by Rachael Long
Typhon took a step forward in pursuit but tripped, stumbled and fell.
“Ouch!” a voice suddenly exclaimed followed by, “That was my leg you trod on!”
“What?” said Typhon getting to her feet and looking round. “Who’s there?”
“Me! Down here! I was hiding from that horrid spider thing. I am the sloth. Or as those pesky tree monkeys keep telling everyone, the Sloth of Gloom!” The sloth raised his arms and made an attempt at a ghostly sound, “Whooh”. Then he asked Typhon to help him back up onto the pipeline. “You can see where I usually lay on the pipeline, I’ve worn a rather smooth but comfortable groove.”
After what was probably only half an hour but seemed much longer, Typhon-the-Tiger managed by pushing, heaving, dragging and pulling to get the sloth back onto the pipeline and settled once more in his groove. Breathless and exhausted, Typhon leaned against the pipeline; “Tell me Filos, do you know where I might now find the evil spider-dragon, where she has her lair? But before you do, tell me what is this pipeline you rest upon?”
Unfortunately the sloth had fallen asleep. Typhon gave him a prod but received only a rumbling snore in reply. Tutting she looked around the small, gloomy clearing and noticed glowing red eyes had appeared around the edges. Suspecting Char-An-Chulise may have returned, bolstered with perhaps spider-dragon babies, Typhon gave a shudder and readied her rope. She watched warily as the glowing red eyes emerged into the clearing. It was the hyenas of chess. This time without their flickering flame torches or the ‘awkward one’.
“Tiger,” said the hyenas, “We have come to speak with the sloth. We have decided to forsake the noble game of chess and instead take up baccarat chemin de fer using the Evelyn Tremble system. We were hoping the sloth would tutor us.”
The sloth opened an eye and looked at the hyenas. “Backgammon,” he yawned. “Backgammon. I think that will suit you more.” The sloth closed his eye, yawned again and opened the other eye. “Tiger,” he said, “come closer. The trees made this pipeline here. They knitted their roots together to make it; it runs all through the forest and lets them speak to each other in secret. I lay here and I listen to those secrets.” The sloth yawned loudly then continued. “Follow the pipeline. Keep it on your left until you see the vultures in the sky. You will then find what you seek.” The sloth yawned once more, closed his eye and nodded off.
Typhon looked around the gloomy clearing. The hyenas had settled down to sleep in a huddle, presumably to await their first backgammon lesson from the sloth who was now snoring quite loudly. Intrigued by what the sloth had said, Typhon pressed her ear against the pipeline to see if she could hear any secrets being passed…but all she could hear was the wood infused vibration of the sloth’s snoring. Giving out a Greek-infused ‘Meh!’ she set off out of the gloomy clearing, the pipeline on her left, in search of flying vultures.
~~~
Meanwhile the circular nature of the Lost Forest continued; the sun rose and the moon set, the moon rose and the sun set…although because vast areas of the Lost Forest were hidden below a dense canopy of trees, not everyone saw the sun or the moon or the stars very much or very often and oftentimes, not everything under the sun was (ever) in tune. For instance…
“It's raining...” The second tree monkey sighed then yawned. He looked over at the first tree monkey; “Are you still asleep? It's raining you know. Big drops of watery wet rain.”
The first tree monkey turned his head toward the second tree monkey, his eyes still closed and in a sleepy voice said; “If you're getting wet, come back inside.”
“I am inside!”
“Then why are you getting wet?” the first tree monkey asked.
“I'm getting wet because it's raining inside!”
The first tree monkey opened his eyes and looked up. “Where's the roof?”
“Ah, that explains why it's raining inside.” The second tree monkey was being particularly slow on the uptake this morning.
“Wait, where are the walls...and the floor! Hold it, hold it!” The first tree monkey frantically looked around. “Why have we been tied to the top of a tree?”
The second tree monkey nodded in a very sage like way which was unusual as the tree to which they had been tied was not a sage tree at all – sage trees tend to be more of a bush really, much like the Tabernanthe Iboga bush, the root bark of which is not only medicinal but also, if taken in sufficient amounts, very hallucinogenic, which would explain a lot…possibly.
“I don’t suppose,” said the first tree monkey, “that perchance you made our tea this morning with Iboga root bark?”
“Did I”?
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.” The first tree monkey craned his neck to stare at the second tree monkey.
The second tree monkey thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t remember making any Iboga root tea but it would explain a lot, wouldn’t it. I mean, a giant spider called Cha-trouser-what, who is also a dragon?”
The first tree monkey stared up at the dawn sky and nodded. “…Not to mention, three-legged tigers, chess-playing hyenas...” He gave a little laugh. “Iboga root really is something else! Perhaps we tied ourselves to the top of this tree until the effects wore off?”
The second tree monkey laughed and then nodded his head; “Yeah,” he said, “crazy Iboga root. It makes you see three-legged, orange tigers all over the place. Look, there’s one over there. Keeps flicking water at us.”
“Oh,” said the first tree monkey, “that one over there you mean. Ah…I’m thinking she looks as if she really is real and not caused by Iboga root tea!”
“Ahh,” added the second tree monkey, a big penny dropping somewhere inside his brain. “Yes… What was it? Last of the Great Greek Tigers? It’s all coming back to me…”
“Yes,” agreed the first tree monkey, “ I’m thinking we probably have been tied to the top of a tree by a spider-dragon.”
“Good day to you, my Filos,” smiled Typhon-the-Tiger as she leapt nimbly from a nearby tree branch into the treetop where the two tree monkeys were trussed. “The water has woken you. I am here to release you. But we must be quick and silent, Char-An-Chulise is sleeping below a few trees away.” Carefully Typhon cut through the spider-silk-tethering Char-An-Chulise had tied the two tree monkeys to the top of the tree with. Moments later they had made their way down the tree and onto the forest floor.
Typhon told the tree monkeys to crouch down and pointed to her lips and made a silent shh… Then she pointed to her eye and motioned to two trees a little distance away where Char-An-Chulise had spun a silken hammock and was deep in slumber. Next, the tiger whispered for the two tree monkeys to follow her behind a nearby tree.
“We are lucky, Filos,” smiled Typhon-the-Tiger, whispering; “Char-An-Chulise is a deep and long sleeper. But we must be on our guard at all times for she is deadly even when asleep. But I have a plan.” Typhon pointed to the sky.
“Oh look,” said the second tree monkey motioning up at the sky. “It’s the Cape Vultures Aerobatic Team. They like to practice their moves over the Lost Forest, you know.”
“They drive Bob-the-Bald-Eagle mad, all their swooping, looping and, well, flying!” The first tree monkey gave a silent clap of appreciation as the nine-strong team of vultures completed a synchronised barrel loop. He turned to Typhon and said, “What is your plan?”
Typhon indicated a tree that had been bent over at a very steep angle. “I have looped one end of my rope around the top of that rubber tree,” she said. “The tree is bent over and held in place using a cunning lever system. The other end of my rope I carefully wrapped and knotted around Char-An-Chulise’s leg. You see the leg that dangles over the side of the hammock, yes? It is a good knot that will tighten as the rope is pulled by the tree.”
“A catapult!” said the first tree monkey.
Typhon nodded; a catapult or slingshot of sorts or even, another cunning variation of the Indian rope trick. “When the lever is release
d, the tree will spring back upright and, pulled by the rope, Char-An-Chulise will be flung up into the sky. At least that is what I hope. And if the elders smile down upon me, Char-An-Chulise will be gone!”
“Let me do it! Let me pull the lever and send charcoal-trousers flying into the sky!” The second tree monkey looked hopefully at Typhon-the-Tiger, adding, “I’m beginning to remember that Cherry-cola-Chews or however you say her name, was intending to eat us!”
Typhon nodded, that probably was indeed the spider-dragon’s plan. “Char-An-Chulise most likely tied you both to the top of the tree to prevent any other creature from eating you first.”
The two tree monkeys shuddered at the thought and listened, unusually for them, intently and carefully as the tiger explained how the Indian rope catapult-slingshot needed to be activated.
When the time was right, the second tree monkey released the lever and all three watched as the bent-over rubber tree sprang upright and launched Char-An-Chulise, at first surprised, then alarmed, then positively fumingly angry, out of her spun-silk hammock, through the trees, up past the forest canopy and into the sky and…
“Oh dear…” said the first tree monkey as he watched the spider-dragon, legs flailing, head straight for the slowly loop-de-looping Cape Vultures Aerobatic Team. “I don’t think they are going to be very happy at having their practice interrupted and I think your rope, Typhon, has gone for good,” he said.
Char-An-Chulise’s catapult-slingshot-assisted launch into the sky could not have been timed any more perfectly. She attained her maximum height and velocity at precisely the moment the Cape Vultures Aerobatic Team reached their own maximum velocity at the bottom of a loop-de-loop manoeuvre.
Typhon-the-Tiger and the two tree monkeys watched intently as spider-dragon and vultures collided in a tangle of legs, wings, spider silk and feathers. Being consummate professionals, the Cape Vultures Aerobatic Team recovered in one beat, righted themselves and latched onto Char-An-Chulise’s legs with their talons. Moments later the vultures were winging their way from the skies of the Lost Forest with Char-An-Chulise firmly in their grip.
“I think perhaps,” said Typhon, “the vultures have their dinner for tonight and that we have seen the last of Char-An-Chulise.”
The two tree monkeys smiled, glad to see the back of the spider-dragon. “Speaking of food,” said the second tree monkey, “I’m feeling a little peckish myself.”
“Mmm,” agreed the first tree monkey, “we could go to the Lions Tea Rooms but those lions can be so boringly grumpy…”
Typhon raised her eyebrows and rubbed her left shoulder. The first tree monkey nodded, understanding. “My apologies,” he said
“What about going to see the stork?” suggested the second tree monkey. “I mean now that Typhon has got rid of the spider-dragon the least the stork could do is put on a jolly good spread of food.”
The first tree monkey agreed and asked Typhon what she thought, not just about getting some food but about staying in the Lost Forest. For a moment Typhon-the-Tiger stroked her whiskers. Then she nodded and said, “Of all the places I have travelled, I have come to think there are no cities to love. I think though, yes, I should like to stay here in the Lost Forest. If there is room for a three-legged tiger, that is.”
“Oh I should think there’s plenty of room for the last of the Great Greek Tigers,” smiled the first tree monkey.
“The Sloth of Gloom once told me,” said the second tree monkey, “that the Lost Forest is so big, there are times he can’t see beyond the wood for the trees!”
Typhon and the first tree monkey laughed and all three began the walk back to the lighter, more open parts of the Lost Forest where the stork might be found.
“Of course,” said the first tree monkey as they walked, “you’ll have to go and see Reginald.”
“Reginald? Is that the stork’s name?” asked Typhon.
“Oh, no,” said the second tree monkey. “Reginald is the Prince of Baboons. He has a hilltop palace.”
“Is he in charge? I thought perhaps it was the stork. It all seems very confusing, Filos…” Typhon-the-Tiger looked at the two tree monkeys.
“The stork in charge!” The tree monkeys burst into chittering, chattering laughter. “No, not in charge. He made himself caretaker of the Lost Forest and well, it’s the sort of job no one else would want.” They said.
Typhon nodded and the first tree monkey continued; “Reginald’s not in charge either. No one is. But Reginald is quite eccentric and well…well, he’s just Reginald! Oh and Prince of the Baboons; his father never did get around to letting him be king.”
“I know,” said the second tree monkey, suddenly struck with an idea, “lets go and see Reginald now. He always has food. He has a larder and he’s got a butler!”
“Sounds like a fine plan to me, Filos,” said Typhon-the-Tiger. And with that they disappeared into the trees.
The leaves rustled and the trees whispered another secret along their pipeline. The sloth snored, woke up, opened an eye and mused, “Ahh, so the Lost Forest now has a tiger. Probably about time.” He glanced over at the sleeping hyenas and wondered if it really mattered if he told them the actual, real rules of backgammon, or just taught them master level advanced Chinese checkers instead? He yawned and thought he’d decide the next time he woke up…
The sloth snored, the hyenas laughed in their sleep…somewhere a freshly-painted brown zebra tried on a cowboy hat…and the tree monkeys made a list of food they imagined Reginald, Prince of Baboons had in his larder. Typhon-the-Tiger, meanwhile, Lion Tamer and Last of the Great Greek Tigers wrote out an order for a new length of rope from the Original, Authentic Indian Rope Trick Company Inc. of Indian Village, Indiana.
And somewhere under the sun, moon, stars and tree canopy the stork hummed happily to himself because just for a fleeting moment, everything within the Lost Forest was in tune – in tune with what though was another matter and another tale for another day…
The End
Of
The Quite Unusual Tale
of
The Three Legged Tiger