‘I’m big for my age,’ I said, defensively.
Then we heard a commanding call from Melchior. The herd leader had walked up onto a small hillock and was gazing sadly down at the buffalope all around him. I saw with a twinge of fear that his eyes too were red and filled with pus, and I heard Papa take a sharp intake of breath as he noticed this.
‘Creatures of the herd,’ said Melchior, and his once steady voice sounded weak and faltering. ‘This will be the last time I speak to you. The sickness is upon me. I feel it coursing through my veins. Lazarus will act as leader now, until you appoint another to take my place. You must leave me now and move on.’
At this there was a great outcry from the herd. Everybody loved Melchior and nobody wanted to turn their backs on him. But he was adamant.
‘If this herd is to survive, you must go on your way and leave me. I want nobody to approach me as you go. Please, this is my last request of you. I go to join our fallen brothers and sisters in the Great Wallow. Farewell and good luck to you all.’
Reluctantly, the herd began to move away, our heads low as a mark of respect to the buffalope who had led us so well for so long. As I went by, I sneaked a look at Melchior. He was standing alone on the hill, his nose nearly touching the ground and I could see that his legs could hardly hold him upright, but he was grimly hanging on until we were all out of sight.
I learned in that moment what true courage really was, and I hoped that the stories of Colin and the Great Wallow were true. I did not want to think of Melchior ending his days as nothing more than a carcass rotting under the glare of the sun.
We continued to move across the plains and, after a few days, more than half of our number had died. I began to plead with my parents, telling them that, if we didn’t break away now, it would be too late for us. Finally, even Papa had to concede that I was talking sense.
‘I hate to admit it, but the lad is right, Bess,’ he said with a sigh. ‘We’re doomed if we stay. We’ll slip away tonight. But we must do it quietly. If others see us going, some are sure to follow.’
Bess simply nodded. She had always obeyed her husband in such matters and even her fear of leaving the protection of the herd couldn’t overrule that.
When the sun went down that night, we made sure that we were browsing on the very edge of the herd. From the midst of it came the by now familiar anguished bellows as more creatures succumbed to the sickness. Finally, when it seemed that most of the buffalope around us were asleep, Papa gave an almost imperceptible nod and we began to move quietly away from the others.
Papa had decided to head in the direction of Torin and The Grove – though we knew it was way too early, he had surmised that, by the autumn, those of the herd that had survived would make their way to this familiar place and we would meet up with them again. We moved as silently as we could but we hadn’t gone very far when I heard the sound of hooves behind us and when I looked back, I saw my regular playmate Luthor, trotting after us. I turned back to look at him.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked excitedly.
I looked into his nice but dim face and tried to think of something I could say to him. Obviously, I couldn’t tell him the truth.
‘We’re just going . . . for a walk,’ I said.
‘Great, I’ll come with you. I’ll just go and tell Mama and Papa . . .’
‘Er . . . no!’ I said, perhaps a little too sharply. I knew exactly what would happen if I let him do that. The commotion he would make would wake up other members of the herd and then they’d want to come and, the next thing you knew, the whole lot of them would be trooping after us, completely defeating the object of the exercise.
‘It’s er . . . it’s a bit of a secret walk,’ I said.
‘A secret walk?’
He looked somewhat confused by this and I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant myself. My mind was going ten to the dozen trying to think up a plausible explanation.
‘Er . . . yes, we’re going to a secret place to . . . er . . . find a cure for the sickness. You see, I had a dream . . . and in the dream, Colin told me . . .’
Luthor gasped.
‘You have talked to Colin?’ he whispered. ‘The great buffalope god, Colin?’
‘Er . . . yes. Well, he spoke to me, actually. I just listened. In the dream, he told me that if I went to a certain place and ate some . . . umm . . . special blue fruit . . . it would cure the pestilence that afflicts the herd.’
‘Oh boy! Colin said that?’ Luthor was getting very excited now, wheeling this way and that on his spindly legs. ‘I can’t wait to tell the others!’ he cried.
‘Yes . . . I mean, no! No, that’s just the point. You mustn’t. Colin said I was to mention it to nobody, otherwise the cure wouldn’t work.’
Luthor looked crestfallen.
‘But you’ve told me now,’ he said. ‘Does that mean that I’ve ruined it?’
‘Er . . . I don’t think so. No, what he actually said was, I was to tell nobody except my very best friend. Yes, that’s what he said. And that’s you, Luthor, so it won’t harm the plan. But you see, the blue fruit is some distance away and we don’t really know how long we’ll be gone. So you must go quietly back to the herd and mention it to nobody. Do you understand? And . . . if anyone asks you if you’ve seen us . . .’
‘I’ll say that I certainly didn’t see you creeping away in the night.’ He nodded his head. ‘In that direction.’
This didn’t sound too promising, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.
‘Well, Luthor, you’d better get back to the others,’ I said, ‘before you’re missed.’
‘I suppose so. What a shame I can’t come with you. It sounds like a real adventure.’
‘Yes . . . still, see you later, eh?’
He nodded. He looked so trusting that I felt horribly ashamed of myself and almost relented and told him that he could come with us but, just then, Papa appeared at my side.
‘We must be going, son,’ he said. ‘Time’s moving on.’
I nodded. I gave Luthor a stern look.
‘Remember now,’ I told him. ‘Not a word.’
I turned and walked away. After I’d gone a short distance I stole a glance over my shoulder and Luthor was still standing there, watching me leave with that same trusting expression on his face.
I often wonder what happened to him after that. Perhaps the pestilence claimed him, as it took so many others of the herd. Perhaps he grew up, found a mate and sired many young calves. I will never know, for I never saw him again. I sometimes dream of him though, standing alone on the plain beneath the vastness of the night sky, gazing after me with those big, trusting eyes.
I would like to see him once more before I die so I could tell him that I’m sorry for tricking him the way I did. I hope it wasn’t too long before he realised that I wasn’t coming back.
Chapter 3
Out From The Herd
When the sun rose, the three of us were quite alone on a vast stretch of plain. We looked in all directions but could not see any sign of the herd. It felt strange to be out on our own: scary, yet, at the same time, exhilarating. We began to amble in the direction of Torin, taking our own sweet time and stopping to graze whenever we felt hungry, which, with buffalope, is most of the time.
Papa was very nervous about this. I can’t say I blame him. He and Mama had spent their entire lives with the herd, so for them to leave its security must have been an awful wrench. In those first few days, Papa was very watchful, always lifting his head to look in all directions and he advised me to be the same. I wasn’t about to argue with him.
Once, I spotted a distant pack of lupers racing across the plain.
‘Look at them,’ I muttered. ‘Running along on their back legs and howling at the sky. Just who do they think they are?’
‘They’re the most fearsome predators on the plains,’ Papa told me. ‘Let’s not forget that, and let’s just be thankful they’re not hea
ding our way.’
‘Huh. They don’t scare me,’ I said.
But the truth is, they terrified me. I had once seen a pack of them attack an old bull that had fallen behind the rest of the herd and it was one of the most awful things I’d ever witnessed. Mind you, I was young then. I didn’t realise that there were worse things than that in the world.
At night, we would find what little shelter there was on the plains and we would huddle together for warmth. Mama and Papa would press in protectively on either side of me, and Papa somehow managed to keep waking every so often to gaze slowly around and snuffle the air, searching for the tell-tale scents that would warn him of any predator that might be lurking in the shadows. I felt safe and secure in the midst of my parent’s shaggy coats and was able to sleep soundly, never waking until the sun rose.
As the days passed and no harm befell us, we all began to relax a little. Of course, we missed our brothers and sisters of the herd, but we only had to think about how many others must be dead by now to realise that we had made the most sensible decision.
‘You know, we might have started something here,’ I told my parents, as we ambled along one day.
‘Whatever do you mean?’ asked Mama.
‘We’ve changed the way things have been for ages. I mean, the herd has been together for as long as anyone can remember. Nobody ever stepped away from it. But now we’re saying, “Hey, buffalope, it’s all right to be on your own.” We’re trendsetters, that’s what we are!’
‘The boy’s brains are addled by the sun,’ said Papa, despairingly.
‘No, but think about it, Papa! We’re out on our own and we’re doing fine, aren’t we? Nothing terrible has happened to us. It’s all right to break away from the herd.’
But I had spoken too soon. It was on the morning of the fifth day, that something happened that would change my life forever. Even now to speak of it fills me with an overpowering sense of dread. And, believe me, if you thought the last bit was distressing, you’ve heard nothing yet.
It happened unexpectedly. I was grazing contentedly on a patch of dry grass, when Papa lifted his head and stared back in the direction we had come from. I turned to look and saw that there was a great cloud of dust on the horizon. We watched for a moment in silence and then discerned that some animals were approaching us at speed. It was their feet that were kicking up the dust.
‘Lupers?’ I asked anxiously, my former bravado quite vanished.
Papa shook his head and snorted.
‘Equines, I think.’
‘They are no danger to us,’ I said.
‘Wild equines are no danger,’ said Mama. ‘But sometimes they belong to the Uprights.’
The Uprights. I had heard other buffalope speak of them with dread in their voices. The Uprights were tall, thin creatures with little or no hair on their faces. Many of them were slavers, who often took creatures such as ourselves as prisoners and forced them to work. I had never seen one in the flesh, but now it looked as though many of them were heading straight towards us because, as the equines drew nearer, we could see that other, smaller creatures were perched on their backs.
‘What shall we do?’ I whispered.
‘Let’s not get excited,’ said Papa. He was trying to sound calm, but I could sense the apprehension in him. ‘If we’re lucky, they may not have seen us. Come on.’
And he led us quickly away, moving off at a sharp angle to the riders’ approach. But we had only gone a little way, when we realised that the Uprights were changing their course to swing after us. It was only too clear that they had already seen us and were coming in pursuit.
‘It’s no use,’ said Papa. ‘We must run!’
Without further hesitation, we put our heads down and galloped away, just as fast as our hooves would carry us. Every so often, I risked a glance back over my shoulder and saw that the slavers were rapidly gaining on us. I could not run as quickly as my parents and I was uncomfortably aware that they were deliberately slowing their pace so as not to leave me behind.
‘You must run faster!’ bellowed Papa.
‘I can’t!’ I shouted back at him.
I could hear the thunder of hooves behind me now and could smell the unfamiliar stench of the equines, a smell that was not like any wild creature that I had ever encountered, but one that spoke of misery and submission.
There were sounds too, the upright creatures calling to each other in a high keening tongue I could not understand. But the sound of it filled me with a nameless dread and I put everything I could into running, trying desperately to place some distance between my pursuers and me.
But they continued to gain on me, until I could sense them right on my heels, the noise of the galloping hooves drowning out all other sounds. My parents were by now frantic with worry, yelling at me to keep up with them, but my heart was beating so fast, I could hardly get my breath and I realised that I was never going to outrun these creatures, not if I ran to the very edge of the known world.
Just as I was thinking that, something long and snakelike came whizzing beneath me and wrapped itself around my front legs, which were suddenly jerked together with incredible force. I pitched forward, heelsover-head and hit the earth with a force that drove all the breath out of me. I rolled onto my back and tried to struggle upright, but then another of the snake things dropped around my neck and tightened so abruptly that it threatened to throttle the very life from me. I could feel an incredible force pulling at me, holding me in place and the next thing I knew, a couple of the Upright things had jumped down from their mounts and were pushing me to the ground, while they wrapped the snakes tighter around my legs so I could not move.
As I lay on my side, helpless, I saw Mama, in the same position as me, tied with the snakes and bawling my name out loud, as she struggled to get to me. I shouted back to her and one of the Uprights lashed a foot into my ribs, making me squeal with pain.
Then I heard a great bellow of anger and when I lifted my head, I saw Papa, charging back towards us, his mighty horns lowered to sweep any opposition out of his path. The Uprights that were holding me started shouting excitedly, but Papa kept on coming and I thought to myself: he will chase them off, there’s not a creature on the plains powerful enough to stand up to him!
But just as I was thinking that, something inexplicable happened. A brightly plumed wooden stick seemed to spring out of Papa’s shoulder and he roared in what sounded like pain. He kept on advancing though and then a second stick appeared from out of the side of his head and this time, he slowed in his tracks. I could see bright ribbons of blood oozing from the places where the sticks had appeared and then I saw a third stick, but this time, I realised that the thing was actually whizzing through the air and I saw it smack into Papa’s chest with an impact that stopped him in his tracks.
I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that a couple of the Uprights were holding long curved wooden implements and they were using these to fling the plumed sticks through the air with great force. I saw that the sticks were topped with sharp stone barbs that glittered dangerously in the sunlight. I bellowed at them to stop what they were doing and their cruel faces looked down at me for an instant and then they laughed and carried on firing.
I looked back to Papa and two more sticks were jutting out from his throat and, as I watched, horrified, he sank slowly to his knees, gasping for breath. The blood was pumping down his shaggy hide and spraying from his nostrils and I saw a strange vacant stare come into his eyes. He made a last suffering moan and then he pitched over sideways and lay still.
‘Papa!’ I called, but he didn’t respond.
I looked across to Mama, and she too was staring at his fallen body. She was making a pitiful sound, the sound a buffalope makes when it is sorrowful. My eyes filled with tears, because it seemed to me then that this was all my fault, that if we had stayed with the herd, perhaps everything would have been all right. My hollow words of the previous day rang in my ears.
We
were trendsetters. We had really started something.
A couple of Uprights walked over to my father ’s body and they pulled bright metal talons from their belts. Then they leaned over him and . . .
I cannot speak of what happened next, not even after all this time. It was something that no young buffalope should ever have to witness and, to be sure, after the two Uprights started their grim work, I looked away and wept and I heard Mama weeping too. I cannot say how long I lay there but after a while, the snakes around my feet were loosened and I was pulled upright, the snake around my neck choking me, and I was pulled along behind an equine. I followed blindly because I no longer cared what happened to me. Papa was gone and I knew that I would never see his noble face again.
I managed to pull my head to the side for a moment, enough to glance back. What was left of him was lying on the plain and the sky was already dark with circling vultures. But then the Upright who held the other end of the snake gave it a vicious wrench and I was obliged to follow on.
‘Mama!’ I croaked. ‘Mama! Are you alive?’
‘Yes, little one,’ she called back.
‘What’s going to happen to us?’ I asked her.
‘I don’t know. Try to be brave. We have to-’ But then she broke off with an exclamation of pain as something made a loud cracking sound.
‘Mama!’ I called. ‘Mama, are you . . . ?’ Then I found out what made the cracking sound, as something like a long vicious tongue lashed across my flanks, burning like fire; and after that, I was too scared to call out again.
I could only trot along behind my captors, as they led me across the plains to an uncertain future.
Chapter 4
In Captivity
For all of that day, I was dragged headlong through the dust, without pause or rest. Finally, when the sun was sinking towards the Western horizon, we came to some kind of a camp.
It was a poor and shabby looking place, a miserable collection of huts sitting to one side of a small stream. There were fires and I could smell the strange odour of burning meat, a smell I had only ever encountered once before, when a bolt of lightning had come down in the midst of the herd and killed several of my brothers and sisters. But the smell had stayed with me and it kindled fresh fears in my heart.
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