CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2
Now, having moved much closer, there was another set of thumps, in which he heard a distinct scuffle of some kind.
He followed further in the sparse trees, much slower toward what now distinctly contained a voice as well. It was excited. There, as the light waned through the sparseness of the trees was a freshly kicked burrower’s crater, and both the turbulence and a man’s voice were involved within it. Hugly stepped up the bank, and while peering in, a number of things were seen by him within a mere few seconds…
There, two thirds up on the interior of the opposite bank of a dirt bowl, laying on his side, restricted by heavy shoulder and belly packs, was a bald-top man with a short graying beard, who was laughing in chirps, while frantically clamoring to reach the top of the berm.
Standing motionless down in the small bottom of this bowl was a young armored burrowing dragon with a small pointed head. Its wide and flat body was supported by stubby spike-tipped legs that were closer front-to-back, than they were side-to-side. Its rear body cantilevered off and ended in a bony-bladed tail, clearly for use in digging and as a fifth leg.
The dragon was near the bottom and facing away, as the man frantically tried to pull himself out of the crater with his hands, but with little movement to his legs. Suddenly, the gray-scaled dragon, with a wave of its tail, jerked its spread-toed feet forward. Staggering like a metronome, it rapidly ran up the bank in a corkscrew, throwing leaves and other forest-floor debris up into the air on its route.
It passed not far below Hugly in the turn, with its oddly grinning lips and slotted black eyes that did not see him. Though it very well may have felt his feet on the earth as he approached. It rounded the sloping wall and jerked itself, crashing into the man. And upon passing him and sliding to a stop, it lifted its legs and belly-slid down the slope to the bottom, where it jacked itself back onto its feet and stood facing away again. Its thick, wet, pink tongue bulged out and tackily wiped its mouth. Then pinching, it was pulled back in, leaving a dollop of soil and sticky goo to drop on the ground.
The young barbless dragon, which was only slightly larger than the man, had used its tail in the attack, hitting its desperate prey in the legs and spinning him about on the slope. The attempt was to cause the man to lose his scamper and fall to the bottom of the crater, where the dragon had a freshly dug hole in the black soil. The man found a short stick from where he now rested, and stabbing into the dirt, he turned himself upward toward the berm top and continued his hindered escape attempt. He was laughing and had been laughing the whole time.
Seeing all of this, Hugly ran about the half circumference of the crater and doffed his bag and pack, and then over the opposite berm, he tack-kneed himself quickly down to the man, reaching him just at the moment the dragon began stamping itself into an ascending spiral again.
The man’s face was fully smiling as he looked into Hugly’s, which was all of concern. Knowing what was coming, Hugly stepped himself to the man’s lower on the impact side. He planted an elbow and knee in the dirt and took the man’s hand.
The twilight quickly faded in this moment, and Hugly could not see the dragon’s outline—only the faint flashes in his skewed peering, as it wound its way up. Hugly quickly calculated the impact, braced himself, and kicked early in the monster’s arrival. His gummed sole landed squarely on the dragon’s rocklike, right front leg, which was so stiff to its body that it was like kicking a tree stump.
The kick did not affect its locomotion at all though. However, combined with gravity on the slope, it did alter the dragon’s direction, so that he had moved it wholly downhill a scant. Its tail lash barely glanced off of Hugly’s out-thrust leg, before the dragon mechanically stopped in the turn, cocked up its legs, and belly-slid to the bottom again. The man was still laughing.
Hugly went uphill and grabbed the man by his shoulder straps. With his legs and the man’s hands, they overcame the sloping dirt that gave-way beneath them. They made the peak of the berm before the dragon could begin its next assault.
Rolling off, small things of the man’s effects spilled from his belly pack. Still laughing somewhat, the man began thanking Hugly who was now picking things up and putting them quickly into the man’s hands.
With its prey gone from the arena, the dragon now had nothing to attack, and it likely returned to its lair to await another who would not be so fortunate.
“I thought I might have been done today. Thank you for rescuing me,” the man said gratefully.
“You can’t walk?” Hugly asked.
“By faith, it… my legs,” the man replied, with his breath heavy.
Hugly couldn’t see, but knew he was smiling. He began examining the man’s legs through his trousers.
“No,” the man said, “it hit me. I can’t feel my legs.”
Hugly paused a moment and then stood up and quickly trotted off as the twinkling sky began to reveal itself. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of long and straight sticks that he began to tie in tandem to the wooden frame of the man’s belly pack.
The man was looking at the shape of Hugly’s face in the starlight. The proud bones shined.
“I’m Truck,” he offered.
Hugly stopped and rubbed his fingers over his hands a moment before continuing his work. Once fastened, Hugly put Truck’s hands on the top of the sticks, and carefully he lifted him until he was standing. His legs were beneath him, but his weight came from his chest and hands, then down the sticks to the ground. Hugly donned his own belly bag and put his backpack atop. He was looking Truck over in the dim.
Truck told him, “I can’t walk like this.”
A crow gargled in the distance.
“I know,” said Hugly, as he faced away from Truck, reached the sides of his own rib cage, and wrapped his thumbs on the sticks, pinning Truck to his back. Leaning forward, much of Truck’s weight was now upon him, but for a slight of it, through the sticks resting on the ground.
Soon they were on the move, as Hugly’s shortened steps were sure and steady. Once out of the trees, they moved smoothly, albeit slowly, but they were moving right along.
“Hugly,” he felt right to say, and Truck began to laugh delightedly over Hugly’s shoulder.
Over the rough paths, Hugly carried the man. Tree roots and rocks were frequently a nuisance that slowed them. Hugly never stopped, however. He simply rerouted to go off the paths or to press through and over.
After a half-hour or so, they came to a tall scrub cluster that cut off the sky before them, where even the best eyes would not be able to find their way in the black. Hugly looked about for any onlookers. He leaned the man fully onto his back and padded slowly into the mess of branches, where shortly this travel grew even more difficult. He had to weave their way, until he was laying Truck down on his sticks and dragging him through the toughest untrod thickness.
Finally reaching a cubby of branch-walls, Hugly laid the man on his belly pack and got down on all fours in the dark, feeling the extent and sniffing as he went to learn clearly what it might mean to stay there.
“We’re stopped,” Hugly said.
“Good,” said Truck. “I’ve had to pee for the longest.”
After some adjustment, Hugly disappeared the way they’d come, returning after a long while with his arms widely filled with something that he began somehow pasting to the interior walls. Hugly departed a second time and returned after another longer while with his arms full again. Truck wondered how he was able to return to the same location in the lack of light. He could see only the faintest indications of his surrounding as Hugly was busy before him clearing the cubby floor.
Hugly powdered the dry fall leaves he’d brought and added root sap until he had shaped them into a large conical cake with its broad end up. Then came the sound of a smooth rubbing, where a tiny glow was made that Hugly nurtured and placed in an opening at the base of the cone. The sweet smell of burning resin came to Truck’s nose. As the small base began to glow, there came a low light and comforting warmth. It was not evenly taking, so Hugly stoked and fed the glow until it burned fully around in a ring from within.
Truck could now see the green leaves that roughly formed a dome, and he marveled at all Hugly had accomplished in the dark. The slow-burning cone radiated and gave off no smoke as its vapor rose up and escaped out a hole in the ceiling.
Truck sat leaning on one arm, and he used the other to unfurl some bedding from his packs, upon which he pulled and wrapped himself until he was somewhat comfortable in an upright sitting position.
Hugly chose a couple of twigs from the cubby’s edge and placed one into Truck’s hand. He then pulled a dibeetle from his bag and put it at the end of a twig, where it grabbed hold with all six legs. Hugly then pulled another and did the same with his own twig. This he outstretched near the cone, and quickly pinned the dibeetle’s shellback to the glowing base, whereupon the bug began wildly kicking and grabbing at the twig.
A broad smile covered Truck’s face, and he almost wanted to do the same. “Thank you, Hugly. But I cannot eat this. I’m a Bone. It’s forbidden.”
Hugly didn’t appear to notice what Truck said, but after a moment, he took the twig from Truck and put the dibeetle back in his bag.
“Not too much,” he instructed, referring to his food. “It’ll pop.” Hugly was looking in a direction, as though he were speaking to someone near Truck’s feet. The hearth glow made Hugly look wide-eyed.
It was apparent to Truck that Hugly was uncomfortable looking directly at someone. If Hugly could be seen, he would not reciprocate. Truck wondered at his young caretaker. He pulled some food from his own pack, and before they ate in silence, Hugly leaned himself in such a way that he was behind the cone, where he prayed in whispers. In the faint glow that lighted their shelter, this is where Hugly stayed.
Truck was slightly startled when the ring had ashened and the whole cone suddenly crunched down in perfect balance, where the glow remained even and slowly ate away.
“Fascinating…” Truck said at this. He decided to breach the silence further and attempt to satisfy some of his curiosity. Gently he spoke. “Can I ask how old you are, Hugly?”
“Ahhn…” Hugly voiced his uncertainty. He had anticipated a conversation was brewing and could tell Truck was often looking directly at him. Feeling a need to preemptively give it a conclusive tone, he rolled over in his cloak to face away. He was particularly uncomfortable conversing with people concerning… just about any subject.
Truck was able to discern all of this. As he would soon go to sleep in the security and comfort provided by his quiet rescuer, Truck rubbed his hands together, arrayed them in the air before him, bowed his head, and began quietly mumbling an earnest prayer of thanks.