"I saw that that Slag was with you," he said with disapproval.
"Yeah, Slag was there."
"And that nutty boar--what's his name--too."
Bartruff remained silent, hanging his head in shame before his father's interrogation.
"Well, even if you weren't arrested for it," he said, pressing on with inexorable logic, "I know you were doing some hopping anyway--I can tell it from your limp. You hurt your hoof, didn't you?"
Bartruff acknowledged this accusation with an almost imperceptible nod of the head. His father snorted.
"It's just lucky for you they didn't catch you. As for this trumped up charge of assault--well--it's a very good example of asinine stupidity. You picked the wrong target! How stupid can you get? Didn't you know better than to go after the monarch?"
"We didn't know," Bartruff protested miserably. "There was an owl and a squirrel and some armadillos too. We couldn't tell."
"An owl, indeed! It was an owl, all right," Bort said looking away in exasperation. "Oh, it was an owl, all right--" He turned back to his son and glared at him incredulously. "It was Honorashious T. Hardwood! That's who it was! The Seventh Juridical!"
Bartruff absorbed this earth shattering information without comment. Bort stood silently for few moments, letting his anger and irritation with Bartruff subside. He wasn't really upset over his son's behavior so much as at his being caught. As a matter of fact, as far as he could tell, Bartruff had committed no crime. Assault, including non-consensual, had been legal in Hawg City for years now. As for the hawg hopping, Bort himself had done some of that in his day, to be sure. He'd never been caught at it, though, by his father or anyone else; and he had quit, of course, before any real damage had been done. He looked at his son and said in somewhat more sympathetic tones:
"You say they didn't get you for hopping?"
Bartruff nodded.
"Well, they're not going to get away with this!" Bort said with growing self righteous indignation. "I'll sue Hawg City for false arrest!"
He turned and glared defiantly at the guard as if expecting some opposition from this quarter. The guard returned his glare with a look of taciturn contempt. Turning back to the cell, Bort said angrily:
"Politics or no politics, I will not stand for this! Keep your chin up, son--we'll get you out of this!"
With that, our boar turned on his heel and headed off down the corridor without waiting for the startled guard, who hastened his bulk after him to catch up. When he reached the top of the stairs and was about to descend, he paused, his eye caught by some activity visible through the window.
From this height he could see over the neighboring prison wall and into a courtyard which fronted on the avenue. Apparently, the routers had finally come and done their job, for no signs of the overflow remained. In the courtyard there were collected a group in which he recognized the prison Matron, Perceival Theodilious, and Honorashious T. Hardwood. A scruffy boar, evidently a router by trade, lay stretched out upon his back on a wooden bench before them. This individual's hind hooves had been inserted in the two holes in a set of stocks at the bottom of the bench, and the two halves of the stocks secured about his lower legs with a lock. The boar was further secured to the bench by means of two wide straps fitted over his stomach and chest. A great, ugly sow stood at the foot of this bench and at small intervals expertly applied a precision feathered instrument to the delicate center of the secured boar's hooves. At each application of this device the boar winced and arched his back, straining violently and vainly against the straps, and twisting his legs, which were raw and bloody where they rubbed against the wooden stocks. Sweat rolled from his head and body onto the ground, and he gasped hoarsely, unable to catch his breath through the uncontrollable and violent giggles induced by the machinations of the sow.
Horror-struck, Bort gazed upon this scene with hypnotic absorption. Behind the participants, an iron fence bordered the avenue for a short distance, providing the passers by a venue by which they could also enjoy the scene. Now, spectators crowded the sidewalk in a solid mass, their snouts pressed against the fence, gazing in rapt fascination upon the hapless victim.
The guard, having caught up, looked over Bort's shoulder at the scene below. "They got two more to run through the Modifier this afternoon," he advised with the helpfulness of a tour guide.
"What'd he do?" Bort said without taking his eyes away.
The guard shrugged. "Whatever. They keep it running pretty much full up all the time--saves space, and nobody wants to get it again once they've got it once. Quite a deterrent."
Bort shuddered as he contemplated this thought. He turned away and descended the stairs, his nerves and previous composure shattered by the events he had just witnessed. In the vestibule below once again, he approached the bailiff. Mustering his courage, he demanded in a confident tone of voice:
"Bailiff! On what charges are you holding the boar in cell two-A-eighteen?"
The bailiff, perched high up behind his counter, slowly raised his snout from the paperwork in which he had it buried. Given the strident tone of this form of address, the sight of the respectable appearing boar standing below him elicited from this official a grunt of faint surprise. He looked over at the duty constable, who was watching idly.
"Wasn't that the one we just processed in?" he said.
"That's right," the duty constable said. "Bartruff Swinson. Non-consensual assault, I believe. Had two others with him."
The Bailiff turned back to our boar, who sniffed with sensitive dignity:
"He's my son."
The Bailiff took a deep breath and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, I don't agree with it, Mr. Swinson," he said ponderously, "but we got a warrant filled out and signed by higher authority on charges of non-consensual assault. At this level we've no choice but to carry it out."
"But you can't hold somebody for non-consensual assault!"
The Bailiff raised his eyebrows. "I can if I got a warrant from the Seventh Juridical, and signed and swore to by Perceival Theodilious Reinsgold the Eighth!" he said vehemently. Then in more sympathetic tones, he went on: "This'll all get sorted out in Warthog Court, Mr. Swinson. I wouldn't worry much about it. We'll keep an eye on your boy. He'll be okay."
Our boar digested this information with a feeling of frustration and helplessness. Despite the assurances of the Bailiff, the plight of his young Bartruff locked up in jail like a common criminal was almost too much to bear.
"Well," he muttered. "I'll see what the Magistrate has to say about this!"
"Go ahead. Go on and see the Magistrate then," the Bailiff said in tones of helpful encouragement. "Maybe he can help you."
Bort turned away from the Bailiff and slowly crossed the vestibule to the door. The duty constable, unimpressed, eyed him as he passed by his desk. Just before he reached the door, Bort turned around and addressed the room generally, in almost pleading tones:
"But he didn't do anything wrong, did he?"
The duty constable snorted.
"That's the hell of it, ain't it?"
28. Corporal Punishment
Some little while following the events related in the previous chapter Madame DeKooncey and her charges gathered in her offices on the second floor of the prison mound. An indignant Honorashious stalked the floor, grunting and uttering violent imprecations, before the Matron seated at her desk. A visibly shaken Percy stood by, speechless.
"Haarumph! Outrageous! Haarumph!" the owl sputtered angrily, glaring at the Matron as he hobbled awkwardly back and forth. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes--haarumph--haarumph--I should never--haarumph--haarumph--have thought it possible that one being--haarumph--could visit upon another such treatment--haarumph--haarumph--as is meted out by this infernal device! Haarumph!"
Madame DeKooncey shrugged her shoulders. "The use of the Modifier in Hawg City is well known," she said calmly. "Though most assuredly a severe form of punishment, its effectiveness as a deterrent is documented. We
do not coddle our criminals in Hawg City, Judge."
"Haarumph! Yet more than--haarumph--half--haarumph--of your population--haarumph--haarumph--resides in your penitentiary! Haarumph!" the owl grunted, almost too excited to speak coherently. Suddenly stopping and raising a wing ominously into the air, he stared into the Matron's complaisant face, uttering with raspy intensity: "There may be serious consequences, Madame! Haarumph!"
In the face of these strenuous objections Madame DeKooncey maintained her composure with difficulty. She had been well aware of the potential hazards of an inspection by the Seventh. Predictably, the deteriorated conditions of the prison, its great and ever increasing population--these had aroused the ire of the Seventh, which had ruled against such practices. Moreover, the use of corporal punishment--if not torture--in the form of the Modifier was flat out illegal. The difficulty of the Matron's position was highlighted by the carefully orchestrated absence of Grits Hamby or, for that matter, any other city officials, from this inspection. Since the Matron was the on-scene authority, the blame for these conditions, if brought to court, could fall conveniently upon her shoulders, allowing Grits and the Magistrate to escape unscathed. These thoughts had passed instantaneously across Madame DeKooncey's mind when she heard the threat of the owl, and a chill ran down her spine.
"All is in order," she said with a stony control that belied the inner quaking of her soul. "The conditions of the prison are no worse than what is decreed by the legislature and enforced by the law. I merely comply with the law, Judge."
"Haarumph! Madame!" the owl cried, and the ear-like feather tufts on top of his head twitched like a pair of tuning forks. "Haarumph! Such a response--haarumph--namely, I only work here--haarumph--is hardly adequate to the explanation of such a malevolent institution! Haarumph!"
Percy had been standing apart, lost in thought and silent until now, following only absently the exhortations of the owl. Now, he spoke for the first time since they had come away from the scene of the topic of their conversation.
"The stark brutality of it!" he marveled as if commenting on some scientific wonder. "The hideous conditions of life in this city are appalling enough, yet they are as nothing compared to the way the citizens treat each other. A society that would tolerate such filth and in--"
"Hawg City," Madame DeKooncey interrupted in stridently defensive tones, "is as progressive and prosperous a city as you will find anywhere in the jungle. The conditions of life are the necessary by products of our wealth! They are right and good, and I have often thought that one might even use them as scientific measures of our progress."
"Preposterous!" Percy exclaimed. "It may not bother you warthogs to live like this, but these practices affect the whole jungle! The entire savannah is poisoned!" The lion turned to Honorashious. "Has the Seventh Juridical never found occasion to deliver a ruling on these issues? Surely they could not have found them legitimate!"
"Haarumph!" the owl grunted vehemently and flapped his great wings in self righteous indignation. "Legitimate! Haarumph! The Seventh Juridical find such practices legitimate? Indeed--haarumph--" Honorashious preened his feathers, thrust out his chest, and expounded severely: "The practices of Hawg City have been contested in court by the Seventh Juridical on a regular--haarumph--basis for as long as I can remember--haarumph--haarumph. However--haarumph--these hogs have a propensity for litigation which is unmatched anywhere in the jungle--haarumph--haarumph. Their talent for entangling inextricably in a web of technicalities even the simplest of cases is equaled only by their conviction in the face of all evidence to the contrary--haarumph--haarumph--that they are right, and their determination--haarumph--at all costs to win--haarumph. They will claim--haarumph--when challenged in warthog court--haarumph--haarumph--that this sow is solely to blame for the Modifier--haarumph! Haarumph! Unfortunately--haarumph--haarumph--and it is with the greatest reluctance that I say it--stronger and more expedient measures than the due process of law allows for may have been warranted in this case! Haarumph--haarumph!"
"An emergency executive order!" Percy said with the force of conviction.
"Your Honor--Perceival Theodilious--please!" Madame DeKooncey cautioned. "Do not overreact to cultural differences." The Matron had been secretly relieved to find that the owl seemed well informed of the Byzantine political intrigues of her milieu. Perhaps it wouldn't go so bad for her after all. "Though I hold myself personally responsible and accountable for the conditions in this penitentiary, there are few changes of any substance that I can make without the sanction of higher authority. And most certainly the over population of the prison is a matter which is out of my hands entirely. These issues which have so excited your wrath must be dealt with, in full, in Warthog Court and in the Hawg City legislature--any other course of action would be highly detrimental to the welfare of all law abiding citizens."
"Haarumph!" Honorashious grunted with extreme vexation. "Haarumph! You presume, Madame," he said with supercilious and overbearing patronization, "to lecture the Seventh on matters of court litigation? I can assure you--haarumph--that in their inadequacy, your bureaucratic perspective and mundane notions of the court are most--haarumph--pitiable! Haarumph! The Seventh Juridical is quite capable of accounting for any--haarumph--cultural differences. Warthog Court rulings should never--haarumph--under any circumstances--haarumph--countermand those of higher courts! Nor should actions taken by the--haarumph--Hawg City legislature! Haarumph!" The owl softened his voice somewhat and assumed a more tolerant tone: "Your comments are, however, apropos in one sense--namely, that we must proceed immediately to higher authority! Haarumph! Though far from absolving you from any personal responsibility--haarumph--or liability--haarumph--for these pernicious practices and conditions, the Seventh concedes your inability to initiate unilateral reforms. Few in your position would have the strength of character, the fortitude, to rise to such greatness. We will deal with these--haarumph--issues, as well as those more pressing ones which brought us here in the first place, in Warthog Court! Haarumph! You will find--haarumph--that the Seventh Juridical is more than--haarumph--equal to any legal arguments that the warthogs can muster--haarumph--haarumph. We must go directly to the Magistrate! An Executive order will be issued, calling an emergency session of Warthog Court! Haarumph!"
"I have several issues for the Magistrate," Percy said ominously.
"The Magistrate will have no choice, of course, but to obey," Madame DeKooncey said meekly. Her tone of compliance belied an inner chafing at the owl's unflattering characterization of her as a virtual sycophant. The Matron's keen instincts for survival, however, caused her to swallow her pride and, without further comment, graciously escort her charges to the antechamber.
Here, on entering the Matron's offices earlier, they had deposited the Sergeant Major. Now, as the group came out, the sparrow jumped up with a start from the game of dice which he and the thin clerk had been pursuing with the greatest intensity upon the floor.
"Sergeant Major!" barked the owl.
"Heh, heh," the sparrow chuckled weakly.
"Haarumph! We go to the offices of the Magistrate--to the Central Pavilion! Haarumph!"
"Aye Jedge!" the Sergeant Major responded with a sharp salute. Then he turned with a frown to the clerk, who peered back at him through the thick lenses of a pair of spectacles. "We'll be need'n full up escort services, Reedslowe--" the sparrow rasped, "--to replace the entourage of Perceival Theodilious Reinsgold the Eighth, which you have locked up inside the jail!"
"The clerk keeper will arrange for a warthog escort in numbers appropriate to the glory and dignity of the king," Madame DeKooncey said. "They will greatly speed your way through the crowds."
"Haarumph!"
Percy nodded solemnly, and they all departed with Reedslowe, the Penitentiary House Clerk, and the Sergeant Major leading the way through the outer offices of the prison. Madame DeKooncey accompanied them to the gate on the Avenue. Here Reedslowe left them for a short time to return almost immediately in t
he company of several sinister looking, burly, prison guards, who moved silently to encompass the group in a protective ring.
After the Matron had exchanged with the principals some several further official formalities and niceties of speech, requisite at the leaving of so august a party, the newly formed entourage departed.
29. The Magistrate is Indisposed
The progress of our now greatly diminished party through the streets of Hawg City was quite different from that which they had achieved heretofore without their burly escorts. With much snorting and grunting these fierce and powerful individuals shouldered and gored their way through the crowds like routers through so much obstructing muck, laughing scornfully at the panicked squeals and desperate, scrambling maneuvers of the pedestrians who frantically attempted to remove themselves from their path.
With the benefit of such an escort they were soon able to arrive in the stately precincts of the city's center. As they passed through the outer approaches to this section the heavy traffic and crowds dissolved, and the general character of the common pedestrian underwent a marked change. Here they found, traversing in serene and pompous composure the ordered paths and walkways of the pavilion of burrows and mounds which housed the city's governmental institutions, Hawg City's most prestigious citizens. Each engaged upon their several missions, the difficulty and delicacy of which were, respectively, most severe and exceedingly complex, and the import of which was to the city's interests the gravest, these hogs wore an air of utmost seriousness as they conversed in low tones on all manner of business. Notable as well was the high quality of personal appearance in evidence here. Manes bristled and stood up in perfectly groomed, orderly fans upon thick, muscular necks. Sunlight flashed and shone from brilliantly burnished hooves. No routers were present; the city's center constituted the headwaters, so to speak, of all of the effluent pouring from Hawg City, and so near its source the volume carried in the small ditches had not yet grown to more than a trickle.
The Hollowed Tree Page 17