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

“Come on, we’ve got to hurry,” she urged. “Father will be waiting.”


The friends climbed down the slope to a bubbling hot spring. A male Fox, with a checkered bandana tied over his head, and a matching shirt, was sitting on the side of the pool, soaking his legs in the hot water.

JanWoo-Corriboo ran to him and threw her arms around him. “Father, it is so good to see you!”

“And you, too, my Janty,” the older Fox smiled. “You have some new friends, I see.”

Introductions were made all around. “This is my Father, TatterWoo-Corriboo,” said Janty, as her friends now knew her. “You can call him ‘Tatty’ if you want,” she said. “That’s what he’s called around the WooPeace.”

Helga sat down and pulled off her boots. Her legs hurt. She began rubbing her legs as she always did at the end of the day. It helped to relax the muscles and bring relief from the pain of her injured limbs.

“You should try the hot mineral water bath,” Tatty invited. “You’ll be surprised how good it feels, and how much it helps.”

She accepted the advice gratefully. Rolling up her pants, she slipped her legs in the hot, bubbling water.

“Ahhh, this is just what the doctor ordered,” Helga grinned. “I never want to leave!”

“Sorry, friend,” Tatty responded, “twenty minute maximum. You’ll be baked like a potato if you stay longer.”

Helga looked crestfallen, then brightened. “I’ll take my twenty minutes; maybe Venom Bats don’t like water.” She nudged Burwell playfully.

JanWoo-Corriboo piped up, “That’s right, Burwell, the sun is going down. Won’t be long until the Venom Bats come out.”

“Oh, Janty, for heaven’s sake, not that old monster tale again!” Tatty laughed. “Don’t listen to her, Burwell, she’s just teasing you. There’s no such thing as Venom Bats.”

“What?” Burwell burst out. “No Venom Bats? Do you mean to tell me that this pirate pup has given me heart palpitations for nothing? She’s been fibbing to us? Why, I’ll throw you in the hot spring and hold you under! Yep! Yep! Yep!” He started after Janty in a mock rage.

“Yes, Burwell, she fibbed, but it’s the biggest fib in these parts, since every WooSheep believes it’s true!” TatterWoo-Corriboo chuckled. “No one knows where the myth about the Venom Bats got started, but every WooSheep in the Bottoms learns it as a fact of life. Little beasts cut their teeth on the Venom Bat tale. The whole clan is terrified of them.”

“Uh, excuse me,” Burwell said, “but the two of you say there’s no such thing as Venom Bats and every other creature says there is. We’re supposed to believe you two? Sounds like bad odds to me!”

“Oh, there’s bats all right,” Janty spoke up. “We’ll be seeing them real soon. And the sight may scare the daylights out of you—but they’re not dangerous. I don’t know whether someone got scared of them once and the story just grew and grew, or if someone made up the story to keep the WooSheep away from here, but you don’t have to be afraid. Just take a look—here they come!”

JanWoo-Corriboo pointed to a vast cloud of small bats that was pouring out of an opening in the rock not far away. There were so many that they completely blocked out the disk of the setting sun. “Why, there must be thousands and thousands!” Helga breathed.

“Yes,” Janty replied. “You can definitely see how, if you were a little skitterish about bats, the sight could give you the shakes!” She looked at Burwell, who was noticeably shivering at the sight. “Don’t be scared, Burwell,” she continued. “These bats only eat flies and bugs.”

“Well, that still makes them meat-eaters!” Burwell argued. Everyone laughed.

“So,” Helga asked, “why don’t you tell everyone that the bats are harmless? Why allow the myth to continue?”

“Oh, some of the WooSheep know the truth,” Janty responded, “or at least would consider the possibility. But most just won’t even listen to such an idea. They know that if there’s no Venom Bats, then there might be a lot of other things that aren’t true, too...”

“Like what?” Bwellina asked.

“Like the idea that the WooSheep who live in the caves are bad, evil beasts,” Janty answered, looking fondly at her father.

Helga couldn’t take it any longer. “What a bunch of crazy, absolutely stupid, idiots!” she exploded. “This is nuts! We’ve got to do something! I can’t stand it anymore!” She stopped, feeling frustrated and flustered. She wanted to do something, but she didn’t know what.

Then, too, she also desperately wanted to find her father. Was she even close to his trail? There was only one possible—but unconfirmed—report of him. She was going on pure hope. She might be wasting her time. Had he really come this way? No one had reported seeing him. It was very discouraging.

“Whoa, Helga!” Janty exclaimed. “You sound just like Toshty when he goes off raving about the WooSheep.”

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