Timbarzan of the Timberwolves

FROM THE TIME Timbarzan had left the tribe of great wooden canines in which he had been raised, it was torn by continual strife and discord. Fang wood proved a cruel and capricious king, so that, one by one, many of the older and weaker timberwolves, upon whom he was particularly prone to vent his brutish nature, took their families and sought the quiet and safety of the far interior.

But at last those who remained were driven to desperation by the continued truculence of Fang wood, and it so happened that one of them are called the parting admonition of Timbarzan:

"If you have a chief who is cruel, do not do as the other timberwolves do, and attempt, any one of you, to pit yourself against him alone. But, instead, let two or three or four of you attack him together. Then, if you will do this, no chief will dare to be other than he should be, for four of you can kill any chief who may ever be over you."

And the timberwolf who recalled this wise counsel repeated it to several of his fellows, so that when Fang wood returned to the tribe that day he found a warm reception awaiting him.

There were no formalities. As Fang wood reached the group, five huge, wooden beasts sprang upon him.

At heart he was an arrant coward, which is the way with bullies among timberwolves as well as among ponies; so he did not remain to fight and die, but tore himself away from them as quickly as he could and fled into the shelter in boughs of the forest.

Two more attempts he made to rejoin the tribe, but on each occasion he was set upon and driven away. At last he gave it up, and turned, foaming with rage and hatred, into the forest.

For several days he wandered aimlessly, nursing his spite and looking for some weak thing on which to vent his pent anger.

It was in this state of mind that the horrible, wolf-like beast, swinging from tree to tree, came suddenly upon a mare and a dragonin the forest.

He was right above them when he discovered them. The first intimation Twilight Sparkle had of his presence was when the great wooden body dropped to the earth beside her, and she saw the awful face and the snarling, hideous mouth thrust within a hoof of her.

One piercing scream escaped her lips as the brute hand clutched her arm. Then she was dragged toward those awful fangs which yawned at her throat. But when they touched that fair skin another mood claimed the wooden canines.

The tribe had kept his females. He must find others to replace them. This woodless purple mare would be the first of his new household, and so he threw her roughly across his broad, wooden shoulders and leaped back into the trees, bearing Twlight Sparkle away toward a fate a thousand times worse than death.

Spike's scream of terror had mingled once with that of Twlight Sparkle, and then, as was Spike's manner under stress of emergency which required presence of mind, she swooned.

But Twlight Sparkle did not once lose consciousness. It is true that that awful face, pressing close to hers, and the stench of the foul breath beating upon her nostrils, paralyzed her with terror; but her brain was clear, and she comprehended all that transpired.

With what seemed to her marvelous rapidity the brute bore her through the forest, but still she did not cry out or struggle. The sudden advent of the timberwolf had confused her to such an extent that she thought now that he was bearing her toward the lake.

For this reason she conserved her energies and her voice until she could see that they had approached near enough to the camp to attract the succor she craved.

Poor foal! Could she but have known it, she was being borne, farther and farther into the impenetrable forest.

The scream that had brought Blue Blood and the two mares stumbling through the undergrowth had led Timbarzan of the Timberwolves straight to where Spike lay, but it was not Spike in whom he interest centered, though pausing over him he saw that he was unhurt.

For a moment he scrutinized the ground below and the trees above, until the timberwolf that was in him by virtue of training and environment, combined with the intelligence that was his by right of birth, told his wondrous woodcraft the whole story as plainly as though he had seen the thing happen with his own eyes.

And then he was gone again into the swaying trees, following the high flung spoor which no other pony eye could have detected, much less translated.

At boughs' ends, where the canine swings from one tree to another, there is most to mark the trail, but least to point the direction of the quarry, for there the pressure is downward always, toward the small end of the branch, whether the timberwolf be leaving or entering a tree; but nearer the center of the tree, where the signs of passage are fainter, the direction is plainly marked.

Here, on this branch, a caterpillar has been crushed by the fugitive's great foot, and Timbarzan knows instinctively where that same foot would touch in the next stride. Here he looks to find a tiny particle of the demolished larva, oft-times not more than a speck of moisture.

Again, a minute bit of bark has been upturned by the scraping hand, and the direction of the break indicates the direction of the passage. Or some great limb, or the stem of the tree itself has been brushed by the wood body, and a tiny shred of wood tells him by the direction from which it is wedged beneath the bark that he is on the right trail.

Nor does he need to check his speed to catch these seemingly faint records of the fleeing beast.

To Timbarzan they stand out boldly against all the myriad other scars and bruises and signs upon the leafy way. But strongest of all is the scent, for Timbarzan is pursuing up the wind, and his trained nostrils are as sensitive as a hound's.

There are those who believe that the lower orders are specially endowed by nature with better olfactory nerves than stallion, but it is merely a matter of development.

Stallion's survival does not hinge so greatly upon the perfection of his senses. His power to reason has relieved them of many of their duties, and so they have, to some extent, atrophied, as have the muscles which move the ears and scalp, merely from disuse.

The muscles are there, about your ears and beneath your scalp, and so are the nerves which transmit sensations to your brain, but they are under-developed in you because you do not need them.

Not so with Timbarzan of the Timberwolves. From early infancy his survival had depended upon acuteness of eyesight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste far more than the more slowly developed organ of reason.

The least developed of all, in Timbarzan, was the sense of taste, for he could eat luscious fruits, or raw flesh, long buried, with almost equal appreciation; but in that he differed but slightly from more civilized epi cures.

Almost silently the timberwolf-stallion sped on in the track of Fang wood and his prey, but the sound of his approach reached the ears of the fleeing beast and spurred it on to greater speed.

Three miles were covered before Timbarzan overtook them, and then Fang wood seeing that further flight was futile, dropped to the ground in a small open glade, that he might turn and fight for his prize, or be free to escape unhampered if he saw that the pursuer was more than a match for him.

He still grasped Twlight Sparkle in one great arm as Timbarzan bounded like a manticore into the arena which nature had provided for this primeval-like battle.

When Fang wood saw that it was Timbarzan who pursued him, he jumped to the conclusion that this was Timbarzan's mare, since they were of the same kind colored and woodless and so he rejoiced at this opportunity for double revenge upon his hated enemy.

To Twlight Sparkle the strange apparition of this warrior-like stallion was as wine to sick nerves.

From the description which Blue Blood and her friend and Ms. Rainbow Dash had given her, she knew that it must be the same wonderful creature who had saved them, and she saw in him only a protector and a friend.

But as Fang wood pushed her roughly aside to meet Timbarzan's charge, and she saw the great proportions of the timberwolf and the mighty muscles and the fierce fangs, her heart quailed. How could any animal vanquish such a mighty antagonist?

Like two charging minotaurs they came together, and like two wolves sought each other's throat. Against the long canines of the timberwolf was pitted the thin blade of the stallion's knife.

Twilight sparkle her lithe, young form flattened against the trunk of a great tree, her hooves tight pressed against her rising and falling bosom, and her eyes wide with mingled horror, fascination, fear, and admiration watched the primordial timberwolf battle with the primeval stallion for possession of a mare for her.

As the great muscles of the stallion's back and shoulders knotted beneath the tension of his efforts, and the huge biceps and forearm held at bay those mighty tusks, the veil of centuries of civilization and culture was swept from the blurred vision of the Canterlot mare.

When the long knife drank deep a dozen times of Fang wood' heart's blood, and the great carcass rolled lifeless upon the ground, it was a primeval mare who sprang forward with outstretched arms toward the primeval stallion who had fought for her and won her.

And Timbarzan?

He did what no red-blooded stallion needs lessons in doing. He took his mare in his arms and smothered her upturned, panting lips with kisses. For a moment Twlight Sparkle lay there with half-closed eyes. For a moment the first in her young life she knew the meaning of love.

But as suddenly as the veil had been withdrawn it dropped again, and an outraged conscience suffused her face with its scarlet mantle, and a mortified mare thrust Timbarzan of the Timberwolves from her and buried her face in her hooves.

Timbarzan had been surprised when he had found the mare he had learned to love after a vague and abstract manner, a willing prisoner in his arms. Now he was surprised that she repulsed him.

He came close to her once more and took hold of her arm. She turned upon him like a tigress, striking his great breast with her tiny hooves. Timbarzan could not understand it.

A moment ago and it had been his intention to hasten Twlight Sparkle back to her ponies, but that little moment was lost now in the dim and distant past of things which were but can never be again, and with it the good in tension had gone to join the impossible.

Since then Timbarzan of the Timberwolves had felt a warm, lithe form close pressed to his. Hot, sweet breath against his cheek and mouth had fanned a new flame to life within his breast, and perfect lips had clung to his in burning kisses that had seared a deep brand into his soul a brand which marked a new Timbarzan.

Again he laid his hoof upon her arm. Again she repulsed him. And then Timbarzan of the Timberwolves did just what his first ancestor would have done. He took his mare in his arms and carried her into the forest.

Early the following morning the four within the little cabin by the lake were awakened by the booming of a cannon. Blue Blood was the first to rush out, and there, beyond the harbor's mouth, he saw two vessels lying at anchor.

One was the Arrow and the other a small Frenchpony cruiser. The sides of the latter were crowded with stallion gazing shoreward, and it was evident to Blue Blood, as to the others who had now joined him, that the gun which they had heard had been fired to attract their attention if they still remained at the cabin.

Both vessels lay at a considerable distance from shore, and it was doubtful if their glasses would locate the waving hats of the little party far in between the harbor's points.

Spike had removed his red apron and was waving it frantically above his head; but Blue Blood, still fearing that even this might not be seen, hurried off toward the northern point where lay his signal pyre ready for the match.

It seemed an age to him, as to those who waited breathlessly behind, where he reached the great pile of dry branches and underbrush.

As he broke from the dense wood and came in sight of the vessels again, he was filled with consternation to see that the Arrow was making sail and that the cruiser was already under way.

Quickly lighting the pyre in a dozen places, he hurried to the extreme point of the promontory, where he stripped off his shirt, and, tying it to a fallen branch, stood waving it back and forth above him.

But still the vessels continued to stand out; and he had given up all hope, when the great column of smoke, arising above the forest in one dense vertical shaft, attracted the attention of a lookout aboard the cruiser, and instantly a dozen glasses were leveled on the lake.

Presently Blue Blood saw the two ships come about again; and while the Arrow lay drifting quietly on the ocean, the cruiser steamed slowly back toward ground.

At some distance away she stopped, and a boat was lowered and dispatched toward the lake.

As it was drawn up a young officer stepped out.
"Monsieur Blue Blood, I presume?" he asked.

"Thank Celestia, you have come!" was Blue Blood's reply. "And it may be that it is not too late even now."

"What do you mean, Monsieur?" asked the officer.

Blue Blood told of the abduction of Twilight Sparkle and the need of armed parrots to aid in the search for her.

"Mori Dieu!" exclaimed the officer, sadly. "Yesterday and it would not have been too late. Today it may be better that the poor mare was never found. It is horrible, Monsieur. It is too horrible."

Other boats had now put off from the cruiser, and Blue Blood, having pointed out the harbor's entrance to the officer, entered the boat with him and its nose was turned toward the little landlocked bay, into which the other craft followed.

Soon the entire party had landed where stood Professor Fluttershy, Ms. Rainbow Dash and the weeping Spike.

Among the officers in the last boats to put off from the cruiser was the Commander of the vessel; and when she had heard the story of Twlight Sparkle's abduction, she generously called for volunteers to accompany Professor Fluttershy and Blue Blood in their search.

Not an officer or a 'parrots was there of those brave and sympathetic Frenchparrots who did not quickly beg leave to be one of the expeditions. The Commander selected twenty parrots and two officers, Mullets and Boyle. A boat was dispatched to the cruiser for provisions, ammunition, and carbines; the parrots were already armed with revolvers.

Then, to Blue Blood's inquiries as to how they had happened to anchor off shore and fire a signal gun, the commander, Captain Solano, explained that a month before they had sighted the Arrow bearing south west under considerable canvas, and that when they had signaled her to come about she had but crowded on more sail.

They had kept her hull-up until sunset, firing several shots after her, but the next morning she was nowhere to be seen. They had then con tinued to cruise up and down the coast for several weeks, and had forgotten about the incident of the recent chase, when, early one morning a few days before, the lookout had described a vessel laboring in the trough of a heavy sky and evidently entirely from under control.

As they steamed nearer to the derelict they were surprised to note that it was the same vessel that had run from them a few weeks earlier. Her fore-stay-sail and mizzen-spanker were set as though an effort had been made to hold her head up into the wind, but the sheets had parted, and the sails were tearing to ribbons in the half gale of wind.

In the high sky that was running it was a difficult and dangerous task to attempt to put a prize crew aboard her; and as no signs of life had been seen above deck, it was decided to stand by until the wind and sky abated; but just then a figure was seen clinging to the rail and feebly waving a mute signal of despair toward them.

Immediately a boat's crew was ordered out and an attempt was successfully made to board the Arrow. The sight that met the Frenchperrots's eyes as they clambered over the airship's side was appalling.

A dozen dead and dying parrots rolled hither and thither upon the pitching deck, the living intermingled with the dead. Two of the corpses appeared to have been partially devoured as though by manticores.

The prize crew soon had the vessel under proper sail once more and the living members of the ill-starred company carried below to their hammocks.

The dead were wrapped in tarpaulins and lashed on deck to be identified by their comrades before being consigned to the deep.

None of the living was conscious when the Frenchperrot reached the Arrow's deck. Even the poor devil who had waved the single despairing signal of distress had lapsed into unconsciousness before he had learned whether it had availed or not.

It did not take the Frenchperrot officer long to learn what had caused the terrible condition aboard; for when water and brandy were sought to restore the perrots, it was found that not only was there not any of either, but not a vestige of food of any description.

She immediately signaled to the cruiser to send water, medicine, and provisions, and another boat made the perilous trip to the Arrow.

When restoratives had been applied several of the perrots regained consciousness, and then the whole story was told. That part of it we know up to the sailing of the Arrow after the murder of Snipes, and the burial of his body above the treasure-chest.

It seems that the pursuit by the cruiser had so terrorized the mutineers that they had continued out across the Atlantic for several days after losing her; but on discovering the meagre supply of water and provisions aboard, they had turned back toward the east.

With no one on board who understood navigation, discussions soon arose as to their whereabouts; and as three days' sailing to the east did not raise land, they bore off to the north, fearing that the high north winds that had prevailed had driven them south of the southern extremity of Everfree Forest.

They kept on a north-north easterly course for two days, when they were overtaken by a calm which lasted for nearly a week. Their water was gone, and in another day they would be without food.

Conditions changed rapidly from bad to worse. One parrot went mad and leaped overboard. Soon another opened his veins and drank his own blood.

When he died they threw him overboard also, though there were those among them who wanted to keep the corpse on board. Hunger was changing them from perrots beasts to wild beasts.

Two days before they had been picked up by the cruiser they had become too weak to hoofle the vessel, and that same day three perrots died. On the following morning it was seen that one of the corpses had been partially devoured.

All that day the perrots lay glaring at each other like beasts of prey, and the following morning two of the corpses lay almost entirely stripped of flesh.

The parrots were but little stronger for their ghoulish repast, for the want of water was by far the greatest agony with which they had to contend. And then the cruiser had come.

When those who could had recovered, the entire story had been told to the Frenchperrot commander, but the perrots were too ignorant to be able to tell him at just what point on the coast the professor and his party had been marooned, so the cruiser had steamed slowly along within sight of land, firing occasional signal guns and scanning every inch of the lake with glasses.

They had anchored by night so as not to neglect a particle of the shore line, and it had happened that the preceding night had brought them off the very lake where lay the little camp they sought.

The signal guns of the afternoon before had not been heard by those on ground, it was presumed, because they had doubtless been in the thick of the forest searching for Twilight Sparkle, where the noise of their own crashing through the underbrush would have drowned the report of a far distant gun.

By the time the two parties had narrated their several adventures, the cruiser's boat had returned with supplies and arms for the expedition. Within a few minutes the little body of sailors and the two Frenchperrot officers, together with Professor Fluttershy and Blue Blood, set off upon their hopeless and ill-fated quest into the untracked forest.

To be continued