Borallt explained that the young Wood Cow known as Christer was his trapping partner. “Sorry to wake you, Christer, I know you have been up the last two nights checking traps before the storm hits, but these travelers need to know what you’ve seen. What can you tell them?”
“There are many breezes stirring,” Christer replied. “Lots of beasts are camped in the mountains—many more than the Wrackshees. The monitor caravans have been delayed for weeks and are still not able to run—the roads being flooded. No one knows when the weather will break, so everyone waits. The Wrackshee Bozz is camped up at High Boulders waiting like everyone else for the weather to allow the trading to begin. As soon as the Needle Rains pass, the slave-bidders will surround him like flies on rotting meat. It will be a hell’s-brew of shabby cheating and fighting, wretched slaves, half-witted trallé drivers, madness, and wild-eyed greed—no place for a decent beast.”
Christer paused to yawn and take a stretch, then continued. “On the other hand, I heard something very interesting along the trap lines—I ate some Flamin’ Pike and Crusts with Mirty Tee in his camp one night. He had seen a strange group of travelers—a male Wood Cow and Owl, and a female Cougar—over on the Far Slope heading down the Wrackshee Coast. They was moving in broad daylight, just as big as life—a dangerous business that—they don’t call it the Wrackshee Coast for nothing. Only a beast without a lick of good sense, or crazy with desperation, would travel the Wrackshee Coast in daylight. There’s danger a-plenty even in the dark. But that’s just it—the High One and his blightin’ bilge-sucking buzzards won’t let anyone trade with the Wood Cows. Makes it impossible for a lot of Wood Cows to make a livin’ or have a future—which is why I came out looking for something new and ended up working with Borallt. Anyway—the Wood Cow, name of Breister, told me he’d heard there was a terrible shipwreck up on the coast and the crew’s in a terrible fix.”
“Share out some more Wheeze, Borallt!” yelled Mr. Tigg. “That will be our mates! Whoop! Zallarooo!”
“And that will be my father!” Helga hollered. The news threw Helga’s mind into turmoil. In the shadows cast by the firelight on the cave walls, Helga seemed to see the stricken ship, with shadowy bands of Wrackshee slavers flickering all around them.
Trembling in every nerve—passionate fear, terrifying memories, and excitement mingling in a potent outburst of enthusiasm—Helga suddenly leaped up and ran to the cave opening, beckoning for the others to follow. “Come on! Why do we wait? Hurry! There is no time to waste!” Seeing that her friends just stared at her as they continued to lounge around the fire, rage and astonishment surged through Helga. “Are you dead? Senseless? Do we plan to let our friends become slaves? Come with me, or I will go alone! We must act without delay!” Helga exploded. “The sailors need our help and all of them are in the greatest danger!”
“Whoa n’ wait a bit,” Christer said slowly, “just hold on while we figure a bit. There’s no time to waste, that’s for certain, and I’m fully agreed with you there—but there’s room for figuring to even up the odds a bit, if you ask me.” Christer paused, clucking his tongue happily, as if he had just told a joke no one else understood.
“What’s first,” Christer continued, “...what’s first, is that you can go the way the Sn’akers go and beat the Wrackshees at their own game. The Sn’akers’ business is to elude the Wrackshees and no one does it better. A party of Sn’akers stops near here tonight to pick up our snakeskin bales and take them to Port Newolf. If you don’t mind riding with the bales of skins, they can carry you, too! That’d be the fastest and safest way to get to the wrecked ship. If they’ve got room in one of their litters, the Sn’akers will gladly take you with them—they hate the Wrackshees and will be happy to help.”
“Yar!” Roolo cheered. “Now we’ll be out of here and off to help our mates! When will the Snake-takers be here?”
“Hold on partner,” Christer replied, “you’re not going anywhere fast. Only Helga can go with the Sn’akers—their litters will be pretty full as it is and they won’t have room for you all. And only the Snake-takers can run swift, but silent in the dark—too many is too much in Wrackshee country. So you just settle down with your Wheeze and rest a spell.”
“What!” Roolo cried. “Stay here, while our mates are in danger and send Helga out to face the Wrackshees alone? That’s crazy!”
“Just hear what’s second,” Christer replied. “Helga going with the Snake-takers will get her to the ship and maybe to her father. So, while Helga takes the faster route to the ship, you and Bomper can take a longer route around and meet her there. You’ll be plenty safe skirting around the Wrackshee areas and you’ll still be at the ship in good time. So that’s my two thoughts.”
Although everyone wanted to continue the journey together, they also saw the wisdom in Christer’s plan.