Эрин Хантер - Legends of the Clans

He ran around behind it. The edge of the stone was sticking up from the earth. If I can get something underneath on this side, maybe I can get it to start rolling. Thunderstar looked around. A stick, maybe .

He found a thick, long branch beneath a nearby tree and wedged one end beneath the stone. This would be easier if I wasn’t alone, he thought, with a pang of sorrow. Would he miss Lightning Tail at every turn from now on? Thunderstar threw his weight against the far end of the branch. Gradually, the stone tipped farther and farther forward.

At last it fell, leaving a gaping muddy pit behind, and began to roll down the hill. Excited, Thunderstar jumped over the pit to watch the stone’s progress. The hill was steep here, and the stone picked up speed as it rolled toward the Twoleg dwelling.

It was working! Thunderstar began to run after the stone as it tumbled. Could it be this easy?

But the stone must have hit a branch or rock, because it veered off course suddenly. Wobbling, it rolled a bit farther, then fell over with a thump.

No! Thunderstar ran to the stone. It had fallen on its side, its muddy edge now up in the air. There was no space to get a stick under it here, and even if he could start it rolling again, its path would no longer take it toward the hole in the fence. He put his paws on the stone, testing its weight, but he couldn’t shift it at all, not even with all his strength.

I have to think of something else. Keeping low, Thunderstar approached the strange Twolegplace from downwind. With luck, the dogs wouldn’t see him coming.

They weren’t eating anymore. They were sprawled in the sunshine between the dead monsters. Thunderstar looked at them with fear and hatred. The largest one’s eyes were closed, while one of the others was beating its stubby tail in a steady rhythm against the ground. They were peaceful now, enjoying the sun’s warmth while Lightning Tail was dead. Thunderstar shut his eyes for a moment as another wave of sorrow washed over him.

A Twoleg yowled something, sharp and angry, and Thunderstar’s eyes shot open. Had it spotted him? No, he could see that the door to the Twoleg den was open, but the Twolegs must be inside. There was no sign of them among the monsters.

They were unpleasant Twolegs, Thunderstar thought, and he was almost sure they had no idea the dogs could sneak out through the fence whenever they wanted. If the dogs were supposed to guard the dead monsters, the Twolegs wouldn’t want them wandering off.

If the Twolegs had patrolled their territory properly, they would have seen the hole, but Thunderstar had always heard that Twolegs were lazy and unobservant. But what if he could show the Twolegs the hole?

Thunderstar realized what he would have to do. Standing up, he swallowed hard and began to walk closer to the Twolegplace. His paws were heavy and reluctant. These dogs had already killed him once.

Stopping outside the barrier, Thunderstar put a paw against the silver strands. They had sharp barbs on them like thorns, but he saw that he could clamber up the fence without touching those, if he was careful. What if the dogs saw him before he’d done what he had to do? He would have to be fast.

He walked to another part of the fence, closer to the door of the Twoleg den. The closer he was to the Twolegs when he started, the better. As he slipped one paw onto a strand, he was already looking for another smooth spot. He climbed, at first hesitantly, then more quickly as he realized the silver thorns appeared in a pattern, each the same distance away from the others. He kept his ears pricked: Surely the dogs would bark if they spotted him.

Thunderstar reached the top and balanced for a moment on the topmost strand, which swayed beneath his feet. The door to the Twoleg den was straight ahead of him. The dogs were farther away, and the bodies of several monsters lay between them and Thunderstar. This might work. He took a deep breath and leaped down into the place of the dead monsters.

Landing lightly just in front of the open Twoleg door, Thunderstar wrinkled his nose in disgust at the scents that surrounded him: the strange smell of Twolegs, the rank smell of the dogs. And over everything, the reek of Thunderpaths. It must come from the dead monsters, he thought, and it was so strong here that the dogs carried the scent with them wherever they went.

He could hear the Twolegs moving about inside their den. Bracing himself, Thunderstar opened his mouth and let out the loudest yowl he could. He had to get their attention.

There was a crash as something fell inside the Twoleg place, then a startled voice. Almost at the same time, there was a chorus of angry barks. Still yowling, Thunderstar took off, running away from the dogs, around the Twoleg den.

Please let the Twolegs come out to see what’s happening. Please let them care what the dogs do.

He could hear Twoleg footsteps and excited voices. They must be coming out. But he could hear the snarling dogs much closer, their paw steps getting louder. Thunderstar whipped around another corner of the Twoleg dwelling and leaped up onto a dead monster.

It was hard and surprisingly hot under his paws. What if it’s not dead? But no, it was completely still beneath him; the body must simply have soaked up the warmth of the sun.

Paws scrabbled against one end of the dead monster as the largest dog tried to haul himself up onto it. Thunderstar risked a glance over his shoulder. The Twolegs were running around the corner, not far away. Now was his chance. Thunderstar leaped from the back of the monster and shot toward the hole in the fence.

It was wide enough for him to pass through easily, but as he sped through it, something scratched his shoulder. One of the brambles Lightning Tail and I put there, he realized with another pang of sorrow. He kept running, expecting at every moment to feel fangs ripping through his pelt.

But as he streaked up the hill, he realized that he couldn’t hear the dogs behind him. And he was only a few tail-lengths from the safety of the trees now. He was going to make it. With a long leap, he dug his claws into the trunk of a tall ash tree and scrambled up to the highest branch that would support his weight.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he was gasping for breath, but he was safe for now. Climbing farther out onto the branch, he looked back at the Twolegplace.

The dogs had not chased him through the hole. Instead, the Twolegs were each holding on to two dogs’ collars as they spoke, pointing at the hole. After a while, one of the Twolegs spoke sternly to the dogs until they were all sitting; then he went into the Twoleg den and came back out with a new length of silver strands. With many harsh noises, he began to fit it across the hole.

It worked, Thunderstar thought, dizzy with relief. The Twolegs hadn’t known the dogs were getting out through the hole in the fence, and now that Thunderstar had shown them, they were fixing the hole.

If this had happened yesterday, he would have been happy about it, but right now he could only feel surprise at his success and a sort of grim satisfaction. He had done what he and Lightning Tail had set out to do. Thunder Clan would be safe.

Jumping down from the tree, Thunderstar padded back toward where his friend was waiting for him.

Nothing had disturbed the place where Lightning Tail lay. Thunderstar brushed the long grass away from his friend’s body and looked down at him.

“It’s done,” he said softly. “We protected our Clan.”

There was a spot near the roots of an oak tree where sun shone through the branches and warmed the ground. Lightning Tail had always liked to bask in the sun. Thunderstar began to dig.