by Erin Hunter
Gray Wing wondered silently if he was right. Or does it just mean that the birds fed well yesterday?
He wished that he could go to Clear Sky, admit his guilt and tell him how sorry he was that he had let Bright Stream die. But he knew that he could never find the words. Instead, he padded along a few paw steps behind his brother, biting pain in his heart.
Soon, the ground became less stony; expanses of short, wiry turf appeared through a much thinner covering of snow. The mountains had changed, too; the rocky pinnacles giving way to softer, rounded shapes.
Continuing around the flank of the mountain, the cats began a steep descent into a narrow valley. Lower down were taller trees. Used to the wind-blasted pines around the waterfall, Gray Wing gazed in wonder at their wide-spreading branches.
As they climbed farther down, Gray Wing spotted movement against the trunk of one of the trees. A small russet creature was swarming upward. A squirrel! he thought. Just like in the elders’ tales!
He launched himself toward it, but Quick Water was faster, flashing past him in a blur of gray and white. She clawed her way up the tree after the squirrel as it tried to escape along a branch. She grabbed it and killed it with a quick bite to the neck.
“This is great!” she exclaimed as she dropped her prey to the ground and jumped down triumphantly after it. “We haven’t left the mountains yet, and already there’s prey!”
All the cats crowded around and took a bite from the squirrel, except for Clear Sky, who turned away. “I’m not hungry,” he muttered.
Gray Wing forced himself to eat his share, but it tasted like dust in his mouth. He glanced after Clear Sky, wishing that he knew what words would ease his brother’s grief.
At the bottom of the valley a shallow river gurgled over stones. On its far side, a grassy path led to a wide stretch of flat land.
“We’ve really done it!” Rainswept Flower exclaimed. “We’re leaving the mountains!”
“Almost.” Shaded Moss touched his daughter’s shoulder with his nose. “First, we have to find a way to cross this river.”
The cats spread out, padding up and down the bank in search of a place where they could safely cross. Though the river was shallow near the banks, there was a deeper channel in the middle, and the current looked strong enough to carry a cat off its paws.
“Over here!” Hawk Swoop called out from farther upstream. “Look,” she continued as the rest of the group crowded together to see what she had found. “We might be able to cross by these rocks.”
Gray Wing saw that here the current was broken by rocks poking out of the water, though some of them were spaced very far apart, and one or two had water lapping over them.
“I’m not sure I like the look of that,” Jackdaw’s Cry muttered; Gray Wing could see that some of the others agreed with him.
“Well, I doubt we’ll find anything better,” Shaded Moss declared. “Well spotted, Hawk Swoop. I’ll go first.”
Gray Wing watched as their leader’s sturdy figure leaped from rock to rock, making the crossing seem easy. Clear Sky followed, so quickly and carelessly that Gray Wing wondered whether his brother was even thinking about staying safe.
At first Gray Wing hung back as some of the others crossed, but when Jagged Peak launched himself onto the first rock, he followed close behind, ready to help if the kit got into trouble. But Jagged Peak leaped across strongly, squealing in excitement. He reached the far bank with hardly a splash, and padded about importantly with his tail in the air.
Gray Wing turned to watch the final cats crossing. Quick Water was taking a long time, bracing herself for each leap and flinching if the least drop of water splashed up onto her fur. Halfway across, she halted on a flat rock. “I don’t like water lapping over my paws,” she complained.
“Then don’t stand there!” Moon Shadow yowled back unsympathetically.
Quick Water hissed back angrily, jumping for the next rock without sizing up the leap. Gray Wing winced as she landed badly, her paws scrabbling against the slick, wet stone. A heartbeat later she let out a terrified screech and fell into the water, thrashing frantically.
Remembering his previous struggle, Gray Wing looked around for a branch to help her out, but there was nothing in sight.
Before any other cat could react, Falling Feather leaped from the bank and paddled over to Quick Water. Gray Wing found it hard to breathe as he watched. There was no grace in her swimming, but she was confident and fast, catching up with Quick Water as she began sinking.
Holding her head high out of the water, Falling Feather grabbed Quick Water by the scruff of the neck. Even though Quick Water was much bigger than she was, Falling Feather managed to flounder toward the opposite bank, pushing the gray-and-white she-cat in front of her.
Gray Wing and Shaded Moss crouched on the bank as they approached, reaching down to haul Quick Water to safety. Falling Feather clambered out behind her, and shook water droplets from her fur.
“That was great!” Jagged Peak exclaimed, staring at Falling Feather with admiring blue eyes. “You were so brave.”
“I only did what any cat would have done,” Falling Feather mewed.
“Most cats don’t jump into rivers,” Hawk Swoop pointed out.
Quick Water was lying on the bank, shivering and coughing up water. “I’m so sorry!” she gasped. “I was stupid, and I put Falling Feather in danger.”
“Well, everything’s okay now.” Turtle Tail comforted Quick Water, bending to dry her fur with long, strong licks.
Gray Wing and Cloud Spots joined Turtle Tail to get Quick Water’s fur dry faster. Meanwhile Falling Feather gave her own pelt a couple of swipes with her tongue. “It’s dry, it’s fine,” she mewed when Dappled Pelt offered to help her. “Come on. We don’t want to stay here all day.”
By this time, sunlight was fading. Shadows gathered around the cats as they trudged along the path beside the river, growing more tired and chilled with every paw step.
“My fur is so cold,” Quick Water grumbled. “No cat should have to get that wet.”
Jagged Peak, padding alongside Gray Wing, let out a faint snort of amusement. “I think Quick Water should change her name to No Water!”
Eventually Shaded Moss halted beside a thicket of bushes and raised his tail to signal that they should stop. “We’ll spend the night here,” he announced. “Do any of you feel like hunting?”
“It’s too dark,” Hawk Swoop objected.
“But I can scent prey,” Moon Shadow meowed, licking his jaws in anticipation. “I’ll see what I can track.”
“Me too!” Jagged Peak added enthusiastically.
“It’s great that you want to try,” Dappled Pelt remarked. “But I seriously doubt you’ll catch anything.”
As the two hunters set off, the rest of the cats started to find spots for makeshift nests among the bushes. Gray Wing took a step toward his brother, hoping they might share a nest as they had in the cave, but Clear Sky turned away and curled up underneath a low branch. Gray Wing sighed and went to find his own spot. He was flattening a clump of longer grass when Shaded Moss padded up to him.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself for Bright Stream’s death,” the black-and-white tom began. “Every cat knew the dangers when they chose to come on the journey.”
“But it was my fault,” Gray Wing insisted bleakly. “She was trying to help me instead of taking care of herself.”
Shaded Moss fixed Gray Wing with a gaze full of sympathy and understanding. “You would have done exactly the same thing in her position. If she were still alive, she wouldn’t blame you.”
Gray Wing turned his head away, unable to meet that penetrating look. “If she were still alive, she wouldn’t need to blame me,” he rasped.
Shaded Moss said no more, and Gray Wing heard him padding away. He curled up in his grassy nest and closed his eyes. After a moment he felt another cat curling up beside him. Turtle Tail’s scent washed over him.
He was slipping in
to sleep when he heard bounding paw steps and Jagged Peak’s triumphant voice. “Look what we caught!”
Gray Wing scrambled to his paws along with Turtle Tail and the rest of the cats, who crowded around Jagged Peak and Moon Shadow. On the ground in front of them lay a small brown bird and a plump rat almost the size of a kit.
“Who said we couldn’t hunt at night?” Jagged Peak meowed.
After the days of near starvation in the mountains the prey seemed like a feast, and the cats’ spirits rose. Even Clear Sky ate a few mouthfuls.
“We should remember Stoneteller at times like these,” Shaded Moss announced when the prey had been eaten. “We should thank her for directing us out of the mountains to a place where there’s enough food, even in the cold season.”
I do thank you, Stoneteller, Gray Wing thought, raising his eyes to the stars. I just wish I could tell you that we’ve made it this far.
Gray Wing awoke at dawn and scrambled to his paws. Around him the other cats were emerging from their nests in the thicket. The sun was just beginning to rise ahead of them, its golden beams pouring down to illuminate the valley. The narrow cleft where they had slept opened out into a soft green landscape that stretched flat and welcoming all the way to the distant blurry horizon.
“Wow!” Dappled Pelt whispered. “It’s the sun trail, just like Stoneteller said.”
A breeze was blowing toward them from the valley, carrying harsh, unfamiliar sounds. Gray Wing pricked his ears, trying to make sense of the distant buzzing, but it was like nothing he had ever heard before.
Turtle Tail came to stand beside him. “Why do I feel that our journey is only just starting to get difficult?” she asked.
Gray Wing nodded. “I know what you mean.”
Clear Sky appeared, climbing the bank from the river and shaking water droplets from his whiskers. Gray Wing noticed that he was moving more resolutely, with new determination in his eyes as he strode up to Shaded Moss. “This is it,” Clear Sky meowed. “We leave the mountains today. For Bright Stream’s sake, I’ll help you find our new home.”
“Good.” Shaded Moss touched the younger cat on the shoulder with his tail.
Gray Wing squared his shoulders. If Clear Sky, after all he had lost, could focus on their journey, then he could, too. He still felt full from his share of the prey the night before, and he guessed that the others were, too; they were all ready to set out after a drink from the river.
Quick Water padded along briskly; she had found time to groom herself, and looked recovered from her fall into the river.
Gray Wing quickened his pace to walk alongside her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” Quick Water gave her chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. “But I still feel really stupid for falling off that rock.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gray Wing purred. “At least we found out that Falling Feather doesn’t mind swimming. That could be useful at some point.”
As the cats continued, the mountains fell away on either side. The last vestiges of snow vanished from the landscape. Emerging from the mouth of the valley, every cat halted to stare in silent astonishment.
The river flowed away through flat stretches of green grass, dotted with huge spreading trees. The closest stretch of grass was enclosed by shiny mesh and lines of thick bushes growing close together. Inside were strange animals that looked like clouds, though they had hard black paws and black faces that bent to nibble the grass.
Warily the cats approached to peer through the bushes. The nearest animal turned to look at them and let out a weird bleating cry. Gray Wing jumped and flinched back a pace, then felt embarrassed until he realized that all his companions had done the same.
“I’m pretty sure those are sheep,” Shaded Moss meowed. “I remember the elders telling tales about them. They’re not dangerous.”
“Just huge.” Jackdaw’s Cry gulped.
Jagged Peak crept up to the line of bushes again. “I wonder what they taste like.”
Gray Wing gave him a gentle flick over the ear with his tail. “You will not start hunting sheep!”
Turning away from the creatures, the cats padded on beside the river. Gray Wing was nervous about venturing into the vast open stretch of grass, and guessed that his companions felt the same.
“This is a bit scary,” Turtle Tail confessed, coming to walk at his side.
“I know,” Gray Wing agreed. “There’s nowhere to hide!” But I could run so fast here, he thought with a twinge of longing. I could stretch my legs farther than ever before.
Gazing across the landscape he spotted a flicker of movement: something small and brown hopping through the grass. Rabbit! Without pausing to think, Gray Wing took off, racing over the ground until the land and the sky vanished into a blur. The rabbit hurtled away from him, but he kept his gaze fixed on it.
Everything seemed to slow down. Gray Wing felt his muscles bunching and stretching under his fur, his paws pushing off from the soft grass, propelling him forward. Suddenly the rabbit was in front of him; he leaped on top of it, killing it with a swift bite.
Slightly dazed, Gray Wing stood up. On the far side of the grass, his companions were watching him, openmouthed. A bleat from one of the sheep startled him, making him realize how close the strange creatures were. Stumbling a little with the rabbit hanging from his jaws, he trotted back to the riverbank.
“That was . . . fast,” Cloud Spots mewed.
“Amazing!” Jagged Peak added.
Gray Wing wasn’t sure what had taken hold of him. He set the rabbit down and stepped back. “Come on, eat,” he invited with a wave of his tail.
Dappled Pelt shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” she murmured.
“Neither am I,” Tall Shadow agreed. “I mean . . . great catch, Gray Wing, but we all ate well last night.”
“Even so, we should all eat whenever we have the chance.” Shaded Moss crouched down beside the rabbit. “Who knows when we’ll find more prey?”
The rest of the cats watched him dig in, then moved forward to take their share. Gray Wing was the last to eat, and when he was full there was still some of the rabbit left. He took another mouthful, but it was hard to choke it down.
“I can’t manage any more,” he meowed, feeling shocked at the sight of leftover prey. “If no cat wants it, we’ll have to leave it.”
Shattered Ice looked just as shocked. “What kind of place is this,” he asked, “where there is too much food?”
The sun rose higher as the cats made their way beside the bank of the river. Huge stretches of green grass lay along their route, enclosed by bushes or the weird shiny meshes. Sheep watched them curiously as they passed. Gray Wing was unnerved by their stares, and could see that his companions felt the same.
Shaded Moss took the lead as before, with Clear Sky and Tall Shadow beside him. Soon, he paused under a large tree and gathered the other cats around him.
“Now that we’re not high up,” Shaded Moss began, “it’s impossible to see much of the route ahead. But we’ll head straight for the point where the sun rises.” He gestured with his tail: “That will lead us to those pointed stones.”
Gray Wing looked at the place his leader indicated. The ground ahead still led gently downward, and just visible on the horizon were dark peaks outlined against the bright sky. That’s an awfully long way off, he thought, with a prickle of apprehension.
“We’ll never get that far!” Jagged Peak gulped. He glanced up at Gray Wing, his blue eyes full of misgivings. “Our paws will be worn away to nothing!”
“It’s just one step at a time,” Shaded Moss said encouragingly.
As they continued they still clung to the riverbank. Gray Wing wondered if he was the only one comforted by the sound of running water. Though it was much softer than the waterfall, it was almost the only familiar thing in this strange land.
Cloud Spots and Dappled Pelt sniffed at the lush clumps of herbs hanging over the water. Dappled Pel
t’s whiskers quivered with excitement as she spotted each new patch of growth.
In several places the lines of thick bushes stretched down to the water’s edge, and the cats had to push their way through, their pelts catching on thorns and sharp twigs. Small birds flew up in twittering flocks, startled by the cats’ presence.
The first time they saw the birds, Moon Shadow and Hawk Swoop sprang forward—only to halt, confused, when Shaded Moss called them back.
“We’re not hungry yet,” he told them. “There’s no need to waste prey.”
Moon Shadow and Hawk Swoop exchanged bewildered glances. “It just seems so wrong, letting prey escape,” Moon Shadow mewed.
Gray Wing remembered the rabbit they had been unable to finish. For once, he thought the black tom spoke for all of them.
Jackdaw’s Cry walked beside Gray Wing, staring around, wide-eyed. “The grass is so soft!” he said. “And there are so many creatures . . . not just the sheep, but the birds too.” The excitement faded from his voice. “Who knows what else might be hiding in the bushes and watching us?” he finished, shivering.
Gray Wing understood what the young tom meant. “Don’t forget we’re faster than most animals,” he murmured. “We can run away for safety.”
But all the cats were walking closer together now, flinching at sudden noises, and Gray Wing wondered how long they could continue under this kind of stress. Being able to run away didn’t seem as reassuring as it should have.
His ears flicked forward when he heard a rumbling sound that grew louder with every paw step. It came from the other side of a dense, bristly line of bushes. Tasting the air, he picked up a strong, acrid scent.
“What’s that yucky smell?” Jagged Peak asked, passing his tongue over his jaws as if he’d tasted buzzardfood.
“I don’t know.” Shaded Moss drew the cats together with a gesture of his tail. “Keep together until we find out what we’re facing.”
The fur on Gray Wing’s shoulders rose. Looking around at his denmates, he saw that they were bristling too, their eyes wide.