Эрин Хантер - Outcast

Jaypaw sniffed curiously at the root Stoneteller pushed against his paws. “I’ve never come across this before. What did you call it?”

“Tormentil,” Stoneteller replied. “Good for all wounds and for poison.”

“Hey, do you mind?” Gray’s voice, tight with pain, came from just beside Jaypaw. “Talk about it afterward, okay?”

“Okay.” Jaypaw sighed. “Have you given the wound a good lick?”

“No…” Gray sounded startled, as if the thought of licking his own wound had never occurred to him.

“Then do it,” Jaypaw snapped. “What’s the good of putting a poultice on a load of drying blood and messy fur?”

He crouched down to chew up the tormentil, hearing the steady rasp of Gray’s tongue. The root had a strong aromatic scent and a sharp taste.

“We use wintergreen, too,” Stoneteller meowed as he worked. “And tansy. Have you heard of those?”

Jaypaw spat out the last of the chewed-up root and scooped up a pawful to put on Gray’s wound. “We have tansy, but mostly for coughs. Right, Gray, is that wound clean now?”

“Yes, it’s okay,” the prey-hunter replied.

“About time,” Jaypaw muttered. “It’s like dealing with kits!”

“Hey, calm down.” Hollypaw pushed her muzzle into Jaypaw’s neck fur. “Tell me what to do. I’ve come to help.”

“The Tribe cats need to start helping themselves,” Jaypaw snapped at her, then felt sorry for being sharp. Hollypaw didn’t know that the Tribe’s ancestors had given up on them, and he didn’t want to tell her. But he knew that if the Tribe cats didn’t start helping themselves, there was no hope left for them.

Once the injured cats had been treated and were resting in their sleeping hollows, Stoneteller padded wearily toward the mouth of the cave. He beckoned with his tail for Brambleclaw to join him, and Lionpaw followed, eager to hear what their next move would be.

The light that came through the waterfall was dim and gray. Stoneteller sat down, a small, dark figure in the midst of the watery radiance, and tucked his paws underneath him.

“The Tribe cannot survive here,” he sighed, his voice almost drowned out by the pounding of the water. “We must leave the mountains and find a home somewhere else.”

Brambleclaw’s eyes widened in dismay. “That’s your decision to make, Stoneteller, but is it wise? It’s dangerous for a large group of cats to move around together. The Clans lost cats on the Great Journey. Besides, where would you go?”

Stoneteller shook his head; he had no answer to that question.

Maybe they could come to the lake with us , Lionpaw thought. But there are too many to join one Clan. They would have to split up, and they wouldn’t like that. Anyway, the Clans would never accept them .

“Even if you found a new home,” Brambleclaw went on, “you would have to learn new ways of living, new hunting techniques. It would be better to find a way of surviving here, where you belong.”

Stoneteller turned his head to look up at the dark tabby.

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“Give the border patrols a try,” Brambleclaw meowed.

“Patrols?” Stoneteller’s voice was disapproving. “Spend all our time scrambling over rocks?”

“Yes, it’s hard,” Brambleclaw admitted, an edge of annoyance in his voice. “But your cats are used to moving around in this terrain. That gives you a big advantage over the intruders.”

The Healer blinked, his eyes on the eternally falling water.

After several heartbeats, he asked, “Are you saying that the Tribe must restrict itself to one area?”

“It would be a big area,” Brambleclaw promised. “Plenty of space for you to support yourselves. And isn’t keeping part of your territory better than losing it all?” When Stoneteller didn’t respond, he added, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself, to make sure you’ll have enough?”

“The Healer does not leave the cave, except for ceremonies above the waterfall,” Stoneteller responded. “That is the will of the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”

Brambleclaw looked frustrated, the tip of his tail twitching back and forth. Lionpaw was afraid he was going to give up the argument.

Then Stoneteller spoke again. “But perhaps the time is right to break with some of our traditions, so that we can preserve the rest. I will come with you.”

“Great!” Brambleclaw’s tail went straight up. “I’ll get a patrol together right away. Lionpaw, you can come.” He flicked his tail at him as he raced back into the main part of the cave.

Lionpaw wasn’t sure he wanted to clamber all the way around the territory again. His paws were still sore from the previous day. But he did want to help establish the border and to see what Stoneteller’s reaction would be. He waited beside the Healer until Brambleclaw returned. Talon, Breezepaw, and Pebble were with him; Crowfeather followed a little way behind with Crag, Night, and a couple of the other Tribe to-bes.

“Crowfeather will take his patrol in one direction, and we’ll take the other,” Brambleclaw meowed to Stoneteller.

“That way, we can get around the whole territory by nightfall.

We won’t try to explore every corner, just find landmarks along the way so that we all know where the border is.”

Stoneteller nodded. “Very well.”

He let Brambleclaw take the lead along the Path of Rushing Water and out into the open. Lionpaw paused briefly before leaping from the rocks to the flat ground around the pool. The sky was covered with gray clouds, so low that they rested on the mountain peaks. The air was heavy, with a taste of rain to come. The blue skies and warm sun of greenleaf could have been moons away.

Crowfeather’s patrol climbed the path beside the waterfall and vanished, while Brambleclaw led his cats over the rocks opposite, the same route they had followed the day before.

He set a brisk pace until they reached the twisted spike of rock that Lionpaw had picked out as the first border marker.

“We’ll set a scent marker here,” Brambleclaw announced.

“Lionpaw, would you like to demonstrate?”

“Shouldn’t it be Tribe scent?” Talon asked.

“Of course,” mewed Brambleclaw. “You and Pebble can do the rest, once Lionpaw has shown you how.”

The three Tribe cats glanced at one another. Lionpaw could see that they weren’t sure that marking a border would make any difference to the aggressive intruders. He couldn’t help agreeing; scent markers were useless unless they were reinforced with teeth and claws when it was needed.

“I don’t know why we bother,” Breezepaw muttered in his ear. “They just don’t think like Clan cats. They have no idea how to make a border work.”

When Lionpaw had set the marker the patrol continued along the ridge to the head of the valley with the stream, and then on across the plateau. Brambleclaw chose a stack of loose rocks as another vantage point for a marker. Water dripped over them from a narrow crack, leaving them slick and green with a thin covering of moss.

“What use is this in our territory?” Stoneteller objected, as Talon prepared to set the marker. “These rocks are always so wet that no prey can survive here.”

“That’s not the point,” Brambleclaw explained. “Markers need to be seen and easily identified. It’s great if they’re use-ful as well, but they don’t need to be.”

Stoneteller gave a doubtful snort but didn’t object anymore as Talon set the marker. He was silent as they continued around the pool where they had clashed with the three intruders and along the narrow valley where the young trespassers had ambushed them.