TRAVEL IS MUCH slower when you don’t have a mammoth, but we did manage to get down the mountainside before dark. The snow had not yet reached the base of the mountain, and Echo ran for her village as I raced to pick up Stony and Hamhock.
“What happened here?” I cried, seeing both boys sprawled on the floor of the red cavern.
“Bonehead,” said Hamhock, sitting up against the wall and gingerly rubbing his backside.
Stony sat up and grunted in agreement. He had a nasty bruise around his unibrow.
“I can’t believe this!” I shouted. “Boulder promised they’d leave us alone if we left the village.”
“But me didn’t,” said Bonehead, suddenly darkening the entrance. He was still gripping the club my father had given me.
“What do you want from us?” I cried.
He grinned and pointed out of the cave. Behind him, Boulder was leading the men of the Macrauchenia Rider Council toward us.
I strode out of the cave and waved at the councilmen. “I’m glad you’re all here,” I declared. “I’ve got some really important news, and—”
I stopped talking and looked around. They were all eyeing me suspiciously.
“What?” I asked.
Boulder stepped forward. “You tell us, Loony Lug.”
“Loony …? What? Right now—as we squabble like dodos—there are giant cats making their way toward our village.”
A few councilmen snickered.
I swallowed my pride and continued. “There are all kinds of beasts migrating this way, following the cold. There’s a great storm of white flakes coming.”
“Uh-oh,” said Boulder to the councilmen, “Loony Lug is at it again!”
The laughter spread.
“Climb the mountain and see for yourselves!” I said.
The laughs turned to gasps.
“So,” said Boulder, looming over me, “you broke our law and climbed our sacred mountain!”
I took a deep breath. “Why is only the mountain sacred?” I asked.
Boulder’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“Why isn’t the ground we’re standing on sacred too? We couldn’t live without it.”
“What are you babbling about, Loony?”
“I’m saying that everything in our jungle is sacred, including us, and we need to protect ourselves before it’s too late. The giant cat that attacked Bugeyes said that if—” I stopped again. I could see that no one believed a word I was saying.
Boulder pointed at the drawing of Smilus attacking Bugeyes. “Did the ‘giant cat’ make this?” he asked sarcastically.
“No,” I said. “Woolly did.”
“Woolly?” The Big Man sneered. “And did Woolly paint your secret art cave?” he asked, pointing at the fingerlike outcropping in the distance.
I stared at him, speechless. I had never told anyone about my art cave. How did Boulder know?
Then I saw Bonehead’s smug little smile. “Me saw Little Slug crawl in,” he said. “Me follow.”
“I thought I heard a rat,” I said.
“Me tell everyone,” he said, his smile growing.
From the looks on the men’s faces, I had a feeling that they had gone in and seen all my paintings—each one a violation of clan law. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
But instead of feeling small and ashamed, I remembered how the painting of my family had started my friendship with Woolly. And how the mammoth’s last drawing had revealed Bugeyes’s attacker. I thought about everything art had taught me—observation, focus, persistence, even courage. How creating something new with my hands had always sent shivers down my spine. I opened my eyes and looked back at the men. “I’m a cave painter,” I said. “And no law is going to change that.”
They stared at me in silence.
“And no law,” I continued, “should prevent us from joining together to try to survive the big changes coming.”
Frogface stepped forward from the group of councilmen. “If what you’re saying were true, we would have to change everything,” he said.
“So you’re obviously nuts!” he concluded.
“Crazy as Crag!” declared Boulder.
The other councilmen began to nod in agreement.
Then Bonehead laughed at something behind me. I turned and saw a bruised Stony and Hamhock limp out of the red cavern.
“Look!” Bonehead said. “Loony Lug’s big fans! Why them all beat-up, Loony?”
Boulder smirked too, clearly admiring his son’s handiwork.
I turned to my friends. “Let’s go,” I said.
By the time we got to our prearranged meeting spot by the dead tree, Echo was already waiting.
“Please tell me you had more luck than we did,” I said.
She shook her head. “They thought I was a traitor trying to get them to leave their caves so that your clan could take over their territory. One councilman suggested they put me in the Tiny Dark Cave.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “Snortimer?”
She nodded sadly.
“Well, as my mom likes to say, there’s a dingleberry in every bush.”
“Yeah,” said Echo. “Too bad that dingleberry’s my father.”
I stared at her. I remembered Snortimer’s red hair and green eyes and saw a faint resemblance. But that was where the similarity ended. Then I thought about Bonehead and Boulder. I was amazed that someone with a father like Snortimer could turn out like Echo. “Your mom must be really nice,” I said.
“I don’t really remember her,” said Echo. “She died after giving birth to my brother.”
“Oh.” I wanted to give her a hug but found myself staring at my feet instead.
“Anyway,” she said, “I managed to catch a ride before they caught me.” She nodded toward the stupendous snout now emerging from behind the dead tree.
Froggy gave an exultant croak and hopped off Stony’s shoulder onto Big Mumma’s delighted face—showering her with slimy-tongued frog kisses.
“But that’s Boss Hog’s personal boar!” Hamhock piped up.
“Exactly,” said Echo, mounting Big Mumma.
“Hold on a moment,” I said. “What’s your plan?”
Echo arched an eyebrow and put a finger to her lips.
Suddenly, I too heard the very low rumble of hoofbeats.
“Please don’t tell me that’s all the Boar Riders coming for you,” I muttered.
“Okay, I won’t,” she said. “But we should probably get going.”