Эрин Хантер - Outcast

“The Tribe doesn’t have to give in so easily,” he insisted.

“They must fight to defend themselves.”

Two of the cats who bore recent wounds rose from their places and padded around the pool until they stood in front of Jaypaw. “We died in battle,” the first of them mewed, glancing down at the deep slashes along his side. “No more blood must be spilled. The Tribe does not believe in fighting.”

Jaypaw twitched his tail. “But the trespassers do. My Clanmates will help the Tribe cats, whether they want it or not.”

The other wounded cat took a pace forward, his neck fur bristling. “The only way to do that is to make the Tribe more like a Clan. And that is not what they want. It is not the way of the Tribe to fight and kill other cats.”

“Things change,” Jaypaw pointed out with a flick of his ears.

“Not always for the better,” the spirit cat retorted.

The words echoed in Jaypaw’s ears. A mist seemed to be rising from the pool, swirling around him until he couldn’t see the Tribe of Endless Hunting any longer. The mist gradually grew darker, until Jaypaw realized he was back in the cave, with Hollypaw nudging him awake.

“Come on,” she urged him. “Stoneteller has called a meeting. All the cats are gathering in the middle of the cave.”

Jaypaw scrambled groggily to his paws. The hollow in the mountains and the pool surrounded by shining cats seemed more real to him than this cave.

“Okay, keep your fur on,” he grumbled. “I’m coming.”

Tracking Hollypaw and Lionpaw by their scent, he followed them out of the sleeping hollow and across the floor of the cave. They joined the other Clan cats and found a place to sit beside them. Jaypaw shifted uncomfortably on the cold stone, the murmur of voices, Clan and Tribe, in his ears.

Suddenly the voices grew quiet. Jaypaw imagined the skinny old cat he had seen in his dreams appearing in front of the cats, perhaps leaping onto the boulder from where he had banished Stormfur. So this is it , he thought. We’re going to be made outcasts, too. I don’t suppose they’ll feed us before they throw us out, either .

“Cats of the Tribe of Rushing Water,” Stoneteller began.

“Last night I read the signs in water and starlight, and the Tribe of Endless Hunting spoke to me. They do not want us to be driven out of our mountain home, so I have decided to let the Clan cats help us.”

Jaypaw felt his mouth drop open. Stoneteller was lying!

That wasn’t what the Tribe of Endless Hunting had said at all. Stoneteller must have changed his own mind overnight, and decided to ignore his ancestors.

A babble of comment had broken out as soon as Stoneteller finished speaking. Jaypaw could hear some protests, but most cats sounded eager to hear what the Clan cats would suggest. Just as he suspected, the Tribe cats did whatever Stoneteller said. Yesterday he hadn’t wanted the Clan cats to stay, so neither did his Tribe, and today he said they should accept their help. Didn’t these cats ever think for themselves?

“Silence!” Stoneteller raised his voice. “We will listen to what Brambleclaw has to say.”

There was a brief pause; Jaypaw heard his father’s paw steps as he emerged from the group of cats and went to stand beside Stoneteller.

“What should we do first?” the Tribe’s Healer asked him.

“Assess the situation.” Brambleclaw’s tone was crisp and positive; Jaypaw knew that his father would have worked out what he would say long before. “We need to know what the real threat is. Where are these trespassers taking prey?

Where are they clashing with the Tribe? And we must discover where they’ve made their camp.”

“We should work out how much territory the Tribe needs to survive, too,” Tawnypelt called out from somewhere near Jaypaw.

“That’s right,” Stormfur put in, his voice deep but tense with excitement. “We can’t sit here and wait to be attacked.

We should establish borders and make sure they’re properly defended.”

An eager chorus broke out again, but a new voice cut across it. “Wait.”

As the noise died down, Brambleclaw meowed, “Yes, Crag.

What do you want to say?”

“We have known each other a long time, Brambleclaw,” the new speaker began. “I was the first Tribe cat you met when you dragged yourselves out of the pool, all those moons ago. I’m a cave-guard, and I fought in the great battle beside Stormfur. No cat can say that I’m afraid to fight. But I’m telling you now that you’re wrong.”

“Why?” Even in the single word, Jaypaw could tell how much respect his father felt for this cat.

“Because you’re trying to turn us into a Clan,” Crag replied. “We’re not. We are the Tribe.”

“But this is the only way to survive!” Brambleclaw insisted.

“You’ve never had to share your hunting grounds with other cats before. You can’t live here like prisoners, afraid to venture out in search of food.”

“That’s right!” some cat called. “We need our own territory.”

“We need to defend it!” another added.

“But think what we risk losing.” Crag’s strong meow rose above the voices of his Tribe. “All our traditions, everything that makes us who we are. Instead, we’ll spend all our time running around trying to remember which rocks belong to us.”

“What do you think?” Hollypaw whispered as the argument rumbled on above their heads.

“Brambleclaw’s right,” Lionpaw asserted without hesitation. “What choice do they have?”

“But then, Crag’s right, too.” Hollypaw sounded uncertain.

“How would we like it if cats came into our territory and started telling us to do everything differently?”

“We’re not starving to death,” Lionpaw pointed out.

“What’s the matter, Hollypaw? On the way here you were planning how to organize the Tribe like a Clan.”

“I know. But it’s different when you see how they do things.” Hollypaw’s worry soaked into Jaypaw’s fur like rain.

“What about you, Jaypaw?” she prompted. “Do you think the Tribe should give up all its traditions because of these trespassing cats?”

Jaypaw shrugged. “It’s not our decision. They’re not our traditions.”

He heard a hiss of annoyance from Hollypaw, as if she’d expected him to back her up. But the problem was more complicated than she or Lionpaw understood. Jaypaw was reluctant to talk about his dream. He had always relished the extra knowledge he gained through his connection with StarClan, but now he was thoroughly unnerved, knowing that the Tribe of Endless Hunting did not want the Tribe to become a Clan.

He remembered the feelings of shame he had picked up by the pool, the regret of the Tribe of Endless Hunting that they had failed their descendants, that they had not found a place of safety for the cats who looked to them for protection. He remembered their belief that the mountains had betrayed them.

Then something struck him. If the Tribe had tried to find a place of safety in the mountains, that meant they must have come from somewhere else—somewhere that was no longer safe.

So where did they come from? And what brought them here in the first place?

Lionpaw watched as the Tribe cats broke up into small, quarrelsome groups.

They might as well save their breath , he thought. Stoneteller has made up his mind, and now Brambleclaw’s in charge.

Even so, he was impressed by Crag’s courage in speaking up and glad of the respect he could see between the cave-guard and his father. Crag was a strong, brave cat, and with the right training he would make a great warrior.