On a Morning Like This Chapter 10 Voices

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.