Chapter 4

I dropped to the ground as another thing whistled through the air. It hit a branch over my head and dropped to the ground in front of me. It was a stick thing, with feathers on one end and a sharp point on the other. What was it, and how did this strange beast make it fly?

“I got it!” cried a voice. “Let’s see if it’s dead.”

A voice like mine! But this voice made strange high babbling sounds all strung together. The sounds echoed in my brain, somehow reminding me of long ago, of the time before Wolfmother took me into her den. And then something really strange happened.

The sounds began to sort themselves in my mind as if something deep inside me was struggling to make sense of the odd Legwalker noises.

And then suddenly I understood that the creature had tried to hit me with the sharp stick thing. He thought he had killed me.

“You didn’t hit anything,” said a second voice. “You couldn’t hit a train if it was right in front of you!”

“Oh yeah? Then you go check it out if you’re so sure there’s nothing there. I’m telling you, Billy, I heard something big moving around in those bushes. I bet I hit it right through the heart!”

There was a silence. My heart raced. I could almost understand them. It seemed as if I’d heard the sounds they made with their mouths sometime long ago. I felt sure I could understand more if I only had more time to listen and remember.

I understood the other animals who lived in our swamp. They all had their own cries of greeting and warning and fear. But this was different.

It was like some big part of me was waking up after a long sleep. It was wonderful, exciting. But it was scary, too.

“They’re your arrows,” said the one called Billy. His voice sounded shaky. “You go check it out.”

“All right. I’m going.”

One of the creatures began moving through the bushes in my direction. I tensed. What should I do?

I couldn’t let them catch me.

But if I tried to run they’d shoot more of those sharp flying things after me. Besides, I wanted to hear more. I wanted to see them up close. I wanted to know why I had never seen or heard them before.

As the creature stumbled blindly through the undergrowth I crouched, hiding behind a tree. My hand closed over a good-sized rock.

“Yuck!” the boy cried. I heard the sucking sound that meant he’d stepped in a mud hole.

“What was that?” said the other one, Billy. There was fear in the breathy sound of his voice. It calmed me—they were even more scared than I was.

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.” He grunted, pulling his foot out of the mud. “This place gives me the creeps.”

Billy sounded frightened. “I think we better forget about those arrows and get out of here, Paul. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I can’t! They’re brand-new arrows,” said the one called Paul. “My dad just bought them for me.” Hesitant steps crunched toward me again. “It’s probably just a squirrel or something.”

The smell of their fear was thick in the air. But the one called Paul was coming closer. I had to keep him from finding me. I threw back my head and opened my throat, letting a picture of Wolffather Thornclaw grow in my head until I felt I was him.

Then I howled.

“Arrrrroooooooooh!”

When I lowered my head I could hear them crashing and splashing through the wettest bog in this part of the swamp. I stood quickly, hoping for a good look at them. Although they moved slowly, stumbling into mud slicks and holes, tripping over tree roots and snagged by brambles, they were already almost hidden among the trees.

But I could see what I already suspected. They were Legwalkers, like me!

My own legs itched to follow. I wanted to know more. Where had they come from? But I sensed somehow it would be dangerous to get too close to these creatures. Torn between doing what I wanted and doing what I should, I bent to pick up the sharp stick—the ar-row—off the ground.

What a strange weapon! How did it work? I reached for the one stuck in the tree. It didn’t move. I tugged harder. It stayed stuck.

I dropped to my knees, and using both hands, worked the thing back and forth until it finally came free. I stared at the hole in the tree, excitement swelling in my chest.

Now I had to go after the Legwalkers! This arrow weapon made my throwing stick look like cub’s play. It had taken months to shape my throwing stick and sharpen it and learn how to throw it so I could hit something.

How had those two clumsy Legwalkers made this marvelous arrow fly fast enough to bury itself into the tree? I had to find out.

The creatures were crashing through the bog, away from me. I began to run silently after them. They had secrets I wanted to know. Secrets that would make me as good a hunter as a wolf.