Silently they got up and climbed to the top of the hollow. The mountains, towards which they were heading and where they would find Malcoff and the mountain elves, were shimmering in the haze and appeared soft and grey in the late summer afternoon.
‘How long will it take to get there?’ Beth asked Nab.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps two days.’
They made their way, as quickly as they dared, in the direction of the mountains, but they saw nothing. No Urkku, no animals, no birds; the countryside was empty and desolate. When darkness fell they welcomed the coolness that came with the night although there was still not a breath of wind and the air was heavy and thick with heat. From the earth beneath their feet they could feel the day’s sunshine coming back up at them and their mouths became dry and parched. By Moon-High their exhausted sweating bodies were demanding a rest but in the animals’ minds was a vision of the pile of dead bodies which Warrigal had seen and it haunted them, spurring them on and on. Any delay now was unthinkable.
It was in the deepest hours of the night, between midnight and dawn, that they first heard the noise. It came from a long way behind them and at first they paid no attention to it, their minds being so intently fixed on the path ahead, but soon it grew louder and the blur of sound became distinguishable. They could make out the yelping and barking of dogs and mingled with them the shouts of the Urkku. They had all heard the sound before when Rufus and the other foxes of Silver Wood had been chased by packs of hounds and Urkku riding on horseback, whooping and cheering. But it had always been in the daytime; never at night. What were they doing out now?
They tried to ignore the noise in the hope that it would go away, and they tried also to quell the chill of fear that was fluttering in their stomachs. Dawn finally broke and a vivid gash of orange appeared over the mountains ahead of them but the barks and yelps, far from disappearing had grown louder and eventually Warrigal voiced their unspoken dread.
‘I fear we are being followed,’ he said.
‘They’re bound to find us with the dogs,’ said Perryfoot. ‘They never fail. How far behind us are they, do you think, Brock?’
‘I used to hear them starting out from the village for Silver Wood and they were louder than this so we still have some time.’
Then Nab spoke. ‘We shall have to hope that we can find Malcoff as soon as we get to the mountains. Otherwise they’ll be upon us. We must move quicker.’
Beth shrank inwardly. She was already utterly exhausted and had been hoping that they could take a little break some time soon. Now they were going to have to move faster, perhaps even to run. The sun had now appeared in the clear blue sky and it looked as if it was going to be another scorching day. She could not go on, yet if she insisted on a rest or on taking the pace more slowly she would be holding them up and once again becoming a burden to them. No; she would not give up! She would go with them until she dropped.
‘Come on, Beth. We shall have to run.’ Nab smiled down at her where she sat on the ground. Her long hair was tangled and streaked with soot from the smuts that floated everywhere and there were smudges of black on her nose and her cheeks and forehead. Her arms and legs were red and blistered from the sun and her face was flushed with the heat. She still wore her black Wellington boots but she had torn her jeans off above the knee. He thought back to the first time he had seen her, looking crisp and clean and fresh in the red gingham dress she had worn that wonderful spring afternoon down by the stream so many seasons ago. He stooped down, put both his arms around her and gently lifted her to her feet.
‘We’ll soon be safe in the mountains,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.’
She clung on to him as if trying to draw some of his energy and strength to her own worn-out body. Then suddenly she straightened up and looking deep into his dark eyes she said, laughing, ‘Come on then, slowcoach,’ and began to trot away over the fields.
All that day they ran at a steady loping pace over the flat burnt out meadows and all that day the yelps and barks and shouts behind them grew louder and clearer. By late afternoon they had reached the foothills of the mountains. As they climbed the gradually sloping fields they noticed that the grass became greener and soon they left the charred and blackened landscape of the lowlands behind them. Mercifully also the air became cooler and a little breeze began to blow against them, lifting their hair from their faces and blowing through Brock’s and Perryfoot’s fur. The fragrance of the long summer grass and the coolness of the breeze went to their heads like wine and their spirits lifted as they ran through little green valleys and up alongside gaily tinkling streams. After the desolation they had been through everywhere seemed so fresh and the greenness all around seemed to envelop them with its lush protection so that they felt safe and comforted. The sound of the pack was muffled by the trees and when they stopped to listen it seemed as if the barking was receding into the distance so they went more slowly, often stopping to drink from one of the cool clear streams or to nibble at something tasty. It was late summer now and some of the early autumn toadstools were beginning to appear in the dark and shady places.
It was just before dawn when they emerged from the trees and valleys of the foothills into the beginning of the mountains. Before them stretched a vast sea of purple heather interspersed with clumps of cotton grass waving their white heads gently in the breeze. It wasvery hard travelling over the heather and at first they kept to the little narrow sheep tracks, but Nab was afraid that if they strayed too far from the Roosdyche they would never find it again so they had to strike up and leave the paths.
They had not travelled far when suddenly they heard the sounds of the pack again, only this time it seemed as if it was just behind them. It had emerged from the trees and, now that there was nothing to smother the noise, the closeness of their pursuers was revealed to the animals with a shock of horror. They could not see them but the frantic baying was so near that it could only be a matter of minutes before they were spotted.
Desperately they ran over the heather urging their tired worn-out bodies to go faster until the breath rasped in their throats and their legs went numb with pain. Then suddenly Beth’s knees buckled under her and she fell face down on to a large clump of heather. For a second or two, with her eyes closed, she luxuriated in the wonderful feeling of lying there and giving in to the demands of her body but then she dragged herself back to reality as she felt herself being shaken and heard Nab’s frantic voice calling to her. She looked at him and his face seemed far away. She forced herself to speak.
‘I can’t go any further. Leave me here. You go on. I’ll be all right.’ Then she closed her eyes again and a haze of swirling blackness engulfed her.
‘Beth, Beth,’ shouted Nab but it was no use; her eyelids did not even flicker. He looked at the others; they were all stretched out panting on the heather, their bodies heaving with the effort of drawing breath. It was useless to think about going on but where could they hide? Suddenly Warrigal swooped down and landed beside him.
‘Where’ve you been? I didn’t even know you’d gone,’ said Nab.
‘I’ve been scouting around the hillside. There’s an Urkku dwelling nearby; just a little way down the hill and across. We shall have to take a chance that they are of the Eldron and will help us; I saw smoke coming out of a chimney so it is definitely occupied.’
‘We’ve got no choice, have we? We either stay here and get torn apart by the dogs for certain or else we take the risk of being handed over to them. I can carry Beth but I can’t carry these clothes as well. Brock’ll have to take them in his mouth.’