The War for the Lot

by Sterling Lanier

  Just when Alec was beginning to feel a bit drowsy, a sound broke the stillness of the night. He sat up and so did the mouse on his shoulder and the cat at his feet, all listening hard.

  There it was again, louder now. Could it be Stamper returning? All three dismissed the thought as fast as it occurred. This noise was coming from the north, not the west, and it was both heavy and regular, the sound of some great body ponderously moving through the brush and leaves with a muffled but weighty tread, careless of noise and the listening ears of the wild. Their three brains were almost paralyzed with fear. Mowheen was coming!

  With each passing second, the sound grew louder and clearer as the monster approached, heralding his progress with a series of explosive snorts as he drew closer to the hollow.

  The boy shrank back against the weathered stump, hardly daring to breathe. The great brute was now almost upon them and the one weapon which they possessed, the gas cloud of the skunk, was gone! Worthless drew his legs and tail in upon himself until he looked like a round ball of fur, his pupils wide with fright and his ears flattened against his skull. Every orange hair on his body stood out in alarm. Whisperfoot crouched immobile on Alec's shoulder.

  Across the hollow, on the opposite rim and to the right, there was a screen of low bushes. Suddenly, out of these there emerged an awesome shape, towering up against the stars. The great bear had risen on his hind legs to see if any enemy had come to his drinking place. He stood sniffing in great gulps of air as his weak, rheumy eyes peered about in suspicion.

  The utterly still and windless night did not betray the three either by scent or sound. The bear dropped to all fours and broke through the screen of bushes, lumbering down into the hollow on the way to the dew pond. They could see him clearly under the white moonlight, a great black creature with a lighter-colored muzzle, heavy in the rear quarters. He was now rumbling to himself as he approached the water, making a sound like far-off thunder.

  Alec had had a lot of time to think about the meeting and this was part of what saved him, finally unlocking his frozen body from the fear that held it squeezed into silence. His brain ordered his body to move, and slowly the boy responded in spite of instincts that shrieked, "Stay quiet."

  Mowheen had almost reached the water and was only half visible under the alder's leaves when the faint sound of movement upslope caught his sensitive ears. Moving at an astonishing speed for an animal his size, he spun around and faced the sound he had caught, his lips wrinkled back in a snarl and the great yellow teeth showing clearly.

  Alec just barely managed to force himself to stand up. His small erect body was plain to see, even for the bear's bad eyes, and for a split-second the two faced each other under the moon, frozen in stillness.

  The boy reached out for the bear with his mind and felt amazingly a wave of stark terror, a terrible panic bordering on madness. The great beast felt trapped and helpless, caught at close range in clear view by a human. And worse, he had been hurt recently. He was readying himself now to charge, to fight his way out or die in the attempt. Already his huge hind legs were gathering under him.

  Yet, at the same instant, Alec's fear was gone! He suddenly felt immensely tall and strong, filled with power and force. It was as if somehow the bear had become no bigger than Worthless, crouching in a ball at the boy's feet, and he, Alec March, had grown into a giant, his head higher than the trees around the woodland hollow.

  "Mowheen!" he called with his mind. "Mowheen, I am Watcher, and I have been sent to find you by Manibozo." Here he sent a mind picture of the great Spirit of the Wood.

  "Mowheen," he went on, "you are to help me. I am not an enemy. Manibozo chose me to be the leader of the animals. I have been sent and you are called. I am not an enemy."

  Over and over the boy repeated this simple message, standing still, his arms now easy at his sides, as confident as if he were reciting in class. To a human observer, the scene would have been incredible, for it looked as though Alec were defying the great brute, daring it to move against his orders. But he was soothing the grim and fearful mind opposed to his, calming the bear by mind-touch, until he could actually see the huge body begin to relax, the muscles lose their tension, the great gape of the jaws start to shut. Suspicious still, but no longer crazed with panic, the old bear settled back on his haunches, still glaring up at the small figure before him.

  Finally, Alec sensed that Mowheen would never be more at ease and slowly, ever so slowly, he sat down himself. He even remembered to raise one hand and gently pat the tiny form on his shoulder, which had never left him. As he sat, the bear relaxed a little more, though still alert for danger, the big, pointed head weaving back and forth as he searched for more news by ear, nose, and eye.

  "Speak to me, Mowheen," said Alec. "There's nothing to be afraid of. All the forest needs your help." He waited then for an answering thought.

  When it came it was massive, slow and almost rusty, as if the bear had not used his mind to speak for a long, long time.

  "My help? Who needs my help? What help? Why should a bear help a human? Who are you and why am I to help anyone? Humans have those shiny, noisy things that kill. One hit me yesterday in the foot. Who needs an old bear, except to kill him or drive him away? Go away, human, and I will go away and never come here again. Humans don't speak to bears. They hunt them with things that kill. This is all wrong, this should not be."

  Alec was quick to take advantage of the old beast's bafflement. He saw that the bear was now no longer in a panic but simply worried, in pain, and ill at ease. So he spoke soothingly.

  "No one will hurt you—no human around my place, I mean." He outlined the area of The Lot as well as he could with thought pictures. "In this place you would be safe at any time. You can always come there, summer or winter, to hide or rest. But in return, I need your help. And Manibozo sent me to you, remember that."

  Again he sent the best picture he could of the Wood Spirit to the bear's mind. This time there was a long silence and the silvered muzzle of the bear swayed back and forth as his old, tired brain thought on and tried to make sense out of all the new facts he had learned. Finally he seemed to reach a decision.

  "The Master of the Forest has sent you. I can see this, but I don't understand. I am only an old bear. Since my mother died, many seasons gone, I have never seen another of my kind. Maybe I am the last bear in the world. I am old. The cold hurts me more every fall and the wet of the rains goes into my bones and makes them ache. Now my foot is bleeding. But you have been sent by the Master, the great one whom we bears thought went away long ago. I don't understand, but I will think. What an old bear, the last bear, can do, I don't know. Why should I do anything?" He fell silent, and then slowly lay down, looking like some great deformed dog, his heavy head lying on his front paws and pointing at Alec as he waited.

  Alec relaxed just a little more himself. He put one hand down to pat the cat which crouched at his feet; and at the touch, Worthless relaxed a little and his rough tongue touched the boy's fingers in a fleeting caress. Then Alec began.

  Mowheen listened in utter silence as Alec told of the forest truce among the animals and the appeal to the great Wood Spirit. He told of his own coming to The Lot and of his meeting with the animals and his learning to speak with them. He spoke of his vision at the Council Glade, and of the rats and their dreadful kings, their menace and what it meant. He told of the plans that were being made and how the bear was needed. No one even noticed, beyond the barest acknowledgment of the fact, that at some point the skunk had returned and sat down silently next to the cat in front of Alec.

  The story went on to its end as the boy explained how all of the animals had been told to look for the bear so that he, Alec, could talk to him and ask him for help. When the boy was finished, he simply came to the end and stopped, waiting to hear what Mowheen would say.

  Again the old beast ruminated, his head swaying.

  "So all your forest is at truce. There has been no such thing in my lifet
ime. All of this is new and I am old, very old. Running and hiding is all I have ever done. And now a fight with those crawling, squeaking, dirty vermin. I haven't seen one for years, but I used to kill them now and again. Not to eat, though. And so the Master sent you, Watcher, to ask for the old, wounded bear's help! The seasons turn and come again and nothing is ever new, but now this is new." He muttered on to himself and then fell silent, much as an old man will sometimes talk something over with himself, even if another person is there.

  Alec waited. He was no longer even slightly afraid, just desperately sorry for the big bear. He knew now that the terrible monster he had imagined was actually a frightened, lonely, crotchety old being, who had spent so much time by himself that he had almost forgotten how to communicate.

  Now that the bear was exposed to view in the strong moonlight, Alec could see that Mowheen's snout was snow-white with age; his teeth were worn and rounded with use and one of the great eye-teeth was broken. The wounded foot, the left front one, showed a scab of dried blood. Alec was wondering just how badly Mowheen was hurt, and how old he really was when the bear spoke again.

  "I must think about it. Send a message to tell me when the rats come and when I am wanted. But I don't say I'll help. Tell whoever you send to wait if I'm gone." He stopped talking a minute and then slowly went on, as if a new thought had occurred to him.

  "What difference will it make? Why should I help, the last of the three—wolf, panther, and bear? I may be dying. I am so old. Why should I care?"

  Mowheen turned and limped off down to the dew pond. He drank slowly and then walked off into the west without speaking again. Alec stood up and shuddered. He no longer felt strong. Now he was terribly tired, as if he had been running hard for an hour.

  Stamper led the way home, as before, and Alec fell in behind him with the cat bringing up the rear. On the boy's shoulder, the deermouse rode proudly. All of the animals felt proud. None of them had flinched. In the face of terror they had stood firm.

  But Alec now felt exhausted and disappointed as well. Mowheen was far older than the boy had realized. His old brain seemed incapable of retaining thoughts for long and he appeared to feel that the struggle to save The Lot was none of his business. Would he really help when the time came?

  Weary and disillusioned, Alec plodded back along the track through the oak forest and over the hills, until at last the final rise was cleared and the peaceful expanse of The Lot lay spread out below.

  Chapter Ten

  IT WAS AN extremely hot afternoon, one of those summer days which seem to be always just on the verge of a storm. The blazing blue sky was full of huge white thunderheads, but little rain fell, although the noise of thunder could be heard continually muttering in the distance. A few scattered showers earlier had sprayed a little water on the grass and trees; but the roof of the house was dry again five minutes after each cloudburst had passed. A scorching wind blew in fitful gusts, each blast making the skin tingle and prickle as if electricity were somehow in the wind.

  Alec sat under what had come to be his favorite apple tree, above and behind the house. It was under these branches that he had learned Worthless could talk, and the orange cat was now lying beside him.

  Six days had gone by since the midnight meeting with the old bear. The intervening days had been useful to Alec, although the strain of waiting had become no easier. The courage he had shown in facing the bear alone in the night had made him more confident but also more worried. He had seen Scratch and Stuffer the following day, down in the woods, and the obvious respect shown by the big raccoon and the old woodchuck made him secretly thrill with pride. But he knew that all was not going as well as they thought. No more news of Mowheen had come in and he seemed to have vanished again. Who could say whether the ancient animal planned to help or was even capable of doing so? And ominous information had trickled in from the dump. The brown rats were very actively gathering food. And more rats were beginning to come to the dump from other parts of town as well! It didn't take Alec long to realize what this meant.

  "This is it," he said to Whisperfoot when he heard the news. "They're calling in all the little groups that normally don't live in the dump itself. Then, when they do march, they'll have that many more along with them. They don't plan to leave even one rat behind. They want every single one to join their army."

  Alec had asked that the mice try even harder to get more news, and they were doing their best. Beyond this, there were only a few things the boy could do, for other developments had taken place.

  There had been several attempts by the woods folk to capture a live rat scout who might reveal information about the plans of the dump's rulers. But every rat captured fought to the death. There were no live prisoners. Alec wondered whether the awful Rat Kings might not have the power to compel their subjects not to be taken prisoner. It seemed possible, but the boy simply gave orders that the scouts were to be driven back and not attacked in the future. He had developed such a loathing and fear of the awful rat rulers that he was afraid continual attacks might alert them to the fact that The Lot itself was organized. Only if this fact came as a last-minute surprise could he hope to defeat the swarming rat hordes of the dump.

  "Aren't you supposed to go down into the lower wood for a meeting today?" asked the cat, stretching and arching his broad back.

  "I'm about to go right now," answered Alec. "Want to come along? You ought to meet the others, you know."

  "I don't see why," was the answer. "I met the skunk—decent enough sort, I suppose and the woodrat and your pet mouse. They're doing their best, I guess; but I see no need to mix further. Anyway," he added, with a flash of honesty, "I don't like it down there in the trees. The whole place is sort of watching me all the time. At least I get that feeling. I'll stay up here until you need me to go on a dangerous trip or protect you or something."

  Alec tickled Worthless until the cat rolled over with his feet in the air, purring loudly.

  Alec spoke to him. "It seems to me you were going to talk to old Mowheen the other night, and argue him into being a friend. What happened?"

  "I hadn't a chance!" said the cat, sitting up at once and glaring indignantly at Alec. "You took over too quickly. I was preparing a whole lot of clever things to say, in case you didn't get along too well; but then, 'Why bother,' I said to myself, 'when it's all going so smoothly?' I was ready to step in at any time. No point in shaking the tree when the birds are on the ground, as my mother used to say."

  Alec laughed. "I was only teasing," he said, seizing Worthless and hugging him. "You were very brave. Even Whisperfoot said so, and she doesn't like cats too much. You know you were brave, don't you, old cat?"

  "Of course I was," said Worthless, wiggling loose and starting to wash himself. "All cats are brave. Some, of course," he added, "are braver than others. I must be one of those."

  "Stay here and guard the place. I'll be back by suppertime or before." Alec strode off across the orchard and fields, down into the woods, heading for what had become the accustomed meeting place, the tree where Soft Wing had his roost. As he went, he reviewed in his mind what he wanted to say. It was so important that it be said just right!

  He arrived at the fir tree still brooding and the mass greeting of his friends gave him a start.

  "Hello, Slider, Scratch, Wandertail," he said in reply. "Hi, Stuffer. Hi, Soft Wing. Where's Stamper?"

  "Just coming upstream," the skunk's thought came to him. "I was scouting down at the south boundary. There were supposed to be some rats seen there, but it turned out to be nothing." Stamper himself emerged from a bush and trotted over to join the others.

  "I left Whisperfoot up at the house, in case the mice reported anything new from town," said Alec. "Now look. I got you here because I think I finally have a plan to deal with the rats. It's the only thing I can think of, and it's taken a lot of thought, believe me! When I'm through, you have to tell me if you feel it will work, and tell me what's wrong with it. All right?"


  He looked around for questions, but none of the animals said anything; so he began.

  "Here's the way I've thought it out. The rats are coming straight for us, right from the dump to The Lot with no ranging out to the sides. That should put the pond pretty well in the middle of their path. My whole plan is based on that. And, of course, on the fact that they'll come at night. Now! Suppose the rats get pretty close to the woods before they meet any of us. Then suppose we start attacking them on both sides, but not in front. What would they do?"

  "Probably send their best fighters out to the sides and keep the others moving on through," said Scratch. "That's what I'd do."

  "What else could they do?" said Slider. "Unless they were sure they were licked, which they wouldn't be. They'd have to do what Scratch said go and fight on both sides where the attack came."

  "Good," said Alec. "That's what I thought. My grandfather knows a lot about fighting and he told me how some of it works. The whole trick with a lot of people, in a war, is to make them go wherever you want, not where they want to go themselves. Now, suppose it happened like that, with some of us on the sides, and with the dump rats going on and fighting us. It would be dark, and even with all the scouting they've done, they probably don't know the land and the woods too well, right?" He was becoming really excited now and the others caught the feeling and their ears cocked as they listened to his plan. Finally, Alec was finished.

  There was a long silence. The bird and the six mammals turned Alec's tactics in their minds. It was Scratch who spoke first.

  "This is why we had to have a human," he said in grave tones. "None of us could have thought of this. It's going to be a lot of trouble and hard fighting, but it could just work, I think."

  At this point there was an interruption. "Look what's here," said Slider, peering at the ground. "What are you doing, little one?"