"Piglets and pawprints!" cried Eatbugs, then paused and looked quickly around. He leaned toward his companions. "Let's be off!" he added, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.
Eatbugs was not a bad traveling companion. His occasional fits did not prove dangerous in any way, and after a while even Pouncequick accepted him without too much trepidation. He kept up a constant stream of songs and strange poetry all through the evening. When Fritti-wanting a little peace-finally asked him to quiet down a bit, he became silent as mud.
When they stopped to rest at Final Dancing, Eatbugs was still not speaking.
Fritti felt badly about how the old cat had taken his admonishment-he had not wanted to silence him completely. He walked over to the stranger, who was lying on the ground with his eyes in that odd, unfixed gaze.
"You told us that you knew some stories, Eatbugs. Why don't you give us one? We'd enjoy it."
Eatbugs did not immediately respond. When he raised his head to look at Tailchaser, his eyes were filled with a great and terrible sadness. At first Fritti thought that he had been the cause, but a moment's observation showed that the old cat wasn't seeing him at all.
The look suddenly passed from Eatbugs' begrimed mask, and his eyes focused on Tailchaser. A weak smile came to his mouth.
"Ah, what, lad, what?"
"A story. You said that you would tell us a story, Eatbugs."
"Yes, I did. And I know plenty-ramblers and tumblers and bottom-droppers. What do you want to hear about?"
"One about Firefoot. His adventures!" said Pounce-quick eagerly.
"Oh…" said Eatbugs, shaking his muddy head. "I'm afraid I don't know any good ones, kitling… not about Firefoot. What else?"
"Wellll…" Pouncequick pondered, disappointed. "What about Growlers? Big, mean Growlers-and brave cats! How about that?"
"By the Sniffling Snail, I do happen to know a good one about the Growlers! Shall I sing it for you?"
"Oh, please do!" said Pouncequick, wiggling in his fur. He had missed stories.
"All right," said Eatbugs. And he did.
"Long ago, when cats were cats, and rats and mice sang 'mumbledy-peg, mumbledy-peg' in the brush at night, the Growlers and the Folk lived in peace. The last of the devil-hounds had died out, and their more peaceable descendants hunted alongside our ancestorous ancestors.
"There was a prince-O, such a prince-named Redlegs, who had suffered great unhappiness in the Court where his mother, Queen Cloudleaper, ruled. He went whispering and dancing into the wilderness to hugger-mugger with the rocks and trees, and to have Adventures-"
"Just like Firefoot!" squeaked Pouncequick.
"Hush!" hissed Fritti.
"Well," continued Eatbugs, "one day, when the sun was high in the sky and hurt his eyes, Redlegs came upon two giant piles of bones lying on either side of his path at the mouth of the valley. He knew that he was at the gates of Barbarbar, the City of the Dogs. Growlers and Folk had no quarrel at this time, and Redlegs was anyway a prince of his people, so he entered into the valley.
"Around him he did spy every manner of Growler: tall and small, fat and flat; who leaped and bounded and barked, and dug holes, and carried bones hither and yon. But most of the bones were being carried to the pillars of the gate, where the yapping and yelping crews clambered up the piles and laid them on top. As the day wore on, the shinnying Growlers had more and more difficulty getting to the top- where they were trying, dry-nosed and gasping, to join the pillars into an arch.
"Finally, a huge and majestic mastiff appeared, barking commands; the Growlers jumped and gyrated in their efforts to please him, but at last nothing further could be done to join the pillars at the apex. Every leg-sprightly pup of the dog city was sent up to fill the last small gap-which was but one bonelength wide-but none could climb to the top of the curving pillars…"
Tailchaser had an unusual feeling. As he lay, eyes tightly shut, listening to Eatbugs' song, he found that he could see the events in a way that he had never been able to at Meeting Wall. In his mind's eye, he witnessed the leaning towers of bone, the efforts of the Growler-folk and their mastiff leader, as clearly as if he had been present. Why did he feel this way? He licked his foreleg and washed his face, concentrating on the old cat's words.
"Now," Eatbugs was saying, "in those days dogs had not become the lick-M'an, drunk-slobber wretches we see today, but the Folk have always found them amusing-unless in direct battle, you see. So, as Redlegs watched the parade of frightened doglings shinnying up the gate arch, only to come cowering down in defeat a moment later, he could not help laughing.
"At the sound of this the huge mastiff turned in anger and gullet-growled: 'Who are you that laughs so, cat?'
"Redlegs stilled his merriment, and said: 'I am Redlegs, of the line of Harar.'
"The mastiff looked at him. 'I am Rauro Bite-then-Bark, of these dogs the King. It is not meet or seemly that I should be mocked in this way!' At this the dog-king puffed out his chest and goggled his eyes in such an important way that Redlegs almost laughed again.
" 'How long have you been building your gate. O King?' he asked.
" 'Full three seasons it has been,' replied Bite-then-Bark, 'and we but lack one bone to make it complete.'
" 'So I see,' said Redlegs, and suddenly he was of an inclination to play a trick on the puff-puddle-pompous King of the Dogs. 'Your Majesty, if I can finish your gate for you, will you grant me one favor?' he asked.
" 'What would that be?' inquired the King suspiciously.
" 'If I can do your task, I would like a bone for my own.'
"The King, thinking of the thousands of bones that he held sway over, yapped with delight at the cheapness of the request and said: 'You shall have any bone you desire in my kingdom, only you do this for me.'
"So Redlegs agreed, and, taking the last bone-piece of the gate in his mouth, climbed carefully and skillfully up the swaying arch. When he got to the top, he carefully pushed the final piece between the tips of the two curving towers, where it fit like the last scale Meerclar put on lizards. Then he walked down again while all the Growlers barked and harrumphed with pleasure to see their work completed, and their mighty gate standing finished.
"While all stared upward, ears flopping and tongues lolling in glee, Redlegs walked to the base of one of the gate towers. He searched scrupulous careful for a moment, then leaned forward and tugged out one of the bones that was therein piled.
"Nothing happened for a few hiccoughing heartbeats-then waver, wail, and wallow, the gate bent a little to this side, a little to that side… then collapsed, with a noise like all the dancing dead.
"When King Rauro Bite-then-Bark, drooling with shock and horror, turned to look at Redlegs, the Prince only said to him: 'See, I chose my bone, as you stipulated!' and began to laugh.
"Looking from Redlegs to his shattered gate, the eyes of the King became red with fury, and he woofed: 'G-g-g-get that c-c-c-c-ursed c-c-c-cat! K-k-kill him!' And all the Growlers of Barbarbar leaped up at once, and did sprint after Redlegs, who was nonetheless too fast for them and made his escape.
"Over his shoulder as he ran, he called back: 'Think of me, O King, when next in your pride you gnaw at a hipbone on your unburied dunghill throne!'
"So it is that these days We Cats and Those Dogs are enemies wherever we meet in these fields we know. They have never forgiven the humiliation of their King, and pledge they never shall-till the sun falls from the sky, and snakes learn to fly on the morning breeze."
When Eatbugs finished his song Pouncequick was already asleep, rumbling softly. Fritti felt the strange feeling of true-seeing leave him. He wished to question the muddied stranger-cat, but Eatbugs was in a staring trance, half asleep, and would not respond. Finally, Tailchaser also succumbed to the voice of sleep, and crossed over into the fields of dreams.