Tortoise Reform

  "I will graze,” Gopher thought. He departed.

  Rowan climbed the tree. It was a good-sized live oak, with considerable foliage, and a number of big gnarley branches extending outward and upward. She found a place where three branches diverged, forming a solid pocket that was hard to see from the ground. She used the vines to tie the dead branches she had brought to the live ones, making sure they were secure, forming crude walls. Then she hung cloth on them to make them wind-proof. Her house was cup-shaped rather than square, but she thought it would do.

  Except for one thing: it had no roof. Oh, the canopy of the higher foliage closed it off from the sky, but she knew that when rain came, she would get soaked. That would never do. She had to have something waterproof overhead.

  "I've got a problem,” she thought to Gopher, reaching out for his mind.

  "Need I return to the burrow?” His thought was faint; he was grazing some distance away.

  "No. I just hope you have the answer. I need a roof. Something to keep the rain out of my treehouse."

  "I did not think of that,” Gopher thought. “The burrow does not need a roof. The birds also make waterproof material that some humans use for their shelters. Some use nothing but this material, strung on poles."

  "Tents!” Rowan thought. “Tight canvas. That would do."

  "We must go back to the birds to make another trade. But this type of cloth is special, so they require more for it."

  "I was afraid of something like that. Can we get it?"

  "Yes. But it will take more time."

  It turned out that there was a special type of fungus that grew only in the deepest, wettest caves, that glowed with different colors. The birds used it to make glowing cloths that were quite rare. Because Gopher was an unusually curious tortoise—most tortoises soon settled into routine, but he was unreformed—he had discovered such a cave and knew where it was. But the fungus had to be harvested fresh, and there was never very much of it at a time. They would have to make a special excursion to that cave and glean what they could.

  Fortunately it was near the deep tunnel that went to the other realm. So Gopher and Peba widened the passage to it, and Rowan joined them for the harvest. It was beautiful; the fungus glowed all around it, mostly green, but some was blue, and some red. It was like a fairyland. “I almost hate to take this,” she thought. “It's so lovely as it is, I don't like spoiling it."

  The others picked up the idea of beauty from her mind. “It is lovely,” Peba agreed. “I never knew that concept before."

  They harvested it carefully, scraping the fungus off the walls of the cave, leaving some of each color so that it would grow again. Rowan put the scrapings into her bag. By the time they were done, it was night, and she was hungry. She had had nothing to eat but berries in the bears’ cave.

  "We feel your hunger,” Peba thought. “We must get food for you."

  "It would help,” Rowan thought. “I've been distracted all day, making the tree house and all, but I do need to eat."

  "We can get you regular vegetables,” Gopher thought. “Go with Owl."

  They crawled out of the cave and the burrow. Owl was there. He flew across to perch on Rowan's shoulder. “This way."

  She followed his mind, seeing more clearly in the darkness. They came to a den where a fox stood.

  "We need to trade,” Owl thought to the fox.

  "What is your range?"

  "It is not official, for we are not yet recognized as a burrow, but no one has challenged it.” Owl opened his mind to show an aerial view of the region of their burrow.

  "It will do,” the fox thought. “Do we have exclusive hunting privileges, apart from your burrow members?"

  "We can't guarantee that, but if no one challenges, you will have it."

  "Understood.” The fox gazed at Rowan. “You have a hungry human female."

  "She is young, so may eat less than a grown one."

  "True. And there is something about her mind that intrigues me."

  Rowan quickly damped down her thoughts; she had to learn to be careful all the time. The raccoons claimed to be the smartest animals, but she suspected the foxes were. She let slip only thoughts of stupidity.

  "Perhaps not,” the fox concluded. “She may use my garden for herself alone, as long as I have good hunting in your territory."

  "Agreed.” Owl oriented on Rowan. “I will show you the garden. Take only what you need."

  The fox disappeared, evidently to hunt in the burrow's territory. Rowan walked where Owl indicated, using his good night vision, and found a roughly planted vegetable garden. She recognized carrots, turnips, squash, lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, and potatoes. She had never been much for salads, but suddenly these looked very good. “Can I cook any of this?"

  "Yes, if you have fire."

  "Maybe tomorrow. Right now I'll settle for the vegetables I can eat raw.” She plucked several big red tomatoes and put them in her bag. Then she pulled some carrots and carefully tore off several lettuce leaves.

  "The fox also has fruit,” Owl thought.

  She looked where his mind indicated, and saw strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries. They looked wonderful. She picked a number, eating them as she picked. “This is great!"

  Then they made their way back to the burrow, using Owl's good night vision. “I wish I could see as you do,” she thought wistfully. “With my own eyes, I mean."

  "There is no need. I will share whenever you need."

  "Yes. That's the great thing about the burrow. You burrow mates share, and it makes you all better than you are alone."

  "Still, I would like to be able to think as you do,” Owl thought. “Sharing your mind is like flying over the sun."

  "I'll always share when you need it,” she thought.

  "And, sharing you mind, I see the irony,” Owl thought. “We each envy the other, yet each sees no need for the other to envy. That concept is well beyond my isolated mind, but makes wonderful sense with yours."

  "I love sharing with all of you. You're—you're company, in the best sense. It's impossible to be lonely when you're with nice other minds. This telepathy—it's so much more than just talking without my mouth. I get the full context, including your feelings. I know you didn't like me at first, but now you do."

  "Now I do,” Owl agreed. “Now you have seen the humans of this realm, so you understand my prejudice."

  "Yes. Humans are such brutes.” She paused. “In my realm, too, many of them. Mind sharing is not only better, it's nicer. No one deceives anyone."

  "Actually deception is possible. But it requires practice and concentration, and we are not good at it."

  She laughed. “I'm better at it, because it happens all the time in my realm. But I never want to lie to any of you."

  They reached the burrow and the tree. “We do not have your waterproof cloth tonight,” Owl thought. “But there is no cloud in the sky, so you will not be wet."

  "One other thing I still need. I've got potatoes, but I can't eat them raw. I need fire to cook them."

  "Tomorrow we will get you fire,” Owl thought.

  "Okay. These other vegetables and fruits will do tonight. So I'm set for the night, I guess. And you have to hunt; I feel it in your mind. You're trying to be nice and not desert me, but as you said, you aren't good at deception. Go hunt, Owl; I'll be fine."

  Without further thought, Owl spread his wings and took off into the night sky. Soon his thoughts were fading with distance.

  Rowan wiped off a carrot and bit into it. She would have preferred to wash it, but had no water. She was lucky the fruits were juicy, so she wasn't thirsty. She'd see about getting a pail so she could have clean water in her treehouse. Right now she was tired; it had been a long day.

  She climbed the tree and got into her tree-cup. She'd need to get a pillow, too, and a blanket, so she wouldn't have to use her parka to sleep in. So there were things to be done. Tomorrow, or the day after. Right now she would make do.

 
She curled up in the bottom of the cup and closed her eyes. And heard the mosquitoes. They had not been bold while she was active, but now they swarmed—and she had no repellant.

  "We're going to suck your blood,” the mosquitoes thought faintly. They did not actually think in a sentence, but that was the essence. Their hollow noses were quivering for her tender flesh.

  Rowan was fed up with nuisances. “If you do, I'll blow you into oblivion!” she thought fiercely, forming a mental picture of a grenade exploding, sending bits of bugs out in a grisly shower.

  Suddenly the swarm was gone.

  "What do you know! I scared them off.” She realized that telepathy had yet another use. It seemed that all creatures of this realm were telepathic, at least to some degree, and responsive to the minds of others. She could make friends by being mentally pleasant—and could drive away others by being mentally nasty. That was a useful discovery.

  She established a background thought of stinky mosquito repellent, and drifted to sleep.

  Chapter 10

  Threat

  Cottontail's leg was healing, but he still could not run well. That would be dangerous out in the field. So he joined Rowan, amplifying her contact with the others and answering her questions, while she took him to the river and grazing field. Actually one of them had to be with her, by day, to ride in the howdah, so that the human girl seemed legitimate. He was the one, this day.

  First they went to the closest stream, where they drank, and then Rowan removed her parka and washed her body. Cottontail didn't fully understand why she did that, but realized that it wasn't easy for her to clean her body by licking it all over. He helped her by making her not feel the cold, and tried to show her how she could do that for herself. A mind could do a lot, when it knew how. Then they went to the grazing field, when he dismounted and feasted on the best leaves.

  Now there was the matter of the roof for her treehouse. Cottontail understood why she didn't want to get rained on; dry was generally more comfortable. Owl joined them for this, as it was easier for a bird to deal with other birds.

  They took the bag of glowing fungus to the weaving birds. The organization of birds was not the same as a burrow, but several kinds often shared a particular tree for sleeping and nesting, and considered themselves tree mates. Only the larger birds were fully sapient, like the hawks, the owls, the largest woodpeckers, the turkeys, and the herons, but smaller ones shared to an extent.

  They came to a large magnolia tree, where the birds they wanted perched on low branches. “We have glow fungus,” Owl announced. “We want rainproof cloth."

  A red-shouldered hawk inspected the open bag Rowan held up. “It will do,” he thought.

  On a branch on the far side of the tree hung a broad length of heavy cloth. “Canvas!” Rowan thought, delighted.

  The hawk peered down at her disapprovingly. “Your bearer is expressive."

  "She likes pretty things,” Owl explained, while Rowan quickly shut down her thoughts. She still tended to forget to keep her mind closed.

  "This is not pretty, it is functional,” the hawk thought.

  "It is pretty to her simple human mind."

  Cottontail felt Rowan's effort to suppress her laughter. But it was a good explanation; the hawk lost interest in the human. Rowan lifted the heavy cloth with her arms and carried it back to the burrow. She piled it into her treehouse.

  Next they attended to the girl's need for fire. “Take along a pole,” Cottontail advised.

  "We'll be trading a pole for fire?"

  "Not exactly.” He tried to clarify the concept, but bungled it.

  "I'm sure I'll find out soon enough,” she thought.

  They went by the region of dead trees, and Rowan searched until she found a piece that would serve as a staff, about as tall as she was, strong, and not too heavy. Cottontail had her strike tree trunks with it as she passed, and to tap hard on rocks. She needed to be able to use it efficiently.

  "Why?” she inquired.

  "To protect yourself and your rider the way humans do. We will try to trade protection for fire.” He shared his thought with her. This time he got it right.

  "Maybe that will work,” she agreed. “But I think we'll need to make a demonstration."

  This was another new concept. Cottontail discussed it with her, and came to understand her reasoning. “Yes, this is better."

  He brought her back toward the burrow. Near it was an opossum, poking around and under the dry leaves of the forest floor. “Hail, Possum!” Cottontail thought from the howdah platform.

  The possum paused, gazing up at the rabbit. “What do you want with me?"

  "Fire."

  "I have it. What do you offer?"

  "Tolerance by the burrow."

  "The only burrow mate I fear is the indigo snake, and he has never hunted me."

  "Because we thought we might one day need your fire. Now we do."

  "None of you use fire."

  "But our new bearer does."

  The opossum looked directly at Rowan for the first time. “That's yours? I thought you borrowed it."

  "She is ours. We are maintaining her. We need fire to cook her food."

  "Tolerance isn't enough. There are other threats."

  "Protection, then."

  "How can you protect me from a coyote or a wildcat? I see by your mind you were injured by a cat."

  "I was. Now I have protection."

  "In a howdah. But I forage on the ground."

  "Let us imagine,” Cottontail thought. “Let's call that rock there a wildcat ready to pounce. Bearer: strike it!"

  Rowan understood his ploy, because she had devised it. She strode toward the rock, swinging her pole at it. There was a thud as it struck. Then she jammed the end of the pole into the rock, rolling it over.

  "That wildcat is hurting,” Cottontail thought to the opossum.

  The possum was impressed. “But would she help me when I need it?"

  "If we make the deal, you must attune your mind to hers, so that she can hear your call for help. Then she will come as quickly as she can, with her pole. You will have to give her time to come, but if you do, she should be able to drive off your attacker."

  The opossum addressed Rowan. “Do you hear me, human?"

  "Yes. I will come when you call, with my pole."

  The possum was taken aback. “You feel sapient!"

  Oops. Cottontail realized that he should have cautioned her to respond stupidly, keeping her mind mostly closed.

  But the girl had an answer. “The burrow mates require me to communicate like them. They don't like stupid humans."

  The possum was not fully convinced. “Most humans are unable to do that. They are stupid."

  "I am smart for a human. If you do not think anything complicated at me, I can manage to seem almost sapient."

  That persuaded the opossum. “I will make this deal,” he thought to Cottontail.

  "Give us fire."

  The opossum rummaged in some brush, and brought out a small clay pot filled with dry leaf fragments. “Here is a fire-pot. Do you know how to use it?"

  "Not well,” Cottontail thought. “See if you can make the human girl understand."

  The opossum used a foreclaw to scrape away part of the leaf mixture. A tiny curl of smoke rose from the pot. “Touch a dry leaf or straw to the inside, and breathe on it to make the flame come. Follow my mind."

  Rowan lifted the pot, took a dry stem of grass, and followed the opossum's mental instructions. She poked the stem in and blew on it, not too hard. In a moment the pot glowed and the stem caught fire.

  "Do it that way,” the opossum concluded. “The coals in the pot will last several days, if you keep them dry. When they burn out, and you need fire again, bring the pot to me and I will give you another."

  Cottontail saw that the girl already understood the principle very well, having worked with fire before. She could repack the pot to keep the coals alive much longer. But that would give a
way her intelligence. “We will do that,” he agreed. “Meanwhile, when you are ready, send the human a call, to be sure she receives you. Then you will know you have protection."

  "I will do that,” the possum agreed.

  They returned to the burrow. “How come possums have fire?” Rowan asked him.

  "They do it for trade, the same as the raccoons, fox, and birds. We are a trading society. Many animals have specialties, and it is easier to deal with them than to try to do all things ourselves."

  "I like it. I always thought possums were pretty stupid."

  "In your realm they surely are. Here they are sapient."

  "That's right. I keep forgetting. But why is it that only animals in your size range are sapient? I can see why the smaller ones are duller, because they just don't have enough brain. But what about the bears and humans?"

  "We don't know. We think it is that the larger creatures have enough physical power to be out of danger from most other animals, so never needed to get very smart. But we are not sure."

  "Maybe some day I'll figure it out."

  They were back at the tree. Cottontail dismounted, and the girl took off the howdah and set it and her staff carefully beside the tree. Then Rowan gathered twigs and dry leaves, used the fire-pot as directed, and soon had a small fire burning. She buried her potatoes in the ground beside it, then moved the fire so that it burned right above them. She did indeed know what she was doing.

  "Human! Come quickly!” It was the opossum's practice call.

  "Go alone!” Cottontail thought.

  "Got it.” She grabbed the pole and ran toward the summons.

  Cottontail sat by the fire. He had never been much for such a thing, but seeing how the girl used it impressed him. It made it possible for her to eat things she could not otherwise digest. He wondered what baked potato tasted like.

  Gopher emerged from the burrow and joined him. “She has fire."

  "We made the deal. Now she is protecting the opossum."

  "That is good. I hope our association with her is worthwhile."

  "You have doubt?"

  "We have used up most of our resources in order to maintain her. Our hunting range, our special roots, our glowing fungus, and now we must protect the opossum. This is a burden."