CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TOPIARY STEPPE

The morning was fresh, and marching along with a cute girl was pleasant. The forest—which had looked so grim and dangerous the night before—now looked as friendly and placid as a forest exhibit in a museum. Sunlight poured between the trees, small birds chittered as they flew about their business, and flowers perfumed the crisp air. (Albert was disappointed that none of the flowers talked.) Albert felt vigorous and invulnerable, and not even the knowledge that the feelings couldn’t possibly last dampened his mood.

“So,” Albert asked, “what are you going to do with the thing if we find it?” The fact that they had something to discuss made conversing easier for Albert, who had never been good with girls.

For a long time Alice didn’t say anything and Albert thought she was ignoring him as she had when he asked where she got the map. “The stories are a little vague,” Alice replied at last. “But magic objects in caves generally have something to do with great wealth.”

“You can have all the wealth,” Albert said. “I just want to go home.”

“As long as you can do it in one wish.”

“Yeah,” Albert said. “I guess magic wishes usually come in threes, don’t they?”

“Usually,” Alice allowed. “So, where’s home?” she asked.

“The Valley of Enchantment, a tourist camp in Redwood National Forest.”

“Never heard of any of those places.”

“Nobody around here has.” And then, without even deciding to do so, Albert told her his story, starting with his angry departure from the Site.

She was a good listener, and when he was done he felt a little better, as if he’d made some progress after all. He would find his way home eventually. All he had to do was keep moving.

“That’s quite a story,” Alice said.

“It’s all true.”

“I’m sure it is,” Alice said in a tone that suggested she was sure of no such thing. “What makes you think the thing in the snark cave will send you or take you home?”

The mood of invulnerability was gone a lot sooner than he had expected or desired. “Because basically, I got nothing else,” he said sadly.

“Buck up, sport. It might work.”

They marched for a long time without saying anything, each occupied with personal thoughts.

They entered the foothills of what the map called the Tumbley Mountains, and by mid-day they emerged onto a balcony made of yellow rock high over a grassy field that disappeared into a smudge of purple haze at the horizon. Immediately below them and all around the edge of the field as far as he could see, was more dense forest.

Alice unfolded her map and studied it. “The Topiary Steppe,” she said.

Albert looked over her shoulder. “It’s one of those Manxome Foe places,” he pointed out.

Alice squinted at the large open space. “Once you’re away from those trees, I don’t see any place a monster might hide,” she said.

“Neither do I,” Albert agreed. “Is that map any good? I mean, can we trust it?”

“We can unless you have a better idea.”

Albert didn’t like her superior attitude, but since he did not have a better idea, he just walked off a few paces and stared out at the great expanse of green carpet. “Let’s eat here, where there’s some shade at least,” he suggested.

“Suits me,” Alice said, and they sat on the warm yellow rocks having a small picnic. The muffinks were dry but filling, and tasted good. Albert and Alice were both glad they had the canteens of water.

When they were done, they brushed off their hands, packed up, and scrambled over the balcony wall; they climbed down the side of the jumbled mountain of yellow rocks to the forest where they saw a line of borogoves strutting along. Soon Albert and Alice came to the edge of the Topiary Steppe. Albert was not eager to leave the cool shade of the forest, but what else could he do? He followed Alice into the sunshine.

The grass on the steppe grew thick and stiff, and came up barely to their ankles. Now that they were out on the flats, Albert could see that the carpet was not all the same, as it had appeared from the balcony, but made up of individual blades of darker and lighter grass.

They had not gone far when Albert felt a tremor in the ground. “Do you feel that?” he called.

“Feel what?” Alice asked, continuing to march along.

“The ground is shaking,” Albert called.

Alice stopped and looked back at him. A few seconds later she could no longer ignore the vibration. She cried out and sat down hard on the ground. “Earthquake,” she said, looking around worriedly. There was no place to run, of course, but at least there was nothing around that could fall on them.

Two creatures burst out of the grass—or maybe the grass itself rose up before them, taking the form of two fat little men who looked exactly alike. The grass seemed to cover them—their faces, their hands, every part of them—as it would cover a grassy hill. The pattern of the grass suggested that they were wearing bib overalls and baseball caps. Each cap said Tweedle Gardens on it; one man had Dum sewed onto his overalls, and the other had Dee. One foot of each man attached him to the earth by a ropey trunk no thicker than his ankle. Except for the fact that they seemed to be plants, they were very much like the twin Tweedle brothers that the other Alice had met in Through the Looking-Glass.