The Hollowed Tree

by R. K. Johnstone

  "An audit would be no cause for your concern, of course," Percy said. The lion was wide awake and alert now, listening attentively.

  "My dear Percy, I should have no qualms whatsoever to an examination of our holdings," Henrietta said with the greatest equanimity. "The integrity of the court is beyond question; we have nothing to hide."

  Honorashious came aggressively to the defense of his wife:

  "Haarumph! You may rest assured," he said, his eyes flashing, "Henrietta's accounting is flawless! Haarumph!"

  "To continue, we enlisted the assistance of many in our cause--the Sergeant Major used his martial influence upon the smaller birds--and we organized our search systematically. The Sergeant Major, under my command–for Honorashious was deeply involved at the time in a case of the utmost importance and seriousness of consequence–was extremely exacting in his demands upon the volunteers. They responded magnificently to his leadership. Even with such help, however, we feel most fortunate to have discovered this tree set so perfectly among all of these other great trees upon the River of Judgment. The hollowed portion rises to fourteen feet, an ideal altitude. The diameter of the bowl, though all hollowed trees tend to have substantial trunks, is exceedingly great, extending fully eight feet. And such magnificent branches, along which we have also extended some rooms by means of the intelligent use of strategically located knotholes for doors, are indeed rarely encountered."

  The group examined the dwelling with undisguised admiration. The glowing phosphorous lamps cast upon the porch and bowl an antique, yellowish light. The great branches departed the trunk and vanished abruptly into the surrounding darkness. The Sergeant Major thrust out his chest with pride, and Egbert looked on intently, calculating the structural details of the architecture. Boston gazed wistfully and wondered if a home of such grandeur were possible for himself. Even Percy was openly impressed and maintained a respectful silence.

  "It was indeed an arduous task to discover such a tree. This difficulty, however, was as nothing compared to what you now contemplate. For the object of our deliberations is no mere plant, but the hallowed Hollowed Tree which is one of the secrets of the jungle. It extends without a core from its base to its crown. To your advantage, such trees occur but rarely in the jungle, and the chances for mistaken identification are therefore greatly reduced. Of course, in the last analysis the empirical knowledge of hollowed trees in general, however beneficial to our search, is both superficial and inadequate to any full description. And you will see from my story, you may find it to be of limited use even in your search."

  "Yet even our factual knowledge of the Hollowed Tree is but imperfect at best, second hand and unsubstantiated. Some years ago Honorashious and I did receive a first hand account from a passing shaman wolverine, who had become entangled in an exceedingly complex legal action. A group of litigious badgers had brought the action as a result of certain ceremonial irregularities alleged to have resulted in a youngster's broken paw. The case was complicated, and the depositions of the witnesses–for all of the badgers insisted upon giving testimony– dragged on for over a week. After much time had been wasted in the examination of witnesses it turned out that the badgers had suspected all along that it wasn't the fault of the wolverine. The youngster, of whose presence at the ceremony no one seemed to have any distinct recollection, had actually broken his paw while engaged in the chase of a sibling through a burrow under construction. The badgers' vindictiveness and natural penchant for spectacle had inspired them, nonetheless, to seek the court. At the end of the trial the wolverine was absolved of any guilt and the badgers sent home in good order, satisfied that justice had been done."

  "Whooeee!" the irrepressible Sergeant Major exclaimed spontaneously. "'en wasn't thet shaman wolverine a case though! Took near a week to get rid o' the smell!"

  "The shaman stayed on briefly after the proceedings. In his elation and relief at the propitious outcome of the proceedings, he befriended us and became quite voluble. He spoke freely and without circumspection. His ceaseless travels had carried him to every part of the jungle at one time or another. There wasn't a group of animals anywhere he had not visited. He possessed a knowledge of the jungle, a breadth of experience, which went beyond any that either Honorashious or I had ever encountered."

  "Eventually the wolverine paused, interrupting what had been an unbroken stream of speech. Glancing uncertainly from one to the other of us, he hesitated, somewhat breathlessly, hanging for a brief instant as if with trepidation prior to plunging from a precipice. Then, with an air of recklessness that was almost despair, he broached the subject of his most recent experience. He spoke of having only just come from the discovery of the Hollowed Tree. Its location, although not on a major trail, was one he had passed by many times before. He had stood in its very presence more than once, looked at it–yet failed to see. He had been for some time, he said, searching in a subconscious manner for the Hollowed Tree. To find that it had been before him all along and he had failed to recognize it came as something of a shock to his sensibilities and a repudiation of his professional competence. As a man of the spirit, the shaman looked somewhat shame-faced when he arrived at this part of the story. In its outward appearance, he said defensively, it was unremarkable. It rose straight upwards, culminating in an apex just below the surrounding canopy. Intermittent branches and greenery were sparse. Its sides were riddled with the marks of countless woodpeckers. He could not say what had caught his attention on that day as opposed to any other. It appeared every bit of it a most ordinary–if hollow–tree. Nothing was different from any other time that he had been in its presence. No, what it was that caused him to look differently at it that day he could not say; but the recognition of the Hollowed Tree struck him with the all the force of a revelation."

  "At this point the wolverine halted abruptly, as if regretting the indiscretion of his speech. We had become so engrossed in his story, and his stopping it in the middle was so unexpected, that we were dumbfounded. After some moments the oppressive silence became well nigh unbearable, and an uncontrollable desire to remove myself from his desperate gaze overwhelmed my curiosity. I was happy when the Sergeant Major interrupted with an item of household business, in the name of which I excused myself from his company."

  "So," Henrietta said primly. "Such are the facts as I know them about the Hollowed Tree. That you can find it there is no doubt–if the shaman can be believed–he gave us a good idea of the vicinity in which it is located. The ability, however, to see it as it is–that is, as something other than merely a common tree–is another matter altogether, a much more complex proposition–possibly, even unattainable."

  12. The Shaman's Failure

  Boston frowned and scratched his head. Henrietta's story had left him in a state of befuddlement. He spoke up warily:

  "I thought the Hollowed Tree was a secret of the jungle, Judge. Recognizing that none of us three has any first hand knowledge, we have consulted the court as cognizant authority on all matters pertaining to and associated with the secrets of the jungle. What's all of this about a shaman wolverine? Frankly," the bear said contentiously, "I'm confused."

  "Haarumph!" Honorashious grunted. "The court has never professed to have any–haarumph–first hand knowledge of the–haarumph–haarumph–Hollowed Tree–haarumph. On the contrary, I have stated clearly within the–haarumph–half hour that I lack the experience, knowledge and expertise of this–haarumph–subject, which you are nevertheless determined to ascribe to me–haarumph–and the court."

  "Well, if that's the case," said the bear with peevish despair, "we're in a fix!"

  "Haarumph–hold on, Boston," Honorashious said with patronizing calmness. "Haarumph–haarumph–you jump too quickly to the wrong–haarumph–conclusions. Even though the–haarumph–court may not have all of the detailed knowledge that you expected, you are correct in coming here to consult on the proper course of action in this case. I can assure you that the court has no intention of becoming the p
urveyor of idle rumors and gossip, unsubstantiated fact and misinformation. The shaman is a source of first hand knowledge of the tree. He is a creature of the spirit. You spoke earlier of separating the myth from the reality–the shaman is essential to that task, assuming of course that he can be believed. And on that score need I remind you that the assessment of character is critical to the determination of truth and, therefore, fundamental to the business of the court. We are not so easily deceived as you imply. As a matter of fact, from a professional standpoint, I can say this with all surety: he was no idle liar. Furthermore, I see no way in which he could profit personally from such a lie. In short, I believe him. Haarumph!"

  "Aw, Judge! Boston protested in disbelief. "We can't go off without something better'n a half-baked dream of a shaman wolverine! Surely you got some facts and information in your library on the secrets of the jungle!"

  "Haarumph! As I have said," the owl rejoined in tones of measured forcefulness, "I have no expertise in this area!"

  "It doesn't surprise me," Percy said laconically.

  "Haarumph!"

  "Then I guess you aren't the cognizant authority on the secrets of the jungle?" Boston asked querulously.

  "The secrets of the jungle are known and protected by the court, but their interpretation, legislation, and general maintenance is not within its purview."

  "Hah!" Percy exclaimed, saying unpleasantly: "So you admit it! You have no authority over the secrets of the jungle!"

  "Haarumph! The authority of the court," the owl retorted angrily, "is not the question, Percy!"

  "Gentlemen please!" Henrietta cried. "If you continue to quarrel and fret in this way, over every trivial matter, you will waste the whole night! All issues should be dropped excepting those which bring us closer to our goal of finding our dear lost boy. Your visit, Perceival Theodilious Reinsgold the Eighth, our Monarch–you must understand–we treat as an unofficial matter. Surely, you do not think that Honorashious would presume to pass official judgment on the Hollowed Tree and the secrets of the jungle?"

  "Henrietta's right, Lion," Egbert said. "This is no time for petty quarrels. I thought the shaman's story as related by Henrietta most informative. My sincere thanks, Henrietta, for your eloquent discourse on hollowed trees and for relating the wolverine's story. Both shall be of great assistance."

  "I never meant–“ Percy began defensively.

  "Oh for crying out loud," Boston interrupted fretfully. "Just shut up, Lion! We'll be here all night at this rate!"

  At this point Henrietta directed a meaningful look at the Sergeant Major, who appeared in danger of cataclysmic explosion at any instant. The bird required no further urging. He rapidly traversed the porch and with a lop–sided flutter of his lame wing sprang into the air, successfully gaining the top railing of the banister, where he hopped up and down on two twig–like stalks of legs, furious. "Order!" he squawked in a perfect fit of anger. "Order–‘fficial bidness or no, I say–ORDER 'N THE COURT!"

  A muffled silence fell over the group. After some instants–passed by the group somewhat guiltily–Honorashious broke the silence with a severe grunt:

  "Haarumph! That will do quite well, Sergeant Major," he said with a nod of approval. The disheveled sparrow stayed where he was, however, glaring at the group as if to take all comers. "As I was saying, the wolverine's story is quite–haarumph–apropos to the issue at hand. Leaving aside the–haarumph–business of whether or no this is an official visit–for all of the opinions of the court carry great weight, my dear wife, regardless of venue–such information and advice as I give to you now is liable to be the best, the–haarumph–most comprehensive that you are able to obtain anywhere in the–haarumph–jungle."

  The old horned owl glared combatively at his listeners as if daring them to raise any further objections. Boston's forehead was as wrinkled with anxiety as a dried prune by now, but he settled quietly back on his haunches and prepared to listen. Percy was on his stomach, head held high and paws on the ground before him, alert and attentive. Egbert, who had hung on every word thus far as if his life depended upon it, half squatted in high expectation. Once he was satisfied that he had established the proper mood, Honorashious continued:

  "The wolverine was–haarumph–well-versed in that very–haarumph–area of which you inquired earlier, Boston. After Henrietta had left us alone I sat for some moments longer, caught in that gaze of desperation no less securely than a prisoner in irons. I had the distinct and unpleasant impression that he had inadvertently revealed some secret part of himself to which I now bore reluctant witness–haarumph! The elation with which he had begun, and which had drawn from him this–this–haarumph–confessional, as it were, had passed, and it was evident that any further speech would cause him great pain. My embarrassment in the presence of his anguish induced me to search desperately for some way to relieve the tension, but I found myself, inexplicably, incapable of uttering a single word. Any scientific estimation of the actual number of these moments would belie their duration. In all actuality they could not have been so many; yet, in my heightened state of awareness each second passed in this torturous state of unease seemed to extend to eternity. I think that we should have sat forever–I here on my perch, he sullen and hurtful there on the porch–if it had depended upon me to breach that–haarumph–silence–haarumph–haarumph."

  "Finally, however, the wolverine sighed. It was barely audible, detected more in the rise and fall of his chest than in the hearing of it, but it was enough to break that oppressive–haarumph–silence. It must have signaled the resolution of some inner conflict; for with an air of deliberate resolve he started up talking again. It had been there all along, he said with self contempt–unbeknownst to him, the putative expert in all matters concerning the secrets of the jungle. No better than any common animal, he had known of it, but never consciously sought it out. Yes, though he would never have admitted it, not even to himself–or rather, especially not to himself–he had actually avoided this most important area of his responsibility. It was not quite true what he had said earlier–that he had been subconsciously searching for the tree. No, he said mournfully, he had been subconsciously aware all along of his shortcomings as a shaman–as are we all of our personal shortcomings–and so had been aware of the possibility of coming face to face with the incarnation of his failure; but in truth, he sought it, if at all, with a trepidation and reluctance no less than if it represented the greatest fear imaginable."

  "Haarumph! I viewed him with bemusement. I had begun to get an inkling now of what he was getting at. He seemed to have taken upon himself the sole responsibility for the shortcomings of all of the animals in the jungle, and the burden of his failure, it was evident, would only grow stronger over time if he continued in this vein. 'But surely,' I said somewhat exasperated, 'we all have our failures–our moments of cowardice and such. It's fundamental to the condition of life–haarumph! Greatness lies to a great extent in the grace with which one carries on in the face of it.' But he repelled my bluff attempt to shore him up and only looked at me, it seemed, with greater shame than heretofore."

  "Faced with it, he did his best to assimilate its secrets and put them in their proper perspective. He stayed with the tree for some weeks, at its roots and in its vicinity. He conducted all of the various, arcane ceremonies and rituals of his trade, exercising an ascetic self discipline and self denial, fasting for the entire period and taking only small amounts of water. He'd even managed to ascend to the top, and though this fantastic image of a wolverine become arboreal nearly made me laugh out loud at him, I suppressed the urge with all my might. Clinging to the sides of the trunk at the apex of the tree, he'd gazed into its heart. A twisted limb grew out of the side and upwards, and its foliage sheltered the opening so thickly that only the most violent of rains could penetrate it. Beneath this canopy-like growth the shaman clung tightly with his forepaws to the edge, his head thrust over and nearly submerged in the opening, peering into darkness without end
. And here he experienced the final blow–what was his greatest defeat of all. For no matter how he tried, he could not bring himself to descend into its heart. On the threshold of his very destiny, so to speak, he experienced the ultimate failure of nerve. And not only once. He descended and meditated long at the foot of the tree, mustering all of his courage to meet this final challenge. He ascended again–but to no avail. He repeated his descent. He tried many times more throughout the day to force himself into that hole but always with the same result. He grew so weak that he could no longer muster the strength to reach the top. Finally, overcome by the combined effects of the lack of food and physical exhaustion, he collapsed and fell into a state of unconsciousness."

  "It would have been most appropriate, the shaman said wistfully, if he'd never revived–if he'd never awoke. He should have expired there, fittingly, at the foot of that tree, the great bole over his slowly disintegrating bones ascendant like a headstone. No such luck. A brace of hares, discovering him near death, had revived him, brought him sustenance and saved his life. He considered their well intentioned efforts a stroke of misfortune the worst imaginable. They stayed with him for a whole day during which he regained sufficient strength to stand and walk. Soon, his hunger became ravenous, but he managed, nevertheless, to reign in his naturally bloodthirsty disposition and forgo the temptation offered by the plump hares. He thanked them graciously and went his way."

  "He had been en route to preside over the ceremony of the badgers when he found it. He had gone on as in a daze, carrying out his duties in a rote, mechanical manner. The charges and the court case had temporarily brought him back to his senses. They represented a new cause for anxiety and pushed his recent experience with the Hollowed Tree into the background of his mind. Now, however, it had surfaced, inevitably, in all its terrifying significance."