"I know," Fernhare sighed.
Glade didn't say anything. On the one hand he agreed with Suretrail. On the other, he was the keeper of the Way, and knew better than anybody that Freefoot was right. He just went upstream, and after a moment Fernhare followed.
The conversation was rousing the other elves now, and one by one they came out of their dens. Freefoot went off to wash. Suretrail started to pick up all the arrows he and Bluesky had made. He was exhausted.
Shadowflash and Catcher came up from the stream. "Were you up all night?" Catcher asked.
"Made a lot of arrows," Suretrail said, showing them to her.
"They'll be all right," Shadowflash said as Bluesky and Rainbow came back with Fangslayer. "Deerstorm has been there before, she's got good sense."
"So has Brightmist," Fangslayer said. "We had to give them the chance. We wouldn't worry about any other party of four.''
"That's just the problem," Rainbow said.
"I guess we can wait a while longer," Bluesky said.
The daily hunt was a minor affair, as the elves went after smaller game close to the holt. By noon, most had returned for a light meal. But Suretrail, Two-Wolves, and Rainbow couldn't stand it anymore. They went to sit with Freefoot, Starflower, Fangslayer, and Feather.
"I think we should go looking for them," Suretrail said.
"I have to agree," Starflower said.
"If they were all right," Two-Wolves said, "they'd not have kept Crystalmoss out this long."
"Then I guess somebody had better go after them," Freefoot said to Suretrail.
"I'm going too," Two-Wolves said.
"How about Shadowflash?" Starflower suggested.
"That's good," Freefoot said. "Grazer and Fernhare too. But it's getting on toward afternoon, you won't make it to Tall-Trees before dark."
"I know," Suretrail said, "but I think we should start out anyway. Tomorrow might be too late."
Mounted on their wolves, the five elders traveled as quickly as they could, following much the same route the four younger elves had taken two days before. It was indeed dusk by the time they came to Tall-Trees.
The area was too large to search, so they tracked first one way along the verge, then the other. At last Snaggletooth, Shadowflash's wolf, caught a trace where Brightmist had put her hand on a branch to move it aside.
They followed the faint trail from copse to copse, circling rather than going through. Always they found the trail on the other side. As they went they occasionally saw the distant shadowy forms of deerwhite-tail, red, and even black-neck. But there was no smell of deer blood anywhere.
"I think it's time to shed some," Two-Wolves said. "It's late, I'm hungry, and Loper and Springer don't want to track elves with so much game nearby."
The others agreed, so when they saw a white-tail yearling they brought it down quickly and ate. By the time they finished it was full night. The dark did not slow them as they went on, but fatigue and full bellies did.
Some time later, in a large copse, they smelled pig blood. They entered the brush, smelled the spoor of black-neck, and saw the place where the pig had been struck.
"It wasn't a forest pig," Shadowflash said.
They followed the blood smell out of the copse and through the dark parkland. At one point the trail crossed bare ground, and they knelt to check for prints. It was a big pig, and had been running hard.
"If they just wanted supper," Grazer said, "why did they chose a pig that size?"
"Why a pig at all?" Suretrail wondered. "There were black-neck right there."
"More of a challenge?" Fernhare suggested.
"It looks like it must have led them quite a chase," Two-Wolves said.
"Foolish thing to do," Suretrail said.
"At least," Shadowflash said, "they decided to finish the job after wounding it."
Later they came to a place where they smelled wolf-blood and stopped, alarmed. Their wolves howled in distress. The elves howled too, and sent. There was no reply to their sending, but there was an answering howl.
They hurried toward the sound and found Mask. Greentwig's wolf was tired and sore and stiff, and the skin along one side was badly cut and it seemed that some ribs were cracked.
"He must have tangled with the wounded pig," Grazer said. The wolf was in no danger but needed rest and attention.
"He can't be the only survivor," Suretrail said.
Two-Wolves put his hands on Mask's head and stared into the wolf's eyes. But Mask was not his wolf, and the animal was tired, hungry, and thirsty, and not interested in wolf-talking. About the only thing Two-Wolves could learn was that Greentwig had sent Mask back from some place. After a bit Two-Wolves instructed Springer, the smaller of his two animals, to accompany Mask back to the holt where he could be tended.
The trail continued in almost a straight line through the park to the river, where they could see the trampled brush where the pig had gone. They followed, into the denser forest.
It was dawn by the time they came to the rapids high in the back of the valley. The sun, though still hidden by the forest across the river, was just coming up. The trail led to the rocks of the rapids, and was lost. Two-Wolves looked around. "Here's where Mask turned back," he said.
They were very tired flow and had to rest a bit while they decided what to do next. They slaked their thirst, and Shadowflash and Grazer went to catch a few fish for breakfast. They came back with several large salmon.
When they had eaten and caught their breath they searched along the river, then forded the rapids where it was easiest and cast up and down the other side. At last they found wolf-prints in the mud, and followed the trail away from the river, upslope into the forest, and eventually to the uplands.
They pushed on as hard as they could until, by midmorning, they came to the semiopen glade. Here they could finally see the pig tracks clearly, of the wounded animal and of many others. The smell of pig was strong.
"Look," Fernhare said, pointing to the tracks. "The pig our deer hunters were after was just a juvenile."
"Are you sure?" Two-Wolves asked.
"See for yourself," she said. She pointed out other, much larger hoofprints. "Mountain-swine. I've seen their tracks before, way to the south."
They scouted cautiously. There could be other swine nearby. The pig smell was everywhere, bushes had been rooted up and small saplings knocked down.
"At least twenty animals," Suretrail said, "maybe more."
"Look at the size of those tracks," Grazer said. "Bigger than a deer, and heavier than a bear."
They didn't see any swine at the moment, but the ground was uneven, there were hollows, rocks, bushes, and the occasional tree where they could be concealed. The rescue party moved deeper into the glade. Some of the pig marks had been made recently. One pile of droppings was still warm. The wolves were quiet, slinking along. They didn't like this place at all.
Then they heard sounds to one side, distant snorting and grunting. They approached cautiously, well spread out and ready to run. And there they were, dozens of swine, of all sizes, the biggest truly huge, loosely gathered and moving around a place where three tall oaks stood, still some way off.
Two-Wolves looked up at the trees. Maybe ... **Crystal-moss!** he sent.
**Father!** came the answer they all could hear.
Then the four young hunters yelled, and the swine thrashed around in the rocky-bottomed draw.
"They're up in the trees," Shadowflash said with obvious relief.
**Are you all right?** Suretrail sent.
The four young elves all answered at once, a jumble of thoughts and images. They were fine, but they were tired, cramped, and hungry. The pigs had stayed under their trees since the middle of the afternoon the day before yesterday, even during the night. Their prey had died last night, and they had hoped that, with its death, the other swine would leave, but they hadn't. The nearest other trees were too far away to jump to, and the forest was too far away to run to even if they could have gotten past the herd below them.