The Hollowed Tree

by R. K. Johnstone

  A general grunting and snorting in support of this sentiment rose from the crowd, but in the next instant another voice shouted antagonistically in answer, "No, don't let 'em go...they're prob'ly hawg hoppers! I say...throw 'em all in jail!" and now a general murmur of approval seemed to lend the approbation of the fickle crowd to this sentiment.

  Then the group had passed. In their wake the hogs closed in and the traffic began to move once again.

  Transfixed by the image of the prisoners and their captors, our boar stood in the middle of the boulevard, looking on at the receding entourage, oblivious to the angry grunts and snorts of the traffic which streamed around him. He was still numb with the shock of seeing his adolescent boar son in the custody of the authorities. He would have known, of course, even without the squirrel's announcement, the identity of this party. The lion and the bear were famous throughout the jungle. If he hadn't seen them a single time in his entire life, he could still guess who they were with a certainty; and if this weren't enough, he had also caught sight of an owlish form soaring high above, as if following in company with the group on the ground, and whose identity under the circumstances could be none other than that of the presiding judge (word of his retirement having met with a universal and stubborn disbelief) of the Seventh Juridical.

  None of these thoughts in any way comforted our boar. The appearance of so high ranking a delegation in Hawg City would have been unusual under any circumstances; that they came, apparently, with the express intent of delivering the good Bartruff and his comrades to the prison was a circumstance almost too distressing to contemplate.

  Finally, however, arousing from his stupor, Bort Swinson took the only course of action which presented itself: he determined to follow the party to their destination.

  23. The Magistrate

  In the city's center, in the executive offices of the Hawg City Magistrate, a grizzled warthog sat behind an enormous teak wood desk and scowled fiercely. Standing before him, the recipients of this expression of displeasure presented a wide range of attitudes. One, an equally grizzled boar, stood off a bit to one side and behind the others, smoking a great stogie and evincing in his mien, casual but authoritative bearing, and appearance in general an attitude of the utmost calm and composure. This boar appeared supremely unconcerned, though his own self was expressly included in the aforesaid scowl. Another boar, Grits Hamby, leaned over the desk in a threatening manner and snarled:

  "And how do you suggest that we legislate control over the appearance of these distinguished guests? The last time I checked, the Hawg City Legislature lacked the authority to order about the Seventh Juridical Precinct!"

  "Not to mention Percy Theodilious," the unconcerned hog added in a bored monotone. Knocking the ash from his cigar onto the slick dirt floor, he sighed and looked out the window. "There is absolutely nothing we can do about it. I thought that the owl had retired though. I guess he's come out."

  The boar behind the desk screwed up his face into an even fiercer expression and lunged to meet the snout extended across his desk.

  "I will not allow unannounced visitors to usurp my authority!" He growled vehemently and glared into the boar's eyes, their great snouts almost touching. "And furthermore," he continued harshly, his voice taking on a note of heavy sarcasm, "I do not care who these individuals are!"

  Several other boars and two sows, all presenting similar distinguished and imposing appearances, had been on the verge of interjecting their own remarks several times during the course of this discussion, yet each time they hesitated with timidity and failed to carry out their intentions. These looked first to one, then to the other of the disputants, clearly undecided as to which to lend their support.

  "Percy and the Seventh Juridical will go wherever they wish," the boar over at the side said insouciantly. "Why are you so worried anyway? They've caught some hoppers out in the savannah. Slap them in jail and thank them for the assist."

  "Fool!" the boar cried, sitting back and addressing the one by the window. "Don't you think I've considered that? You're the one who's blathering about their power and authority! The Seventh Juridical is certain to insist on a full hearing!"

  "But as magistrate you have the authority to decide the case based on such factual evidence as is presented," the boar countered with cool litigiousness.

  "We could handle this if it were either of them alone--either Percy or the Seventh--but not like this," the Magistrate said, his vehemence subsiding. "Not with both of them together." A shadow of self doubt flickered across his snout as he considered. After a moment he said in somewhat uncertain, absent tones: "Percy will sanction the Seventh, and then the Seventh will run hog wild with litigation. You know Honorashious as well as I. Once he gets started there is no stopping him."

  Grits Hamby had backed off from leaning over his desk now and was watching the other two. "Well," he said in an official manner. "I've done all I can do. Physical security is as good as it can be, given the conditions. Turn these hoppers over to me, and in my capacity as Warden and Chief of the Hawg City Constabulary I'll take care of 'em. Your job, Mr. Horace Peacot, Mr. Prosecutor, is to argue the case!" He directed a look of significance at the boar over at the side.

  The Prosecutor responded with a contemptuous snort to this impertinence and had just opened his mouth to make an appropriate reply, when a new visitor intruded on the proceedings. The new arrival halted respectfully at the threshold, waiting permission to enter.

  "Yes, Captain," the Chief of Constabulary said. "What do you have? Have you found out what business this party is about?"

  The several other hogs, huddled in front of the desk, fell away whispering to the sides of the burrow in order to allow the Magistrate an unobstructed view of the newcomer. The Constabulary officer, Captain Campbell, stepped forward in a brisk, military manner. He stopped and stood stiffly in the center of the room. Light flashed from a set of brilliantly polished hooves. With a brief, respectful glance at the Prosecutor and his Chief, he then addressed the Magistrate directly:

  "Yessir. They got attacked by some teen-agers. Boars and sows. Caught three boars and are escorting them to the authorities for incarceration."

  "Attacked?" the Magistrate registered surprise on his snout. "Not hawg hoppers?"

  "Nossir. That is, they didn't catch 'em hopping, anyway. It is my opinion, though, that they were actually doing some hopping, since they were in the immediate vicinity of a well known wallow out in the savannah."

  "Horace?" the boar looked inquiringly at the Prosecutor. "They can't do this," he protested incredulously. "Why--you can't arrest a warthog for assault! They've arrested these boars and are holding them without charges!"

  The prosecutor frowned. "Unfortunately there is, in fact, such a law, and the Seventh Juridical has a fairly consistent history of strict enforcement. We would argue, however, that our own Hawg City statutes, expressly allowing for the freedom of non-consensual assault, by parties of any and all ages, supersede those of the Seventh."

  "Hah!" the boar exclaimed, banging the desk with a hoof. "We will take Honorashious on in Warthog Court then! I've always wanted to put him in his place! Now is the time to do it. We'll have to be careful though." A gleam of cunning entered the beady eyes of the Magistrate as he considered this prospect. "Yes, very careful. Percy Theodilious will be present. Never mind," the warthog chuckled to himself. "We'll deal with him as well!"

  "I wrote 'em out a citation," the Captain said. "Illegal weaponry. They were packing feather swords, every one of them."

  "So much the better," the boar said. "Violating local ordinances. Horace?"

  "We certainly can press the issue. They may claim executive privilege though," the Prosecutor said thoughtfully.

  "They threw the citations down," the Captain said. "Refused to accept them on the grounds that they constituted the Seventh Juridical, and they were in company with Percy Theodilious, and, therefore, that they would not be served with any citation."

  "Oh?
" the Prosecutor raised his coarse eyebrows.

  "Yessir," the Captain said crisply.

  "Did the bear respond in any way to your citation?" the Prosecutor continued with keen interest.

  "Yessir, the bear did."

  "The bear?" exclaimed the Magistrate. "Boston? Ha, ha! That buffoon! What did he try to do?"

  "The bear started to argue about the citation, but then the squirrel piped up and--"

  "Squirrel?" the Magistrate said.

  "Egbert," said the Chief of Constabulary. "He's with them."

  "Yessir, Egbert. He started to argue with the bear and then the owl swooped down and yelled at all of them and told them to shut up and not accept the citations. After that they all just went on their way and refused to be served with them. Being under strict instructions against the use of unnecessary force," and here he looked significantly at the Chief, "I broke off my contact with the party and returned here to report."

  "We'll throw the bear and the squirrel and any of the others in the hoosegow," the Magistrate chuckled. "They're not in any official status! Give them some of the Modifier--that'll make them reconsider their options!" He leered at the group severally.

  "I'm not so sure," the Prosecutor argued. "It may not be so easy to throw the party of Percy Theodilious--possibly officers of the Seventh Juridical as well--summarily into prison. And neither Percy nor Honorashious is likely to sit back and let us lock up the bear without serious resistance. Boston is a formidable opponent in debate, his well known anxiety attacks notwithstanding. Without the bear, the others would be far less effective in Warthog Court."

  "Oh, but we shall try!" the Magistrate said in suddenly hushed tones, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "We shall try, Horace!"

  24. Madame DeKooncey

  They were having a busy day at the Hawg City Jail and Penitentiary. First, the trial of a whole gang of young boars had concluded, the defendants having been duly convicted on charges of hawg hopping, and the whole gang must be processed and transferred from the jail to the penitentiary. Then there had been problems in Section Seven. A lifer, faced with the prospect of a disciplinary session with the Modifier, had gone berserk; it had taken four of the stoutest guards to subdue him. These matters were significantly complicated when, in the course of the tussle, events fell out such that one of the lifer's tusks had broken off clean at the skin line. Due to the seriousness of this injury, and the inadequacy to treat it of the penitentiary's own limited medical facilities, they had had to transport the prisoner to the Hawg City Hospital. And as if these events did not constitute enough activity for one day, early that morning a heavy overflow had deluged the ground floor sections of both jail and penitentiary. Since the penal institution occupied a position far below most others on the city dispatcher's list of job priorities, the prisoners were unlikely to get relief before late in the afternoon, and possibly not until the next day.

  Madame DeKooncey, Superintendent of the jailhouse and penitentiary complex, had dealt in hand with each of these problems as they arose. As the day wore on, however, the limits of her patience had been sorely tried. Then, just when she thought that her central nervous system had reached the point of a total breakdown, she had received the upsetting news that the Seventh Juridical, the honorable Honorashious T. Hardwood himself, had apprehended three young boars on unspecified charges and was escorting them to the Hawg City jail.

  The middle aged boar prison guard who had brought her this news stood by waiting expectantly in front of her desk. Receipt of this latest bit of agitation brought the great sow involuntarily to her hooves.

  "Honorashious T. Hardwood, you say? I thought he was in retirement! What next!"

  "Yes ma'am," the guard said warily and fidgeted with a tusk. The vehemence of the Matron's response was somewhat disconcerting.

  "That's all I need right now! Today!" she said, striking the desk top sharply with a hoof and running her eyes somewhat wildly about the room. "An inspection by the Seventh Juridical! Why--I have a foot of effluent on the ground floor, and there's not a router in sight! There's no telling what the Seventh Juridical will do when they get in here!"

  The Matron had never before suffered the misfortune of having to stand an official inspection by the Seventh Juridical, but the predilections and prejudices of Honorashious T. Hardwood were well known to the Hawg City legal and penal establishment. Once inside the prison, the old horned owl would undoubtedly want to conduct an impromptu inspection. Many of the practices of the institution over which the Matron presided directly contradicted the beliefs and rulings of the Seventh. Theoretically at least, these practices and policies complied strictly with laws passed by the Hawg City legislature, supported by the official city government from the Magistrate on down, and she should have had nothing to worry about. In practice, however, she knew enough to recognize the danger in which she stood of being made a scapegoat.

  As these thoughts revolved in her head, an underweight boar with a thick set of spectacles riding on his snout stuck his head in the door from the outer office and announced breathlessly:

  "Warden's on board!"

  The Matron's devastation was complete. Warden Grits Hamby, whose primary and proper office was that of Chief, Hawg City Constabulary, served in a mainly titular position of authority over her as Matron of the prison and jail. The City Magistrate had peremptorily bestowed upon his person this additional appellation of warden, justifying the decision on the basis of the collocation within the same complex of the city jail and the prison. The jail rightly fell under the authority of the Constabulary, he reasoned, and so it must come under the purview of the Chief. As if by afterthought, the Magistrate had extended Chief Hamby's authority to include the prison also, thereby ensuring that a strict accountability was maintained. In all reality, however, the reasons for the subordination of the Matron by way of creating a redundant office will be easily recognized as highly political in nature.

  Possessed of a naturally arrogant and overbearing personality, the Warden took every opportunity to exert his authority over the Matron, often employing an abusive and offensive manner. Now, she sank slowly into her chair and stared across the room, ignoring the guard, who moved uneasily to one side and then slipped unnoticed out of the room.

  A few moments later, preceded by a brief flutter of scurrying activity in the outer office, the Warden himself strode unannounced through the door with Captain Campbell following close on his heels. Halting before Madame DeKooncey, the grizzled boar sucked his breath in sharply through his snout and glared at the Matron across her desk.

  "Madame!" he said belligerently. "The conditions of this facility are unacceptable!"

  Madame DeKooncey placed her hooves carefully on the desk before her and placidly observed the overbearing boar. She had managed to compose her facial expression into a mask of serene and pleasant attentiveness.

  "Oh?" she said with measured concern.

  "Of course!" the boar snarled, lowering his voice while raising its level of intensity. He leaned over the desk in a threatening manner. "Don't play dumb with me, lady! That overflow is more than hock deep! I demand an explanation of why you have no alternate means of entering these premises under these conditions?"

  The Matron maintained her composure.

  "The overflow extends throughout the ground floor of the jail, as well as the prison," she said with calm matter of factness. "The prisoners are forced to stand or they would drown. If you want to take care of the overflow, raise us on the Routers' list."

  "Look at this!" The boar stepped back from the desk and raised his hooves singly from the ground. At this juncture Captain Campbell, until now standing silently in the background, stepped smartly to the forefront. His highly polished hooves and legs exhibited the mars and splatters of muck obtained as a result of trodding through the overflow. The muck rose to a point well above his boney hocks.

  Unimpressed, the Matron looked on with seemingly impassive disinterest.

  "Is the Modif
ier out of commission too? What kind of an institution are you running here?" Grits Hamby cried with exasperation. He lifted his fore hooves and held them out to his sides in a farcical, beseeching manner. He held this attitude for a moment as if waiting for the demanded explanation. Then, dropping his hooves, he stepped up to the desk and abruptly changed his tone: "We have an important piece of business to attend to, Madame!" Accompanying this sudden change of tone was a total transformation of the boar's countenance into an expression of the shrewdest cunning. His eyes narrowed into a pair of glittering black beads, and he poked his snout aggressively over the desk at the seated sow. "The conditions of this institution, unfortunately, may have consequences," he seethed in a low voice. "At any moment, the Seventh Juridical is expected to arrive at the Hawg City Jail to deposit three young boars."

  "I am well aware of the Seventh Juridical's visit," the Matron said, bucking up a bit under the grating tone of the warden. "Are you aware, however, that Honorashious Hardwood is in an official retirement status?"

  "Fool! Honorashious will never retire. He comes out of retirement at will. He retains his authority even in retirement; it's in the charter. Besides, Perceival Theodilious tolerates him because he has no other with a comparable expertise."

  "We eagerly await their arrival."

  "Yes, most eagerly, I'm sure," the warden said with heavy irony and paused before continuing. "Captain Campbell has already approached the group during its progression down Central Boulevard. He has made direct inquiries into the nature of the charges. He has also posed several discreet questions as to the nature of business which brings the Seventh Juridical into the precincts of Hawg City in the first place."

  "They've caught some youngsters hawg hopping, I thought," the Matron said.

  "No," the Warden said with condescending patience. "Captain Campbell has discovered that the charges upon which they have apprehended these young boars are, in fact, those of non-consensual assault."