“I don’t know what to think, Helga. It looks like craziness to head off to the Bone Forest. We’ll die for sure. We can’t go to the Drownlands Cutoff. We’ll die for sure. We can’t stay in the Drownlands. We’ll die for sure. I don’t like our choices...” He grew silent.
Helga said nothing. She shared Burwell’s concerns, but she also trusted Ola’s judgment. He knew the wilds better than anyone—but she also respected Burwell’s opinions. Although he was, in some ways, a silly and undisciplined fellow, Helga could see that underneath his silliness, he had a sincere kindness toward all. She also knew that a Bayou Dog did not survive in the Drownlands without a quick wit, courage and perseverance. Burwell was more than many might think. And Bwellina was like a rock, unwavering, unafraid, and unflappable. Her soft snoring was a perfect indication of how worry affected her.
“What should we do, Burwell?” Helga asked.
“I think we should try for the Cutoff station,” Burwell replied. “We probably have at least a little head start on King Stuppy’s thugs. We have a chance if we go that way. Going to the Bone Forest is suicide. You have as good a chance finding a trace of Breister at the Cutoff as in the Bone Forest—and perhaps we might have a chance to live. The Cutoff is the gateway into the Rounds of Deep Springs. If we can make it there we will be safe. You will have a life there. But in the Bone Forest, what will you have? Yep! Yep! Yep!”
Helga was silent for a time. Burwell had some excellent points. Yet her answer was not delayed long, and it was firm.
“Burwell, I appreciate your good-spirited desire to help me. I know you worry about me. I treasure that—and I love the thought of going to the Rounds again. I grew up there. I would truly love it there. But I want a chance to regain my Papa. Somehow, I think Ola is right. The place I am seeking is not a place. My heart tells me that both my affection for the Rounds and my hate for the Bone Forest may blind me to the true path.” Burwell understood her meaning.
“So, we are going to the Bone Forest.” Burwell observed. It was not a question, but a statement of conviction.
Helga looked at her friend. “I am going to the Bone Forest,” she replied. “You and Bwellina should also follow your hearts. Go to the Cutoff and escape into the Rounds if you can.”
“No, we go to the Bone Forest with you,” Bwellina declared, coming up to join the talk. “After what happened at King Stuppy’s Trading Post, we have no life here in the Drownlands any more. And after meeting you, we who have never before had a family, now have one. If you will have us, we are united in our quest to find Breister. What is a Bone Forest among family?” Bwellina finished, looking at her comrades with mock solemnity.
“Well, other than the Bone Forest being a death sentence, it surely is a wonderful thing to share!” Burwell observed dryly. Helga looked at Burwell, and chuckled. “My plan is to share everything with you except the death sentence,” Helga replied with a grim smile. “And I think, to see Ola’s face, we are about to depart.”
The first pink streaks of dawn were beginning to light the sky as Ola spoke. “Pick up yorn things quickly,” he whispered. “We’ve got to be movin’—the Locusts have stopped singin’. That’s the signal we’ve got visitors from King Stuppy! We’re warned in time to get away, but we can’t dally. I’ll load into the canoe and head out of here. I’ll lead the King’s men on a merry old chase, then I’ll slip away and they’ll never find me. Yor lay low, and then hike to the Bone Forest, safe and sound!”
“You’re taking the canoe and leaving us here, Ola?” Helga said incredulously. “You want us to walk out of the Drownlands? This place is nothing but water and quicksand!”
Ola smiled. “Yorn follow this sand-ridge line. It’ll lead yor all the way to the Bone Forest. Don’t leave the ridgeline, it’ll bein’ quicksand on all the sides—that’ll be yorn protection. The King will be thinkin’ yor will be paddlin’ out of the Drownlands,” Ola concluded, “but yorn be walkin’ right through the swamps. He’s not be thinkin’ that way!”
Helga looked at Ola in amazement. “Ola, you’re a genius!” Helga enthused.
“Niean, Misst Helgy,” Ola replied grinning. “It bein’ the power of the Enigma!”
Giving a quick hug all the way around, Ola was soon in the canoe, paddling off into the dawn. Soon the lovely notes of a flute could be heard. As if led by a magical piper, several massive canoes filled with rough-looking Cougars, Boars, and Weasels, glided past Ola’s hidden retreat, where Burwell, Bwellina, and Helga waited. The evil-looking pursuers wore heavy, gold-braided uniforms and were armed with cutlasses and pikes. They also carried the trappings of the King’s royal court: elaborate banners and huge ensigns of solid gold.
As soon as King Stuppy’s canoes had passed, and they felt certain they were far gone, the friends shouldered their packs and began following the sandy ridgeline, heading toward the Bone Forest.
In the Path of the Gateless Wolf