With considerable effort, for the battle had nearly exhausted him, Jagger tried to answer everyone at once while he struggled to drag the limp form of his adversary into the open. Hardly had he drawn it into the morning light when he heard a warning cry from Nan. Glancing up quickly, he saw that his time of danger was far from over.
A group of hunters, who had burst from the trees a short distance away, had stopped suddenly and were staring at him in disbelief.
“What a dog!” one was saying. “Look at the size of him!”
The gaunt figure of Big Joe Tanner pushed to the front. Behind him, panting, came Waddley Purdom.
“That ain’t no dog!” Joe Tanner cried. “It—it’s that devilish banshee—the white one!”
“Kill ’im!” Waddley Purdom roared. “Quick, kill ’im!”
“No!” yelled Danta Rush, springing toward them as both men raised their rifles. “Hold your fire!”
At grave risk of being shot himself, the bronze man managed to knock the barrels of both weapons up just before they were discharged. Then he jerked them from their angry owners, and with mighty swings of his powerful arms smashed them against the nearest tree.
They turned upon him cursing, fists clenched and faces contorted. Each made the mistake of trying to hit him, and each in turn was knocked flat, and treated to a burst of language that astounded and delighted Jagger.
“That,” the bronze man finished, “is just first payment for having jailed me on a false charge. Next time either of you crosses my path, I won’t pull my punch. I’ll break your head! You stupid fools, you nearly cost the lives of two children!”
“But—but how were we to know—”
“Shut up! There are men in the hospital because you refused to listen to me. And there’s Tess Gomez. But I won’t speak of her—she was your friend, not mine. Luis was hurt so bad he thinks he’s going to die, so he confessed to the whole rotten business.”
He spun away from them and hurried over to hug Nan and Peter, who were now clinging happily to Jagger. Palamedes stood tossing his mane, watching. An awed incredulous and admiring circle was rapidly gathering. They stared at the great body of the Black One, then at Jagger, and shook their heads.
“Mr. Rush,” one of the hunters said, “I never seen critters like these two. I know the white one’s a dog of some kind, about the biggest ever, I reckon. But I can’t figger the black varmint.”
“Nor can I,” said the bronze man, shaking his head like the others. “One of the great cats—but a very rare black one, possibly a mutant. The size of him! Must have escaped from a circus, and someone shot him. What a shame he wasn’t killed! I’d rather be dead myself than kept in a cage.” He stooped, pointing. “Look what the bullet did to his head.…”
Jagger was hardly aware of the growing circle around them. He was suddenly alert, his floppy ear standing up straight as he listened. Then he realized that the curiously different yet familiar voice he heard was in his head.
Jagger? Jagger? I am sure you are near. Can you answer?
Jagger quivered with excitement. But for the moment he was so overcome that it was utterly beyond him to reply. Nan said, “What’s the matter, Jagger? Is something wrong?”
I—I’ve just heard the voice of my Elder at home.
“Oh dear!” Her chubby arms tightened about him. “Do you s’pose he’s come to take you back?”
The possibility of such a thing had never occurred to Jagger, but now he suddenly realized this must be the case. There was nothing Elder Norfo couldn’t do if he put his mind to it. In fact, Jagger had more than once suspected him of slipping away and visiting places unknown with the help of one of his secret contraptions. But these excursions were never mentioned.
Jagger! Elder Norfo called again. Please answer if you can hear me!
I—I hear you! Jagger managed to reply at last. Where are you?
At the top of the hill where you landed after the disturbance. It is the only place you could have landed after what happened.
You—you’ve come to take me home?
Of course I’ve come to take you home! What else would bring me to this dreadful place?
Jagger felt Nan’s arms tighten again. She seemed on the verge of tears. How could he leave when she and Peter needed him?
In a quick exchange he told the Elder all that had happened since his arrival. So you see, he finished, I have found friends who need me. I cannot leave them now.
Jagger, this is not your world, the Elder told him. I have visited here before, to my sorrow, and I have returned only because Lillet and Ereen cry for you, and Anda does not eat. So consider where you are needed most. I will wait for you till the sun reaches midday.
Jagger was brought back to the scene around him by a sudden eager whinny from Palamedes. The stallion was staring at a distant figure who had just come limping from the woods. The man gave a sharp whistle, and Palamedes began racing across the meadow.
Danta Rush stood up and gasped, and others turned their heads and stared. Nan and Peter jumped to their feet. Jagger’s mind reached forth briefly, questing. His heart went out to the thin anxious man who had survived a long and terrible ordeal in a jungle because he wanted to come home to his children.
Abruptly Peter gave a little cry and started racing after Palamedes. Nan screamed, “Pop! Pop! I knew you’d come back!” She began to follow Peter as fast as her uncertain legs would carry her.
Jagger felt a wave of happiness for all of them. Quietly he stood up while no one was watching him, and slipped back into the woods. Now he too began to hurry, but in the opposite direction.
There has been a change, he called eagerly to the Elder. I am no longer needed here, so I am going home with you.
About the Author
Alexander Key (1904–1979) started out as an illustrator before he began writing science fiction novels for young readers. He has published many titles, including Sprockets: A Little Robot, Mystery of the Sassafras Chair, and The Forgotten Door, winner of the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award. Key’s novel Escape to Witch Mountain was adapted for film in 1975, 1995, and 2009.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1976 by Alexander Key
Cover design by Jesse Hayes
ISBN: 978-1-4976-5264-4
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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