Helga: Out of Hedgelands (Wood Cow Chronicles #1)

Helga was disappointed, but not discouraged. Consulting with Ola and her new friends, she decided that she must go to the Cutoff station. She would find out if a Wood Cow had actually been there. As she shared this decision, she looked at the faces of her friends. Gazing at each, one by one, she asked the question without speaking it: Did they wish to go with her?

Ola was the first to speak: “Misst Helgy, tha’is friend of yorn is forever yorn friend and loyalist. But tha’is friend of yorn bein’ a Gateless Wolf, and he can’t but help bein’ a wanderer. Just as I found you in need of a friend, other travelers bein’ in need. I must remain in the wilds. But the enigma is that if we part, we will surely be close forever.”

Burwell and Bwellina, on the other hand, urgently pleaded to go with Helga. The thought of being left in the Drownlands without either Helga or Ola caused Burwell to burst into pathetic cries. “Oh, woe or mercy, woe or mercy, that’s my choices! If I stay in the Drownlands, King Stuppy will hunt me, and he’ll hunt me until he brings me to woe! Helga the Merciful is my only hope! Oh, please, Helga, have mercy on a poor, poor Bayou Dog! I don’t want to Ride the Log! Yep! Yep! Yep!”

While not ignoring the real danger Burwell would be in if he stayed in the Drownlands, Helga burst out laughing at his dramatic pleading. “Oh, Burwell, you know I couldn’t leave you and Bwellina here...I don’t have a clue how to get to the Drownlands Cutoff. You know the way, I presume?” Helga furrowed her eyebrows, giving Burwell a very solemn look. “Without your help I would be a lost creature that Ola would have to come rescue!” Helga laughed.

“Well, yes, Helga, I have been to the Drownlands Cutoff station...Oh, about three dozen times. Bwellina and I have been going that route every year for more than thirty years.”

Ola was not joining in the joking talk. He appeared to be in deep reflection. Helga knew it was best to leave him alone when he was in such a mood. She gave Burwell a quieting look, and they paddled on silently, going in no particular direction, but staying to the concealed, lost bayous away from the main routes. Ola used a paddle as a rudder, moving it slightly from time to time as if with his swaying, meditative mood. Where were they going? Helga, Burwell and Bwellina had no idea. Helga guessed that Ola was simply doing his best to keep them away from King Stuppy’s search parties.

At last, they floated into a lake, well protected by trees and thick reeds on all sides. Once on the lake, Ola lay his rudder paddle down, and let the canoe drift aimlessly. Helga and Burwell waited to hear his plans. Instead, he began playing his flute. Helga, although puzzled, was grateful for the break in the solemn mood.

The Wolf played for quite some time as the canoe drifted gradually toward the far shore of the lake. As night began to fall, the Locusts began their evening chirruping, seeming almost to harmonize with Ola’s music. Stars came out as the sky darkened—billions and billions of stars, dazzling across the night sky.

Finally, as the canoe bumped against the shoreline of the lake, Ola put away his instrument. He pointed to a large tree with wide spreading branches slightly down the shore. “We’ll be stoppin’ there tonight,” he said. “There’s a traveler’s lean-to on the back side.” Taking up their paddles once more, they pushed down to the tree Ola had indicated.

“We can camp here in safety,” Ola announced. “I’ve been asking the Locusts to watch out for King Stuppy’s boats. I learned to play my flute by listenin’ to the Locusts and following their tune. I learned to be talkin’ with them. They’ll be lettin’ us know if they see anything.”

Guiding the canoe to the bank, Helga and Burwell were grateful to stretch their cramped muscles. As soon as the canoe touched the bank, Ola leaped up and grabbed a low-hanging branch of the tree. Pulling himself up on the branch, he called to the others, “Don’t step out on the bank, friends, it bein’ quicksand. I’ll droop yor down a rope and pull yorn up. Then we’ll walk along the branch and climb down on the back side, where the ground bein’ firm.”

A vine rope was lowered and Bwellina tied it around her waist. Then hanging on tight, Ola hauled her up in the tree. Burwell and Helga followed. Ola showed them the way to follow a well-worn path across some low branches. He helped Helga, still a bit unsteady on her injured legs, to navigate the route safely. The branch reached a solid hillock at the rear of the tree that rose above the lower, wet ground. The creatures did not even have to jump to step off the branch where it reached the hillock. A rough shelter was built there.

“Tha’is will be ‘Welcome to Ola’s Retreat,’” Ola smiled. “Tha’is will do for tonight. We’ll eat catfish, soon as I catch some. Tomorrow, I’ll show yor the way toward the Bone Forest, and then I’ll be leavin’ yor.”

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