Flur-Ella was thoughtful. “We must be watchful then,” she whined quietly. “We should keep our talking to a minimum.”
Pata-Pikki looked at her and nodded. Hoopy’s ears perked up.

Bar-thur could see Hoopy was listening with his sharp ears to the movements of the forest. He squinted through the leaves and branches but saw nothing but the forest above them.

They walked silently, descending into a low mossy place with stone outcroppings along a well-worn path. Hatch rode on Flur-Ella’s head, occasionally flying into treetops and down again.

 “We are here!” she chirped, perching again on Flur-Ella’s head. “We will go to High Horns.” She pointed with her wing to a turning in the path, and they plunged into a thicket of very dense growth. As they passed through it, they heard a sound behind them. Two Narflbots pushed through the brush at the side of the trail. Barely breathing, the Scrufflings and Bar-thur prayed the Narflbots hadn’t seen them.

A beeping machine, small, close to the ground, with many wheels, moved in front of the Narflbots. It appeared to be ‘sniffing’ the soil.

“Quietly, go deeper in,” mouthed Pata-Pikki, pointing to the brushy depths of the forest. He motioned for them to go without him. They looked hesitant, but Pata-Pikki looked at them sharply and motioned to the scrub again. The Forest Beings dispersed into the rich undergrowth while Pata-Pikki sat motionless as the Narflbots spoke together. 

“Jacko, look at that! The Snuffler's found something.”
Pata-Pikki heard a sound to the right of him. Could a Snuffler hurt him? If he sat there, he would soon find out. Tightening his pack, he leaped out of the bushes between the two Narflbots. They were an ugly pair, one with a telescoping eye, the other with a claw for a hand. Escape was at the top of Pata-Pikki’s mind, especially in a different direction than his friends had gone.

“Jacko, me boy, look a Scruffling! He’s mine, I say. I’ll pop him with my first shot.”

“You called it Burt, but the second shot is mine!”

Pata-Pikki ran as fast as he could, zigzagging through the trees.

“Zzzt!” A charge came from Jacko’s pointing stick and hit the tree right next to Pata-Pikki as he jumped down a slope descending into the mossy hollow. A second report came from Burt’s pointing stick, “Zzzt!” and Pata-Pikki fell, tumbling head over heels down into the leaves at the ravine’s bottom. 

“I got him, Jacko!” Burt called out with glee.

At that moment, a strong wind started blowing. Jacko and Burt both fell to the ground covering their heads. The wind whirled in circles, and because it was spinning so fast, it flipped the Snuffler over,  wheels still turning in the air. Then a more powerful gust picked it up and blew it with force against the trunk of a nearby tree. Springs popped out, and a puff of black smoke spiraled up from its center.

“Me Snuffler!” yelled Burt. “Me Snuffler’s had it!” The wind stopped as suddenly as it began. Dry leaves that had ascended into the air drifted down in silence. The Narflbots ran to the Snuffler. “What about the Scruffling?” Jacko asked. They turned and looked down into the swale. “It’s gone, must have gotten away. I don’t see a leaf moving down there.”

                                                                                                               ...........

Flur-Ella turned to Hoopy. “I don’t like leaving Pata-Pikki. He should have come by now. What is taking him so long?” she whined. They sat in a thicket of bushes at the top of a rise, having run at Pata-Pikki’s instruction.

“He’ll find us, Flur-Ella,” Hoopy barked. “Don’t worry; our job is gathering the Forest Beings. That is what he sent us to do. We all need to leave this forest.”

“You are right, of course,” Flur-Ella whined, sighing.

“If he isn’t here when we are through, I’ll go look for him,” Hoopy gruffed.

Hatch whistled and chirped and flew up into the air. Landing on Flur-Ella’s head again, she pointed with her wing. Then Hatch soared up and vanished. Flur-Ella whined, “I think she is going to find him.”

They waited only minutes when Hatch returned and trilled, “The Narflbots are walking back to the Strange Contraptor. I didn’t see Pata-Pikki.” 

“Say that again, Hatch,” Hoopy asked while Hatch repeated herself. Between them, they made sense of what she was saying.

“We must find High Horns,” Hoopy repeated. “That is what Pata-Pikki wants us to do.”

“Yes,” growled Bar-thur, “Pata-Pikki said the Forest Folk should leave immediately. It is too dangerous here.”
Hatch sat on Bar-thur’s left ear, trying to follow the conversation with her bright eyes.

Flur-Ella was upset, but she nodded her head in agreement. “Who will go to show the way if Pata-Pikki has not returned by then?”

“I will take them,” grumbled Bar-thur. “Pata-Pikki will come. You’ll see.”

Hoopy acted on Bar-thur’s encouraging thought and howled the high-pitched cry of meeting into the sky. Soon the Forest Beings gathered around them, first a few and then many. With sadness and weeping, many who had come from the deep forest realized that several of their companions were missing.

Hoopy spoke, helped by Bar-thur and Flur-Ella. They described the cliffs to the east, their warm welcome, and gave the invitation extended by Father Mitrophan and the Wildings. 

Flur-Ella told them about the Farmer Man and that the Wildings were of the race of Mankind. She talked about the gardens, the beautiful forest beyond the magnificent Temple of the Lord, and their new understanding of His name and the One in Three.

High Horns of the Deer-Folk, the leader of the Forest Beings, spoke, “I long for a place of such beauty and peace. Let us retreat to the fortress of stone. Our people are missing and injured. To protect ourselves, we must move. It is our only hope. Where was Pata-Pikki last seen?”

Great tears filled Flur-Ella’s eyes as she spoke. “Pata-Pikki was adamant that we offer you this invitation. Hoopy and I will go back and look for him. You should leave immediately.”

Meem, the leader of the Cat-Folk, who had healing leaves tied around his tail, yowled, “Let us go now! We have our possessions with us; nothing keeps us here. The One be with you!”

“I will lead you,” gruffed Bar-thur. “Hoopy and Flur-Ella will find Pata-Pikki.” He turned to them, “Do not hesitate to follow us quickly if you can't find him.” Hoopy and Flur-Ella agreed.

Hatch cried out with whistles and peeping. “No,” Flur-Ella replied, with understanding, “You must help to show the way.”

“Do not linger,” cautioned Meem. “You, too, are in danger!”

Flur-Ella and Hoopy turned and ran back into the western forest. 

Following the stream, until it disappeared underground, the Scrufflings and Bar-thur, with Samul as their guide, traversed the twisting and turning path of the Deep Road between the canyon walls. Hoopy counted turns as they began their journey, memorizing the forks and turnings from Mihael to the tunnel. “Bar-thur, remember this,” Hoopy nudged the bear, and Bar-thur nodded, “We will need to find our way back.”

As nightfall came, they saw the now familiar opening of the cave. They entered its darkness by slipping through the narrow crack behind the fallen stone slab with a customary “Ouch” from Bar-thur.

Samul reached up and got a lamp high above in a niche close above the opening. Lighting it, he handed it to Pata-Pikki, who was surprised he hadn’t seen it and wondered if Nonna or Barthur could have reached it. They thanked their guide, who turned and disappeared back into the canyon. 

With light showing the way, they descended to the cave's sandy bottom and slept again near the underground lake, discussing the new understanding of the name of the One- The Lord Yeshua. The Holy Name of God filled them with joy, knowing now the name of He, who spoke to them, and of the Three.

Waking, they ate a hasty breakfast and continued along the Deep Road until they reached the point of their descent. Climbing, they found themselves among the Rolling Hills, with an outline of the western forest in the distance.
“Hatch, you are our guide. Find a path that will take us to the Forest Beings,” Pata-Pikki barked.

Hatch flew off Pata-Pikki’s shoulder and high into the air. The Scrufflings watched as she became a speck in the air and then was back again, fluttering about them. “This way,” she twittered as she pointed with her wing and settled on
Pata-Pikki’s shoulder.

“I don’t hear anything or see Strange Contraptors about, but we must make haste to the forests where we have cover,” Pata-Pikki barked.

In agreement, the Scrufflings kept the forest above the Rolling Hills in sight as their goal. After a half-day, they crept upwards over rocks, pulling themselves up on roots and low-hanging branches into the forest with its cover of leaf and shadow. Breathing a sigh of relief, they saw no evidence of Strange Contraptors. They were hopeful that the Narflbots had stopped their search for Nonna.

“Where to now, Hatch?” gruffled Bar-thur.

“Let’s follow the edge of the forest,” suggested Hatch to Pata-Pikki.
“It will be about a half-day journey for you on foot. I will fly high to see where we are by then,” she twittered, shaking her wings. Pata-Pikki filled them in on the details.

“We’ll find it, Hatch. Don’t worry,” barked Flur-Ella.

Hoopy looked around at the trees and shrubs about him. He needed to remember this place. Nudging Pata-Pikki, who nodded, for Pata-Pikki understood his concern. Looking behind, they lined up the landscape where they left the Deep Road with its cliffs, hoping to recognize it upon their return. Hoopy jabbed Bar-thur, who also looked and nodded.

They continued undisturbed along the forest's edge for most of the morning. Bird calls and the rustling of trees were the only sounds they heard. They stopped and drank from a small stream that fell to the hills below. A lake spread out between the mounds of sand, and strange horned, deer-like creatures drank from it. A line of trees outlined what they assumed was a continuation of the water flowing from the lake.  A soft, little breeze floated aloft, and the croaking of a large black bird sitting in a tree came from it. Pata-Pikki smiled at its rasping voice.

As evening approached, Hatch flew again high into the air to see if she recognized any landmarks. Alighting on Pata-Pikki’s shoulder, she announced, “I see a path. I noticed it on the way. It is a little further to the south. If we follow that, it will lead us to High Horns and the Forest Beings,” she trilled excitedly. Listening to Pata-Pikki’s translation, they were pleased their destination was near.

“Let’s keep moving and see how far we can get before daybreak,” Hoopy barked. Flur-Ella and Bar-thur agreed.
“Yes, finding our friends as soon as possible will be best.” woofed Pata-Pikki. His warm brown eyes lost their worry and took on a look of hope.

As they moved, they heard crickets and night birds. When the light of dawn filled the sky, Hatch, who had been riding on Pata-Pikki’s shoulder, took her head out from under her wing, shook her feathers, and looked around.
“This feels like the right place. We need to be watchful as daylight comes. A Strange Contraptor has been standing in the trees. I ran into its side, not knowing it was there. It scared me! I feel uncomfortable here,” she twittered nervously, “even though the weather is nice.” The Scrufflings paid close attention, trying to understand her.

Pata-Pikki asked, “Did you understand that?”

The group was beginning to understand Hatch’s peeping, which surprised them as they had known her for so long and had not understood. Pata-Pikki only needed to fill them in on a small portion of what she said.

As the sun rose, Bar-thur, the tallest, saw the glint of metal in the trees. “Stop!” he growled, “Look there.” He pointed into the distance. “A Strange Contraptor!”

They ducked low and crept further to the south until they could not see the machine. Moving more cautiously, Flur-Ella asked Hatch, “How far now?”

Hatch flew into the air again to get a higher perspective and soon returned. She seemed nervous, flitting her wings and tail, as she stood on Flur-Ella’s shoulder. “There is something amiss. I feel it but don’t know what it is.”

The Scrufflings refilled their water gourds, tucking them into their packs. They thanked the Farmer Man before retracing their steps along the woodland track that led back to the Homes.

Hatch, who stood on Pata-Pikki’s shoulder, trilled, “I'm so confused. Can we find the hills?” Pata-Pikki translated, and Bar-thur became pensive.

“How are we to find Father Mitrophan?” Flur-Ella whined in her uncertainty, and then added,  “We are early.”
They clambered up the forested hillside. A soft breeze ruffled Pata-Pikki’s ears as he turned north. Shortly they reached the trail that led to the Homes.

“It will be easier if we separate the food into our packs,” Flur-Ella snuffled. She opened the sack and split the contents between them. There were long orange roots and brown ones, which Flur-Ella sniffed, and divided between them. “Pick two of these. Here are white roots that smell heavenly and dried sweet fruit.” Their packs bulged with the new provisions, and they felt heartened and ready to resume their journey.

As they neared the Homes, it was late afternoon, and they discussed when Samul might appear. “We will go to the Home of The Lord Yeshua.” Pata-Pikki gruffled. As he said the name, a deep warmth spread throughout his heart and body, confirming to him, The One Who Lives and Yeshua of the Wilding was the same.  Agreeing, they walked along the lane in front of the cottages, as they drew near the great Home, its domes and spires made it easy to find, and its great height and size filled them again with awe.

As they waited, they studied the colored designs on the exterior. Wildings stood with glowings around their heads, and plants and flowers twined up the walls. The hall's beauty moved their hearts with a sense of blessing and awe. The singing was audible, while wonderfully spicy smells whispered through the cracks in the doorway. Soon Samul came out, stopping in surprise. “You are here! I was just about to fetch you for the celebration.”

Pata-Pikki bowed low and told him of Hatch’s news. Hatch explained, but she was emotional, and many peeps were not recognizable as words. They asked to speak to Father Mitrophan.

Flur-Ella piped up, “We will need a guide to the cave and the Rolling Hills again- if you can show us the way?

“I am sorrowed that your friends are in danger from the Narflbots. I will tell Father Mitrophan your story and convey that you want to speak to him.” Samul entered the large double doors and disappeared while scented smoke floated from the opening into the air around them.

Shortly, Father Mitrophan came out of the door, followed by Nonna. She rushed to them, embracing them with tears in her eyes. Turning to her father, she cried, “Surely the Forest Beings who have lost their homes can live here?”
Father Mitrophan raised his hand in blessing. “May it be blessed! You will be in our prayers as you travel. May The Lord Yeshua lead you through this difficulty, and return you to us in good health. Samul, lead them to the cave while it is still light; you will find your way from there.”

“Nonna, fill a bag with Phora for them to carry,” Father Mitrophan exclaimed.

Pata-Pikki was curious, for The One Who Lives, Yeshua, was ever on his mind, “You have provided for our needs in everything! May I ask you yet another question, Father Mitrophan?”

“Certainly; what is it, Pata-Pikki?”

“Is Yeshua in your Hall?”

“Yes! We don’t see Him like we see each other but feel His presence, direction, and love for us. Our knowledge comes from Seekers who unearth buildings existing before the Great Fire. They find information about Him. They have found that He is named Yeshua or Jesus. Yeshua means to save and deliver. These names are His. He is One of Three that act together in unison and harmony, One God and Three beings that act as One, The Father, The Son- Yeshua, and The Holy Spirit, who The Lord Yeshua has sent to us. The Holy Spirit brings life. We worship the One, as those before the Great Fire worshiped Him.”

“Before the beginning, he was with the Father, the Creator of life. Yeshua was born as a man, so He could give us a path to change our failings by confessing them. He came as a man to repair an ancient damage that created a fall of humanity and creation, falling away from love and into selfishness. He wants only to forgive, as He loves man and His creatures. He wants us to be one with Him, for God is loving, kind, and filled with care for all. Yeshua is both man and God at once. In even more ancient times, mystic foresight spoke of His coming.”

“We call Him the Lord Yeshua, or Christ, to say that He was more than a man; he was also God and the One who was sent. Sometimes we say Lord or Master in place of His Holy Name.”

Pata-Pikki understood how these people felt.  He saw Love as the key to understanding the belief of the Scrufflings and the Forest Beings, and in the way Fr. Mitrophan explained Yeshua. Yet there was more about The One Who Lives than he had known. He was awed at how much more they knew about Him. The Lord Yeshua! Christ Jesus- and a Father and Holy Spirit who are One with Him!

In his heart, he spoke to the One above him. ‘I will call You Lord now, as I am one with these folk.’ Men! Mankind- the Wildings! He was amazed to realize they were men. ‘You talk to me as a guide, a friend, and the One who loves me- and now I know your Name!’ His heart swelled with joy. This information was important! It would be a revelation to the Forest Beings and the Scrufflings!

Nonna came through the doors with a bag of small squares of Phora and gave it to Bar-thur.

Honoring their hosts, they bowed low and thanked them. With Samul, they turned towards the tunnel leading to the Deep Road and onto the Rolling Hills.

The sunlight flashed on the shiny metal cap and arm of the Wilding, who sat quietly, close to the fire. A long, white beard spilled down the front of his grey shirt and partially covered his ragged pants. The kind look on his face replaced any fear that he was Narflbot, though the hat and arm showed otherwise. He certainly was an Olding who had seen many years.

“Dear ones, come sit by the fire and warm yourselves.” He motioned with his metal hand to the fire. Patting the log on which he sat, he said, “Flur-Ella, come, sit here.” When he patted the tree truck, beautiful green moss gently curled up and spread on its surface, covering it like a cushion.

Flur-Ella looked astonished and stepped back. She looked at Pata-Pikki. He nodded to her and followed her to the log with the soft moss cushion. Hoopy and Bar-thur sat on a log opposite the fire while Bar-thur eyed the Olding suspiciously.

“You have come a long way,” the Olding said softly. “You will find perfect homes in that direction,” he said, pointing over Bar-thur’s shoulder. “But for now, wait here; someone is looking for you.”

“You must be the Farmer Man,” said Pata-Pikki. “The One Who Lives tells me, and I think the moss gives you away.” A smile played around Pata-Pikki’s dark eyes. “Nonna has told us about your ability to grow things.”

“Ah, you have found me out,” the Farmer Man laughed.

 “You are away from your home?” Hoopy asked.

“Yes, the Narflbots burned my home and fields,” the Farmer Man replied.

“You don’t seem unhappy,” Bar-thur growled.

“The One Who Lives, as you call Him, has given me other things,” the Farmer Man smiled and shrugged. “He will lead me. Good comes from what might seem bad.”

“You are thirsty. A small spring bubbles from the rock wall behind us and holds sweet water. Help yourselves. Your friend will be here soon.”

The forest friends perked up at the mention of water. Taking cups from their packs, they dipped into the crystal water, which filled a large flat stone basin. Hoopy, last in line, filled his cup and followed his companions back to the fire. “Who are we waiting for?” he asked.

The Farmer Man replied, “Be still for now. The answer will come soon enough.”

“What are the homes you spoke of?” Flur-Ella asked with a note of longing -in her snuffle. She wanted a new home terribly.

“The Lord Yeshua tells me they lie in that direction.” Cocking his head and looking up, the Farmer Man added, “Your friend is here.” They heard a flutter of sound, and looking up, they saw Hatch perching on the branch above them.

 “Oh dear, I wasn’t sure I would find you in this wilderness of rock! I am so glad to see you! We need your help, Pata-Pikki, all of you! I come from High Horns, our leader. The Narflbots have found us. They are hunting us, and already we have lost some of our friends! One of the Cat Folk and two of the rabbit clan have disappeared. We fear they will find us all. Where can we go for safety?”

“I was so tired I could not fly any farther. I stopped, and here you are. Oh my, oh, my!”

Pata-Pikki jumped to his feet. “We will help! Can you lead us to the others?  Perhaps we can all live here in peace.” He turned to the Farmer Man. “Will that be possible?”

“Father Mitrophan must give the blessing,” the Farmer Man responded quietly. 

Pata-Pikki repeated Hatch’s plea to the others. Hoopy cried out, and Bar-thur growled most frightfully. Flur-Ella cried, “Of course! We have food. If we fill our water gourds, we can march again for many days.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Pata-Pikki bowed low in front of the Farmer Man.

“The High King, the Lord Yeshua, be with you, granting your return, with length of days before you.” The Farmer Man stood and bowed low to the Forest Beings.

“I will be here when you return. My prayers travel with you.”                                         

 The scents of the forest hovered around them. Feeling joy at the touch of bark and leaf again, Bar-thur reached down, picked up a fat cone on the ground, sniffed it, and chewed it thoughtfully. “Quite tasty,” he gruffed.
“I’m hungry; let’s look in the bag,” Hoopy remarked, looking earnestly at the bulging bag in Bar-Thur’s paw and wondering what might be inside. He thought of the possibilities and drooled.
Finding a sunny clearing, they sat on a log and began to pull out the treasures that Nonna had given them. Sampling the bag's contents with smiling faces, Hoopy snuffled through his mustache with his mouth full. “What good roots!”
Flur-Ella smiled and pulled out a Scruffling stick that was in her bag. She loved Scruffling bars, especially dipped honey. She chewed happily.
A ticklish smell of beetles came to Bar-thur’s nose, a very enticing scent. His nose led him to the bottom of a nearby tree, and he began snuffling and digging around the roots.
Pata-Pikki heard a faint, sweet breeze from a deeper place in the forest. As he chewed on a long root, he listened. He half-closed his eyes and began to listen inwardly.  He saw an old Wilding in his heart, but was it a Wilding?
On the Olding’s head was a metal cap; without a doubt, he had a Narflbot metal arm, which made Pata-Pikki feel suspicious of him, but his face wore a sweet expression, and a sense of humor played around his mouth and eyes. Never had Pata-Pikki seen a Narflbot that looked so kind. He wore shabby and stained clothing and seemed someone out of the ordinary.
“Come when you are through eating, and we will talk.” The strange Wilding was talking to him! Pata-Pikki sat up with a start.
“What is it, Pata-Pikki?” woofed Flur-Ella.
“Is everyone ready to go?” Pata-Pikki asked.
“I can eat and walk,” answered Hoopy in surprise.
Looking up from the freshly dug hole under a tree and happily chewing on a root hanging from his mouth, Bar-thur snuffled, “I’m ready.” 
Flur-Ella, repacked her bag and quizzed Pata-Pikki, “Where are we going?”
“Into the trees, deeper in,” woofed Pata-Pikki, pointing with his paw, “there is a dense forest -someone there wants to talk to us.”
The Scrufflings entered a grove of deep-green trees and climbed a small hill, following a faint path. A thicket of dense, leafless trees grew below.  They entered the forest of tall white trunks with barren branches reaching skyward. Pata-Pikki stopped and listened for the breeze. In answer to his search, the breeze whispered in his ear. He turned to the left. “This way,” he woofed to the others.
The breeze was full of joy. Pata-Pikki chuckled as he walked because the wind had funny things to say. In his mind, he saw Scruffle-Pups playing, tumbling around, and rolling down a grassy hill.
“What are you laughing at, Pata-Pikki?” Flur-Ella said. “What is so funny?”
“The breeze... it was telling me something,” Pata-Pikki snuffled over his laughter. Hoopy looked at him curiously.
As they walked, the smell of smoke began to touch their noses. Breaking into deeper woods, they found a Wilding sitting on a log close to a small fire warming himself.
“Who is it?” growled Bar-thur.
“It’s an Olding,” Pata-Pikki responded. “A Wilding... do not be afraid. He wants to talk to us.”

 “Welcome to Mihael!” Father Mitrophan exclaimed to the Scrufflings as they approached through the arched doorways. Nonna introduced them by name. They bowed low in response.
The gentle, soft-spoken man took each paw in his hand and bowed in return. “We owe you our gratitude for your service to our daughter.”
With tears in her eyes, his wife, Pelagia, said, “Let us know your every need while you are here among us. We thank you for what you have sacrificed for Nonna.”
“How did you know of our coming?” woofed Pata Pikki.
“The Farmer Man told us of your approach,” responded Father Mitrophan.
“We have prepared a place of comfort with warm food and beds for you,” added the priest.
Not knowing what warm food was, the Scrufflings accepted eagerly. Food sounded delicious to the Scrufflings in any form, and a bed was most welcome; Pata-Pikki’s pack, for one, was the slimmer for their journey. Following their host and hostess, the Forest Beings proceeded along a path lined with tall trees.
“These are fruit trees,” Nonna explained. “The Farmer Man gave us small seedlings to start, and look what they have become!”
“The Narflbots destroyed his farm,” Father Mitrophan said.
“I did that!” Nonna cried out, tears flowing from her eyes.
“Partially, perhaps. I do not know. It was bound to happen. The Narflbots continually search for machines made before the Great Fire. They make everything from scrap machines,” Pelagia acknowledged.
The Scrufflings exchanged glances. They were familiar with the destruction that Narflbots brought with their machines. Abruptly, the way descended into a bright green valley. Thick-bladed grass grew for a long distance on either side. A tall bird approached, pulling a loaded cart, while the Wilding, who walked alongside, moved off the road for them. The Wilding greeted Father Mitrophan and his wife, sweeping his hat to the ground.
‘Bless Father,’ he said, making another low bow, holding out his hands for a blessing. Pata-Pikki’s eyes opened wide when the priest stopped and made the sign of The One Who Lives into the farmer’s cupped hands. Father Mitrophan beamed with joy. After they passed, the Wilding resumed his journey down the narrow road.
Pata-Pikki and Hoopy elbowed each other. The Wilding’s use of the “Secret Sign” was surprising. The tall bird neither spoke nor glanced at them, even out of curiosity. Mihael was an unusual place indeed.
Pata-Pikki whispered to Hoopy, “It is encouraging to see how they honor The One Who Lives.” Hoopy nodded in agreement.
“This fork takes us to the Temple of the one God.” Come this way, dear friends,” Father Mitrophan said. Turning down another path, they walked into a deeper valley. An enormous structure with large doorways, immeasurably tall walls, and shiny gold domes rose heavenward. Under each golden dome were decorative designs. Plant-like patterns of brilliant color and at the top was the Secret Sign itself, made from something golden. The Wildings made the Secret Sign on their chest. The Forest Beings had never seen such beauty in a home.
The pathway branched again, and soon the group walked in front of a row of cottages with grass-covered peaked roofs. The homes had brilliant patterning around doors and windows, and bright and colorful plant designs outlined the tops.
Hoopy whispered to Pata-Pikki, “The Wildings must feel safe to have their homes so exposed.”
 “Safe from the Narflbots.” Pata-Pikki nodded in agreement.
The group stopped in front of a small house at the end of the row. “This is your home, a place of rest for you.” Father Mitrophan bowed again and motioned towards the door.
The Scrufflings looked at each other in concern. Pata-Pikki stepped forward shyly. Bowing, he said, “Forgive me, Father Mitrophan, there beyond is a forest. We find that a familiar place. If we stayed there, it would be to our liking. Not that this wonderful place is not, but we are creatures of the forest.”
Father Mitrophan paused as if he was listening and then looked at the forest that lay outside of the small village. “Yes, I see. Of course! That is how the One has created you. We are different creatures. Your homes and places of worship of the One are in the forest. There are no Scrufflings in our valley, nor have we had contact with any. We have creatures here that are your close relatives, but not the same. Forgive us for our lack of understanding. Go to the forest and find homes for yourselves. Dig and burrow anywhere that seems good to you. Nonna, go into the house and get the raw vegetables and fruits. I think the forest will provide the other foods you will need.”
Nonna went through the cottage door and returned with a bulging bag which she put in Bar-thur’s paws. Flur-Ella gave a small woof of pleasure at being understood.
“We will gather this evening for the One.” Perhaps you will join us afterward and partake of the Feast. I think there are things you will find pleasing to eat. Samul will come here to fetch you at nightfall.”
Flur-Ella, speaking for all of them, bowed low and woofed, “It will be our great pleasure!”
“Thank you, dear friends, for the kindness you have shown me. I would not be here now if you had not risked lives and your homes for my safety.” Nonna embraced each of them in turn. 
Father Mitrophan held up his hand in the sign of the One and blessed them. They felt the Grace the priest imparted as if it were a warm blanket cast around them. Turning, they departed into the depth of the forest.

The Rockliffs loomed high above them as they followed the base of the cliffs, and a small stream trickled from the rock wall and followed the sandy bottom of the canyon. The group continued along a path that wound through a maze of corridors, turning back and forth on itself.
Although there were other villages of the Wildings, as the Scrufflings learned, Mihael was the largest and the village where Nonna’s family lived. The canyon became steeper, the road narrower, while peaked mountains appeared above them. The turning of the path forked. They would never have found their way without their guides. Nonna had no memory of the trail she had used to leave the village. Circling the base of the many peaked mountains, they came upon a tunnel.
“The road to Mihael,” said Basil.
“I wouldn’t have found my way home,” Nonna exclaimed.
 Pata-Pikki, still cautious, listen for the tell-tale sound of contraptors. No sounds except the occasional call of birds were apparent, as they followed the course leading from the cave. For that, he thanked The One Who Lives. “Don’t Strange Contraptors fly in this part of the canyon?” he asked.
“The cliffs may confuse the ability of the Strange Contraptors to fly,” Samul said. Samul was a tall, young Wilding with his red hair pulled back into a long tail. 
As they entered the tunnel, Basil stopped in front of a niche in the wall. Within it was a lantern, like The one they had used in the cave. He lit the candle using the striker and then prayerfully lit the lantern. He carried it with him into the darkness.
Hoopy and Flur-Ella glanced back at the sunlight and followed Samul and Nonna into the fortress of the Wildings. Bar-thur stooped as he followed along, as the ceiling was low in some places.
Outside Pata-Pikki heard the trill of bird song filling the canyon with high warbling notes. He saw a soft brown bird perched on a rock overhang. In response, Pata-Pikki echoed the warble. The tiny bird cocked his head and returned the call. Realizing his companions were almost out of sight, he whistled back and hurriedly followed. “This looks carved. Was it hollowed from the mountain?” he barked.
“Yes, artisans carved it in my grandfather’s generation. The work is astonishing,” Basil responded. The tunnel held large columns carved with elaborate designs. Gradually, daylight filtered in from an outside opening somewhere ahead, and a lush smell of green filled their noses.
Flur-Ella’s nose twitched, “Ah,” she snuffled, “I smell flowers!”
Hoopy woofed, “I love green things! It was winter where we lived. How can it not be winter here?” Bar-thur face settled into a thoughtful look at the question.
They passed through a winding tunnel section that looped back and forth across itself. Samul called out, “We’re home! Look!” He pointed ahead.
The Forest Beings stared in amazement. In front of them was the most luxurious garden they had ever seen. Rather than various plants growing randomly, the plants were in groupings. Some plants had brilliant flowers, others richly colored fruits, and some were green with tassels like tall grasses. Water ran somewhere beyond them.
“What beautiful flowers!” yipped Flur-Ella. “They smell so sweet.” Sticking her black nose into one of the giant blossoms, she sniffed and drew back in surprise at the deep sweet smell.
 “The Farmer Man gave us the flowers many years ago,” Nonna said. “We started them from small sticks and seeds.”
 “The Farmer Man grows amazing things!” woofed Pata-Pikki.
 Light poured into the beautiful garden as they walked along a sunny path. Pata-Pikki looked up to see what device filled this garden with brilliant sunlight as stone walls surrounded them. Large arched openings at its end allowed the light to flood the tunnel. The sun came pouring through an opening high in the ceiling. Bar-thur pointed to the roof. “Basil, is that a peak of the pointed mountains above us?”
“Our Grandfathers found this crater,” explained Basil. ‘They climbed down from the top and found openings already in the side wall. He who knows all sent them. Enlarging the openings, they gradually carved out the tunnel creating this natural stone fortress and connecting it to the stream and the canyon. Now there is outside access to water and an entrance into the valley from outside. You are looking at a long, wide valley surrounded by cliffs and hidden from the outside through these arched doors.”
 “Does it concern you that the Narflbots might someday fly over this area and discover the valley?” Pata-Pikki whined.
 “It is of concern,” Samul answered. “They have seemed to stop short at the beginning of the cliffs; we believe the High King protects us with the outer cliffs.”
 “Behind you, in the tunnel,” Samul announced, “is a series of doors in the ceiling. We can lower them to seal the tunnel and trap intruders inside or outside it.” Basil gave Samul a warning glance, and he fell silent.
 As they neared the end of the great room that held the garden, Nonna suddenly cried out, “Mama and Papa!” Running through one of the sun-filled arches, they saw Nonna embracing a tall man with dark greying hair and a silvery beard. His noble face was joyful as his daughter ran to him. Beside him was a beautiful woman with graying red hair.
“Oh, Momma, Poppa, please forgive me!” cried Nonna to them.
“The One forgives, and we forgive,” her Papa answered. “Thanks be to Blessed Yeshua! You are safely home!”

With the lantern light showing the way, they reached the end of the cave where a great pool of pale green water lay. Small white fish darted around in the bottom. Bar-thur looked at them hungrily. “Might I catch a fish or two?” he snuffled.
“Certainly,” said Nonna. “First, we will refresh our drinking water.”
“A most excellent idea!” gruffled Hoopy. They filled their containers with the cool, fresh water that bubbled up from the spring in the cave's sandy bottom. The lantern filled the large room with light. As they looked about them in wonder, tall stone pillars lined the chamber's walls. They were slick, damp, soft, and melty in appearance as if water had dripped on them forever.
“There should be Phora down here. Perhaps we can find it!” Nonna said, looking into the shadows. “I think I see a jar against the wall. The bread is blessed.” She pulled the tall glass jar from behind a rock and opened the stopper. Inside was something round and brown-colored.
“We do not know ‘Phora’ or ‘bread,” barked Hoopy.
“This will hearten you!” said Nonna, reaching into the jar. She pulled out a circular object with writings on it. Breaking it into pieces, she handed a portion to each.
“This is delicious,” said Flur-Ella, in confirmation. Each of them felt a lightness of heart, which the bread imparted.
“May I catch fish now?” asked Bar-thur after his eyes grew wide at the taste of the Phora. He drooled as he thought
of fish.
“Of course,” Nonna laughed, as the bear waded into the water smilingly, splashed around and came out again with two fish hanging from his mouth. The others reached into their bags and dug out roots from the forest, sharing them with Nonna. Hoopy dug a soft round hole for himself and curled up in it. They blew out the lantern and slept, well-fed, happy, and heartened by the food and the Phora.
Pata-Pikki blinked at the darkness as he awoke. He was not used to such darkness but could faintly see his companions sleeping and hear their breathing. He would like to see what it looked like outside of the cave.
Walking toward the opening of the cave, he heard sounds above him. He cautiously continued towards the entrance of the cave. The sound of someone talking continued. Reaching the opening of the cave, he stood back and listened. Daylight crept around the slab which hid the entrance. The sun was shining around the cracks of stone. The sounds came closer. Creatures were talking in a language he had never heard.
Pata-Pikki turned and raced to the bottom of the cave. “Quietly! Wake up!” he woofed, reaching out in the darkness and shaking Hoopy and Flur-Ella. They both jumped to their feet. Bar-thur was instantly awake.
“What is it?” Nonna asked, sitting up.
“Creatures are approaching the mouth of the cave. I do not recognize their speech. We should be ready. It must be the Narflbots investigating the bottom of the wash.”
“They may overlook us, but what if they discover the opening,” worried Nonna.
Stowing their belongings, Pata-Pikki gruffed, " It is daylight outside."
“I will deal with them if they come down here,” wuffled Bar-thur. “I make horrible growls; my claws are still sharp. My Great-Great-Grandfather was a fearsome bear!”
“We don’t dare use a light, Nonna,” Pata-Pikki whined.
“Flur-Ella, can I hold on to you?” Nonna asked.
“Certainly!” Flur-Ella woofed. “Come with me.”
They climbed upward toward the mouth of the cave while Nonna held on to Flur-Ella’s marsh flower jacket.
Gradually hearing the sounds that Pata-Pikki had described, they whispered. “I don’t know what they are saying. They must be right outside!” breathed Nonna. “Perhaps it is harder to hear in here?” They approached the entrance. There was enough light that Nonna could see now.
“I will attack them if they are close,” whispered Bar-thur. “When they see me, I’ll growl, and they will run. I’ll chase them back to the Rolling Hills. You start in the other direction; I will catch up once they become faster than I am,” he bumbled, with a smile playing about his lips.
“What if they have the pointing sticks that injure?” Hoopy asked.
“They will be frightened and drop their pointing sticks,” Bar-thur said with conviction.
“Maybe?” said Flur-Ella, with a quizzically worried look on her face.
“I don’t like the idea of being trapped here,” Nonna chirped. “Nor of you going out there, Bar-thur. They may not scare so easily!”
“Be careful, Bar-thur! Call us, and we’ll follow you.” Pata-Pikki growled and motioned to Hoopy, who perked up his ears.
Bar-thur sounded ferocious as he scrambled from the cave. They heard yelling from the intruders.
Pata-Pikki looked out from the rock, wondering whether Bar-thur was as frightening as he sounded. When he did, he realized the intruders were not Narflbots but something else entirely.
“Stop, Bar-thur!” he cried out in alarm. “These are Wildings. Look at their clothing!”
Bar-thur immediately stopped growling and studied the men who wore shirts and shorts of the same material as Nonna.
“Please,” said Pata-Pikki, bowing low, “accept our apologies. We thought you were Narflbots when we heard
your voices.”
The Wildings looked at Pata-Pikki in surprise. “Who are you?” the shortest among them asked, and Pata-Pikki understood what he was saying.
“We come from the West. My name is Pata-Pikki, and this is Bar-thur. I heard strange words and was sure the enemy had discovered us. Narflbots have been hunting us.”
“We were practicing the ancient language; forgive us for startling you. We search for one of our people who is missing.”
“Whom do you seek?” woofed Pata-Pikki.
“A young Wilding named Nonna. She is the daughter of our priest.”
“You seek Nonna?” Bar-thur gruffled.
“Yes, do you know of her?” again, the shorter of the two men questioned intensely. He was blonde with chin-length hair. He appeared the older of the two young Wildings.
“Nonna travels with us,” Pata-Pikki barked. Searching deep within, he wondered whether he should have shared this information, but a sense of rightness confirmed it.
“Nonna! Where is she? In the cave!” shouted the Wildings.
They rushed into the cave, and a shout of joy came from inside. Soon Nonna came out with them, accompanied by Flur-Ella and Hoopy.
“These are my friends,” Nonna cried joyfully. “They are Scrufflings. They saved me from the Narflbots, who held me captive! I owe them my life!”
“Then we owe you our hospitality and far more. My name is Basil,” said the shorter man. “This is Samul. You must come with us to Mihael as our honored guests.”
“Lead the way,” Bar-thur grinned.
 

The Scrufflings were panting with fear. Bar-thur looked at his stomach, raw from hurriedly squeezing past the fallen slab. “That was close!” Hoopy whined, panting.
Nonna turned to her companions. “You have helped me so much. I apologize for endangering you! Bar-thur is right. The Narflbots are so wicked they would make skins of you if they caught us.” Tears filled her eyes.
Pata-Pikki turned to her, “This is not your fault. Of course, we forgive you. You had no choice. We picked you up and carried you away.”
“We struggle with fear, which tries to win us with bad thoughts. I am responsible for my choices. I was wrong not to warn you of the danger. I hear many more thoughts when I am away from my homeland and become confused,” Nonna cried.
“We forgive you as The One Who Lives would want us to do,” Pata-Pikki snuffled.
Flur-Ella went up to Nonna and put her arm around her. “Thank you,” Nonna said, hanging her head.
“Can you find the spring?” Flur-Ella gruffled.
“I don’t see where the lantern is. At least one, if not more, is here somewhere,” said Nonna in frustration.
“I lied when I told you they sent me to the Farmer Man. They did not send me. I took the broken part to him to surprise everyone; plowing needs to begin. Look at the grief I have caused! I know my family is worried about me. You have been in danger because of my foolishness and have lost your homes.”
“You could not help what happened to you. I am sure your people love you,” Bar-thur replied sadly, “though it is heartbreaking to hurt someone you love.”
Nonna hung her head and cried. Flur-Ella cried with her. “I didn’t ask others. My actions hurt people who love me. I hope they can forgive me, and that you will forgive me.”
“We forgive you,” said Bar-thur.
“Yes,” said Hoopy.
A worry nagged at Pata-Pikki. “Wait here,” he whined. “I want to see what has happened with the Strange Contraptor.” Retracing their steps to the mouth of the stone cavern, he drew near the entrance. Outside, he listened to the voices of Narflbots above him. He realized they must have left footprints in the sand when they ran to the cave. Looking out of the entrance, he saw the tracks in the sand leading to the rock opening. The Narflbots would see them!
How could he erase them without being seen? To his surprise, a wind came down the floor of the canyon. Swirling in circles, it picked up sand, threw it into the air, hiding the footprints, and then continued down the dry riverbed, moving east. Pata-Pikki heard coughing, loud voices, and the scrape of metal. The Narflbots were going back into
the Whirly.
 He checked the impulse to run after the circle breeze and talk to it, as he had never seen such a wind, but the Narflbots were sure to see him. The canyons were very mysterious Pata-Pikki understood why Nonna had called it a fortress. Becoming lost in the canyon was a probability without guidance. Though the canyon floor appeared to be a straight pathway, it was confusing as they had passed turnings and branches.
Above him, he heard the Strange Contraptor starting. Dust filtered past the rock slab in front of the door. He coughed, thanking The One Who Lives for His goodness in sending the whirling wind. He descended deeper into the cave, looking for a lantern.
“There was a Strange Contraptor on the cliff above us,” Pata-Pikki barked. “They are gone. We are safe now. I searched the cave from the entrance and saw no lantern. It must be further on. Flur-Ella, lead Nonna until we find it.”
Suddenly, Flur-Ella pointed to a carved-out niche in the rock. They saw glass with a metal covering. Nearby was a bottle of something golden and a box.
“We do not have this - lantern, as you call it, Nonna. I see a glass with a metal covering. Could that be the lantern? Can you see it at all?” Pata-Pikki barked and pointed high up in the wall.
“No, I can’t see; it’s too dark,” Nonna sighed. “It sounds like a lantern.”
Bar-thur took the glass out of the niche. “It has something oily in it. There is a string coming from the top held by a wire. What should we do with it?”
“There must be a striker there, too.” Nonna laughed with relief.
Pata-Pikki nodded to Hoopy to hand Nonna the box. “Here, Nonna, can you understand this?” Hoopy gruffed.
“Yes, this is the striker.” Feeling the box, she slid it open and took out a long stick. With her finger, Nonna found a rough place on the side of the box. “Is there a candle? It will be a wax stick with a string on the top.”
“Here,” said Bar-thur, taking the candle from the rock ledge. He smelled the scent of honey in it and drooled.
Nonna ran the striker along the side of the box, and it burst into flame, illumining the cavern. She placed the striker on the candle wick, which burst into flame. Nonna looked around her. “Oh, how beautiful!” she exclaimed, gazing at the roof and walls of the cave. Nonna made the secret sign on her chest and said, “I thank you, Blessed One.”
Pata-Pikki was awed. Nonna knew the mysterious Secret of Power that The One Who Lives gives for help. “You use this sign?” he asked.
“Why yes!” said Nonna. “This is the sign of the High King.”
“Are the High King and The One Who Lives the same?” Pata-Pikki asked in surprise. “Perhaps He informs us both? Can this be true?”
“Yes, I feel this is right,” Nonna said. “The Lord, Yeshua, informs you and gives words to me. They are words that are true and filled with love. He blows where He wills and is a Mystery,” she explained with a slight shrug. Her eyes were as bright as the lantern. “When He spoke to you, I, too, heard the same affirmations. We must both hear the One.
Pata-Pikki would have to ask The One Who Lives about this. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought. He felt that Ultimate Truth and Love came to him through The One Who Lives’ words. He trusted those words as the only solution for what lay before him. The One Who Lives knew more than he did. Pata-Pikki knew it was better to ask before making choices. The closer he was to The One Who Lives, the happier he felt. Was this what Nonna was describing? The One and the High King were the same?