It wasn't long before Thumpus' cracking pace was too much for the humans, but at least they were warm again. There was no sign of any pursuit. Thumpus was pretty sure that the bear would not connect the invaders of his territory with the deception. Kamal worked mainly by instinct, and a connection like that was too much for his tiny brain.

If one enemy was evaded, another — dangerous in a different way — was looming. It was snowing hard now, drifting through the trees, turning the woods into a speckled world. At present most of the snow was held off by the forest canopy, but that would change if it went on — and it looked as if it was going to go on. They were still a day out from the village and it was already late afternoon — which meant another night in the open.

Thumpus, feeling somewhat exhausted himself, marshalled the group on at a slower pace, sending to Tesh that they must be well out of Kamal's regular hunting area before they stopped. He seemed to find his way through the forest unerringly. In about another hour he led them to a deep thicket. In such weather, any animal would be glad of night shelter in a thicket this dense, and daytime creatures like humans, even more so.

Prush got a fire going with small sticks under trees so tangled that little snow had come through. Lelesh and the others began to pull fallen logs into a rough shelter. Thumpus sat and panted. He liked showing the humans that he was competent, but he was tired out after three days of emotional misery and such a lot of unwonted physical exertion. Though Tesh and Tash were also tired, they cuddled Thumpus and thought with him.

<Dear, dear old wumping, thumping, scrofulous old fuzz-buzz,> sent Tesh warmly, <how could we live without you? Why on earth did you run away like that? It was only a bit of soap and water!>

Some of Thumpus' resentment returned.

<Nasty!> he sent indignantly. <Wumpii never wash. Thumping Wumpii not humans. Live own lives in own way. Came to you free. Missed you very much. Was coming back,> he ended lamely.

<Oh Thumpus, we are sorry. We're all sorry. We came to find you. We wouldn't have done that if we didn't care. Village people don't often go deep into the forest.>

Thumpus knew this was true. Although he had smelled Minesh and Tansh around, hunting rabbits, he knew they were the only ones.

<Accept apology. Ask respect for new days.>

They were silent for a while, thinking about the silliness that had led to this adventure.

'If only I hadn't agreed to the washing,' thought Tesh to herself, but Thumpus heard.

'If only I hadn't run away,' thought Thumpus to himself, but Tesh heard.

'If only I could send and receive better, I could have stopped it all,' thought Tash to himself. The others received it and cuddled up to him.

Soon the adults made a very rough lean-to with fallen logs. There was plenty of moss around to fill the gaps between the logs, so a shelter, of sorts, they had. They pulled the burning fire sticks over to its entrance as soon as the kettle boiled. There was hottea for everyone. Thumpus licked snow. Tesh shared the inner conversation with the others, and Thumpus was roundly promised he'd never be washed again, though, if he wanted to do it off his own bat, nobody would stop him.

<Wumpii never wash,> was all Thumpus would return. Lelesh groaned, but when Thumpus turned his great yellowish-brown eyes on her, all sad and enquiring, she went up and cuddled him, stink or no stink. Prush felt down into the bottom of his pack and drew out a packet. Unwrapped, it was a smoked rabbit, one of their precious store for winter. He laid it on Thumpus' paws.

'Tesh, tell him I brought it in case we found him,' he said. Thumpus glowed. He had been feeling very hungry, and cheese sandwiches weren't going to be the answer. Everyone else ate cheese sandwiches.

It was now dark and snowing hard. They talked about their adventure with Kamal, clearly the legendary 'death bear' and a really dangerous beast of the forest, though Thumpus assured them he had never known Kamal to leave his territory in the west. Then there wasn't anything else to do but sleep. They all cuddled close to keep warm, except Thumpus, who wandered about a little, to make sure he knew the direction for the morning. The snow was going to be deep. In the end, nobody kept watch, but it was all right — they were sheltered from the snow storm.

Bright light — snow light. Tash opened his eyes to a white world outside their shelter. Tansh had a fire going; the others were stirring but not yet fully awake. Thumpus was nowhere to be seen. Tash shook himself from his snug cover and made for the loo place, a little away from the lean-to. The snow was deep, surely about 30 centimetres, even under the trees, but the sky was clear and frosty. Breath steamed as you let it out and bit as you drew it in. It was cold, but not really cold. Not like the winter cold, which froze you even in the house. Still, it was nice to go back to the little fire, where water was boiling for a hot drink. There was no wind to speak of — the smoke was going almost straight up.

They were all up, eating, and beginning to worry about Thumpus' absence when he returned, licking around his jaws with his long thick tongue. He had found a rotten tree trunk full of grubs — a tasty breakfast!

<Cold tonight,> sent Thumpus. <Village today, if can.> Tash was getting better at thought transfer. He understood, and proudly translated for the others. Tesh smiled at him and nodded. They finished eating quickly, put out the fire and set out.

It was slow walking. Thumpus broke the trail with his big, paddy feet. In the thick of the woods, the snow was shallower, but the underbrush was thicker, with snow all over it, so your trousers got soaked as you pushed through. In thinner patches, the snow was deeper, so walking was hard and your feet got icy. They went single file, to make the best use of Thumpus' hard work at the front. Minesh was rearguard, but Thumpus sent that they needn't worry about Kamal. He would have holed up in this weather. There was now nothing else in this part of the woods to hurt them.

The world around was white and black — black tree trunks standing up from white, snow-covered ground. In places, a pale blue sky showed through the branches overhead. Sometimes a sunlight sparkle would turn a little glade into fairyland. They ploughed on, trusting Thumpus to know the way. The country should have been familiar to Tansh and Minesh now, but all the ground signs they used to find the way were covered in snow.

They had lunch when the sun was highest, but it was too cold to stop for long, and they didn't spend time lighting a fire. On and on they went. Tash was very tired. It seemed much longer than the way out, and ploughing through the snow was much harder work.

Step after step … Tash counted them. His feet were like ice blocks, but he wouldn't give up. He wished they would stop and light a fire. The sky gradually turned a violet colour and darkened towards purple. It was very cold. Tash felt a little dizzy.

<Smell village smoke,> sent Thumpus. <Much worry too.>

Tash couldn't smell smoke, nor could he sense anxiety. Thumpus really was very clever indeed. The thought of how nice Thumpus was, how he was caring for them all, made him feel warm all over for a moment, keeping out the cold. Thumpus picked it up.

<Love you too. Not reach village before dark. What do?>

Tesh shared. Everyone stopped. No-one from the village would come searching for them — no-one went into the woods in the dark. You would lose your way instantly.

'Thumpus knows the way,' said Tash, reassuring the grown-ups. 'He smells the village. People there are worried about us,' he added. 'But I'm tired. Maybe we could camp?'

<Winter cold tonight,> sent Thumpus. <Camp dangerous. Not enough warmth.>

They discussed what to do. They would be totally dependent on Thumpus. But they had been anyway, ever since he'd saved them from Kamal. Everyone was feeling the cold. Thick fur wraps were needed to bear it, which they didn't have, and there was no thicket for a lean-to at this place. It would be hard to light a fire on the snow-covered ground. All agreed it was best to go on.

With the very last of the light, Minesh spied a mark she had made on a tree to find her way when out hunting.

'Two hours to the village,' she said, 'if we go fast.'

Thumpus could have gone much faster, but he was padding carefully to beat down the snow for the others. If he got ahead of them they'd probably become hopelessly lost and frightened in spite of his trail. The smell of the village and the worry centred there were quite clear to him now. Easy to go towards them. But even his paws were beginning to feel icy as the cold night began to bite. Everything was black. You had to be very close together to sense the dark form you were following in front of you.The best way was to put a hand out to feel them. Tash was definitely feeling dizzy. He began to sway from side to side. Then there was nothing.

'Stop!' yelled Prush, behind him. 'Tash has fallen!' They gathered around the boy with much anxiety. Tash was pulled from the ground. Prush felt in his pack and found a little bottle. No-one could see a thing.

'It's Rescue,' explained Prush, his gloves off in the cold, fumbling with the stopper. 'Two or three drops on the tongue should do the trick.' Somehow he managed it without dropping anything to the ground. Within seconds, Tash revived somewhat.

'We'll have to stop.' It was Lelesh. 'He'll not make it to the village.'

'Dangerous for all of us, if we stop,' said Minesh. 'You don't stay out in cold like this.'

There was a momentary, unhappy silence.

<On my back,> sent Thumpus. Tesh translated the thought to the others. There didn't seem any choice.

'Can you hold on?' Lelesh asked Tash.

'Yes.' Tash was determined not to let the party down again.

They lifted him up. He lay forward, legs down each side of Thumpus' hairy back, grabbing hold of Thumpus' fur with his hands.

'Keep your head right down — branches,' instructed Prush. They set off again. Thumpus went slowly, so as not to lose the others. He could sense their tiredness. He was tired too, but a forest animal has extra reserves. He also went slowly so as not to shake Tash off. The boy seemed pretty weak.

Tash gripped tight, head right down. There was nothing to see, but he kept his eyes open. He mustn't get dizzy again. Thumpus' muscles moved under him, and slowly warmth seeped through the animal's fur into his own body. Tash's feet were still numb, but at least there wasn't more icy snow to step in. He began to feel a little better.

On and on they went through the blackness, cold, exhausted, moving automatically. Tesh was right at the end of her strength. One leg moved before the other as if she didn't will it herself. She imagined being a female Thumpus with endless strength, coming home to the lair where her cub was waiting. Thumpus picked up the image and almost stopped, with Tansh bumping into him, before he realised it was Tesh, keeping herself going. There hadn't been a female Thumpus for so long …

Tesh first, then Tash began to be aware of 'worry' somewhere in front of them. They must be getting quite close to home.

'We're nearly there,' gasped Tesh, the words coming out in a funny croaky voice. Nobody said anything. Every step was a battle. At last, there was a faint aroma in the air — wood smoke! More struggling steps. There was a sliver of light from a cottage window! They were coming to the edge of the forest!

The villagers had been having a meeting. In a small, close community like this, everyone was stricken with anxiety. Indalesh, the eldest and wisest, felt torn inside. Winter had hit fast. The storm had been severe; the village was deep in snow and now a bitter cold had set in. If the group were out in this, they might not survive. They should have been back by now. Had something happened to them? Had Thumpus turned nasty? Suresh had said that the beast should never have been brought in at all, least of all should they have sent a party out searching for him, risking their own lives. Other heads nodded.

Should they send out another party after the first? And would that be lost too, in the endless forest? Maybe they should have learnt more about these woods — then they wouldn't be so helpless in an emergency. But it was no use thinking that now …

'Hey, hey, hey! Wake up! We're back!' There were strangled shouts outside. Everyone rushed for the door of the large hut that was the village meeting place. As they tumbled out, the light showed the little group staggering to a halt, snow-covered and dishevelled, Tash still on Thumpus' back, too tired even to get off. They had made it! It was Tesh's turn for the world to spin. Her legs gave way under her, and Lelesh caught her as she fell.

Indalesh had kept a fire going in Prush and Lelesh's cottage. They carried the children in and threw off their sodden clothes, fumbling with bootlaces to free icy feet. Thumpus crawled in after them, trying to be extra careful with his tail. Even he needed the warmth after the icy cold outside. He took up a whole corner of the room, dripping melting snow on to the floor.

The other villagers crowded in.

'What happened?'

'Are you alright?'

'Tell us about it!'

'We're all right. In the morning, in the morning! Thank God for Thumpus!' was all Lelesh could manage to say. After the door had closed, after they had all thawed out a bit, she had just enough energy left to tuck Tesh and Tash into their beds.

The days passed. The story was told and retold and Thumpus was everyone's hero. He spent a lot of time lying on his back being petted. There was not even a splash of another washing! He encouraged Tash's telepathic training; Indalesh discovered some small talent as well, though she had missed too many years to become really good. But nobody else seemed to have the ability. Thumpus could understand their thoughts, but they couldn't read his, or each others'.

The weather relented after the big freeze. In fact, it became positively balmy, as if atoning for the previous days of snow and cold. Prush and Lelesh were building a fine shed for Thumpus. Minesh and Tansh, grateful for their own rescue in the forest, lent a hand. It would be as large as a small room. Thumpus could spread himself out on the raised floor, above the cold ground, in unheard-of luxury. Somebody made a little sign saying 'Thumpus' Place' to nail by the door when it was finished — not that there was anyone who didn't know. Thumpus was extremely proud of his new abode and had to be cautioned by Tesh never to try to wump inside, or it would fall apart. His wumps, frequent now he was happy at being in the village, were carefully executed, away from vulnerable walls, fences and, especially, people.

There was not a person in the village who did not come to pay a friendly call on Thumpus, braving his musty odour — except Suresh. He had been doubtful about sending out the rescue party in the first place, and had been sure that Thumpus himself was responsible for its disappearance. Now, Tesh and Tash reluctantly performed the work promised in return for the tub of honey Thumpus consumed on his ill-fated first visit.

Suresh was single by long choice, grumpy and with a temper which, at times, could rival Kamal's. A good person to leave to himself. But Suresh was brilliant with bees. Bees, of course, give honey, and Thumpus was interested in honey, his favourite treat. So Thumpus stirred himself and went to watch Suresh working with his hives. Suresh was cleaning them out and making sure that just the right amount of honey was left for the bees in winter. He had 30 hives and passed his spare time making more, which he sometimes traded down the hill. He was the nearest thing to a businessman the village had. Most of his honey he exchanged with the villagers, which meant that many things were done for him. Still, he himself kept up a good garden as well as his hives. In his mind were plans for expansion of the honey business. There was an enormous demand for it among the people down the hill. If he could increase production, he could sell the honey there for a better price and make improvements to his house. For instance, you could actually get plated wood stoves now, with a proper hotplate for cooking. Such a stove would keep your place toasty warm using half the wood of an open fire. He thought of replacing his heavy earthenware crockery with fine china, and his rough clothes with fine linen.

Thumpus just sat at the edge of Suresh's patch and watched the fellow busy himself with his hives, smoking the bees, active again in the warm weather, to keep himself from being stung. Suresh pretended not to notice him. After a while Thumpus sent a small thought to the beekeeper, without expecting any answer. He would ask Tesh to ask Suresh for him later, when she had finished her lessons.

<Where get bees?> Thumpus wanted to know. To his astonishment, Suresh picked up the thought perfectly and sent an instant reply. The man was a superb telepath!

<Divide hives from time to time. Sometimes get wild swarms from forest.> Suresh thought just like Thumpus, in a kind of minimal language, wasting no words.

As Thumpus got over his surprise at Suresh's unsuspected talents, a plan began forming in his mind. Suresh wanted bees. Thumpus wanted honey. Because honey was a big thing for Thumpus, whenever he saw bees flying, he traced their direction home and quickly found their nests, some of which had probably escaped from Suresh's fold while swarming. Most of them were too high for him to get at, but he carefully remembered their location. Who knew when the information might come in useful? Now perhaps his meticulousness would pay off. Perhaps with Suresh, things could be different.

<Know many places where wild bees. You catch?>

Suresh looked up from his work at last. This was interesting.

<Can catch,> came the reply. <You take?>

<Honey? Yes!>

<I give you a tenth part all new hives I get through

you.>

Thumpus knew the whereabouts of many nests. A tenth part of all the honey they'd produce would be quite a lot. But what about the rest? That was even more!

<Third part,> he countered, <me a third, you a third, bees a third.>

<Bees need half. Of rest I offer you two-tenths. Otherwise …> Suresh sent a disgusting image. It quite shocked Thumpus. Being just an animal, he'd never been good at working out quantities — he hadn't needed to be.

<OK. Two-tenths.> That seemed like double what he had been offered — a good deal! Thumpus missed that the bees would get half, leaving him having exactly the same amount as Suresh had offered in the first place. Suresh gave a broad grin. He hadn't grinned like that for ages. He could like this funny old Thumpus, who he could talk to without words. But could he deliver?

<When?>

<Tomorrow.>

At this time of year, it wasn't really possible to entice the bees to a portable hive. They were too sleepy to make the effort. But as soon as the sun was up, the pair set off. Thumpus told Tash and Tesh he was off to the woods for the day and, reluctantly, they let him go. It was a beautiful late autumn morning, the trees were majestic in dark green and the occasional bright yellow of a birch whose leaves had survived the snow undaunted. It was deeply still. Thumpus was in a wonderful mood. Suresh, his new-found abilities active, began to share it, in spite of his dour nature.

Thumpus knew that the bees did not nest in the heart of the pine forest, where there were no flowers. He was taking Suresh to an area of rocky outcrops unknown to the villagers about two hours' walk away to the north-east, where the pine trees were scattered, with more clumps of birch and plenty of flowers in spring and summer. There he knew of about ten nests. Others were farther away, more than a day's walk for Suresh, but this would do as a start.

Suresh was a sturdy walker and this time, in his mellow mood, he trusted Thumpus not to get him lost, even though they were going in an unfamiliar direction. Secretly, even he had been impressed by the tale of the rescue and the journey of the search party back to the village. He plodded along, while Thumpus almost danced in his joy at the warmth in the air. There would be few days like this before the spring. Soon the way became steeper, more uneven; they came to more or less open ground. There were still enough trees for bees to find nest holes. A rock-strewn burn danced across the land, sharing their mood.

<Now,> sent Thumpus, <honey spots.>

There were even a few bees still around, searching for a last touch of pollen. He led Suresh to a tree and there, about 5 metres up — too high for Thumpus to reach — was a hole with a large old nest. When he had come here at first he had tried sending its inhabitants away on a wild bees' chase, to pollen fields of unimaginable richness. But even with the guardians gone, he still couldn't access the honey, so he gave up taunting them. The bees, secure for now, grinned down at him — he was sure of it. But in the spring things would be different. Suresh gazed up, assessing the site with a practised eye, and marked the tree carefully, so only he would recognise the mark. There was no competition, but you couldn't be too careful. He would come back with light travelling hives when the bees were active again.

By lunchtime the pair had marked more than half of Thumpus' spots. They sat on rocks in a clearing by the stream. Suresh unwrapped a large piece of honeycomb and some black bread and gave some to Thumpus. He provided the food as the price of guidance and, although it hurt him, he did want to impress Thumpus with the quality of his honey. Thumpus was duly impressed and speedily demolished it.

<Wonderful honeycomb,> he sent. <Watch out, must have wump!> As Suresh hastily stood back, he swung his enormous tail and beat the ground, sending a roaring tremor through the woods. The more open ground magnified it.

Far, far away, so far across the mountains that you could hardly imagine it, another being who happened to be aware at the same time, picked up the faintest echo of the tremor, like a seismograph picking up a trace of a faraway earthquake. She knew what it was! Stunned, she returned her very loudest wump. There was no way that Thumpus could have heard it, but his telepathic brain registered the faintest something, at the very periphery of consciousness. He stood up excitedly and turned in the direction of the feeling. A female Thumpus Wumpus! He had given up believing that one still existed … A mate …

He looked towards the shimmering white-capped peaks, faintly visible in the early afternoon haze. She was beyond them, he knew it. And there he would have to go. It would be the mother of all journeys. No way he could do it before the spring. Even a Thumpus would not cross those mountains at this season of the year. When it got warm… He wumped again, a magnificent effort. Everything in his life was changing. Dear friends, a warm den for the snows to come, and now, potentially, a mate. Life was just wonderful.

Suddenly, Suresh, standing by — dour, sour, surly, angry Suresh — began to cry. Thumpus had not tried to disguise his feelings. He had sent with all the energy he possessed — and a tiny crack opened in Suresh's wizened old heart. His first sobs were like the creaking of a rusty gate, but soon, as they gained momentum, the tears ran and ran — a dam opened, a barrel breached. Thumpus looked on amazed, sensing the years of pain, loneliness and misery locked up inside that flinty old heart. Then, remembering his own state until so recently, he too began to howl, accompanying Suresh's heaving sobs. The bee man cried on and on, releasing an epoch of misery. With another human, he couldn't have done it, he was too proud. But Thumpus was an animal, not a person. He howled on and Thumpus yowled with him.

Far away in the village, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up as strange echoes wafted across the trees. Tesh heard, inside, and was worried for a moment, but then, suddenly, her mood became almost euphoric. Nothing was wrong, really.

It seemed that Suresh would cry for days. The sun dropped low in the west. The location of the remaining bees' nests was forgotten. Thumpus nudged the still weeping Suresh.

<Must go now,> he sent. <Light gone soon.>

They trudged back through the woods. With the walking, Suresh's tears abated. The flood had opened a way to a Suresh locked away inside him almost since babyhood. For the first time in years he felt innocent, even hopeful. Things could be different. He looked gratefully at Thumpus, the unwitting cause of his release.

'What a wonderful animal,' he thought to himself. Thumpus heard. Such a thought from Suresh was praise indeed. He felt warm along his back fur. A picture of a grateful Suresh ladling out great spoonfuls of honey to Thumpus came to his mind and he hastily suppressed it, hoping Suresh hadn't noticed. Suresh, however, was too busy with his own new thoughts. As dark closed in they reached the edge of the village clearing.

Prush and Lelesh continued to work hard on Thumpus' new winter quarters, making good use of the warm spell. Tesh and Tash helped. It was part of their education to learn how to build the kind of rough but comfortable wooden houses the villagers lived in and already Tash and Tesh were quite good carpenters, though they couldn't carry the big logs for the house by themselves. Amazingly, Suresh came a couple of times to help. Everyone commented on the change in him, and some suspected it was connected with the trip with Thumpus to find bees' nests. People thought even better of Thumpus — the village was a happier place when Suresh was in a good mood.

The other villagers didn't help with the house, apart from making encouraging comments — they were much too busy getting things organised for winter. Without freezers, food had to be bottled and pickled, or salted and preserved and the last vegetables harvested and stored. As well, wood needed to be cut and piled for winter fires, the gaps in timbers (revealed by the first cold spell) sealed with mud and moss, and winter clothes inspected for moth holes and patched. Also, Indalesh, who was not so physically capable as the others, had to be assisted so her house would be as cosy as possible for the winter. Luckily, Prush and Lelesh always made a point of getting as much done early as they could so they weren't behind in their tasks, even though Thumpus' appearance had been very distracting.

They built the new structure close to their own, so the houses could give protection to each other. There were no shops to buy timber from, so everything had to be cut down from the forest and then smoothed and notched into place with the other timbers. Since metal items had to be brought from the lowlands far away and cost an arm and a leg, they used the village's only wood drill to make holes in the notched beam ends and knocked wooden pegs in them to keep things together. The floor was simple — beaten earth was carried in to raise it from the surrounding area with straw added to keep the cold at bay. The roof was hardest. Logs were notched to a central beam and pegged together. Lots of cuts, already made in them with an axe, held hundreds of small crosspieces. Turf was upturned on top. The final layer was birch bark, fixed in place from the bottom up.

The hut that emerged was much simpler than a house. Without a chimney, it was only one room, with quite a small roof, and a large opening, almost the whole of one end, facing the sunny side for Thumpus to get in and out comfortably. No Thumpus Wumpus had ever had such a house before. Winter in the mountain forests was cold, damp and unpleasant with little food, and shortened the life of many Wumpii. Thumpus saw the effort that was being made for him and tried to help, getting in the way and rolling on his back to be cuddled at crucial moments.

<Oh Thumpus, you bumbling old pot,> sent Tesh for the umpteenth time as she tripped up over the beast's tail, sending an armful of birch bark strips flying, <how can we finish your house if you keep getting in the way? Away with you and catch a rabbit or two for dinner.>

They had found that their new companion had one or two skills besides being warm and friendly. For one thing, he was a pretty good rabbit hunter, confusing the hapless creatures with inner messages till they more or less ran into his paws. There were plenty of rabbits around until the real cold descended on the forest, and Thumpus used to catch them and store them in special holes in old trees to eke out his winter diet. He didn't mind them a bit putrid — Wumpii have iron digestions. Now he brought them fresh to Lelesh to be hung, salted and stored — a much better plan.

Ruefully, he made for the woods. He was only trying to be supportive but they always sent him away. He concentrated on the nice winter house he would have, so as not to get resentful. After a while he forgot it all, engrossed in a game of delusion with the poor rabbit folk.

Although the work was hard, it was not long before Thumpus' rude hut was standing complete beside the family house, with a good layer of straw to supplement his shaggy fur. Suresh's help was invaluable. They realised he was a very good builder, probably the best in the village.

Thumpus crawled in, delighted, and wallowed in the fresh straw. This would be the best winter ever. Just what a Thumpus needed and deserved, next to good friends and companions. If he could have grinned, he would have done so. Instead, he crawled out, covered with straw like a scarecrow, cast a leery eye around the builders and raised his tail for a wump of appreciation.

<No!> yelled Tash suddenly, sending at the same time. <You'll knock the whole thing down!

<Do it over there,> he continued somewhat more gently, as the crestfallen Thumpus paused in mid-swipe.

'Can't do anything round here without being shouted at and pushed around,' thought the animal. 'What an awful winter it's going to be.' But running away again didn't enter his head. At least nobody tried to wash him any more — they seemed to be getting used to his BO.

The new hut had to be celebrated. Tesh and Tash built a big bonfire with all the bits and pieces of wood left over from building the hut and Indalesh prepared a big stew in her largest cook pot. As dusk brushed away the red sunset and the stars began to watch, the whole village gathered around the fire, everyone bringing something. Suresh was there, though normally he never came to celebrations. They formed in a semicircle around the new hut, young and old alike holding hands. There were only 23 people, but it was their community. Everyone closed their eyes. Indalesh, as the oldest, led the ritual.

'We appreciate this new hut,' she intoned. 'We appreciate the people who built it, the tools that they used, the forest that gave the wood, our special new animal friend, Thumpus, who will live in it, the shelter it will give, the sun and stars that will look down on it, the rain and snow that will fall on it, the earth which supports it, our village that surrounds it. Let us bless it as a new part of the mystery that enables everything to be created, to exist and to pass away.'

'Aye,' said everyone together. They squeezed hands, let go, opened their eyes and the simple ceremony was over. Thumpus' own eyes shone. He didn't understand the words, but he could feel the beauty of the blessing — like the moonshine in the silent forest, or sun glittering on the waters of a stream, or the white of snow-covered peaks far away against blue sky. A wump was essential. He backed away from the group to an open space and swung his tail. The earth resounded with a satisfying, releasing boom.

The fire was lit, food brought out, and then it was story-telling time. Since there were no televisions, no videos, and no cinemas, stories were very important, and the villagers were very good at telling them. You told stories to relive the important things that happened, and to keep them in your memory for the next generation. Your imagination took the words of the story and clothed them in images and pictures.

As the evening wore on and potatoes baked in the fire's ashes, the events of Thumpus' arrival were retold. Then Suresh indicated that he would like to speak. It was unprecedented — Suresh had never spoken at a story-telling. He had hardly ever even attended one. Hesitantly at first,he told the story of how he had arrived in the village, of why he had been so surly and miserable, and of how Thumpus had changed him. After he had finished, everyone was still for a long time.

And then Thumpus began to send a story to Tesh. It was the story of the wild woods where he had lived so long, of places and things there that the villagers didn't know about, and of many other things …

Very late, after midnight, everyone reluctantly left the embers of the fire and went to their homes, children cuddling close to their parents. It was the last open-air story-telling of the year, because the weather changed next day: the cold set in and inside was the place to be. But these two stories were so special that they deserve to be retold, which is what I shall do next.

'We were out finding bees' nests for next spring,' began Suresh. Telling his story was hard, but if he was going to hold on to the new Suresh, the real Suresh, he had to share, at last, with his community. It was scary, but an intuitive feeling told him he would not be judged, that everyone would support him.

'It was a beautiful afternoon. Thumpus heard something far, far away that came from another Thumping Wumpus — a female. He was so happy. He thought of a mate in the spring, and dear friends and warmth and comfort over the winter, things he hadn't had before.'

'How did you know?' interjected someone.

'I seemed to be able to communicate directly with him, just like Tesh and Tash,' said Suresh. Tash was very pleased he had been included. His abilities were nowhere near as developed as Tesh's, but he was working hard at it.

'Feeling Thumpus' happiness, my heart opened at last, and I began to cry. It want on and on, for hours. Thumpus howled with me.'

People nodded: everyone in the village had sensed something that afternoon. Heads turned, appreciatively, to Thumpus.

'After that, I felt like a new person,' continued Suresh, 'so I want to share my story. It's a sad one,' he added, to prepare them.

'I was born in a village by the sea far, far away, many days' journey from here. It was a poor place and my parents were poorer than most — except in children. My mother had given birth to 12 — and 10 were living. I was the youngest one.'

There were gasps from the listeners. People in the village loved children, but it was unusual to have more than two or three. Rightly or wrongly, they felt that they could be cared for better that way.

'It was a rough life. I remember always being hungry, but I loved my parents and my brothers and sisters and they loved me. Perhaps I was spoiled because I was the youngest. We would play on the shore, mend nets and help Dad clean the fishing boat that gave us our food and what money we had. Dad caught fish; Mum sold them to everyone else.'

The older people in the village knew about sea fish. Once, a small basket of salted fish had been traded to the village for logs. They were smelly and tasted pretty bad, but it was winter and they were a useful addition to the limited diet. They had given people the idea of salting the small trout they caught in the streams nearby to preserve them for winter.

'One day, when I was about four, I think, people came from the town. They said we village folk had too many children and couldn't look after them properly. They said we would be better looked after by people in the town. So they grabbed us — all the younger ones. We ran away, but they caught us. They shoved us onto carts pulled by horses. They had to tie us in or we would have jumped out. Almost every family in our village lost children. Five were taken from our family. It was a terrible day, the worst day of my life — us kids screaming, parents weeping and trying to get to us, held back by soldiers with spears. Bundled up and tied into the carts in just the clothes we wore, we were taken off and away, no-one knew where. That was the last I ever saw of my family and my village.'

People gasped.

'Did you ever go back to find them?' asked Tansh. He could hardly believe people could do things like that to other people.

'How could I?' answered Suresh. 'The land down there is huge. There are hundreds and hundreds of villages like mine, and big, smoky towns, where people lived worse than we did.

'Anyway,' he continued, 'we travelled for days. All the time the group was getting smaller. I was the last of my family to be dropped off. It was in a town far down the hill, where there's a place, a Home for children whose parents have died or things like that. It was just horrible. The food was worse than even I had had and the water tasted foul, but you couldn't get ill or they beat you. Nobody really cared about you unless there was an inspection, when we were all dressed in smart clothes and given a good meal. After the inspector went away, things were as bad as before.

'I wanted to die, but something made me go on living. I kept quiet and tried not to be noticed. That way you didn't get beaten so much. But inside I was angry, full of rage at what they had done. So if I got the chance I did nasty things, cruel things. It seemed to help, but it didn't really. I spent years and years in that place. I grew up bitter and surly. The only thing that saved me was the bees. I used to watch them getting nectar from the flowers in the garden and going back to their nest. It reminded me of the big family I'd been part of.'

Suresh paused to wipe a tear from his eye. Several of the others were doing the same.

'When I got older I was apprenticed out to a carpenter. He was a hard man with no love for a stray child forced on him and it was not much better than the Home. But at least I learnt something useful from it. Finally, I left the Home; had to fend for myself. I got odd jobs that kept me alive.

'I was bitter from head to toe. The worst was, I was bitter to myself. I thought I was no good. I would probably have spent my life drinking and been in and out of jail, but one good thing happened. I was turning to stealing and the bottle when I did a job for a beekeeper, helping him build hives. He saw I loved the bees, that I had a way with them, and he offered me work helping mind them. He had hundreds of hives, too many for him alone. He was mean enough, but being with the bees was about the only thing I liked. With them, I didn't feel so bad. I despised humans, yet I could live with bees!

'So I went on. It was a lonely and unhappy life. I was grumpy and miserable to the rest of the world, but the bees gave me peace. I wandered from place to place, staying here and there for a while, getting farther and farther from the home I was brought up in. Finally, I got as far as I could go, which was here, where the endless forest begins. You were kind enough to give me a place as a beekeeper, I built my hut and lived my surly years.

Now things have changed, thanks to Thumpus. He gave me hope in a hopeless world, tears in eyes that had forgotten them, and I realise what a very good, special place this is. I thank you for putting up with me till now. And I'm sorry!'

As Suresh finished his sad tale there were tears in the eyes of the villagers. Many moved to hug him and he started to cry again. But this time the tears were of happiness, of acceptance and transformation. Eventually, Suresh went to his house and brought a big jar of honey to share with everyone.

Things settled down. All now turned to Thumpus. The hairy beast shifted a bit, looking at people with sidelong glances from his big brown eyes. He knew they wanted a story from him, but, being only an animal, he couldn't speak. He looked at Tesh, and Tesh nodded, with shining eyes. She would translate his thoughts and images into human words.

This was what she said on Thumpus' behalf:

'I am from the long woods,' she translated, 'the woods that go on for ever, or almost. The woods that surround the white mountains far away.

'None of you know the woods. None of you have explored them. I hope you will one day, but do not bring the towns Suresh talked about to the woods, for they are too precious.

Among the trees I was often lonely. Thumping Wumpii are the rarest of the animals and I never met another. The trees gave me comfort. Even now I am with you and no longer lonely, I must go back to the woods often. That is my belonging place.

'The trees are living beings, but they are not like humans or animals. They are like ants or bees — collective.' Thumpus gave a warm glance to Suresh, who was clearly following his story inwardly, not hearing Tesh's words. 'They are aware enough, but they can't move or act; the Wood Beings organise and control them, beings that only inner eyes can see. They care for the smaller animals that you know.

Around here, the woods are very quiet. The big animals keep away from where you humans live. The nearest is Kamal.' Tesh's voice shook a little as she mentioned the name. 'There are more of his kind in the woods, as well as his smaller relatives. Farther away begin the ones that run in packs. They are fast, but not so large. Sometimes when they are happy and enjoy the moon, they howl a bit — like me.'

Thumpus leered round — in a human, it would have been a smile.

'They eat the ones with horns, the big, gentle grass-eaters. Farthest away are the most fearful of all, the striped ones, who hunt very quietly, and are clever. Beware of the striped ones. Only a Thumping Wumpus can deceive them, but even we keep out of their area, for now we are few, very few.'

Thumpus stopped sending for a moment, thinking of how few. At least there was one other — if she survived till spring. Then he continued, via Tesh:

'There is also the Great Being.'

As she continued to translate, Tesh gasped at the image.

'It lives high in the mountain and it flies, though it is huge. Its tail is longer than mine and it breathes fire, which all the animals and the trees fear most. Only rocks enjoy that. It is the guardian of all, forest and mountain, river and clearing, animal, fish and insect. It understands all of them, and all bow down to it. It was not born, it does not die, nor does it get older. It speaks with the beings of the woods and organises everything in its own way. I have only seen it only once, from far away. It is awesome. I can't be sure if I saw it in my head or outside.'

There was a long silence as people tried to take the words in.

'What about thumps?' someone said after a while. 'Tell us about them.'

Thumpus cast a hard look at the speaker. He didn't like the term 'thump'; it did not show proper respect to a Thumping Wumpus.

It was Rensh, husband of Wilash, and the father of three young children, Nilish, Sharish and Varsh.

'Young and inexperienced,' thought Thumpus disparagingly. Tesh did not translate, but Suresh smiled and Tash giggled.

Nevertheless, he politely answered Rensh.

'Thumping Wumpii are the oldest of the animals, apart from the Great Being,' Tesh went on translating. 'The story is that we were once the agents of the Great Being, who needed help to get things organised at the start of time. That is why we can read and send thoughts — to communicate with him. As time went on and things mostly looked after themselves in the forest lands, we gradually became fewer and fewer. There are hardly any of us left now. We are gentle, peaceable creatures, eating only roots and plants.'

At this point Tesh and Suresh both looked hard at Thumpus. There was no doubt that he enjoyed the odd rabbit, mouse, grub and any other small animal or insect that gave him half a chance to eat it. Thumpus stared blandly at them over the ring of rapt listeners around the fire.

<You old ratbag!> sent Tesh. <You're pretending to be an angel and you aren't one at all!>

<Angel?> was all the sneaky old beast returned.

'Go on, Tesh!' said someone. 'Is something wrong?'

Tesh sighed. He was incorrigible. Thumpus began sending again.

<Gentle and peaceable,> Thumpus reiterated, and Tesh carried on translating. 'We are actually sociable animals, but now there are so few of us, we are mostly alone. Sometimes we never meet another of our kind. But the woods are our friends and we usually outwit the violent animals and send them in the other direction while we get out of the way. We rarely come to any harm from them. With our wumps and howls we give voice to the joy of the woods.'

'Why do you wump mostly at night?' asked Minesh.

'Because the woods come alive at night,' translated Tesh. 'You sleep at night. We sleep any time, but as the sun goes down, the trees wake up and the tree spirits begin to move among them. You must have noticed how strong the trees are then.'

Everyone nodded. The woods did get stronger and spookier as the dusk grew. The young ones shivered. There were tales of the ghosts and strange beings haunting the forest when the dark closed in.

'It is wonderful to be with the trees when the full moon dapples silver and shadow over everything, when a breeze shifts the branches. Everything shimmers in the woods then — who wouldn't want to give a wump?' Thumpus sent the image so strongly that everyone picked it up. It was scary, but incredibly beautiful.

'In the spring,' Tesh took up Thumpus' final images 'come with me to the woods. There may be a time when you will have to come, for the lands that Suresh spoke of are greedy. Soon they will exhaust the woods they still have. Then they will come here and cut and cut and cut. To stay happy, we will have to travel far.'

These last words shocked everyone. Thumpus had lifted his head and closed his eyes. Even he was not sure where the thoughts had come from. Nobody wanted to hear them. Life was good at the edge of the woods. Few people came, few people left. The awful world of Suresh's story seemed far away. Slowly, talking quietly to themselves, people got up and drifted away to their houses. Thumpus' words had put a questionmark over their lives. The storytelling was over.

All had departed for bed, leaving Thumpus after many strokings and cuddles. Tesh and Tash were very moved. They had experienced his story directly, especially the strange energy that surrounded Thumpus' last words.

The last embers died. Like other animals, Thumpus had an aversion to fire, but he realised that humans seemed to live by it, cooking things, warming their hairless skins. He was getting used to it.

Thumpus entered his new house to sleep for the first time. He was not sure where the thoughts that had ended his description of his forest home belonged. He was afraid they had come from the Great Being itself. He had shared that Thumping Wumpii had been the agents of the Great Being in bygone ages. So his mother had shared with him. But he had never had such a message before, as if a warning was being given. He didn't want to be a messenger of bad news. He settled on the fresh straw, snuggling in to make a nest in it. This, at least, would be a good winter. Normally he would have been wakeful. Tonight, exhausted after the evening, his head went between his paws and he slept.

Tesh slept too. After a while she began to dream. In her dream there were people in the village, lots of them, ignoring the villagers, cutting down trees, making great swathes through the forest. Everywhere there was noise, dirt and smoke. A group of men with big carts came out of the smoke, grabbed Thumpus and put chains on his legs. For all his struggles he could do nothing and was dragged off into one of the carts. Tesh screamed and screamed at the men but they paid her absolutely no attention at all. She awoke to find Tash shaking her shoulder.

'Tesh, you'll wake the whole place! What's the matter?'

'Had a nightmare.' Tesh found herself shivering. 'Tell you in the morning.' If she shared it now, Tash might start getting nightmares too. 'Go back to sleep.'

For a long time Tesh lay awake, troubled. The village was quiet. No-one would come up here in the winter, anyway. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep again.

The winter passed. It was not the worst they had known, nor the gentlest. Sometimes the snow lay deep, at other times it melted away in a brief mild spell. Thumpus became accepted as a village resident. People even got used to his smell. On mild nights he ventured out to check the woods; mostly, he lay around and got a lot of petting from the children of the village. He was still especially close to Tesh and Tash. Tash found that, with practice, he could understand thoughts better — but only from Thumpus. He and Tesh could not communicate together without words, nor with Suresh, who often visited to exchange thought pictures with Thumpus. Indalesh could sometimes understand Thumpus, but had trouble sending her own thoughts, though Thumpus picked up more than he let on. No-one else in the village seemed to have the ability.

Gradually, the days began to lengthen. The trees thought of spring, the plants and animals picked it up: green appeared on the forest floor and bird song echoed around. Thumpus was restless. Every night he went to the woods, ranging from the edge of Kamal's territory to the beehive glades and beyond, in the direction of the white mountains. Sometimes he would be away for two or three days at a time. He explained it was to get rid of his winter fat, but Tash and Tesh were sure something else lay behind it. Suresh just nodded and went on making hives, laboriously cutting boards till he'd used all his precious screws and nails, and begged for more around the village. The sun lifted its head and shone warm between rain showers.

In Thumpus' mind was the vague tremor the earth had brought him last autumn, the tremor that meant the possibility of a female of his species somewhere beyond the faraway mountains. He made his most massive wumps in the clearing where he had felt the vibration before, but could sense nothing in return. It seemed crazy to set out without the slightest indication that he had been right all those months ago. He began to lose weight, wandering restlessly, always shifting a little towards the high peaks far away.

It was on a still night, with the full moon overhead making magic of the woods, that he finally heard it. A sound, or tremor, so distant that it might have been wishful thinking rather than reality. A wumping sound, the sound of a female Thumping Wumpus pleading for a mate. Thumpus knew he must go, there and then. What if there were another male Wumpus in range of that faint call? He became a bundle of instincts. He must be there first. But before he was torn away to the far distance, he sent his strongest thought back to the village.

<Seeking mate. Back one day.> It was Tash who picked up the thought. He often slept restlessly at full moon, and was lying staring at the pale light at the window and the shadows it made in the room. He woke Tesh without hesitation.

'Tesh, Tesh, wake up! Thumpus has gone. He sent a message from far away. He's looking for a wife. He sent he'd be back sometime.' Tesh, half-asleep, groaned. A sense of foreboding filled her. Everything was going to change now.

The message sent, nothing could hold Thumpus back. He didn't know if anyone had heard, but he just couldn't think any more about that. Gone was the tame Thumpus of the fireside, sharing thoughts with human friends. He had become a wild Thumpus of the woods, all alertness and energy. He could almost feel the last of the winter fat shedding from him as he moved at a brisk pace past thicket and clearing. Yes, a Thumpus could move in a way no humans could match. He was almost happy to have left. He was free!

The kilometres passed under his endlessly padding feet. As the sun took over watch from the moon, he took a short nap and a drink. Then he was on his way again till he was far beyond the area he had roamed in the last few years. Yet he had come this way once, he was sure. Perhaps the Great Being assigned the thumping wumpii to different areas of the forest as caretakers and sent them out to do their work. For a moment he pictured the Being, high in the mountains, a dragon of dragons. The Being seemed uneasy, and he let the thought go, concentrating all his energy on the journey ahead.

The land rose; boulders were sprinkled between the pines; through the trees the white mountains shone a little nearer. As night fell, Thumpus remembered hunger; there was a rotting log filled with grubs, a carpet of wood sorrel to graze. Wood sorrel was good. He moved on. There was plenty of water from the melting snows in rivulets everywhere. Sometimes he had to leap a stream and, occasionally, to jump from rock to rock across a torrent. The moon shone fitfully; at its highest, Thumpus sensed the call again, half-sound, half-feeling: <Come.>

<Coming!> he returned, fatigue forgotten, and was off again through the trees and rocks.

As day followed day, it snowed lightly, then drizzled, and the wind blew cold. Still Thumpus pressed on, picking up morsels to eat when he could. He was growing really thin. He felt as if his skin was a coat the humans put on, loose where the fat had been. Once a pack of hunters, the wolves, sensed him and showed interest. He sent an image of a group of horned ones, elk, far off to the left and the wolves turned away in haste. He caught a hare by chance and gobbled it down. Once he came across a patch of good roots. But he didn't spend time hunting for food. The sense of another was stronger now.

In the foothills of the mountains he was skirting there were obstacles. Fast-flowing mountain rivers ran down, some of them too wide to jump. Much as Thumpus disliked it, he swam the icy waters. Even in his haste, he had to stop and wander up and down the banks till he found places where he would not be swept away. Still he went on, peaks always to his right, the land falling away steeply to the left. Once he came to a deep, sheer-sided gorge, with a big torrent boiling far below. Then he had to detour kilometres up river till he could leap perilously from rock to rock across the melee of waters. He was becoming aware of a deep exhaustion, but he still pushed himself onward.

In the end he had to sleep — his feet were faltering under him, dangerous in such rough country. He found a rock shelf which might give him some protection from predators and curled up. It was early afternoon. When he awoke, the moon was shining, the night well begun.

<Well,> came a thought into his head, <I to you; you to me. Find you sleeping at end. Maybe you too dozy to be right one.>

Thumpus snapped awake. He was cornered! His special place was a trap. He gave his best growl and prepared to fight to the end. Then he realised — the communication was inside. Another Wumpus! She must be the one he sought!

<Tired,> he sent back. <Too far travel without rest. Who?> he continued simply.

<Males always tired. No stamina.> Suddenly he made her out, at the edge of the rock shelf. Her odour was irresistible.

<Will have to do. No other contact.>

As Thumpus came fully awake he realised his blessing. At the end of his strength, she had found him! He knew he should strike the right pose, be strong and masterful — but the master was his stomach. A dreadful, empty ache there dominated every other feeling. Now that his quarry had been found, all that had been suppressed to get to her welled up.

<Starving,> he sent out involuntarily.

<Of course. First thought — sleep. Second thought — food. How long since mate?>

<Never,> Thumpus had to admit.

She was silent a moment.

<Journey?> she asked, more gently.

<Whole moon. Fast.>

<More than half a moon.> She didn't send, <fast> but he sensed she'd moved as quickly as he had. <Heard across one and a half moons. Where are Wumpii? All gone?>

<Only mother ever seen; everything learnt from her.> The two animals looked at each other, realising the extremity of their isolation. As they looked, a bond formed between them. Thumpus knew she would not leave if he ate.

<Three seasons no mate,> she sent, sadness in her sending. <Pupless, lonely.>

<Found 'humans',> he returned. <Friendly, loving. Some inside-speak. Live with.> He sent pictures, of Tesh and Tash, all surrounded with love; of Suresh, lonely like Thumpus; of all the others, with their pink skins covered in clothes; of the village, of his house. She was amazed, could hardly believe it.

<Real? Strange animals. Maybe something like beyond my area. Will check on return.>

<Real!> he confirmed, and then, urgently, <Food? Hungry!>

<Eaten. Good roots.> She sent an image of lots of them, maybe an hour away. Could he get there? He'd have to!

Thumpus stood up and stretched, trying to be nonchalant, to give a good impression. She thought he was a skinny wreck, but suppressed it. Maybe food and a bit of rest would improve him.

Every muscle he had seemed to be aching at once. He stretched again, as if to draw strength from the air, and moved towards her.

<Take to food?> he asked lamely.

<Poor old thing,> she returned, sarcastic again. <Yes, take.>

It was just 15 kilometres, but it seemed the longest journey he'd ever made. She led the way, often looking back pityingly on him. He knew her dilemma — he was her only chance, but he was so unfit, maybe not fit enough to give her a cub. Now that he'd stopped, he realised how soft he'd become over the winter.

Eventually they reached a large clearing. It was an ocean of roots. He'd never seen so many together. His mood changed. Happily he started scratching at the earth. Later, full up, he slept. When he woke, hungry again, his new partner was nowhere to be seen. Day was breaking. He wumped gently. No answer. He wumped again, loudly, anxiously.

<Over here,> she sent imperiously. She was downwind of him, only a few hundred metres away, but had masked her thoughts. While he slept, she had found a wild bees' nest in a rotten stump, and her claws and teeth opened it up as the bees searched for a heavenly meadow elsewhere. There was even some honey over for Thumpus. Perhaps she had deliberately left it. Perhaps she cared after all? He licked it up gratefully. She came up to him, nuzzling alongside him, open and receptive. He had some energy now. They mated and were happy together.

At the village, Thumpus was not just missed by those closest to him. His good-natured, easygoing manner had endeared itself to all. The people were intrigued by his journey and wondered what the outcome would be. Tash and Tesh were confident that Thumpus would return. They speculated that he might be accompanied by a wife, perhaps even by an adorable baby Thumpus as well.

At first, life went on as usual, but not long after the departure of their new friend, unexpected visitors arrived at the village from downhill. Although there was no road to the village, somehow three carts pulled by pairs of sweating horses managed to get there, the drivers using locally unknown words as they struggled to get over rocks, roots and boggy patches. Almost everybody not away working turned out for their arrival. It was a first for many people who had never seen a cart before. Since there were no roads and little transport, feet or, at best, a horse sufficed for the villagers' needs.

The carts pulled to a halt just before the houses. Suresh creased his brow, instantly worried at the implications of the unexpected arrival. Other adults held back, not wanting to seem too curious, but the children were excited by the diversion. They wanted to pet the huge cart horses, but were shooed away by the drivers.

'Little savages,' said one to his mates as they tended the animals. 'There'll be some changes made here, alright.' The others nodded. One spat openly on to the ground, the other pulled out a tube from his pocket, lit it, coughing and blew smoke all around, laughing as the children, who had never seen a cigarette before, backed off. Meanwhile, a portly man in very fancy clothes dismounted clumsily from one of the carts. This was truly the end of the world, he thought, eyeing the rough huts, the goat pens and the line of forest beginning just beyond the village cluster.

'Children,' he said imperiously, 'take me to the village headman.'

Tesh and Tash could feel the contempt behind the words. Same feeling came from the others.

'We don't have a headman,' Tesh took it on herself to reply, as the oldest child present. 'We decide big things together. But Indalesh is the oldest and wisest.'

'No matter,' returned the man. Tesh thought of him as 'Porky'. 'Take me to him.'

Tesh and Tash left the group of children gawping at the horses and took the man over to Indalesh's place. She had come out to see the carts struggling up the hill, but had returned to her house as they arrived. It felt better.

'Indalesh, there's a man wants to see you,' cried Tash, running ahead and knocking at the door. Indalesh came out and stood at the threshold. The bad feelings she was having instantly centred on the man approaching her. He stopped about 2 metres away, looking disdainfully.

'Woman, take me to your husband,' he said.

'My husband is long dead. I am Indalesh, elder of this village,' she replied, with a touch of pride. 'What can I do for you?'

The man stepped back, a little startled. 'A woman!' he said, under his breath. Then he stepped forward again.

'The Grand Archduke, blessed be his name …' he began importantly, but Indalesh interrupted him.

'You must be tired after your journey,' she said. 'Would you like a cup of tea? Come in.'

The man hesitated. Then he nodded and entered the house after her. 'Placate the natives,' he thought. 'No harm in creating a good impression.' The children followed.

For the first time, Tesh found herself aware of what was going on in another human being's head. 'Perhaps because he is so strange to us,' she thought. She had never considered understanding human thoughts before; she had thought she could only communicate with Thumpus like this. This man seemed to regard them as some sort of insect. Tash fidgeted beside her. He seemed to be suppressing anger. Perhaps he was reading the man's thoughts as well. He had come on a lot before Thumpus left.

Indalesh had water on the hob and made an infusion of hyssop and honey for them all. The man thought, 'Why are these children here? I must send them away.' Tesh picked it up easily, and suddenly decided to try something else new, something she had watched Thumpus doing with Kamal.

<Children very important,> she projected. <Should stay!>

Indalesh suddenly looked hard at her. The man looked uncomfortable. Nobody said anything out loud, though Tash suppressed a giggle, hastily turning it into a cough. Indalesh handed a mug of tea to each of them.

'Ahem,' the man began again, 'the Grand Archduke is expanding his Empire. He is going to incorporate your lands into it. This will bring many blessings to you and the village. I have come to survey what there is of value here for him. He instructs you to co-operate fully with me.'

'What are these blessings?' asked Indalesh. 'In general, we are very satisfied with our lives.'

'The blessings are innumerable. For instance, you will no longer be isolated. We will bring roads so you can travel down the hill. There will be proper education for the children, advanced tools for cutting the forest, modern weapons to protect you from wild animals, police to protect you from crime. You will be able to earn money and there will be many more people to … be with,' he ended lamely. This was not going quite as smoothly as he had envisaged.

'Hmmm,' said Indalesh. 'We are relatively happy here, you know. We do have traders come to the village from time to time, and some people from villages down the hill have moved here to live. If we wanted a different lifestyle, we would have gone down, I think.'

'It is the wish of the Grand Archduke — blessed be his name — that all his citizens benefit from the progress his reign brings. You also.'

Indalesh sighed. 'We had better bring all the villagers together this evening. Then you can put your proposals to them and see what they think. I will ask them to build a fire.'

'In the meantime, I will survey the area's resources.'

He got up and left the cottage, as if with relief. 'Primitive,' he thought to himself. 'But this will become the centre for the exploitation of the inner forest.'

Tesh and Tash picked the thought up.

'That's what he's really about,' said Tash excitedly. 'Cutting down the trees. It'll be the end of us.' Tesh shuddered, remembering her dream.

'Indalesh, I had a dream that this was going to happen. A terrible dream. But there was more to it. They captured Thumpus and sent him off downhill in a cart, all chained up.'

'Don't worry, dreams can be wrong, or only partly right.' Indalesh tried to be soothing, but she was worried herself. 'You picked up his thoughts, didn't you?' She looked down at the children. 'And, Tesh, you tried to influence him so he'd let you stay. That is something very dangerous.' She wanted to say, 'You must never use it,' but she amended it to, 'You must never use it, unless you are in extreme danger.'

For the rest of the day, the stranger wandered about the area. He had lunch on a white cloth which was pulled out of a box in one of the carts by a driver — chicken and beef sandwiches, with a tomato — something the villagers never saw. They eyed him inquisitively, trying not to appear too interested. He ignored them. Meanwhile, rumours sped around the village, sourced from Tesh and Tash and spread by the other children. Indalesh decided to wait. Whatever story he gave in the evening, they could supplement it now.

The man made sketches on a big pad — sketches of the houses, of the fields, of the pens for the goats, of the forest edge. He walked into the woods a little way, as if to make sure that they were real. Then he walked along the line of trees this way and that, as if to measure how far they went. Once, nearing Suresh, busy with his bees, he asked, 'How far do the woods go?'

'Forever,' said Suresh shortly. He had not tried to read the man's thoughts, but he knew the purpose of the man's visit perfectly well. All their lives were going to change, and not for the better.

The man took his supper from the same white cloth, carefully unfolded, and drank from a bottle of wine. As darkness fell, a fire was lit at the village centre and the people gathered round it, sitting in a semicircle. The man took his time, but eventually he got up and approached. The drivers stayed by the carts.

'So few,' he thought. 'Less than two dozen. And they let their children come.' He remembered that the children had stayed during his meeting with Indalesh. Now why had he allowed that? It hadn't seemed a problem at the time. Perhaps nothing was important to these people, so they didn't bother to keep the children away.

At the meeting, he said just what he had said to Indalesh. And then, hesitantly at first, questions started to come:

'How many people will come?'

'Where will they live?'

'How will they be fed?'

'What will they do?'

'Will the trees be cut down?'

'How many?'

'For how far?'

He tried to be noncommittal, vague, to turn the conversation back to the benefits of being fully incorporated into the Grand Duke's Empire, but the damned fools seemed only to be interested in the protection of their miserable, primitive way of life.

'What will become of us?' murmured someone at the back of the firelight. It was half a rhetorical question.

With just a touch of exasperation, the man replied, 'You will experience all the benefits of the civilisation the Grand Duke has established and then you'll see how different life can be. You will be able to travel to the great cities on the new roads the Duke will build. You will be able to have modern medicine, instead of the quaint herbalism and mumbo jumbo you now use.' (He did not know what they now used for medicine, but assumed it must be that.) 'Your children will be able to go away to have the highest education, and if they are very clever, they may be able to serve the Grand Duke himself. You will be under the protection of his armies.' After he finished, there was a long silence.

Suresh, listening, felt he wanted to speak, to shout out a warning, a protest. But he kept quiet. This man, at least, would go away, and there would be a breathing space before the rest started coming. Tash, Tesh and Indalesh sat, silent like the others, beside the fire. Suddenly Suresh realised that they were projecting a message to him, like Thumpus: <Don't say anything. Wait.>

The man in front of them now seemed ill at ease.

'Are you not full of joy at the opportunities that are opening to you? Are you not eager for the changes, the opportunities, you will have?' he asked almost querulously.

'We will wait and see,' said Indalesh. 'Thank you for coming to inform us of this. Let us know if you require anything for your comfort.'

Any other visitor to the village would have instantly been invited to spend the night in one of the houses. But this man was different. They wanted him to go, so they could talk.

'So be it,' said the man. 'Upon reflection you will see how much benefit these changes will bring to you. I know for simple villagers it is a great deal to take in all at once,' he ended cuttingly.

'Good night,' they said politely, as he turned to go.

He barely nodded. He felt frustrated, even though he knew that once the Grand Duke heard his report of how enormous the forest was, a huge new industry would be established here. Those stupid villagers ought to appreciate the benefits of civilisation, compared to the primitive life they were living. Some of those children might have a spark of brain in them; perhaps one or two could even get an apprenticeship in the town. He turned and went back to his wagons. A tent was produced and erected. After ablutions he entered it and closed the flaps. The glow from an oil lamp lit up the canvas.

Now the villagers could talk alone. Clearly, as far as the man was concerned, they had no options. Suresh spoke at length. He had seen the way the man was examining the forest and asking questions about it. He knew what down the hill was like. Hundreds of people would come in. A timber mill would be built. The peaceful atmosphere of the village would be destroyed. Their way of life would be at an end. Rensh thought that there could be advantages — schools for the children, new things to buy. Anyway, they couldn't do anything about it. No-one had a piece of paper saying that they owned their land. If they objected, it might just be taken away. Tesh caused a sensation by saying that she had been able to read the man's thoughts, like Thumpus did. She told them of the man's contempt for the village and its occupants.

'I think they'll take our land away whether we like it or not and probably knock down our houses too,' she concluded.

The discussion went back and forth till late in the evening, everybody repeating themselves, as people do when they are deeply worried. Even Tash spoke up.

'We should pack up and leave,' he said.

'Where to?' said someone. Tash waved vaguely in the direction of the woods.

'Somewhere far away, where they won't find us.'

Nobody was ready to think of moving just because of the visit of one man. In the end they decided to do nothing at all for the time being — just to wait and see.

In the morning, breakfast was served on the white cloth, the tent was loaded into the cart and the visitors trundled away back down the hill. The drivers had hardly spoken a word to anyone, the man said no goodbyes, and the villagers, usually welcoming and polite, gave none either. 'Primitive and unfriendly,' thought the man. For some reason he was angry with these stubborn people who refused to see the advantages of progress. 'They've got it coming to them alright!' he thought.

For a few weeks, nothing happened. Village life returned to normal. Crops grew, weeds were cleared, goats kidded, the last winter supplies were opened. The sun shone and the rain fell. It was after a day of particularly heavy showers that the man's words began to come true. Towards evening, there was noise down the hill — shouting, banging, clattering and rumbling. A long procession of wagons and people was struggling through the muddy land up the hill towards the village. Horsemen in spattered uniforms, with whips and weapons rode around it. Carts were getting bogged in the mud. People swore. Whips were cracked and plied at horses.

Eventually, at what seemed a snail's pace, the carts managed to beat the mud and arrived at the village. They stopped on some grassy land, just outside. There were sixteen of them, driven by rough-looking men. About eight men were on horseback, clearly in control.

All the villagers watched. As the carts ground to a halt, Indalesh went over to one of them and spoke to the driver.

'Welcome,' she said. 'Who are you? Why are you here?'

'Better ask one of them, old woman,' he replied, rough, but not unfriendly, pointing at one of the riders. 'They take the decisions round here. We just do what we're told.'

She turned, as a horseman bore down on her. He was middle-aged, greying at the temples, with sad, cynical eyes. He had a sword at his belt and a whip coiled at the back of his saddle. 'You must be the headwoman we were told about. Well, we're the advance party to prepare camp for the woodcutters. You people got any food? Our supplies are rubbish. We'll give good money for it.'

'We don't use money much,' returned Indalesh. 'And it's a bad time for supplies. New crops are not ready yet,' she added, though any country person would have known why. 'But I'll see what I can do.'

The man nodded, turned and rode off. There was no request for permission to camp, no query if the location was all right. They just did what they wanted. Indalesh sighed. The cart driver, now dismounted and unhitching the horses, seemed to understand.

'That's how it is,' he said bleakly. 'I told you.'

Indalesh returned to the village and did her best to persuade people to spare some supplies for the newcomers.

'Whoever they are, we can at least be hospitable,' she said. 'Besides, it's best to show willing.'

But the people were not willing. They hadn't been warned or consulted. Food was scarce. Suresh flatly refused to give anything. Instead, he advised everyone to find hiding places for food.

'Soon they'll start taking, without a by-your-leave.'

Indalesh sighed again. She was afraid Suresh was right.

The new group was noisy and rowdy, but at least the grey-haired commander kept them in check. They put up tents, and began cutting great swathes of the forest to erect big huts, which, they said, were to be for the workers. They also said that another group was working to build a track but were starting at the other end, about three hours' walk away downhill where the nearest road ended. The villagers watched them, more and more frightened for the future of their home, aghast at the way the woods that were so much part of their lives were being treated. Indalesh had persuaded some people to supply milk from their goats. It was the only thing they had in surplus. Payment was given, but no-one was happy. Normally, that milk would be made into cheese and stored away. There was not enough for all the men, anyway.

After a day or two, Rinesh, coming back from milking the goats, was attacked and his milk pail stolen. He came home howling, scared out of his wits, and his mother, Nashe and Indalesh went to the grey man, as they had come to call the commander. The culprit was found, still with the bucket and, to the horror of the villagers, was publicly whipped the next day, squealing like a pig as the lashes cut. The children were hastily taken away to the houses. Tesh and Tash had to go to bed and be comforted, the thoughts and feelings coming from the man were so horrible. Nobody could believe that humans could do such things to each other. After that, an adult always went milking with the children — which meant that other jobs didn't get done.

'If this is their civilisation, they can keep it,' Indalesh thought bitterly. But Suresh said there was worse to come.

There was worse, much worse. As the weeks passed, the track was completed and with it came more and more workers. They lived in the barracks built by the first group, and started to devastate the forest in earnest. They made fires of brushwood which polluted the air. Stinking latrines were built. Goats began to disappear. There were fights. The children were too frightened go out in the evenings, when work finished. The villagers clustered together in their houses, afraid. The Porky man returned and began measuring out sections of woodland. Tansh, who went out to cut a tree for repairs to his hut, was arrested by the soldiers for 'cutting the Grand Archduke's wood'. However, the grey man showed some understanding and Tansh was released with a caution. It was allowed to take brushwood for fires, he was told, but all trees belonged to the Duke. Tansh returned shaken, minus his axe, to an hysterical Minesh.

Porky came to see Indalesh. A work camp wasn't a good environment for children, he said. He could arrange for them to be taken to the town, where they could get the sort of education they needed. Then they could get jobs as they grew older. The parents would not have to pay. This was the Grand Duke's generosity. Indalesh stalled him as best she could. They needed time. It was a new idea: give them a few weeks.

The people began to talk more and more of leaving, but where? Everywhere down the hill was the same. It looked as if the operation would go for kilometres and kilometres along the forest edge. Everyone was unhappy, and the precious crops were being trampled and taken. What would happen in the winter?

The two Thumping Wumpii were happy. They ran and played, hunted and grubbed for roots, sought out bees' nests and deceived their occupants. Thumpus felt like a baby Wump again. But, all too soon, the moment he knew somewhere deep inside him would happen, came.

<Baby Thumpus coming,> sent his partner. <Must return to homeland. You home, too.>

She moved away from him. It was the way wumpii were, had always been. After mating, when the female was sure she was pregnant, each animal returned to their own territory. Thumpus had never known his father, and now it looked as though he would never know his own baby. But Thumpus had been with humans, had seen new ways.

<I come too. Help with young one. Too few of us now. Need different ways,> he sent desperately. She looked at him. Was there some interest in her eyes?

<But forest to look after. Your job, my job — why we are here. Otherwise, maybe …> — she began to move away, wasting no time — <The Great Being bless.>

<The Great Being bless.>

She was gone, a shadow moving away through the trees. She was interested, thought Thumpus. Perhaps that was why she had to go so fast, so as not to weaken. His world fell apart. He sat for a long time, tongue hanging out. The dusk began, the forest came alive. But still Thumpus sat. He felt as if he would never get up again. Darkness fell.

<Thumpus!>

Who called his name? Was he awake or asleep? There was a light around him — had he opened his eyes?

The Great Being of the mountains was before him, a huge dragon, green-scaled, breathing soft flames.

<You must go back, Thumpus. You're a people-Thumpus now. The people need you — Tesh, Tash, Suresh, the others. Woods up to here will go. Your work there will end. The people are part of the forest. Bring to safety, where Mate lives.>

Thumpus laid his head on the ground, utterly overwhelmed.

<Lord. How? What?> He couldn't think.

<Go! Do! Be very careful. Blessing on you.>

The presence, or vision, faded. Thumpus found himself prostrate in the small clearing. There was no dragon, but a beautiful smell, tinged with smokiness. He got up, stretched, and padded off through the woods, the way he had come in the early spring.

It was not an easy journey back. Whenever he thought of his partner, his steps faltered. He did not race, but took careful note of the land he was passing through once more. Perhaps he would return next year. He thought of Tesh and Tash. They would be missing him. So would everyone. He thought of his house, so lovingly built. When he thought of the village, his steps lightened and he moved faster. The words of the Great Being kept coming back: 'The people need you. Woods up to here will go… bring to safety … be very careful' So he went, different thoughts alternating in his head. He hunted roots and grubs, found wood rabbits, fed well. But he was careful. He went like a shadow through the woods. Nothing noticed him.

Coming nearer the village, he knew that something was wrong. It was like a huge dark cloud ahead. The trees were wrong. They were hurting. Later, the hurt became painful. Later still, the faintest trace of smoke was in the air. Had there been a fire? It was dry weather but people should be safe at the edge of the woods.

There was fear ahead. Fear, anger and much unhappiness. A huge confused feeling. He tried to single Tesh out of the mass of energy. She was most in tune with him of all.

<Tesh,> he sent, <Thumpus. Coming back.>

Tesh was with the goats. They were disturbed and uneasy, as they had been ever since the men came. They were hard to milk now. They kicked at the bucket, and tended to send droppings into the milk if you weren't very careful and whipped it away. Other children were milking too. Minesh was with them, sharpened stick in her hand. With all the uproar in the woods there was no game to hunt anyway.

Suddenly, Tesh heard her name. She looked around, before she realised it was inside. Thumpus! It could only be Thumpus. Her heart leapt. Her concentration lapsed and the goat kicked viciously, sending the bucket spinning away. Tesh sprang back. Luckily, she had only just started milking. She retrieved the bucket.

'Minesh!' Minesh walked over. 'It's Thumpus. He's back. On his way, at least. Please take over milking. I want to try to contact him. He's still far away and it needs concentration.'

Minesh took the bucket immediately.

'He mustn't come into this — they'd spear him or something.'

Tesh concentrated. <Thumpus. Take care. Danger. Many people.>

Instantly there was a reply:

<Tesh,> softly, lovingly. Then, 'What wrong? Bad feeling.>

<Strangers have come. Cutting down woods. Soldiers.> Thumpus wouldn't know what a soldier was so she sent an image of the men on horseback carrying swords.

<Be there tonight.>

<Be careful. Don't come daytime. After dark. Be very careful.>

The news spread instantly among the people. They agreed to meet after dark to welcome Thumpus back. Suresh was doubtful that Thumpus should come back. He left his hives and tramped far into the woods, beyond the already advancing line where the trees were being felled, out to the clearing where he and Thumpus had marked the nests last year. Then he sent thoughts out to Thumpus:

<Thumpus — Suresh. Hear me? In bees' nest clearing.>

<Can hear. Coming. Soon there.>

Suresh sat on a log and waited. Normally, he would have checked the bees' nests around, but he was deeply disturbed. He felt that Thumpus' return was bringing everything to a head. Even here, the air smelt quite strongly of smoke from the burning brushwood nearer the village. He sighed and settled down to wait.

It was more than an hour before Thumpus arrived in the clearing, cautiously sensing around before approaching Suresh. He was much thinner, and his hair was very matted, giving him a wild appearance. Suresh grinned with pleasure. There had been a lot more joy in his life, a lot more happiness, since he knew Thumpus, a happiness which was now threatened as the world he had left began to catch up with him.

<What is?> asked Thumpus. <Terrible bad feeling from trees. Smoke smell in air. Bad energy direction village. Nasty dreams.> He couldn't bring himself to send about the experience with the Great Being. Not yet. It would mean too much explanation.

But Suresh would not be hurried.

<Good journey?> he queried. <Find mate?>

<Long but good. Mate gone away for cubbing.> Thumpus glanced in the direction of the white peaks which had loomed over their mating. They sat for a moment, savouring renewed friendship, Suresh tickling the shaggy beast's neck.

<Huge changes in village. Many men come. Cut trees. Other men force them. Plan to cut all forest. Violence, burning. Like my childhood again.> Thumpus turned his head and looked at Suresh with his big, yellow-brown eyes. Suresh felt calmer. What a wonderful animal this was.

<Think all must leave or children taken away. But where?> Suresh paused. The only direction was the forest, but they knew little about it, and were a very vulnerable group. Thumpus remembered the images from his mate of her land, quiet and relatively peaceful, much like his woods had been. He remembered the message the Great Being had given. And knew what he had to do.

<Thumpus guide to mate's land. But long, long journey.>

Suresh looked at him, long and slow, but said nothing. Finally, holding back tears, he responded:

<Come after dark so forest-killers not see. People all know, will wait — Tesh, Tash. Take great care.>

They went together back towards the village, each with a heavy heart. Thumpus wanted to get closer, to sense better what was happening. Finally, as Suresh turned to avoid the main centre of the tree felling, Thumpus left him, continuing directly towards the noise of cutting and crashing timber. Suresh knew he would be careful. The warning had been given.

As Thumpus approached the noise, he began to feel more and more depressed. The feeling came from the trees themselves — in some rudimentary sense they were aware of their impending doom and that of their fellows. But it also felt as if part of him was dying. Perhaps he had been a guardian of the forest as his mate had told him. He had never been conscious of it until now, when it seemed to be too late. Was his job to lead the people away from the sylvan carnage to a place where even he had never been? Could he do it? Could they do it? It would have to be soon, or they would never get through by winter.

He moved parallel to the edge of the felling area, an unnoticed shadow. It was all very systematic. Where he was standing, the trees had been marked with red dots. As he came to the end of the felling area, another line of red dots extended through the forest, and one went back towards the noise of crashing and sawing. They were cutting in blocks. He padded along the line beyond the area of cut. It seemed to go on forever. He came to another line of dots heading back towards the forest edge — the second block, not yet worked. After a while he found a third block marked. He returned to the scene of devastation. It was like an ants' nest! Some men were chopping and sawing. Others were cutting off branches. Teams of huge animals were straining to pull stripped tree trunks back towards the village. Large fires were burning underbrush and branches.

Thumpus panted heavily. He wanted to howl in misery, but dared not, for fear of drawing attention to himself. Eventually, he retreated to the bees' glade, a place less affected by the carnage. He had planned to announce his return with some glorious thumps to let everyone know he was back. Now he had never felt less like thumping in his life. His tail twitched idly. He found some grubs in a rotten log and ate them. Perhaps the people would give him potatoes when he returned tonight. He was really hungry. He sent to Tesh and Tash:

<Potatoes? Hungry tonight.> But there was no answer. Thumpus dozed, head on paws as the long evening drew in. It was light till late at this time of the year.

When dusk fell, he worked his way along the edge of the now quiet cut area. The great, sprawling camp which housed the workers was to the west side of the village, like a boil on the landscape. The village itself had been left alone — for the time being — waiting for the Grand Duke to send word on its future. The grey-haired commander had declared it strictly out of bounds after things had been stolen early on. Guards were on duty to stop people from the camp entering. Thumpus worked his way across to the east. He was very careful, but it was quiet. Camp fires lit up the sky — there was no shortage of wood.

<Coming in,> sent Thumpus and this time Tesh and Tash returned his message:

<Very happy! But take care.>

Thumpus reached the village without incident. Everyone was there, around a fire outside Prush and Lelesh's. It was a small fire in contrast to the profligacy in the nearby camp. The night was quiet. Between the houses, all was as it had been. The people gathered round him, Tesh and Tash in the forefront, hugging his neck, the other children close behind. His hut had fresh straw. For a moment, everyone was happy again.

Smiling, Lelesh brought out a big steaming pot. 'We thought you might like potatoes,' she said.

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