Ilika and his small group, one mounted and two walking, worked their way westward for several minutes after leaving the burning stable. Rini’s eyes stung so badly he could do little but stumble along behind Buna. Tera was already skittish from the smoke, fire, falling trees, and frightened people.
When the glowing green ball appeared in front of her, she gave a loud two-toned scream and stopped dead in her tracks, eyes swirling, ears flat.
“I’m surprised you can see that,” Ilika said, holding the donkey’s halter and talking to her with a soothing tone of voice.
“But Ilika, I can see it too!” Mati pointed out.
“Me too,” Buna said, her eyes wide with wonder.
Rini just stood blinking, unable to focus on whatever they were talking about.
“I’m surprised any of you can see it. There must be a reason. That’s our guide, Tera, our friend. We need to follow it to . . .”
Suddenly the light changed color slightly. To Ilika’s complete surprise, the donkey walked forward and stood face to face with the strange glowing ball.
She took deep breaths and made subtle squeaking sounds of curiosity.
“I think I understand,” Ilika said. “We can all see it because we’re going to need to see it. Let’s be on our toes.”
“But, Ilika!” Buna protested, her eyes still wide. “What is it?”
“It’s a friend, Buna, and will guide us well. I can’t explain any further right now. I need you all to trust me, and if anything happens to me, trust the
light.”
At that moment, the glowing ball began moving off through the smoke, back eastward and somewhat to the south. Without a word from Mati, Tera followed. Ilika came next.
Buna and Rini looked at each other, shrugged, and followed.
The light guided them out of the smoke and into a narrow ravine that threaded its way south into the unburned forest. A trickle of clear water and nearby berry bushes brought smiles to faces smudged with soot and red with irritation. Tera drank deeply from a small pool and began pulling at the grass along the brook.
Soon after faces were washed and a few handfuls of berries eaten, the light moved off again, this time back toward the smoldering town. Ilika looked puzzled, and the others would have ignored it, except that Tera immediately began following the mysterious orb.
Ilika ran, caught the donkey by her halter, and held her. Tera protested with squeaks and the stomping of her hooves as Mati hobbled to catch up.
As soon as Mati was mounted, neither she nor Ilika could do anything to stop Tera from following the shimmering ball, which had waited within sight.
“I think . . . we have work to do,” Ilika said.
Again Rini and Buna looked at each other, then followed.
A few minutes later, Tera twitched her ears and the others began to hear a sound they knew, a sound not too unexpected under the circumstances.
Somewhere in the smoke, in the unburned woods on the south side of Lumber Town, a child was crying.
They soon found her, barely three years old, not far from a tiny house on the edge of town that had burned to the ground. The little girl continued crying and tried to speak as Ilika picked her up, but her voice was raw and incoherent. She fell silent, however, when placed on Tera in front of Mati.
To Mati’s surprise, Tera didn’t mind.
Luckily the light guided them back to the brook and the berries, as the place would have been nearly impossible to find again on their own. The little
girl resumed her crying as soon as she was put down, even while drinking water and stuffing her mouth with berries. The others picked as fast as they could, fearing they would soon be called away again.
They were right. As soon as the glowing orb decided it was time to resume the task at hand, Ilika put Rini in charge of the sanctuary and Buna helped Mati to mount.
Rini looked glum as he sat by the brook, blinking his stinging eyes and handing berries to the crying child.
The fox watched from a cluster of boulders uphill from the brook. She wondered how humans could possibly survive the dangers of the world when they had such noisy children. One of her pups, years before, had been a little yippy, and had attracted a hungry hawk. The rest had grown up to be quick on their feet and quiet as mice.
To get away from the noise down at the brook, she began to trot farther south into the woods. Suddenly a little glowing green ball appeared in front of her. She leapt back and was about to run when it changed color. The glowing light now fascinated her, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to follow.
As she trotted through the woods after the light, she wondered why it was leading her northeast, toward the burned part of the forest. Then she remembered that one of her daughters had her den in that area, and was expecting her first litter about now.
Three more times that day the strange guide led donkey and people back into the smoke, each time finding a child petrified with fear or howling with grief, not daring to venture closer to the devastated town, not willing to leave.
A seven-year-old girl was barefoot so Ilika carried her on his shoulders. A crying four-year-old boy relaxed into a soft whimper as he rode back to the sanctuary on Tera. A girl of six years had moccasins and was anxious to walk once she had somewhere to go.
Between each rescue, the light led them back to the comfort of the ravine.
The seven-year-old helped pick berries, but the four-year-old boy immediately began to compete with the little girl to see how loudly they could cry and scream.
The sun dipped below the western horizon just as the last rescue mission returned to the sanctuary. The children all knew each other, but could take no joy in each other’s company as long as the youngest pair continued crying.
Holding them did no good, and berries only muffled the sound temporarily.
Mati volunteered, but Ilika would not let her give donkey rides in the dark.
Eventually the youngest two fell asleep on blankets spread out on the forest floor, and all the others breathed a sigh of relief.
Ilika and his three students sat with the two older girls, telling little stories from their recent adventures as they nibbled on berries and sipped water.
When the girls started yawning, Rini and Buna laid out more blankets and checked on the sleeping little ones.
When all their new charges were finally asleep, Ilika, Mati, Rini, and Buna gathered near Tera to talk. The donkey paused in her twilight grazing to glance at her people.
Buna lay back in the grass. “I’m exhausted.”
“I wish I knew how the others were doing,” Mati said with a forlorn voice.
Ilika let a moment pass. “The light . . . our guide . . . is helping them too.”
Mati took a slow breath. “Good.”
“Ilika!” Buna said with sudden realization. “I bet you really miss Kibi!”
“Yeah. How are you feeling about . . . Toli?”
Buna twisted her face, then just shrugged.
“I think we’ll see them all again,” Rini said. “Soon.”
Ilika remained silent.
“Can you,” Buna began, “you know, have your bracelet warn us if any wolves come around, or anything else big?”
“Yes. That would be best tonight.”
After the day’s experiences, no one even suggested they build a fire.
Buna slept near Ilika so she could hear his bracelet if it chimed a warning.
However, she slept as if dead, and didn’t awaken until the sun was up and everyone else was picking berries. She sat in confusion for a moment, wondering why two little children with berry-stained faces were looking at her. Then she remembered all the events of the previous day. “How did you
NEBADOR BookTwo: Journey 201
get them to quit crying?” she asked.
“They got a good night’s sleep,” Mati said from the edge of the berry bushes. “And Rini had berries ready as soon as they woke up.”
Rini grinned from deep in the berry patch, handing filled bowls out to Mati.
Buna, her stomach growling, hopped up to get some.
About mid-morning the glowing orb returned, but the children obviously couldn’t see it. Although he wouldn’t say why, Ilika got all the children ready to depart. Tera, as usual, couldn’t be held back.
The crying and screaming by the youngest two quickly resumed. Placing one on Tera did the trick, but the other made up for it by screaming louder, even when carried by Ilika or Buna.
Their guide seemed to know that some of them were barefoot, and led them very slowly deep into the woods south of the ruins of Lumber Town.
After more than an hour of ambling, the group entered an area of the forest where several huge trees had fallen. The glowing ball of light stopped over a massive hollow log lying on the ground. Ilika set his rider down and looked in.
A pair of frightened eyes looked back at him.
Ilika, Buna, and Rini all tried coaxing the child out, but without success.
After a while they gathered around Mati, still mounted, to talk about the situation.
The seven-year-old barefoot girl crept to the log and knelt down. “Hi, it’s
Misa. You can come out now, Rosi.”
Rosi shook her head and refused to budge.
Over the next half hour, the six-year-old tried, Rini and Buna begged and pleaded, and eventually Mati dismounted just in case she had the magic touch. Rosi remained petrified with fear.
Soon their guide was ready to move on, with Tera not far behind.
Ilika sighed. “Okay,” he said in a loud voice. “We’re leaving. The hungry wolf should be along soon.”
Rini brought up the rear, and when they had gone about a hundred yards, he glanced back to see little five-year-old Rosi picking her way behind on bare feet.
About two hours later, far to the west near the north-south road, the green orb stopped at the base of a large broad-leafed tree. Ilika, his three students, and four of the children gathered around and looked up. Rosi sat on the ground about twenty yards back and hugged her knees.
“Hi,” came a voice from above.
It took those on the ground several moments to spot the boy’s face among the forking branches and thick leaves.
“Hi, Kamo!” the six-year-old girl with moccasins said. “Want to join us?”
“Um . . . if there are no . . . wolves around.”
Everyone looked, just to be sure.
“Anyway,” Rini said, “we can handle wolves. It’s crying children we don’t know what to do with.”
Kamo, about nine years old, climbed out of the tree slowly. He was lucky enough to have boots, but his arms and legs showed deep scratches from the rough bark.
“Where are we going?” the boy asked as soon as he was on the ground.
Rini shrugged. “We don’t know.”
“There might be more kids to rescue,” Buna added.
Ilika switched children on Tera, and the little boy immediately began screaming.
The mysterious glowing guide disappeared as they approached the
homestead on the far side of the road. The log house was large but not rich, the roof sturdy but old. The yard contained vegetable gardens, animals pens, and wood sheds. It also now hosted a dozen or more little campsites with simple lean-to tents protecting the few salvaged possessions of the refugees.
All those who were able worked in the gardens and pens, or carried supplies in and out of the house. A man with an axe, standing watch against wild animals and thieves, challenged the group as it approached, but threw down his weapon when he saw the three-year-old girl riding with Mati.
“Daddy!” the girl screamed as he reached up to receive her.
Little Rosi, when she finally wandered into the yard, was quickly spotted by her older brother and sister, but they knew nothing of the fate of their mother. The lad, about fifteen, showed by his mature speech that he was ready to take on his new responsibilities.
The crying four-year-old boy became happy and content when he felt his mother’s arms around him, not yet aware she had been blinded by the fire.
Rini breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a man drop an armload of firewood and run to join them.
The girl in moccasins wandered among the people in the yard for several minutes before recognizing an aunt and uncle. They spoke in quiet tones, and the girl burst into tears. Buna lingered long enough to see them comfort her, then share their loaf of bread.
Nine-year-old Kamo and seven-year-old Misa searched every corner of the yard and talked to the people in the house. Rumor placed Kamo’s uncle in the woods north of town, but nothing else was known. Misa found no one.
They both looked at Ilika.
“We’re going down to the village on the bay to meet our friends. You are welcome to come with us.”
Both children tried to smile, but finally just nodded.
Deep Learning Notes
In the following discussion, the word “deity” is used in place of whatever
name or title you might prefer to use.
A theme runs through most religions: the willingness to do the will of deity when called upon. This idea is contrary to normal social values, in which we are taught to do the will of our parents, cooperate with our spouse, help other family members a little, speak respectfully to authority figures, and ignore most strangers.
Would you be more likely to do the will of deity if the instructions came from a human being, or from a non-human source?
If the deity-instructions came from a human being, would you most respect: (1) a priest/minister of your religion? (2) a government official? (3) a bearded wise old man? (4) a business man in a suit? (5) a scruffy homeless person? (6) a child?
If the deity-instructions came from a non-human source, would you most respect: (1) a glowing green orb? (2) a burning bush? (3) a hovering angel with wings? (4) a book written in old-fashioned language? (5) a beautiful girl-fairy with delicate wings? (6) an ugly demon with sharp teeth and slimy skin? (7) a talking animal (that normally doesn’t talk)?
Ilika seems familiar with the green ball of light, but surprised others can see it. What does this tell us about him?
Most religions currently teach that only human beings have the “favor” of deity, and have spiritual potential. How did you feel when the fox was guided toward cubs who needed help?
In this chapter, we can see the natural point at which people become capable of constructive, helpful behavior. With rare exceptions, three and four-years-olds are not. Again, with exceptions, seven-year-old girls and nine-year-old boys are. Ages five to eight are a gray area. This basic fact about human nature is supported by many true-life stories.
In your opinion, should Ilika and his companions have forced five-year-old Rosi out of the log if she had not emerged of her own free will?
