horse reared up and came crashing down on the root once more. He turned and glared at the assembled creatures. "Did any of you hear that?" he asked.
The animals looked at the horse. Then they looked at the King of the Cats who was trying to appear nonchalant. Then they looked at the horse again and all shook their heads. "I thought I heard something like the sighing of the breeze in the topmost branches of the trees," said a little bird, "but I'm not sure."
The horse was amazed. "But this is of little use to me," he said to the King of the Cats, "for I am too big and heavy to walk about on tree branches."
"Nonsense," smiled the King of the Cats. "They're much stronger than they look. All it takes is a little practice. You'll soon get used to it and then you'll be able to gallop through the forest as quickly and silently as I do."
Then a look of concern crossed the face of the King of the Cats. "Why," he said nervously, "since you are so big and strong, you may even be able to run faster through the treetops than I."
The horse smiled reassuringly. "Oh, I doubt that I should ever become as quick and as good at it as you. Where do I start?"
"Well," said the King of the Cats, "if you really insist on doing this, I suppose you might go over to where this high root enters the ground and walk up toward me."
The horse walked around to where the wide arched root entered the ground and stepped up onto it. He stomped on it with his hoof and looked around. All the forest creatures tried to look as if they hadn't heard anything. The horse took a few more steps. The root was wide and flat where it entered the ground though it became narrower as it approached the tree, it was still more than strong enough to support his weight. He continued carefully on, higher and higher.
The King of the Cats backed up along the high root as the horse advanced toward him until he was right up against the trunk of the tree.
"That was easy enough," said the horse. "Now what do I do?"
The King of the Cats turned and looked up at the tree trunk. "The branches are too high on this tree. Why don't you back down and we will find one where they are easier to get to?"
The horse looked around him, at the nearest branches high above and at the ground far below. "Horses do not like to back up," he said.
"Well, you could try to turn around," said the King of the Cats, "though it is rather narrow."
The horse tried to turn around and found it rather narrow. He tried to back down and discovered he didn't like that either. He tried to turn around again, lost his balance and fell off, landing with a very loud crash on the ground where he broke his armored neck and died.
Everyone for miles around heard the mighty crash. It was just as if you struck a great hollow tree with the biggest stick you could find.
***
The Commodore poked at the campfire, sending a burst of sparks swirling up into the darkness. "Nicely told, lad," he said, "though exactly what kind of socio-political nonsense the twins will be able to root out of it, I'm sure I can't imagine. And it seems to have failed in its primary mission, in that it hasn't put anyone to sleep. Now if it's tales you want, let me tell you about the time I encountered a god."
The twins shifted uneasily. "Oh, have you fellows heard this before?" the Commodore asked innocently. "Surely you won't mind if I tell it just once more for the edification of the two new members of our little troop? It was one of those rare and strange encounters which will someday enable philosophers to illuminate the theological structure of the universe. I call it Odin at the Bar."
Erol reached out and switched off the recorder, then clapped a hand on each side of his head where most humans had ears and burrowed down into his bedroll. The Commodore ignored him.
"The far Antares are a seedy bunch of dim stars out beyond the edge of nowhere," he began. "Compared to them, this forsaken dustbin is the center of the Milky Way.
"Their
The animals looked at the horse. Then they looked at the King of the Cats who was trying to appear nonchalant. Then they looked at the horse again and all shook their heads. "I thought I heard something like the sighing of the breeze in the topmost branches of the trees," said a little bird, "but I'm not sure."
The horse was amazed. "But this is of little use to me," he said to the King of the Cats, "for I am too big and heavy to walk about on tree branches."
"Nonsense," smiled the King of the Cats. "They're much stronger than they look. All it takes is a little practice. You'll soon get used to it and then you'll be able to gallop through the forest as quickly and silently as I do."
Then a look of concern crossed the face of the King of the Cats. "Why," he said nervously, "since you are so big and strong, you may even be able to run faster through the treetops than I."
The horse smiled reassuringly. "Oh, I doubt that I should ever become as quick and as good at it as you. Where do I start?"
"Well," said the King of the Cats, "if you really insist on doing this, I suppose you might go over to where this high root enters the ground and walk up toward me."
The horse walked around to where the wide arched root entered the ground and stepped up onto it. He stomped on it with his hoof and looked around. All the forest creatures tried to look as if they hadn't heard anything. The horse took a few more steps. The root was wide and flat where it entered the ground though it became narrower as it approached the tree, it was still more than strong enough to support his weight. He continued carefully on, higher and higher.
The King of the Cats backed up along the high root as the horse advanced toward him until he was right up against the trunk of the tree.
"That was easy enough," said the horse. "Now what do I do?"
The King of the Cats turned and looked up at the tree trunk. "The branches are too high on this tree. Why don't you back down and we will find one where they are easier to get to?"
The horse looked around him, at the nearest branches high above and at the ground far below. "Horses do not like to back up," he said.
"Well, you could try to turn around," said the King of the Cats, "though it is rather narrow."
The horse tried to turn around and found it rather narrow. He tried to back down and discovered he didn't like that either. He tried to turn around again, lost his balance and fell off, landing with a very loud crash on the ground where he broke his armored neck and died.
Everyone for miles around heard the mighty crash. It was just as if you struck a great hollow tree with the biggest stick you could find.
***
The Commodore poked at the campfire, sending a burst of sparks swirling up into the darkness. "Nicely told, lad," he said, "though exactly what kind of socio-political nonsense the twins will be able to root out of it, I'm sure I can't imagine. And it seems to have failed in its primary mission, in that it hasn't put anyone to sleep. Now if it's tales you want, let me tell you about the time I encountered a god."
The twins shifted uneasily. "Oh, have you fellows heard this before?" the Commodore asked innocently. "Surely you won't mind if I tell it just once more for the edification of the two new members of our little troop? It was one of those rare and strange encounters which will someday enable philosophers to illuminate the theological structure of the universe. I call it Odin at the Bar."
Erol reached out and switched off the recorder, then clapped a hand on each side of his head where most humans had ears and burrowed down into his bedroll. The Commodore ignored him.
"The far Antares are a seedy bunch of dim stars out beyond the edge of nowhere," he began. "Compared to them, this forsaken dustbin is the center of the Milky Way.
"Their
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