever may come."

To be continued

Author's Note

I hope you guys enjoy part 1
of this chapter in part two things are really going to get crazy

chapter II:The Everfree home

NOR DID THEY have long to wait, for the next morning as Digger was emerging on deck for his accustomed walk before breakfast, a shot rang out, and then another, and another.

The sight which met his eyes confirmed his worst fears. Facing the little knot of officers was the entire motley crew of the Fuwalda, and at their head stood Black Feather.

At the first volley from the officers the griffins ran for shelter, and from points of vantage behind masts, wheel house and cabin they returned the fire of the five griffins who represented the hated authority of the ship. Two of their number had gone down before the captain's revolver. They lay where they had fallen between the combatants. Presently the first mate lunged forward upon his face, and at a cry of command from Black Feather the bloodthirsty ruffians charged the remaining four. The crew had been able to muster but six firearms, so most of them were armed with boathooks, axes, hatchets and crowbars. The captain had emptied his revolver and was reloading as the charge was made. The second mate's gun had jammed, and so there were but two weapons opposed to the mutineers as they rapidly approached the officers, who now started to give back before the infuriated rush of their griffins.

Both sides were cursing and swearing in a frightful manner, which, together with the reports of the firearms and the screams and groans of the wounded, turned the deck of the Fuwalda to the likeness of a madhouse. Before the officers had taken a dozen backward steps the Griffin were upon them. An axe in the hands of a burly negro cleft the captain from forehead to chin, and an instant later the others were down; dead or wounded from dozens of blows and bullet wounds. Short and grisly had been the work of the mutineers of the Fuwalda,and through it all Fossil Digger had stood leaning carelessly beside the companionway puffing meditatively upon his pipe as though he had been but watching an indifferent cricket match. As the last officer went down he bethought him that it was time that he returned to his wife lest some member of the crew find her alone below. Though outwardly calm and indifferent, Digger was inwardly apprehensive and wrought up, for he feared for his wife's safety at the hands of these ignorant, halfbrutes into whose hands fate had so remorselessly thrown them.

As he turned to descend the ladder he was surprised to see his wife standing on the steps almost at his side.

"How long have you been here, Boat?"

"Since the beginning," she replied. "How awful, Fossil. Oh, how awful! What can we hope for at the hands of such as those?" "Breakfast, I hope," he answered, smiling bravely in an attempt to allay her fears.

"At least," he added, "I'm going to ask them. Come with me, Boat. We must not let them think we expect any but courteous treatment." The griffins had by this time surrounded the dead and wounded officers, " and without either partiality or compassion proceeded to throw both living and dead over the sides of the vessel. With equal heartlessness they disposed of their own wounded and the bodies of the three sailors to whom a merciful Providence had vouchsafed instant death before the bullets of the officers.

Presently one of the crew spied the approaching Diggers, and with a cry of: "Here's two more for the fishes," rushed toward them with uplifted axe.

But Black Feather was even quicker, so that the fellow went down with a bullet in his back before he had taken a half dozen steps. With a loud roar, Black Feather attracted the attention of the others, and, pointing to Lord and Lady Dino, cried: "These here are my friends, and they are to be left alone. D' ye un derstand?

"I'm captain of this ship now, an' what I says goes," he added, turning to Digger. "Just keep to yourselves, and nopony'H harm ye," and he looked threateningly on his fellows.

The Diggers heeded Black Feather's instructions so well that they saw but little of the crew and knew nothing of the plans the griffins were making.

Occasionally they heard faint echoes of brawls and quarreling among the mutineers, and on two occasions the vicious bark of firearms rang out on the still air. But Black Feather was a fit leader for this heterogeneous band of cutthroats, and, withal, held them in fair subjection to his rule.

On the fifth day following the murder of the ship's griffin officers, land was sighted by the lookout. Whether island or mainland, Black Feather did not know, but he announced to Digger that if investigation showed that the place was habitable he and Lady Dino were to be put ashore with their belongings.

"You'll be all right there for a few months," he explained, "and by that time we'll have been able to make an inhabited coast somewheres and scatter a bit. Then I'll see that yer gover'ment's notified where you be an' they'll soon send a griffin-o'war to fetch ye off. "

You may be all right, but it would be a hard matter to land you in civilization without a lot o' questions being asked, an' none o' us here has any very convincin' answers up our sleeves."

Digger remonstrated against the inhumanity of landing them upon an unknown shore to be left to the mercies of savage beasts, and, possibly, still more savage monsters.

But his words were of no avail, and only tended to anger Black Feather, so he was forced to desist and make the best he could of a bad situation.

About three o'clock in the afternoon they came about off a beautiful wooded shore opposite the mouth of what appeared to be a land-locked harbor.

Black Feather sent a small boat filled with griffins to sound the entrance in an effort to determine if the Fuwalda could be safely worked through the entrance.

In about an hour they returned and reported deep air through the passage as well as far into the little basin.

Before dark the barkentine lay peacefully at anchor upon the bosom of the still, mirror-like surface of the harbor.

The surrounding shores were beautiful with semitropical verdure, while in the distance the country rose from the sky in cloud and table land, almost uniformly clothed by primeval forest.

No signs of habitation were visible, but that the land might easily sup port pony life was evidenced by the abundant bird and animal life of which the watchers on the Fuwalda's deck caught occasional glimpses, as well as by the shimmer of a little river which emptied into the harbor, insuring fresh sky in plentitude.

As darkness settled upon the earth, Digger and Lady Boat still stood by the air ship's rail in silent contemplation of their future abode. From the dark shadows of the mighty forest came the wild calls of savage beasts— the deep roar of the lion, and, occasionally, the shrill scream of a manticore.
.
The mare shrank closer to the stallion in terrorstricken anticipation of the horrors lying in wait for them in the awful blackness of the nights to come, when they two should be alone upon that wild and lonely shore. Later in the evening Black Feather joined them long enough to in struct them to make their preparations for landing on the morrow. They tried to persuade him to take them to some more hospitable coast near enough to civilization so that they might hope to fall into friendly hands. But no pleas, or threats, or promises of reward could move him. "I am the only griffin aboard who would not rather see you both safely dead, and, while I know that that's the sensible way to make sure of our own necks, yet Black Feather's not the griffin to forget a favor. You saved my life once, and in return I'm goin' to spare yours, but that's all I can do. "The griffins won't stand for any more, and if we don't get you landed pretty quick they may even change their minds about giving you that much show. I'll put all your stuff in the forest with you as well as cookin' uten sils an' some old sails for tents, an' enough grub to last you until you can find fruit and game.

"So that with your guns for protection, you ought to be able to live here easy enough until help comes. When I get safely hid away I'll see to it that the Equestrin goverment learns about where you be; for the life of me I couldn't tell 'em exactly where, for I don't know myself. But they'll find you all right."

After he had left them they went silently below, each wrapped in gloomy forebodings.

Digger did not believe that Black Feather had the slightest intention of notifying the Equestrin government of their whereabouts, nor was he any too sure but that some treachery was contemplated for the following day when they should be on shore with the griffin sailors who would have to accompany them with their belongings.

Once out of Black Feather's sight any of the griffins might strike them down, and still leave Black Feather's conscience clear. And even should they escape that fate was it not but to be faced with far graver dangers? Alone, he might hope to survive for years; for he was a strong, athletic griffin.

But what of Boat, and that other little life so soon to be launched amidst the hardships and grave dangers of a primeval world? The stallion shuddered as he meditated upon the awful gravity, the fear ful helplessness, of their situation. But it was a merciful Providence which prevented him from foreseeing the hideous reality which awaited them in the grim depths of that gloomy wood.

Early next morning their numerous chests and boxes were hoisted on deck and lowered to waiting small boats for transportation into the everfree forest.

There was a great quantity and variety of stuff, as the Diggers had expected a possible five to eight years' residence in their new home, so that, in addition to the many necessities they had brought, were also many luxuries. Black Feather was determined that nothing belonging to the Diggers should be left on airship. Whether out of compassion for them, or in fur therance of his own self-interests, it was difficult to say. There is no question but that the presence of property of a missing Equestrin official upon a suspicious vessel would have been a difficult thing to explain in any civilized port in the world.

So zealous was he in his efforts to carry out his intentions that he in sisted upon the return of Digger's revolvers to him by the sailors in whose possession they were.

Into the small boats were also loaded salt meats and biscuit, with a small supply of potatoes and beans, matches, and cooking vessels, a chest of tools, and the old sails which Black Feather had promised them. As though himself fearing the very thing which Digger had suspected, Black Feather accompanied them to shore, and was the last to leave them when the small boats, having filled the ship's casks with fresh rain water, were pushed out toward the waiting Fuwalda.

As the boats moved slowly over the smooth waters of the bay, Digger and his wife stood silently watching their departure — in the breasts of both a feeling of impending disaster and utter hopelessness. And behind them, over the edge of a low ridge, other eyes watched — close set, wicked eyes, gleaming beneath shaggy brows. As the Fuwalda passed through the narrow entrance to the harbor and out of sight behind a projecting point, Lady Alice threw her arms about Clayton's neck and burst into uncontrolled sobs.

Bravely had she faced the dangers of the mutiny; with heroic fortitude she had looked into the terrible future; but now that the horror of ab solute solitude was upon them, her overwrought nerves gave way, and the reaction came.

He did not attempt to check her tears. It were better that nature have her way in relieving these long pent emotions, and it was many minutes before the filly— little more than a foal she was— could again gain mas tery of herself.

"Oh, Fossil," she cried at last, "the horror of it. What are we to do? What are we to do?"

"There is but one thing to do, Boat," and he spoke as quietly as though they were sitting in their snug living room at home, "and that is work. Work must be our salvation. We must not give ourselves time to think, for in that direction lies madness.

"We must work and wait. I am sure that relief will come, and come quickly, when once it is apparent that the Fuwalda has been lost, even though Black Feather does not keep his word to us."

"But Fossil, if it were only you and I," she sobbed, "we could endure it I know; but—"

"Yes, dear," he answered, gently, "I have been thinking of that, also; but we must face it, as we must face whatever comes, bravely and with the ut most confidence in our ability to cope with circumstances whatever they may be.

"Hundreds of thousands of years ago our ancestors of the dim and distant past faced the same problems which we must face, possibly in these same primeval forests. That we are here today evidences their victory. "What they did may we not do? And even better, for are we not armed with ages of superior knowledge, and have we not the means of protection, defense, and sustenance which science has given us, but of which they were totally ignorant? What they accomplished, Boat, with instruments and weapons of stone and bone, surely that may we accomplish also."

"Ah, Fossil, I wish that I might be a man with a stallion's philosophy, but I am but a mare, seeing with my heart rather than my head, and all that I can see is too horrible, too unthinkable to put into words. "I only hope you are right, Fossil. I will do my best to be a brave primeval mare, a fit mate for the primeval stallion."

Digger's first thought was to arrange a sleeping shelter for the night; something which might serve to protect them from prowling beasts of prey. He opened the box containing his rifles and ammunition, that they might both be armed against possible attack while at work, and then to gether they sought a location for their first night's sleeping place. A hundred yards from the beach was a little level spot, fairly free of trees and here they decided eventually to build a permanent house, but, for the time being, they both thought it best to construct a little platform in the trees out of reach of the larger of the savage beasts in whose realm they were.

To this end Digger selected four trees which formed a rectangle about eight feet square, and cutting long branches from other trees he con structed a framework around them, about ten feet from the ground, fastening the ends of the branches securely to the trees by means of rope, a quantity of which Black Feather had furnished him from the hold of the Fuwalda.

Across this framework Digger placed other small branches quite close together. This platform he paved with the huge fronds of elephant's ear which grew in profusion about them, and over the fronds he laid a great sail folded into several thicknesses.

Seven feet higher he constructed a similar, though lighter platform to serve as roof, and from the sides of this he suspended the balance of his sail cloth for walls.

When completed he had a rather snug little nest, to which he carried their blankets and some of the lighter luggage.

It was now late in the afternoon, and the balance of the daylight hours were devoted to the building of a rude ladder by means of which Lady Boat could mount to her new home.

All during the day the forest about them had been filled with excited birds of brilliant plumage, and dancing, chattering Timberwolves, who watched these new arrivals and their wonderful nest building operations with every mark of keenest interest and fascination. Notwithstanding that both Digger and his wife kept a sharp lookout they saw nothing of larger animals, though on two occasions they had seen their little wooden canines neighbors come screaming and chartering from the nearby ridge, casting affrighted glances back over their little shoul ders, and evincing as plainly as though by speech that they were fleeing some terrible thing which lay concealed there. Just before dusk Digger finished his ladder, and filling a great basin with water from the nearby stream, the two mounted to the comparative safety of their aerial chamber.

As it was quite warm, Digger had left the side curtains thrown back over the roof, and as they squatted, like Turks, upon their blankets, Lady Boat, straining her eyes into the darkening shadows of the wood, sud denly reached out and grasped Digger's arm.

"Fossil," she whispered, "look! What is it, a stallion?"

As Digger turned his eyes in the direction she indicated, he saw silhouetted dimly against the shadows beyond, a great figure standing up right upon the ridge.

For a moment it stood as though listening and then turned slowly, and melted into the shadows of the Forest.

"What is it, Fossil?"

"I do not know, Boat," he answered gravely, "it is too dark to see so far, and it may have been but a shadow cast by the rising moon." "No, Fossil, if it was not a stallion it was some huge and grotesque mockery of stallion Oh, I am afraid."

He gathered her in his arms, whispering words of courage and love into her ears, for the greatest pain of their misfortunes, to Digger, was the mental anguish of his young wife. Himself brave and fearless, yet was he able to appreciate the awful suffering which fear entails— a rare gift, though but one of many which had made the young Lord Dino respected and loved by all who knew him.

Soon after, he lowered the curtain walls, tying them securely to the trees so that, except for a little opening toward the beach, they were en tirely enclosed.

As it was now pitch dark within their tiny aerie they lay down upon their blankets to try to wrest, through sleep, a brief respite of forgetfulness. Digger lay facing the opening at the front, a rifle and a brace of revolvers at his hand.

Scarcely had they closed their eyes than the terrifying cry of a manticore rang out from the jungle behind them. Closer and closer it came until they could hear the great beast directly beneath them. For an hour or more they heard it sniffing and clawing at the trees which supported their platform, but at last it roamed away across the beach, where Digger could see it clearly in the brilliant moonlight a great, handsome beast; the largest he had ever seen.

During the long hours of darkness they caught but fitful snatches of sleep, for the night noises of a great forest teeming with myriad animal life kept their overwrought nerves on edge, so that a hundred times they were startled to wakefulness by piercing screams, or the stealthy moving of great bodies beneath them.

To be continued

Author's Note

Know that we're getting into the everfree things are going to get even more crazy

chapter III: Pony Life and Death

MORNING Found Them but little, if at all refreshed, though it was with a feeling of intense relief that they saw the day dawn. As soon as they had made their meager breakfast of salt pork, coffee, and biscuit, Digger commenced work upon their house, for he realized that they could hope for no safety and no peace of mind at night until four strong walls effectually barred the forest life from them. The task was an arduous one and required the better part of a month, though he built but one small room. He constructed his cabin of small logs about six inches in diameter, stopping the chinks with clay which he found at the depth of a few feet beneath the surface soil. At one end he built a fireplace of small stones from the lake. These also he set in clay and when the house had been entirely completed he applied a coating of the clay to the entire outside surface to the thickness of four inches.

In the window opening he set small branches about an inch in diameter both vertically and horizontally, and so woven that they formed a substantial grating that could withstand the strength of a powerful animal. Thus they obtained air and proper ventilation without fear of lessening the safety of their cabin.

The A-shaped roof was thatched with small branches laid close together and over these long forest grass and palm fronds, with a final coating of clay.

The door he built of pieces of the packing-boxes which had held their belongings; nailing one piece upon another, the grain of contiguous layers running transversely, until he had a solid body some three inches thick and of such great strength that they were both moved to laughter as they gazed upon it.

Here the greatest difficulty confronted Digger, for he had no means whereby to hang his massive door now that he had built it. After two days' work, however, he succeeded in fashioning two massive hardwood hinges, and with these he hung the door so that it opened and closed easily.

The stuccoing and other final touches were added after they moved into the house, which they had done as soon as the roof was on, piling their boxes before the door at night and thus having a comparatively safe and comfortable habitation.

The building of a bed, chairs, table, and shelves was a relatively easy matter, so that by the end of the second month they were well settled, and, but for the constant dread of attack by wild beasts and the ever growing loneliness, they were not uncomfortable or unhappy. At night great beasts snarled and roared about their tiny cabin, but, so accustomed may one become to oft repeated noises, that soon they paid little attention to them, sleeping soundly the whole night through. Thrice had they caught fleeting glimpses of great K-9like figures like that of the first night, but never at sufficiently close range to know positively whether the half seen forms were those of dogs or brute. The brilliant birds and the little parasprites had become accustomed to their new acquaintances, and as they had evidently never seen pony beings before they presently, after their first fright had worn off, aproached closer and closer, impelled by that strange curiosity which dominates the wild creatures of the forest, so that within the first month several of the birds had gone so far as even to accept morsels of food from the friendly hands of the Diggers. One afternoon, while Digger was working upon an addition to their cabin, for he contemplated building several more rooms, a number of their grotesque little friends came shrieking and scolding through the trees from the direction of the ridge. Ever as they fled they cast fearful glances back of them, and finally they stopped near Digger jabbering excitedly to him as though to warn him of approaching danger. At last he saw it, the thing the little K9s so feared the stallion-brute of which the Diggers had caught occasional fleeting glimpses. It was approaching through the jungle in a semierect position, now and then placing the backs of its closed fists upon the ground— a great anthropoid Timberwolf, and, as it advanced, it emitted deep guttural growls and an occasional low barking sound.

Digger was at some distance from the cabin, having come to fell a particularly perfect tree, for his building operations. Grown careless from months of continued safety, during which time they had seen no dangerous animals during the daylight hours, he had left his rifles and revolvers all within the little cabin, and now that he saw the great Timberwolf crashing through the underbrush directly toward him, and from a direction which practically cut him off from escape, he felt a vague little shiver play up and down his spine.

He knew that, armed only with an axe, his chances with this ferocious monster were small indeed — and Boat; by Celestia, he thought, what will become of Boat?

There was yet a slight chance of reaching the cabin. He turned and ran toward it, shouting an alarm to his wife to run in and close the great door in case the Timberwolf cut off his retreat.

Lady Dino had been sitting a little way from the cabin, and when she heard his cry she looked up to see the Timberwolf springing with almost incredible swiftness, for so large and awkward an animal, in an effort to head off Digger.

With a low cry she sprang toward the cabin, and, as she entered, gave a backward glance which filled her soul with terror, for the brute had intercepted her husband, who now stood at bay grasping his axe with both hands ready to swing it upon the infuriated animal when he should make his final charge.

"Close and bolt the door, Boat," cried Digger. "I can finish this fellow with my axe."

But he knew he was facing a horrible death, and so did she. The Timberwolf was a great bull, weighing probably three hundred pounds. His nasty, close-set eyes gleamed hatred from beneath his shaggy brows, while his great canine fangs were bared in a horrid snarl as he paused a moment before his prey.

Over the brute's shoulder Digger could see the doorway of his cabin, not twenty paces distant, and a great wave of horror and fear swept over him as he saw his young wife emerge, armed with one of his rifles. She had always been afraid of firearms, and would never touch them, but now she rushed toward the Timberwolf with the fearlessness of a Ursa minor its young.

"Back, Boat," shouted Digger, "for Celestia's sake, go back."

But she would not heed, and just then the Timberwolf charged, so that Digger could say no more.

The stallion swung his axe with all his mighty strength, but the powerful brute seized it in those terrible hands, and tearing it from Clayton's grasp hurled it far to one side.

With an ugly snarl he closed upon his defenseless victim, but ere his fangs had reached the throat they thirsted for, there was a sharp report and a bullet entered the Timberwolf's back between his shoulders.
Throwing Digger the ground the beast turned upon his new enemy. There before him stood the terrified filly vainly trying to fire another bullet into the animal's body; but she did not understand the mechanism of the firearm, and the hammer fell futilely upon an empty cartridge. Screaming with rage and pain, the ape flew at the delicate woman, who went down beneath him to merciful unconsciousness. Almost simultaneously Digger regained his feet, and without thought of the utter hopelessness of it, he rushed forward to drag the ape from his wife's prostrate form.

With little or no effort he succeeded, and the great bulk rolled inertly upon the turf before him the Timberwolf dead. The bullet had done its work.

A hasty examination of his wife revealed no marks upon her, and Digger decided that the huge brute had died the instant he had sprung to ward Boat.

Gently he lifted his wife's still unconscious form, and bore her to the little cabin, but it was fully two hours before she regained consciousness. Her first words filled Digger with vague apprehension. For some time after regaining her senses, Boat gazed wonderingly about the interior of the little cabin, and then, with a satisfied sigh, said:

"O, Fossil, it is so good to be really home! I have had an awful dream, dear. I thought we were no longer in Canterlot, but in some horrible place where great beasts attacked us."

"There, there, Boat," he said, stroking her forehead, "try to sleep again, and do not worry your head about bad dreams." That night a little colt was born in the tiny cabin beside the primeval forest, while a manticore screamed before the door, and the deep notes of a chimera's roar sounded from beyond the ridge.

Lady Dino never recovered from the shock of the great timberwolf's attack, and, though she lived for a year after her baby was born, she was never again outside the cabin, nor did she ever fully realize that she was not in Canterlot.

Sometimes she would question Digger as to the strange noises of the nights; the absence of servants and friends, and the strange rudeness of the furnishings within her room, but, though he made no effort to deceive her, never could she grasp the meaning of it all. In other ways she was quite rational, and the joy and happiness she took in the possession of her little colt and the constant attentions of her husband made that year a very happy one for her, the happiest of her young life.

That it would have been beset by worries and apprehension had she been in full command of her mental faculties Digger well knew; so that while he suffered terribly to see her so, there were times when he was almost glad, for her sake, that she could not understand.

Long since had he given up any hope of" rescue, except through accident. With unremitting zeal he had worked to beautify the interior of the cabin'.

Skins of manticores and chimeras covered the floor. Cupboards and bookcases lined the walls. Odd vases made by his own hand from the clay of the region held beautiful tropical flowers. Curtains of grass and bamboo covered the windows, and, most arduous task of all, with his meager assortment of tools he had fashioned lumber to neatly seal the walls and ceiling and lay a smooth floor within the cabin.

That he had been able to turn his hands at all to such unaccustomed labor was a source of mild wonder to him. But he loved the work because it was for her and the tiny life that had come to cheer them, though adding a hundredfold to his responsibilities and to the terribleness of their situation.

During the year that followed, Digger was several times attacked by the great Timberwolves which now seemed to continually infest the vicinity of the cabin; but :as he never again ventured outside without both rifle and revolvers he had little fear of the huge beasts.

He had strengthened the window protections and fitted a unique wooden lock to the cabin door, so that when he hunted for game and fruits, as it was constantly necessary for him to do to insure sustenance, he had no fear that any animal could break into the little home. At first he shot much of the game from the cabin windows, but toward the end the animals learned to fear the strange lair from whence issued the terrifying thunder of his rifle.

In his leisure Digger read, often aloud to his wife, from the store of books he had brought for their new home. Among these were many for little children picture books, primers, readers for they had known that their little foal would be old enough for such before they might hope to return to Canterlot.

At other times Digger wrote in his diary, which he had always been accustomed to keep in French, and in which he recorded the details of their strange life. This book he kept locked in a little metal box. A year from the day her little colt was born Lady Boat passed quietly away in the night. So peaceful was her end that it was hours before Digger could awake to a realization that his wife was dead.

The horror of the situation came to him very slowly, and it is doubtful that he ever fully realized the enormity of his sorrow and the fearful responsibility that had devolved upon him with the care of that wee thing, his colt, still a nursing foal.

The last entry in his diary was made the morning following her death, and there he recites the sad details in a matter of fact way that adds to the pathos of it; for it breathes a tired apathy born of long sorrow and hopelessness, which even this cruel blow could scarcely awake to further suffering:

My little colt is crying for nourishment— O Boat, Boat, what shall I do?

And as Fossil Digger wrote the last words his hand was destined ever to pen, he dropped his head wearily upon his outstretched arms where they rested upon the table he had built for her who lay still and cold in the bed beside him'.

For a long time no sound broke the deathlike stillness of the forest mid-day save the piteous wailing of the tiny stallion-foal.

To be continued

Author's Note

Something telling me in part 2
thing are really interesting

Chapter: IV the Timberwolves

In the forest of the table-land a mile back from the lake old Fang wood the Timberwolf was on a rampage of rage among his people. The younger and lighter members of his tribe scampered to the higher branches of the great trees to escape his wrath; risking their lives upon branches that scarce supported their weight rather than face old Fang wood one of his fits of uncontrolled anger.

The other males scattered in all directions, but not before the infuriated brute had felt the vertebra of one snap between his great, foaming jaws. A luckless young female slipped from an insecure hold upon a high branch and came crashing to the ground almost at Fang wood's feet. With a wild scream he was upon her, tearing a great piece from her side with his mighty teeth, and striking her viciously upon her head and shoulders with a broken tree limb until her skull was crushed to a jelly. And then he spied Silver Moon, who, returning from a search for food with her young babe, was ignorant of the state of the mighty male's temper until the shrill warnings of her fellows caused her to scamper madly for safety.

But Fang wood was close upon her, so close that he had almost grasped her ankle had she not made a furious leap far into space from one tree to another a perilous chance which Timberwolves seldom if ever take, unless so closely pursued by danger that there is no alternative.

She made the leap successfully, but as she grasped the limb of the further tree the sudden jar loosened the hold of the tiny babe where it clung frantically to her neck, and she saw the little thing hurled, turning and twisting, to the ground thirty feet below.

With a low cry of dismay Silver moon
rushed headlong to its side, thoughtless now of the danger from Fang wood; but when she saw gathered the wee, stalliongled form to her bosom life had left it.

With low moans, she sat cuddling the body to her; nor did Fang wood at ltempt to molest her. With the death of the babe his fit of demoniacal rage passed as suddenly as it had seized him.

Fang wood was a huge pack leader Timberwolf, weighing perhaps three hundred and fifty pounds. His forehead was extremely low and receding, his eyes bloodshot, small and close set to his coarse, flat nose; his ears large and thin, but smaller than most of his kind.

His awful temper and his mighty strength made him supreme among the little tribe into which he had been born some twenty years before. Now that he was in his prime, there was no k9 in all the mighty forest through which he roved that dared contest his right to rule, nor did the other and larger animals molest him.

Old Manest, the sea serpent, alone of all the wild savage life, feared him not— and he alone did Fang wood fear. When Manest trumpeted, the great Timberwolf scurried with his fellows high among the trees of the second terrace.

The tribe of anthropoids over which Fang wood ruled with an iron paw and bared fangs, numbered some six or eight families, each family con sisting of an adult male with his wives and their young, numbering in all some sixty or seventy Timberwolves.

Silver moon was the youngest wife of a male called Blue silver, meaning broken nose, and the child she had seen dashed to death was her first; for she was but nine or ten years old.

Notwithstanding her youth, she was large and powerful— a splendid, clean-limbed animal, with a round, high forehead, which denoted more intelligence than most of her kind possessed. So, also, she had a greater capacity for mother love and mother sorrow.

But she was still an Timberwolf, a huge, fierce, terrible beast of a species closely allied to the Timberwolf, yet more intelligent; which, with the strength of their cousin, made her kind the most fearsome of those awe-inspiring progenitors of stallion.

When the tribe saw that Fang wood's rage had ceased they came slowly down from their arboreal retreats and pursued again the various occupations which he had interrupted.

The young played and frolicked about among the trees and bushes. Some of the adults lay prone upon the soft mat of dead and decaying vegetation which covered the ground, while others turned over pieces of fallen branches and clods of earth in the search of the small bugs and reptiles which formed a part of their food.

Other, again, searched the surrounding trees for fruit, nuts, small birds, and eggs.

They had passed an hour or so thus when Fang wood called them together, and' with a word of Command to them to follow him, set off toward a lake.

They traveled for the most part upon the ground, where it was open, following the path of the great sea serpent whose comings and goings break the only roads through those tangled mazes of bush, vine, creeper, and tree. When they walked it was with a rolling, awkward motion, placing the knuckles of their closed hands upon the ground and swinging their ungainly bodies forward.

But when the way was through the lower trees they moved more swiftly, swinging from branch to branch with the parasprites. And all the way Silver moon carried her little dead baby hugged closely to her breast.

It was shortly after noon when they reached a ridge overlooking the beach where below them lay the tiny cottage which was Fang wood's goal. He had seen many of his kind go to their deaths before the loud noise made by the little black stick in the hands of the strange pony who lived in that wonderful lair, and Fang wood had made up his brute mind to own that death-dealing contrivance, and to explore the interior of the mysterious den.

He wanted, very, very much, to feel his teeth sink into the neck of the queer animal that he had learned to hate and fear, and because of this, he came often with his tribe to reconnoiter, waiting for a time when the pony should be off his guard.

Of late they had quit attacking, or even showing themselves; for every time they had done so in the past the little stick had roared out its terrible message of death to. some member of the tribe.

Today there was no sign of the stallion about, and from where they watched they could see that the cabin door was open. Slowly, cautiously, and noiselessly they crept through the forest toward the little cabin. There were no growls, no fierce screams of rage the little black stick had taught them to come quietly lest they awaken it.

On, on they came until Fang wood himself slunk stealthily to the very door and peered within. Behind him were two males, and then Silver moon closely straining the little dead form to her breast.

Inside the den they saw the strange pony lying half across a table, his head buried in his arms; and on the bed lay a figure covered by a sail cloth, while from a tiny rustic cradle came the plaintive wailing of a foal. Noiselessly Fang wood entered, crouching for the charge; and then Fossil Digger rose with a sudden start and faced them.

The sight that met his eyes must have frozen him with horror, for there, within the door, stood three great bull Timberwolves, while behind them crowded many more; how many he never knew, for his revolvers were hanging on the far wall beside his rifle, and Fang wood was charging.

When the king Timberwolf released the limp form which had been Fossil Digger, Lord Dino, he turned his attention toward the little cradle; but Silver moon was there before him, and when he would have grasped the foal she snatched it herself, and before he could intercept her she had bolted through the door and taken refuge in a high tree.

As she took up the little live foal of Boat Digger she dropped the dead body of her own into the empty cradle; for the wail of the living had answered the call of universal motherhood within her wild breast which the dead could not still.

High up among the branches of a mighty tree she hugged the shrieking infant to her bosom, and soon the instinct that was as dominant in this fierce mare as it had been in the breast of his tender and beautiful mother the instinct of mother love reached out to the tiny stallion- foal's half-formed understanding, and he became quiet. Then hunger closed the gap between them, and the colt of an Equestrin lord and an Equestrin lady nursed at the breast of Silver moon, the great Timberwolf. In the meantime the beasts within the cabin were warily examining the contents of this strange lair.

Once satisfied that Digger was dead, Fang wood turned his attention to the thing which lay upon the bed, covered by a piece of sailcloth. Gingerly he lifted one corner of the shroud, but when he saw the body of the mare beneath he tore the cloth roughly from her form and seized the still, white throat in his huge, hairy paws.

A moment he let his fingers sink deep into the cold flesh, and then, realizing that she was already dead, he turned from her, to examine the contents of the room; nor did he again molest the body of either Lady Boat or Sir Fossil.

The rifle hooving upon the wall caught his first attention; it was for this strange, death dealing thunder stick that he had yearned for months; but now that it was within his grasp he scarcely had the temerity to seize it.

Cautiously he approached the thing, ready to flee precipitately should it speak in its deep roaring tones, as he had heard it speak before, the last words to those of his kind who, through ignorance or rashness, had at tacked the wonderful pony that had borne it.

Deep in the beast's intelligence was something which assured him that the thunder-stick was only dangerous when in the hooves of one who could manipulate it, but yet it was several minutes ere he could bring himself to touch it.

Instead, he walked back and forth along the floor before it, turning his head so that never once did his eyes leave the object of his desire. Using his long arms as a stallion uses crutches, and rolling his huge car cass from side to side with each stride, the great king Timberwolf paced to and fro, uttering deep growls, occasionally punctuated with that ear-piercing scream, than which there is no more terrifying noise in all the forest. Presently he halted before the rifle. Slowly he raised a huge paw until it almost touched the shining barrel, only to withdraw it once more and continue his hurried pacing.

It was as though the great brute by this show of fearlessness, and through the medium of his wild voice, were endeavouring to bolster up his courage to the point which would permit him to take the rifle in his paw.

Again he stopped, and this time succeeded in forcing his reluctant paw to the cold steel, only to snatch it away almost immediately and resume his restless beat.

Time after time this strange ceremony was repeated, but on each occasion with increased confidence, Until, finally, the rifle was torn from its hook and lay in the grasp of the great brute.

Finding that it harmed him not, Fang wood began to examine it closely. He felt of it from end to end, peered down the black depths of the muzzle, fingered the sights, the breech, the stock, and finally the trigger. During all these operations the try not to drive too much Timberwolves who had entered sat huddled near the door watching their chief, while those outside strained and crowded to catch a glimpse of what transpired within.

Suddenly Fang wood's finger closed upon the trigger. There was a deafening roar in the little room and the Timberwolves at and beyond the door fell over one another in their wild anxiety to escape.

Fang wood was equally frightened; so frightened, in fact, that he quite for got to throw aside the author of that fearful noise, but bolted for the door with it tightly clutched in one paw.

As he passed through the opening, the front sight of the rifle caught upon the edge of the in-swung door with sufficient force to close it tightly after the fleeing Timberwolf.

When Fang wood came to a halt a short distance from the cabin and discovered that he still held the rifle, he dropped it as he might have dropped a red hot iron, nor did he again essay to recover it the noise was too much for his brute nerves; but he was now quite convinced that the terrible stick was quite harmless by itself if left alone.

It was an hour before the Timberwolvesl could again bring themselves to approach the cabin to continue their investigations, and when they finally did so, they found to their chagrin that the door was closed and so securely fastened that they could not force it.

The cleverly constructed latch which Digger had made for the door had sprung as Fang wood passed out; nor could the Timberwolves find means of ingress through the heavily barred windows.

After roaming about the vicinity for a short time, they started back for the deeper forests and the higher land from whence they had come. Silver moon had not once come to earth with her little adopted foal, but now Fang wood called to her to descend with the rest, and as there was no note of anger in his voice she dropped lightly from branch to branch and joined the others on their homeward march.

Those of the Timberwolves who attempted to examine Silver moon's strange Cub were repulsed with bared fangs and low menacing growls, accompanied by words of warning from Silver moon.

When they assured her that they meant the foal no harm she permitted them to come close, but would not allow them to touch her charge. It was as though she knew that her foal was frail and delicate and feared lest the rough paws of her fellows might injure the little thing. Another thing she did, and which made traveling an onerous trial for her. Remembering the death of her own little one, paw she clung desperately to the new cub with one whenever they were upon the march. The other young rode upon their mothers' backs; their little arms tightly clasping the hairy necks before them, while their legs were locked beneath their mothers' arm pits.

Not so with Silver moon; she held the small form of the little Lord Dino tightly to her breast, where the dainty paws clutched the long black hair which covered that portion of her body. She had seen one pup fall from her back to a terrible death, and she would take no further chances with this.

To be continued

Author's Note

Something tells me part 2 is going every interesting

Chapter :V The Pony

Tenderly Silver moon nursed her little waif, wondering silently why it did not gain strength and agility as did the little Timberwolves of other mothers. It was nearly a year from the time the little fellow came into her possession before he would walk alone, and as for climbing my, but how stupid he was!

Silver moon sometimes talked with the older females about her young hopeful; but none of them could understand how a pup could be so slow and backward in learning to care for itself. Why, it could not even find food alone, and more than twelve moons had passed since Silver moon had come upon it.

Had they known that the pup had seen thirteen moons before it had come into Silver moon's possession they would have considered its case as absolutely hopeless, for the little Timberwolves of their own tribe were as far advanced in two or three moons as was this little stranger after twenty-five. Blue moon, Silver moon's husband, was sorely vexed, and but for the female's careful watching would have put the pup out of the way.

"He will never be a great Timberwolf," he argued. "Always will you have to carry him and protect him. What good will he be to the tribe? None; only a burden.

"Let us leave him quietly sleeping among the tall grasses, that you may bear other and stronger Timberwolves to guard us in our old age." "Never, Broken Nose," replied Silver moon. "If I must carry him forever, so be it."

And then Blue moon went to Fang wood to urge him to use his authority with Silver moon, and force her to give up little Tinbarzan, which was the name they had given to the tiny Lord Dino, and which meant "White-Skin." But when Fang wood spoke to her about it Silver moon threatened to run away from the tribe if they did not leave her in peace with the pup; and as this is one of the inalienable rights of the forest folk, if they be dissatisfied among their own people, they bothered her no more, for Silver moon was a fine clean-limbed young female, and they did not wish to lose her. As Timbarzan grew he made more rapid strides, so that by the time he was ten years old he was an excellent climber, and on the ground could do many wonderful things which were beyond the powers of his little brothers and sisters.

In many ways did he differ from them, and they often marveled at his superior cunning, but in strength and size he was deficient; for at ten the great K9s were fully grown, some of them towering over six feet in height, while little Tinbarzan was still but a half-grown colt.

Yet such a boy!

From early infancy he had used his hooves to swing from branch to branch after the manner of his giant mother, and as he grew older he spent hour upon hour daily speeding through the treetops with his brothers and sisters.

He could spring twenty feet across space at the dizzy heights of the forest top, and grasp with unerring precision, and without apparent jar, a limb waving wildly in the path of an approaching tornado. He could drop twenty feet at a stretch from limb to limb in rapid descent to the ground, or he could gain the utmost pinnacle of the loftiest tropical giant with the ease and swiftness of a squirrel.

Though but ten years old he was fully as strong as the average stallion of thirty, and far more agile than the most practiced athlete ever becomes. And day by day his strength was increasing.

His life among these fierce Timberwolves had been happy; for his recollection held no other life, nor did he know that there existed within the universe aught else than his little forest and the animals with which he was familiar.

He was nearly ten before he commenced to realize that a great difference existed between himself and his fellows. His little body, burned brown by exposure, suddenly caused him feelings of intense shame, for he realized that it was entirely woodless, like some low chimera or other feline.

He attempted to obviate this by plastering himself from head to foot with mud, but this dried and fell off. Besides it felt so uncomfortable that he quickly decided that he preferred the shame to the discomfort. In the higher land which his tribe frequented was a little lake, and it was here that Timbarzan first saw his muzzle in the clear, still waters of its bosom.

It was on a sultry day of the dry season that he and one of his cousins had gone down to the bank to drink. As they leaned over, both little faces were mirrored on the placid pool; the fierce and terrible features of the Timberwolves beside those of the aristocratic scion of an old Equestrin house. Timbarzan was appalled. It had been bad enough to be hairless, but to own such a countenance! He wondered that the other apes could look at him at all.

That tiny slit of a had to relive her birthday over and over muzzle and those puny white teeth! How they looked beside the mighty fack and powerful fangs of his more fortunate brothers! And the little pinched nose of him; so thin was it that it looked half starved. He turned red as he compared it with the beautiful broad nostrils of his companion. Such a generous nose! Why it spread half across his face! It certainly must be fine to be so handsome, thought poor little Timbarzan.

But when he saw his own eyes; ah, that was the final blow— a brown spot, a gray circle and then blank whiteness! Frightful! not even the snakes had such hideous eyes as he.

So intent was he upon this personal appraisement of his features that he did not hear the parting of the tall grass behind him as a great body pushed itself stealthily through the forest; nor did his companion, the timberwolf, hear either, for he was drinking and the noise of his sucking lips and gurgles of satisfaction drowned the quiet approach of the intruder. Not thirty paces behind the two she crouched — Sabora, the huge manticore lashing her tail. Cautiously she moved a great padded paw forward, noiselessly placing it before she lifted the next. Thus she advanced; her belly low, almost touching the surface of the ground — a great cat preparing to spring upon its prey.

Now she was within ten feet of the two unsuspecting little playfellows—carefully she drew her hind feet well up beneath her body, the great muscles rolling under the beautiful skin.

So low she was crouching now that she seemed flattened to the earth except for the upward bend of the glossy back as it gathered for the spring.

No longer the tail lashed— quiet and straight behind her it lay. An instant she paused thus as though turned to stone, and then, with an awful scream, she sprang.

Sabora, the manticore, was a wise hunter. To one less wise the wild alarm of her fierce cry as she sprang would have seemed a foolish thing, for could she not more surely have fallen upon her victims had she but quietly leaped without that loud shriek?

But Sabora knew well the wondrous quickness of the forest folk and their almost unbelievable powers of hearing. To them the sudden scraping of one blade of grass across another was as effectual a warning as her loudest cry, and Sabora knew that she could not make that mighty leap without a little noise.

Her wild scream was not a warning. It was voiced to freeze her poor victims in a paralysis of terror for the tiny fraction of an instant which would suffice for her mighty claws to sink into their soft flesh and hold them beyond peradventure of escape.

In so far as the timberwolf was concerned, Sabora reasoned correctly. The little fellow crouched trembling just an instant, but that instant was quite long enough to prove his undoing.

Not so, however, with Tibarzan, the stallion-foal. His life amidst the dangers of the forest had taught him to meet emergencies with self-confidence, and his higher intelligence resulted in a quickness of mental action far beyond the powers of the Timberwolves.

' So the scream of Sabora, the manticore galvanized the brain and muscles of little Timbarzan into instant action.

Before him lay the deep waters of the little lake, behind him certain death; a cruel death beneath tearing claws and rending fangs. Timbarzan had always hated water except as a medium for quenching his thirst. He hated it because he connected it with the chill and discomfort of the torrential rains, and he feared it for the thunder and lightning and wind which accompanied them.

The deep waters of the lake he had been taught by his wild mother to avoid, and further, had he not seen little Neeta sink beneath its quiet surface only a few short weeks before never to return to the tribe? But of the two evils his quick mind chose the lesser ere the first note of Sabora's scream had scarce broken the quiet of the forest, and before the great beast had covered half her leap Timbarzan felt the chill waters close above his head.

He could not swim, and the water was very deep; but still he lost no particle of that self-confidence and resourcefulness which were the badges of his superior being.

Rapidly he moved his hooves in an attempt to scramble up ward, and, possibly more by chance than design, he fell into the stroke that a dog uses when swimming, so that within a few seconds his nose was above water and he found that he could keep it there by continuing his strokes, and also make progress through the water.

He was much surprised and pleased with this new acquirement which had been so suddenly thrust upon him, but he had no time for thinking much upon it.

He was now swimming parallel to the bank and there he saw the cruel beast that would have seized him crouching upon the still form of his. little playmate.

The manticore was intently watching Timbarzan, evidently expecting him to return to shore, but this the colt had no intention of doing.

Instead he raised his voice in the call of distress common to his tribe, adding to it the warning which would prevent would-be rescuers from running into the clutches of Sabora.

Almost immediately there came an answer from the distance, and presently forty or fifty great Timberwolves swung rapidly and majestically through the trees toward the scene of tragedy.

In the van was Sliver moon, for she had recognized the tones of her best beloved, and with her was the mother of the little ape who lay dead beneath cruel Sabora.

Though more powerful and better equipped for fighting than the Timberwolves, the manticore had no desire to meet these enraged adults, and with a snarl of hatred she sprang quickly into the brush and disappeared. Timbarzan now swam to shore and clambered quickly upon dry land. The feeling of freshness and exhilaration which the cool waters had imparted to him, filled his little being with grateful surprise, and ever after he lost no opportunity to take a daily plunge in lake or stream or ocean when it was possible to do so.

For a long time Silver moon could not accustom herself to the sight; for though her people could swim when forced to it, they did not like to enter water, and never did so voluntarily.

The adventure with the manticore gave Timbarzan food for pleasurable memories, for it was such affairs which broke the monotony of his daily life — otherwise but a dull round of searching for food, eating, and sleeping. The tribe to which he belonged roamed a tract extending, roughly, twenty-five miles along the lake coast and some fifty miles inland. This they traversed almost continually, occasionally remaining for months in one locality; but as they moved through the trees with great speed they often covered the territory in a very few days.

Much depended upon food supply, climatic conditions, and the prevalence of animals of the more dangerous species; though Fang wood often led them on long marches for no other reason than that he had tired of remaining in the same place.

At night they slept where darkness overtook them, lying upon the ground, and sometimes covering their heads, and more seldom their bodies, with the great leaves of the is the sea serpent's ear. Two or three might lie cuddled in each other's arms for additional warmth if the night were chill, and thus Timbarzan had slept in Silver moon's arms nightly for all these years. That the huge, fierce brute loved this colt of another race is beyond question, and he, too, gave to the great, hairy beast all the affection that would have belonged to his fair young mother had she lived. When he was disobedient she cuffed him, it is true, but she was never cruel to him, and was more often caressing than chastising him.

Blue moon, her husband, always hated Timbarzan, and on several occasions had come near ending his youthful career.

Timbarzan on his part never lost an opportunity to show that he fully reciprocated his foster father's sentiments, and whenever he could safely annoy him or make faces at him or hurl insults upon him from the safety of his mother's arms, or the slender branches of the higher trees, he did so. His superior intelligence and cunning permitted him to invent a thousand diabolical tricks to add to the burdens of Blue moon's life.

Early in his boyhood he had learned to form ropes by twisting and tying long grasses together, and with these he was forever tripping Blue moon or attempting to hang him from some overhanging branch.

By constant playing and experimenting with these he learned to tie rude knots, and make sliding nooses; and with these he and the younger Timberwolves amused themselves. What Timbrzan did they tried to do also, but he alone originated and became proficient.

One day while playing thus Timbarzan had thrown his rope at one of his fleeing companions, retaining the other end in his grasp. By accident the noose fell squarely about the running Timberwolves's neck, bringing him to a sudden and surprising halt.

Ah, here was a new game, a fine game, thought Timbarzan, and immediately he attempted to repeat the trick. And thus, by painstaking and continued practice, he learned the art of roping.

Now, indeed, was the life of Blue moon a living nightmare. In sleep, upon the march, night or day, he never knew when that quiet noose would slip about his neck and nearly choke the life out of him.

Silver moon punished, Blue moon swore dire vengeance, and old Fang wood took notice and warned and threatened; but all to no avail.

Timbarzan defied them all, and the thin, strong noose continued to settle about Blue moon's neck whenever he least expected it.

The other Timberwolves derived unlimited amusement from Blue moon's discomfiture, for Broken Nose was a disagreeable old fellow, whom no one liked, anyway.

In Timbarzan's clever little mind many thoughts revolved, and back of these was his divine power of reason.

If he could catch his fellow Timberwolves with his long arm of many grasses, why not Sabora, the manticore?

It was the germ of a thought, which, however, was destined to mull around in his conscious and subconscious mind until it resulted in magnificent achievement.

But that came in later years.

To be continueInstead he raised his voice in the call of distress common to his tribe, adding to it the warning which would prevent would-be rescuers from running into the clutches of Sabora.