When the kits finally came—about an hour and a half later—Ereth was daydreaming about burrowing deep inside a dark, smelly log.
Startled by a sound, he swung about. Nimble, Tumble, and Flip were right before him, sitting in a row. They were looking at him. Their tails were wagging, their mouths slightly open, their large ears pricked forward.
“Ereth!” Flip said. “We didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Where did you think I’d be, murk mind?”
“Well, Dad said you wanted to get home right away,” Nimble explained. “And that’s why you didn’t say goodbye.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Yeah,” Tumble said.
Ereth took a deep breath. There was a great deal he felt like saying. All he said, however, was, “That isn’t true. He told me to go. How come you’re all here?” he asked.
Tumble said, “Dad said we should have a huge breakfast together. Told us to come up and grab as much as we wanted. A feast. As much as we could carry. That’s why.”
Ereth said nothing.
“Ereth,” Flip asked cautiously, “are you going home?”
“Eventually,” Ereth returned. “But I needed to hang around.”
“Why?” Nimble asked.
“I . . . I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Oh,” Flip said.
“Did you think I’d go without that?” Ereth demanded angrily.
The foxes exchanged looks, but said nothing. They had ceased wagging their tails.
As Ereth considered them, he thought they seemed a little sad. Or were they only confused? Or did he only want them to have those feelings? Maybe they were just embarrassed. Maybe they were wishing he had not been there. Flip kept looking over his shoulder, back toward the bluff, as if half expecting his father to appear.
“Look here,” Ereth began, though he found it hard to speak. “I just wanted to say . . . I liked being . . . with you.”
“It . . . was fun,” Flip said after a moment.
“Fun . . .” Ereth echoed sadly before continuing. “I . . . really came to . . . well . . . like you. You taught me a . . . lot.”
“Taught you?” Tumble asked. “What could we teach you?”
“Oh . . . forget it,” Ereth muttered helplessly. “I only wanted to say,” Ereth repeated, “that I’m glad I stayed. You’re very . . . nice.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Nimble said, giving a slight wag of her tail.
“And . . . and,” Ereth struggled, “if you ever, well, need me for anything, you can come get me.”
“You never told us where you lived,” Flip said.
“Cross the field, through the forest, till you get to the log cabin at Long Lake. Follow the trail south until you reach a gray snag. It’s full of mice. I live right next to it. In a log.”
“Oh great,” Nimble said. “Maybe we’ll visit you.”
“Yeah, right,” Ereth returned, not sounding very encouraging or hopeful. Then he remembered that he was going to find a new home where he could live alone, so no one would find him. He didn’t let them know about that.
No one spoke. The foxes gazed at Ereth, then away, then down at their paws. Ereth, not trusting himself to look at them, stared at his paws too.
“I have to go,” he suddenly announced. “Be careful until you find that last trap.”
“Don’t worry,” Tumble said. “We will.”
Still Ereth hesitated. “Hope things go well.”
“We’ll be okay,” Nimble said.
“Okay,” Ereth said. Abruptly he whirled about, took three steps, and banged into a tree. “Puckered pine pits!” he screamed. Then he backed off and stumbled away.
After ten yards he stopped and turned around. The foxes were still sitting there. Still looking after him.
“One more thing,” the porcupine croaked. “If I ever hear that any of you gangling idiots eats a mouse, I’m coming back. And if I do, I’ll make your nose look like a cactus in need of a haircut! Remember that!”
With that, Ereth, not daring to look back, ran away as fast as he could.
CHAPTER 24
Ereth and the Salt
ERETH WADDLED BLINDLY through the woods. He barged into bushes, bumped into trees, slipped, stumbled, fell into pockets of snow. Each time he stalled, he snarled, swore under his breath, picked himself up, pawed his eyes clear, and pushed on.
Only when he grew so weary that he had to rest did he stop and lean against the trunk of a tree. He did so reluctantly, gasping for breath. Briefly, he peered back along the trail he had just traveled to see if he had been followed.
For a second, he thought someone was there, and his heart jumped. Then he decided he was just imagining things and his heart sank again.
With an angry shake of his head, he murmured, “Alone at last,” and allowed himself a sigh that he fancied was one of contentment. At the same time he felt a great swell of emotion in his chest, which he did not have the energy to suppress. The effort left him weak and shaky.
“Blue heron hogwash,” he muttered. “I’m done with all this family fungus! Better to do what I want, when I want, how I want. I’m free again! Life is good!”
With that Ereth gave himself a shake, as if he could rid himself of whatever might be sticking to his quills. “It’s about time I did something for myself,” he announced out loud. Then he grinned. “Time to get some . . . salt.”
Damp-eyed, he looked around. By scrutinizing the sun as well as the shadows on the ground, he determined where he was.
After careful consideration, Ereth was quite sure his headlong rush had taken him north. To the best of his judgment, Long Lake, along with the cabin and the salt, was to be found in a southwesterly direction.
Feeling much more composed, Ereth took time to eat before resuming his journey. Yet once, twice, he gazed about, unable to rid himself of the feeling that someone was lurking in the woods, watching him.
“Fool,” he muttered. “No one’s there! No one will ever be there!” Still, he allowed himself the thought that it was always best to be on guard. But when he caught himself taking another peek behind, he made a stern vow to look no more.
As he went on, his spirits grew lighter. It
