Waggit's Tale (10 page)

“I tell you one thing,” said Tazar. “I don't think she's a spy. She's a genuine loner. I've seen her many times at the Deepwoods End, always by herself, always staying clear of everyone, Uprights and dogs alike.”

“Well, if I was you, boss, which I'm glad I ain't,” Lowdown continued, “I'd maintain vigilance, but in a low-key kinda way. Double up on eyes and ears at
night, have a quiet word with Cal, and maybe even Waggit. We don't want Alona thinking we don't believe her, 'cause she's going to have a hard enough time fitting in as it is.”

Both dogs stood quietly outside the tunnel entrance for a moment.

“One other thing, boss.” Lowdown broke the silence hesitantly. “It might be a good idea if you spent more time around the camp than you have lately. If we're attacked and you're in some far corner of the park you ain't gonna be much use to us, and, honestly, I'm not sure we could win without you.”

“I have things I have to do that you don't know about. You're going to have to trust me on that,” said Tazar mysteriously and somewhat defensively.

“I don't doubt it,” said Lowdown. “All I'm saying is, we need you.”

 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, much of it spent trying to get Alona to relax. Lowdown had accurately predicted the difficulty she would have doing this, and with the best will in the world, there was little the other dogs could do to help her fit in to
their communal life. She had realized that for her own survival she needed the protection only a group could give her against the two great enemies—the Ruzelas and hunger. Being part of a team even helped combat the cold, something that was becoming a problem for her. But despite all these obvious advantages, she had spent most of her life by herself, depending on no other dog and trusting none either. This was something you couldn't just put down like a stick you were carrying; it would take time for her to make a big adjustment.

Waggit felt sorry for her. He knew from his own experience how hard it was to commit to being part of the team. He tried to make conversation with her.

“I like your name,” he said.

There was no reply.

“They gave me a name too,” he continued. “I didn't have one either when I came here. Mine's Waggit.”

Still nothing.

“I wasn't too sure of it at first.” He pressed on despite the one-sided nature of the conversation, “But now I like it. It's sort of masculine. Yours is very feminine.”

Waggit had run out of topics, for his social skills were not great. So he just stood there, his tail wagging anxiously.

Suddenly Alona whispered, “Tazar don't believe I saw what I saw.”

“You think?” said Waggit, completely taken aback.

“He don't trust me,” she continued in a low voice, “and if he don't trust me I can't stay here; I can't be a team member if I'm not trusted. It's all about trust.”

Now it was Waggit's turn to fall silent. He sat down and scratched his ear, which always seemed to help the thought process. After careful consideration of her statement he said, “I don't think it's that he doesn't trust you. When it comes to security Tazar's very careful. He'll take risks, but he likes to have all the facts before he does.”

“Well, he's going to have to trust me on this one. Nobody's coming back from where those dogs went to tell him I was right.”

This ended the conversation, such as it was, and the two wandered apart.

The meal that night was sparse. The hunting party of Cal, Raz, and Magica had returned with an assortment of small animals, none of which provided much
meat. Tazar, who had taken Lowdown's advice and stayed around for most of the day, authorized the supplementation of the meager spread with food out of the store. When it was really cold the dogs kept any food left over from previous nights in a hole in the ground that they had dug and covered with branches. It was placed so that the sentry on duty could keep an eye on it, for although the branches would have fooled an Upright, any other dog would be able to smell it out easily. Not that there was usually very much in it, mostly items that the dogs didn't like—stale bread, carrots that had fallen off carriages that the horses pulled, or the occasional half-eaten apple tossed away by a human. It was a rare occasion that the store contained their favorite food—meat in any form.

As they were about to sit and consume their modest meal, a long and lonesome howl shattered the silence of the night. All the dogs rushed to the entrance to see where the forlorn sound came from. Sitting on a rock not far from the tunnel was Tashi, his head pointed to the sky, his lips pursed, and his ears flat to his head. Next to him was his evil lieutenant, Wilbur. When he realized who was there, Tazar stepped forward.

“Tashi, we heard bad times have fallen on your team. Indeed we heard that you yourself had been taken,” he said.

“The Ruzela ain't born yet what can take me,” replied Tashi belligerently. “But the team, yeah, it's tough, but they've gone.”

“It's a tragedy.”

“It's a pain in the tail,” answered Tashi, “but it ain't a tragedy. You know you've got to be sharp to survive in the park, and those guys were good, but they just weren't sharp enough.”

“What Tashi means,” added Wilbur in his obsequious voice, “is that though he's personally devastated by the loss of dear friends, he feels you have to move on.” Wilbur spent much of his time trying to explain what Tashi meant.

“Yeah, move on,” said Tashi. “You got to move on.”

“Why didn't they get you two as well?” asked Tazar.

“Well, we was sharp,” said Tashi. “We saw them coming. We was up on the big rocks overlooking the fountain, so we lay low until they went.”

“You didn't try to warn your team?” Tazar was astonished.

“Listen,” barked Tashi, “the first law of survival is:
look after number one. You've got to take…what is it you have to take for your own life?” he asked Wilbur.

“Responsibility,” the other dog replied.

“Yeah, that's it. Responsibility. It's every dog for himself,” Tashi explained, with the air of one well versed in philosophy.

“This is not to mean, of course,” continued Wilbur, “that we wouldn't have warned them if it had been at all physically possible, but frankly, it was too dangerous.”

“Did the Ruzelas get them all?” asked Tazar.

“It pains me to say that they got every last one,” Wilbur replied with very little pain in his voice.

“Look, let's cut out the garbage,” said Tashi, with obvious impatience. “What's done is done. There's no use chewing on old bones. What this means is that Wilbur and me don't have any soldiers left to defend the realm, so we was wondering whether you all would be interested in joining our team.”

“And what team would that be?” inquired Tazar.

“Me and Wilbur's team of course,” replied Tashi, slightly mystified.

“As I understand it your team is in the Great Unknown. We seem to be the only team in this part of
the park, and we've already joined us,” said Tazar. “So it would be more the case of
you
joining
our
team—if we invited you, of course.”

Tashi paused to consider this statement, which obviously put the situation for him in a completely new light.

“Of course,” oozed Wilbur, “it would be an honor for us to be a part of your team, but we just felt that with Tashi's unparalleled skills in leadership it would be to your team's advantage to place themselves under his protection. We would, of course, Tazar, offer you a position of the highest rank within the new organization.”

“Tashi's not a leader.” Tazar growled, getting angry now. “He's a bully. He rules by fear and always has. Anyone who abandons his team to the fate of the Great Unknown in order to save his own flea-bitten hide is no leader in my book.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the Tazarians, who had moved behind Tazar. They advanced a step or two closer to Tashi and Wilbur. Both dogs on the rock regarded this as an aggressive movement. Their hackles rose, and Wilbur took a defensive position behind Tashi.

“Now, fellers,” he said from behind Tashi's back. “Let's talk this over. I'm sure we can come to a suitable arrangement.”

“The only suitable arrangement I'm interested in is for you to get out of our realm right now,” said Tazar.

Tashi stood up on the rock and looked down on Tazar, his small, mean eyes blazing and his strong, muscled body taut and ready to spring.

“You always was a fool, Tazar, and weak as well,” he growled. “You'll live to regret this. There's dogs who would kill to live in my realm; I'll get another team together in no time, and then we'll see who joins who.”

“You don't have a realm,” answered Tazar. “The realm you did have is up for the taking by anyone who wants it and can defend it, and there's nothing you can do about it. As of now you're just a couple of loners.”

Tashi glared terrifyingly at Tazar, and said through clenched teeth, “You are dead, Tazar. You are dead.”

He turned and, closely followed by Wilbur, disappeared into the night.

T
he Tazarians were proud of the way their leader had handled the situation. Tazar himself didn't share their satisfaction. Perhaps it might have been smarter to be less confrontational. He knew that he had humiliated and angered Tashi, and that because of this the other dog would be determined to get revenge.

“I should've treated him different, Lowdown,” Tazar said. “I know I hackled him up, but I was so angry at the way he just abandoned his team. He was their leader, and he should've died for them.”

“Like you said, boss, Tashi's a bully,” replied Lowdown, “and the trouble with bullies is, they don't listen to reason. They only respect power and Tashi's got to realize now that he ain't got none.”

“But that'll eat at him too. I was wrong,” said Tazar. “Tashi isn't a loner and never will be. He's a general without an army, and he'll never rest until he gets one again.”

The two dogs fell silent. It seemed to Lowdown that life in the park was a never-ending series of threats. Sometimes he felt so tired of meeting its daily challenges, and yet he really had no alternative. He was too old and had lived for too long as a team member to become a loner. Besides, he liked the Tazarians. And the only other way out was capture by the authorities and the uncertain future of the Great Unknown. So there was no use being downhearted.

It seemed as if Tazar had read his mind.

“There's no use fretting about it now,” he said. “At least we've got Tashi off our backs for the time being. Let's go join the others.”

With the capture of Tashi's team the rangers had pretty much abandoned their hunt for strays. It was now possible to move more freely throughout the
park without worrying about wandering into Tashi's territory. Even the weather moderated, causing small animals to come out of their holes and be hunted. The greater freedom of movement helped with the food supply in other ways as well. There were certain areas of the park where well-meaning humans came to feed the birds with small piles of bread, nuts, and sometimes pieces of bacon fat. While each pile of food was not great, if the team had access to all of them, it could make a difference. The only problem was that you had to fight off the birds for which they were intended. This wasn't as easy as it sounds, and many a dog's ear had been painfully pecked in the process. Since the bird food was usually too small for the dogs to transport back to the tunnel, Tazar allowed it to be eaten on the spot.

The dogs scavenged in pairs, with Alona, always the odd dog out, joining up with whichever couple invited her. On one such day she was out with Waggit and Lowdown.

She was a strange animal to be sure. She combined extreme shyness with a short temper, and had a habit of defending herself when nobody had attacked her. Despite this, Waggit liked her. She seemed honest,
honorable, and was even, on rare occasions, funny. She always walked about three paces behind whomever it was she accompanied, and called everyone “sir,” except of course Magica and Alicia, to whom she hardly ever spoke.

On this particular day Waggit and Lowdown had decided to familiarize themselves with the portion of their area that was formerly in Tashi's territory. They were excited about being able to go as they pleased without always having to look over their shoulders. Of course, they still had to be wary of human beings in any form, and the police and park rangers in particular, but the dogs were used to this. They were trotting at a brisk pace down by the lake where the boats had been pulled up for the winter and now looked like sleeping turtles resting one upon another. Suddenly Alona stopped and sniffed the air. Because she was in her normal position behind them Waggit and Lowdown didn't notice right away. Then they both turned to see her nose working furiously.

“What're you picking up, Alona?” asked Lowdown.

There was no reply, just more furious sniffing, her head turning from side to side as she tried to locate the direction of the scent.

“Alona, talk to me,” said Lowdown.

“It's around here somewhere, sir,” she said.

“What is, Alona?” asked Waggit.

More silence.

Suddenly she moved forward swiftly, past the other two dogs, her head held high as she followed the scent.

“This way,” she said. “Follow me.”

Waggit and Lowdown did as she said, the two of them now several paces behind her. Then they could smell it as well, and the three of them started to run toward the unmistakable odor of meat.

“It's Stashi's tash,” Alona said, panting from the exertion.

“It's what?” asked Lowdown.

“I think she means Tashi's stash,” said Waggit helpfully.

“Let's hope,” said Lowdown, for Alona showed no interest in correcting herself.

She suddenly stopped. The scent was stronger now, but they couldn't tell exactly where it came from. They were in a lightly wooded area near one of the roads that ran across the park. Getting an accurate fix on the source of the tantalizing meat smell was made more difficult by the light covering of snow that
remained on the ground. Not only does snow have an odor all of its own, which humans can't detect but dogs can, it also traps other scents, all of which added to a smelly confusion.

“Yes, I think you're right. We're close, because I saw them bringing it here too,” Alona said.

The problem with talking to loners was that they tended to carry on conversations inside their heads that they assumed you could hear. It was unnerving when she answered a question that nobody had asked.

“You saw who bringing what where?” asked Lowdown, getting somewhat irritated.

“Swag, sir,” she replied. “Stuff they got from the feeder. Lots of it.”

“How did you see them?” asked Waggit.

“You still think I'm a spy, don't you?” She was suddenly angry. “You think that the reason I know where they took it is because I used to be one of them. Go on, admit it; I know what you're thinking.”

“Alona,” said Waggit patiently, “if I thought you were one of them because you knew where they took it, then you'd know where they took it, which, if you don't mind me reminding you, you don't, which is why we're standing here trying to find where they took it.”

Waggit's grammar may have left a lot to be desired, but his logic was solid. “Oh,” was all Alona could say.

In the meantime Lowdown had gone off to investigate a hole between the roots of a tree. Suddenly there was a sliding sound, a muffled cry, and Lowdown disappeared from sight. Waggit and Alona ran to the hole and peered in.

“Lowdown-down-down, are-ar-ar you-ou-ou okay-ay-ay?” Waggit's voice echoed as he stuck his head in the hole.

“Okay?” Lowdown's voice boomed back, sounding much bigger than usual. “I'm so okay I could spend the rest of my days in here. Come on in and see what I mean.”

It was a much tighter squeeze for Waggit than for Lowdown, but the ice surface that had made Lowdown slide into the hole helped Waggit too. He landed with a thump onto a hard rock floor and looked around.

“Oh my!” was all he could say.

The two dogs were in a natural cave, but it wasn't the cave itself that was remarkable, as much as its contents. There was meat, lots of it, in almost every form. There were sausages of all descriptions, slabs of
bacon, packages of hot dogs and hamburgers, even a couple of steaks. For two carnivores it was the equivalent of heaven. The reason that the scent of meat was so strong was also apparent to the dogs. Some of it had either been put in the cave before the temperature dropped enough to preserve it, or it had already been rotten when it was “liberated” from the restaurant's Dumpsters.

Waggit looked around in awe.

“Gordo will pass out with pleasure when he sees this,” he said.

“For that to happen we're going to have to make that hole a lot bigger,” Lowdown remarked with a snicker.

Alona now stuck her head into the hole.

“Pardon me for bothering, but are you both all right?” she asked. Then, as her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness she said, “Goodness, I didn't realize they had stashed this much. No wonder they always fought so hard to keep the feeder in their realm.”

“There must be enough here to feed everyone in the park for the rest of the Long Cold,” Waggit said excitedly.

“I only wish that were true, little one,” said Lowdown in his wisest voice, “but it won't even keep our team for long. It looks like a lot, but we have many mouths to feed, and, no, Alona, I'm not blaming you, accusing you, or whatever else that look you just flashed me meant.”

Alona's ears went flat on her head with embarrassment.

“No, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I'll be grateful for anything I get,” she said.

“Let's face it,” said Lowdown, “if it wasn't for you we might not have found the stash in the first place, so in fact
we're
beholden to
you.
”

Alona muttered something about it being nothing at all, and that they were welcome, and then her head disappeared.

“Great Vinda, you have to be careful what you say in front of her,” said Lowdown. “Talk about touchy!”

“Well, you know, it takes a loner a while to adjust,” said Waggit. “They're not used to being around other dogs.”

“Oh,” said Lowdown, “and when did you become such an expert on loners?”

“It was just something I heard.” It was Waggit's turn
to be embarrassed now. “I've been around a while now,” he continued defensively.

“Yes, you have,” said Lowdown. “In fact you've been around in this cave much too long. We've got to get back to camp to tell the others about our discovery, and then haul it back to the Risingside.”

Getting out of the cave was a lot harder than getting in. Waggit tried to stretch up and get a grip on the sides of the hole to pull himself out, but he couldn't get high enough. He and Lowdown pushed a box of frozen hamburgers just below the hole, and this gave him enough of a paw-hold that he could pull himself out. For Lowdown, however, the situation was impossible, and they decided that Waggit and Alona should go back to the tunnel and get help, not just to get the food out of the cave, but Lowdown too.

“You will be okay, won't you?” asked Waggit. “We won't be long.”

“Take your time,” said Lowdown. “Don't you worry about me. If necessary I'll snack my way out of any emergency!”

“Okay.” Waggit chuckled. “But don't eat so much that we can't get you through the hole.”

When Waggit and Alona got back to the tunnel the
whole team was there. Gasps of surprise and whoops of joy greeted the news of the discovery, and there was much praise of Alona for finding the hidden treasure. With each compliment she seemed to become more uncomfortable, so everyone concentrated on how to get the meat back to the camp.

Transporting it wasn't a problem; one of the Skurdies had left a broken milk crate near the camp. Gordo volunteered to push it over the ice and snow to the hole and back again. Tazar accepted his offer but wisely said that he thought another dog should go with him for protection. Whether it was for Gordo's protection or the protection of the meat, the leader didn't say, but most of the other dogs had their own ideas.

The biggest problem was getting the food out of the hole and into the crate, and the only solution to this seemed to be putting both Waggit and Magica back down there. They would pass each piece up to Alicia. She had a long and elegant neck that would probably stretch deep enough into the cave to be able to retrieve the items from the mouths of the other two dogs. Alicia wasn't too keen on this, because she thought the chances of getting dirty were pretty high, but she wanted her share of the food, so she reluctantly
agreed. How they were going to get Lowdown out was undecided as they all trooped off to the Goldenside. Gruff stayed as a sentry to sullenly guard the tunnel until their return.

The dogs ran ahead to the cave, leaving Gordo behind, puffing and panting as he pushed the milk crate with his nose. The problem was that it kept on sliding off in a different direction from the one that he had intended, so the faster he tried to push it, the slower he went. When they returned to the stash Tazar put his head into the hole. There was a short, muffled conversation with Lowdown that the others couldn't hear, but when their leader pulled his head back out, he was frowning.

“That's quite a find,” he said. “In fact it's almost too much of a find. There's no way we can store all of that. We're going to have to leave some of it behind.”

Gordo, who had finally puffed his way up, suggested in a panic-stricken voice that he would enlarge their stash in order to take it all.

“No way, Gordo,” said Tazar, “the ground's frozen solid. Even your great paws couldn't make any impression on it.”

“Well,” he replied, “how about we eat all we can
now and then take the rest?”

“So we all end up sick,” said Tazar. “That's a great idea!”

“Does that mean no?” asked Gordo.

“That means no,” said Tazar firmly.

The dogs set about retrieving as much food out of the cave as they thought would fit into their smaller storage spot near the tunnel. When they had filled the milk crate nearly to the top, Tazar called a halt. However, the problem of reclaiming Lowdown still hadn't been solved. The team was thinking about what to do next when Alona came back with a long, dead vine in her mouth. She dropped it in front of Tazar.

“Would this help, sir?” she asked quietly.

“Help?” exclaimed Tazar. “Help? It's perfection. I never saw a finer solution to a problem in my entire life. The team thanks you profoundly!”

“You're welcome, sir,” Alona mumbled. Tazar was now busy organizing the rescue, ordering Cal, Raz, Magica, and Waggit to grab one end of the vine in their mouths, and instructing Lowdown to hold on tight to the end that had been lowered into the hole. Fortunately Lowdown had more than a little terrier in him, and once his jaws were clamped around anything,
it was almost impossible to loosen them without his consent.