Timbarzan of the Timberwolves

After Blue blood Had plunged into the forest, the sailors mutineers of the Arrow fell into a discussion of their next step; but on one point all were agreed that they should hasten to put off to the anchored Arrow, where they could at least be safe from the spears of their unseen foe. And so, while Twilight Sparkle and Spike were barricading themselves within the cabin, the cowardly crew of cutthroats were pulling rapidly for their airship in the ladder that had brought them ashore.

So much had Timbarzan seen that day that his head was in a whirl of wonder. But the most wonderful sight of all, to him, was the face of the beautiful purple mare.

Here at last was one of his own kind; of that he was positive. And the young stallion and the two other mares; they, too, were much as he had pictured his own ponies to be.

But doubtless they were as ferocious and cruel as other stallion and mare he had seen. The fact that they alone of all the party were unarmed might account for the fact that they had killed no one. They might be very differ ent if provided with weapons.

Timbarzan had seen the young stallion pick up the fallen revolver of the wounded Snipes and hide it away in his breast; and he had also seen him slip it cautiously to the mare as she entered the cabin door.

He did not understand anything of the motives behind all that he had seen; but, somehow, intuitively he liked the young stallion and the two other mares, and for the purple mare he had a strange longing which he scarcely understood. As for the small purple dragon, he was evidently connected in some way to the purple mare, and so he liked him, also.

For the sailors, and especially Snipes, he had developed a great hatred. He knew by their threatening gestures and by the expressions upon their evil faces that they were enemies of the others of the party, and so he decided to watch them closely.

Timbarzan wondered why the two mares and stallion had gone into the forest, nor did it ever occur to him that one could become lost in that maze of under growth which to him was as simple as the main street of your own home town to you.

When he saw the sailors climbing away toward the ship, and knew that the mare and her companion were safe in his cabin, Timbarzan decided to follow the young stallion into the forest and learn what his errand might be. He swung off rapidly in the direction taken by Blue Blood, and in a short time heard faintly in the distance the now only occasional calls of the equestrianstallion to his friends.

Presently Timbarzan came up with the white stallion, who, almost fagged, was leaning against a tree wiping the perspiration from his forehead. The timberwolf-stallion, hiding safe behind a screen of foliage, sat watching this new specimen of his own race intently.

At intervals Blue Blood called aloud and finally it came to Timbarzan that he was searching for the other mares.

Timbarzan was on the point of going off to look for them himself, when he caught the yellow glint of a sleek hide moving cautiously through the forest toward Blue Blood.

It was Sheetar, the chimera. Now, Timbarzan heard the soft bending of grasses and wondered why the young white stallion was not warned. Could it be he had failed to note the loud warning? Never before had Timbarzan known Sheetar to be so clumsy.

No, the white stallion did not hear. Sheetar was crouching for the spring, and then, shrill and horrible, -there rose upon the stillness of the forest the awful cry of the challenging timberwolf, and Sheetar turned, crashing into the underbrush.

Blue Blood came to his hoofs with a start. His blood ran cold. Never in all his life had so fearful a sound smote upon his ears. He was no coward; but if ever stallion felt the icy hoovfs of fear upon his heart, William Prince Blue Blood, eldest friend of Lord Fossil of Canterlot, did that day in the fastness of the everfree forest.

The noise of some great body crashing through the underbrush so close beside him, and the sound of that blood-curdling shriek from above, tested Blue Blood's courage to the limit; but he could not know that it was to that very voice he owed his life, nor that the creature who hurled it forth was his own friends nephew— the Lord Fossil.

The afternoon was drawing to a close, and blue, disheartened and discouraged, was in a terrible quandary as to the proper course to pursue; whether to keep on in search of Professor Fluttershy, at the almost certain risk of his own death in the forest by night, or to return to the cabin where he might at least serve to protect Twilight Sparkle from the perils which confronted her on all sides.

He disliked to return to camp without her friends; still more, he shrank from the thought of leaving her alone and unprotected in the hoovfs of the mutineers of the Arrow, or to the hundred unknown dangers of the forest.

Possibly, too, he thought, were this the professor and Rainbow Dash had returned to camp. Yes, that was more than likely. At least he would return and see, before he continued what bade fare to be a most fruitless quest. And so he started, stumbling back through the thick and matted underbrush in the direction that he thought the cabin lay.

To Timbarzan's surprise the young stallion was heading further into the forest in the general direction of Mbonga's village, and the shrewd young stallion was convinced that he was lost.

To Timbarzan this was scarcely comprehensible; but his judgment told him that no stallion would venture toward the village of the cruel village ponies armed only with a spear which, from the awkward way in which he carried it, was evidently an unaccustomed weapon to this white stallion. Nor was he following the trail of the other mares. That, they had crossed and left long since, though it had been fresh and plain before Timbarzan's eyes. Timbarzan was perplexed. The fierce forest would make easy prey of this unprotected stranger in a very short time if he were not guided quickly to the beach.

Yes, there was Numa, the manticore, even now, stalking the white stallion a dozen paces to the right.

Blue Blood heard the great body paralleling his course, and now there rose upon the evening air the beast's thunderous roar. The Stallion stopped with an upraised spear and faced the brush from which issued the awful sound. The shadows were deepening, darkness was settling in.

Celestia! To die here alone, beneath the fangs of wild beasts; to be torn and rendered; to feel the hot breath of the brute on his face as the great paw crushed down upon his breast!

For a moment all was still. Blue Blood stood rigid, with raised spear. Presently a faint rustling of the bush apprised him of the stealthy creep ing of the thing behind. It was gathering for the spring. At last he saw it, not twenty feet away— the long, the, muscular body and tawny head of a huge black-maned manticore.

The beast was upon its belly, moving forward very slowly. As its eyes met Blue Blood's it stopped, and deliberately, cautiously gathered its hind quarters beneath it.

In agony the man watched; fearful to launch his spear; powerless to fly.

He heard a noise in the tree above him. Some new danger, he thought, but he dared not take his eyes from the yellow green orbs before him. There was a sharp twinge as of a broken banjo-string, and at the same instant an arrow appeared in the yellow hide of the crouching manticore.

With a roar of pain and anger the beast sprang; but, somehow, Blue Blood stumbled to one side, and as he turned again to face the infuriated king of beasts, he was appalled at the sight which confronted him. Almost simultaneously with the manticore's turning to renew the attack a naked giant dropped from the tree above squarely on the brute's back.

With lightning speed an arm that was banded layers of iron muscle en circled the huge neck, and the great beast was raised from behind, roaring and pawing the air— raised as easily as Blue Blood would have lifted a pet dog.

The scene he witnessed there in the twilight depths of the everfree forest was burned forever into the a equestrianstallion's brain.

The stallion before him was the embodiment of physical perfection and giant strength, yet it was not upon these he depended in his battle with the great cat, for, mighty as were his muscles, they were as nothing by comparison with Numar's. To his agility, to his brain and to his long keen knife he owed his supremacy.

His right arm encircled the manticore's neck, while the left hoof plunged the knife time and again into the unprotected side behind the left shoulder. The infuriated beast, pulled up and backwards until he stood upon his hind legs, struggled impotently in this unnatural position.

Had the battle been of a few seconds' longer duration the outcome might have been different, but it was all accomplished so quickly that the lion had scarce time to recover from the confusion of its surprise where it sank lifeless to the ground.

Then the strange figure which had vanquished it stood erect upon the carcass, and throwing back the wild and hoofsome head, gave out the fearsome cry which a few moments earlier had so startled Blue Blood.

Before him he saw the figure of a young stallion, naked except for a loin cloth and a few barbaric ornaments about arms and legs; on the breast a priceless diamond locket gleaming against a smooth brown furr.

The hunting-knife had been returned to its homely sheath, and the stallion was gathering up his bow and quiver from where he had tossed them, when he leaped to attack the manticore.

Blue Blood spoke to the stranger in Equestrian, thanking him for his brave rescue and complimenting him on the wondrous strength and dexterity he had displayed, but the only answer was a steady state and a faint shrug of the mighty shoulders, which might betoken either disparagement of the service rendered, or ignorance of Blue Blood's language.

When the bow and quiver had been slung to his back the wild Stallion, for such Blue Blood now thought him, once more drew his knife and deftly carved a dozen large strips of meat from the manticore's carcass. Then, squatting upon his haunches, he proceeded to eat, first motioning Blue Blood to join him.

The strong white teeth sank into the raw and dripping flesh in apparent relish of the meal, but Blue Blood could not bring himself to share the un cooked meat with his strange host; instead he watched him, and presently there dawned upon him the conviction that this was Timbarzan of the Timberwolves, whose notice he had seen posted upon the cabin door that morning.

If so, he must speak Equestrian.

Again Blue Blood essayed speech with the Timberwolf-stallion; but the replies, now vocal, were in a strange tongue, which resembled the chattering of mon keys mingled with the growling of some wild beast.

No, this could not be Timbarzan of the Timberwolves, for it was very evident that he was an utter stranger to Equestrian.

When Timbarzan had completed his repast he rose and, pointing in a very different direction from that which Blue Blood had been pursuing, started off through the jungle toward the point he had indicated.

Blue Blood, bewildered and confused, hesitated to follow him, for he thought he was but being led more deeply into the mazes of the forest; but the timberwolf-stallion, seeing him disinclined to follow, returned, and, grasping him by the coat, dragged him along until he was convinced that Blue Blood understood what was required of him. Then he left him to follow voluntarily.

The equestrianstallion, finally concluding that he was a prisoner, saw no alternative open but to accompany his captor, and thus they traveled slowly through the forest while the sable mantle of the impenetrable forest night fell about them, and the stealthy footfalls of padded paws mingled with the breaking of twigs and the wild calls of the savage life that Blue Blood felt closing in upon him.

Suddenly Blue Blood heard the faint report of a firearm— a single shot, and then silence.

In the cabin by the beach two thoroughly terrified mare and dragon clung to each other as they crouched upon the low bench in the gathering darkness.

The Dragon sobbed hysterically, bemoaning the evil day that had witnessed him departure from his dear Canterlot, while the purple mayor, dry eyed and outwardly calm, was torn by inward fears and forebodings. She feared not more for herself than for the two mares and stallion whom she knew to be wandering in the abysmal depths of the savage forest, from which she now heard issuing the almost incessant shrieks and roars, barkings and growlings of its terrifying and fearsome denizens as they sought their prey.

And now there came the sound of a heavy body brushing against the side of the cabin. She could hear the great padded paws upon the ground without. Then, for an instant, all was silence; even the bedlam of the forest died to a faint murmur; then she distinctly heard the beast without sniffing at the door, not two feet from where she crouched. Instinctively the girl shuddered, and shrank closer to the dragon.

"Hush!" she whispered. "Hush, spike," for the dragon's sobs and groans seemed to have attracted the thing that stalked there just beyond the thin wall.

A gentle scratching sound was heard on the door. The brute tried to force an entrance; but presently this ceased, and again she heard the great pads creeping stealthily around the cabin. Again they stopped— beneath the window on which the terrified eyes of the girl now glued themselves.

"Celestia!" she murmured, for now, silhouetted against the moonlit sky beyond, she saw framed in the tiny square of the latticed window the head of a huge female manticore. The gleaming eyes were fixed upon her in intent ferocity.

"Look, Spike!" she whispered. "For so that's the Celestia's sake, what shall we do? Look! Quick! The window!"

Spike, cowering still closer to his mother, took one affrighted glance toward the little square of moonlight, just as the lioness emitted a low, savage snarl.

The sight that met the poor dragon's eyes was too much for the already overstrung nerves.

"Oh, Luna!" he shrieked, and slid to the floor in an inert and senseless mass.

For what seemed an eternity the great brute stood with its forepaws upon the sill, glaring into the little room. Presently it tried the strength of the lattice with its great talons.

The girl had almost ceased to breathe, when, to her relief, the head disappeared and she heard the brute's footsteps leaving the window. But now they came to the door again, and once more the scratching commenced; this time with increasing force until the great beast was tearing at the massive panels in a perfect frenzy of eagerness to seize its defenseless victims.

If Twilight Sparkle had known the immense strength of that door, builded piece by piece, she would have felt less fear of the manticore reaching her by this avenue.

Little did fossil digger imagine when he fashioned that crude but mighty portal that one day, twenty years later, it would shield a fair Canterlot mayor, then unborn, from the teeth and talons of a stallion-eater.

For fully twenty minutes the brute alternately sniffed and tore at the door, occasionally giving voice to a wild, savage cry of baffled rage. At length, however, she gave up the attempt, and Time Twilight Sparkle heard her re turning toward the window, beneath which she paused for an instant, and then launched her great weight against the time-worn lattice.

The mare heard the wooden rods groan beneath the impact; but they held, and the huge body dropped back to the ground below.

Again and again the manticore repeated these tactics, until finally the horrified prisoner within saw a portion of the lattice give way, and in an instant one great paw and the head of the animal were thrust within the room.

Slowly the powerful neck and shoulders spread the bars apart, and the lithe body protruded further and further into the room. As in a trance, the mare rose, her hoof upon her breast, wide eyes staring horror-stricken into the snarling face of the beast scarce ten hooves from her. At her hooves lay the prostrate form of the dragon. If she could but arouse her, their combined efforts might possibly avail to beat back the fierce and blood thirsty intruder.

Twilight Sparkle stooped to grasp the dragon by the shoulder. Roughly she shook him.

"Spike! Spike!" she cried. "Help me, or we are lost."

Spike slowly opened his eyes. The first object they encountered was the dripping fangs of the hungry manticore.

With a horrified scream the poor dragon rose to his hands and knees, and in this position scurried across the room, shrieking: "O Luna! OR Cadence!" at the top of his lungs.

Spike weighed some two thirdy five pounds, which enhanced nothing the gazelle-like grace of his carriage when walking erect, and his extreme haste, added to his extreme corpulency, produced a most amazing result when Spike elected to travel on all fours.

For a moment the manticore remained quiet with intense gaze directed upon the flitting Spike, whose goal appeared to be the cupboard, into which she attempted to propel his huge bulk; but, as the shelves were but nine or ten inches apart, he only succeeded in getting his head in, whereupon, with a final screech, which paled the forest noises into insignificance, he fainted once again.

With the subsidence of Spike the manticore renewed her efforts to wriggle her huge bulk through the weakening lattice.

The mare, standing pale and rigid against the further wall, sought with ever-increasing terror some loop-hole of escape. Suddenly her hand, tight-pressed against her bosom, felt the hard outline of the revolver that Blue Blood had left with her earlier in the day.

Quickly she snatched it from its hiding-place, and, leveling it full at the manticore's face, pulled the trigger.

There was a flash of flame, the roar of the discharge, and an answering roar of pain and anger from the beast.

Twilight Sparkle saw the great form disappear from the window, and then she, too, fainted, the revolver falling at her side.

But Sabora was not killed. The bullet had but inflicted a painful wound in one of the great shoulders. It was the surprise at the blinding flash and the deafening roar that had caused her hasty, though but temporary, re treat.

In another instant she was back at the lattice, and with renewed fury was clawing at the aperture, but with lessened effect, since the wounded member was almost useless.

She saw her prey— the mare and dragon— lying senseless upon the floor; there was no longer any resistance to be overcome. Her meat lay before her, and Sabora had only to worm her way through the lattice to claim it. Slowly she forced her great bulk, inch by inch, through the opening.. Now her head was through, now one great forearm and shoulder.

Carefully she drew up the wounded member to insinuate it gently beyond the tight pressing bars.

A moment more and both shoulders through, the long, sinuous body and the narrow hips would glide quickly after. It was on this sight that Twilight Sparkle again opened her eyes.

To be continued