that she could be quite resourceful. She shoved a log over to the edge of the mud hole with her head. Then I had to walk out on the log, tie the rope around both of Tennial’s horns and then walk back along the log. All was going well until Tennial lurched while I was on the log and I went flying up into the air, then splat right into the mud. Fortunately for me I landed near the edge, so I scrabbled out without assistance. Well I thought my fur would never be the same after that. Oh how was I ever going to wash out that sulfurous slime? Well anyway, Zornova pulled Tennial out, though it did take some time, for Tennial is a large bison.
“Blinkers, you can climb down now,” Zornova repeated.
Oh me, I must have closed my eyes again. I often do that when I go bison-back riding. I close my eyes so I won’t think about falling off. And when I close my eyes I don’t pay attention any more. And it has happened again, and Zornova is standing patiently in front of the Geyser District headquarters, waiting for me to climb down from her back. Oh I am such a scaredy-tourist. I am surely no thrill seeker, not me.
I followed Zornova up the steps, through the outer office into her large office. Though bison, in general, are afraid of fire (they tend to stampede), Zornova maintained her calm demeanor. She stood behind a large table scanning the reports scattered over most of its surface.
“Blinkers,” she said, “go check with Thimblewicket to find out if any new reports have come in since these arrived. Also, see if you can find Rittiticket so he can help Thimblewicket with the flurry of dispatches,” she added.
“Yes Zornova, I will certainly do that, I will check with Thimblewicket, I will find Rittiticket to help Thimblewicket. I will do all of what you say right away; I will do it this very instant, I will get right on it . . .”
“Blinkers!” Zornova bellowed.
She seldom roared. What could have put her out of sorts I wonder?
“Yes, Zornova,” I replied, trying not to let on how hurt I was that she had bellowed at me. “What do you want?”
“Blinkers you seem to be standing still when we have many urgent demands upon us.” Zornova spoke much more calmly now.
“Yes Zornova.” I had almost forgotten about the fire, Thimblewicket, Rittiticket and all that. I had not realized that I was wringing my paws again and that my feet had not moved even one inch closer to the door. “Oh, I am so sorry, I must apologize Zornova. I am so ashamed of myself, at a time like this, for acting as though my feet are nailed to the floor like I have.”
“Blinkers!”
I was finally able to move and I soon found that my legs had taken me down the hall to dispatch central. Thimblewicket thrust a paw full of hastily scribbled messages at me through an open window, then slammed down the window and continued writing furiously. I went straight back to Zornova’s office and laid the messages out carefully in the order that they had arrived. Oh, but they were such a mess of scribbles. This will never do, I said to myself, I must make up a memo about penanimalship for the office staff. Really there is no excuse for such messy writing. As I was mentally composing my memo on penanimalship I hurried back out of the headquarters building, across the open yard in front of the district headquarters towards Rittiticket’s tree stump.
“Rittiticket, are you home? Rittiticket! Oh Rittiticket wake up and come out here!” I shouted down his hole as loudly as I could.
Soon a grumpy, sleepy-eyed Rittiticket peered out into the bright, though quickly darkening, day
“What’s the ruckus? What’s all this yelling and shouting about? I say Blinkers, you had best mind your manners or I’ll file a complaint. Just because you are district secretary—well you have no special rights,” he sputtered.
“Rittiticket, do be quiet,” I snapped self-righteously. “This is an emergency. There is no time at all for complaints and making nasty faces like that. Zornova sent me to fetch you. You must come help Thimblewicket, for there is a great fire and she is being overwhelmed with dispatches; you should just see the awful scribbling she has sent Zornova. Really there is no excuse for such poor penanimalship.”
But before I could finish all that I had to say Rittiticket had skittered past me, as fast as he could, towards the district headquarters. Meanwhile the sky had become blacker and ash was beginning to drift down from above. Deer, porcupines, bison, elk, ground squirrels, and others were engaged in a flurry of activity. Pudge, the marmot, was busy tying shovel attachments to the hooves of bison and elk. These bison and elk would attempt to dig a shallow trench to stop the fire. Deer were packed with top priority files from the ranger headquarters and sent on their way to a temporary headquarters. We had just learned that a wind shift had occurred; we were now directly in the path of the surging, uncoiling flames. Squirrels and jays were sent to hurry the evacuation of the immediate vicinity, to warn all of the forest dwellers that they must leave at once. Soon though, I was back at my desk writing messages that Zornova was dictating over the intercom.
Since all of the messages, in and out, went through me I was beginning to get a picture of how widespread the damage was. The fire was now engulfing three districts; at least twenty percent of Lake, Potholes, and Geyser districts were burning or already blackened. The weather forecast called for more wind towards evening, and we had not had rainfall for three weeks, except for that light drizzle the day of our committee meeting, so the prospect for a quick end to the fire was not good. Zornova worked swiftly and efficiently directing the evacuation of the dead and wounded; she provided instructions for fire fighting parties, and calmly provided leaders for those who must flee or be consumed by the inferno. Even now gusts of wind spread ashes and set dust devils swirling across the clearing outside the station. Thirty-four thousand acres had already been consumed.
“Blinkers!” came through the intercom from Zornova’s offices. “The fire may soon reach us. It is time for us to pack up and leave. I have sent for Cawdor to lead the office staff safely away from the blaze. Blinkers, you and I have another task, so we will not be traveling with the rest of the office staff.”
“Yes, Zornova,” I answered, knowing that this would undoubtedly involve more bison-back riding. I walked, as calmly as I could, from my office down the hall past other offices; I stopped at each office to ask all office staffers to assemble on the front porch. Once they were assembled, I announced that it was time to leave and that Cawdor would lead them to safety.
Soon Thimblewicket, Rittiticket, Pudge, and others were moving quickly along the narrow trail leading westward towards Trout Lake. Cawdor flew above the fleeing office workers, cawing as he went to assure them that the way was clear. Zornova is such a good leader, she had remained calm and in control in spite of this horrendous calamity. There had been minimal panic because Zornova’s quiet strength gave everyone confidence and hope.
Flames were now visible atop Marmot Ridge; they would soon engulf the ranger station here in Prairie Dog Vale. I was just about to fetch Zornova when she emerged through the doors.
“Look Zornova,” I wailed, “the fire has reached the ridge top and it will soon be upon us.”
Zornova ignored my fear. “Get back aboard, Blinkers,” she said calmly “I still need your help. Skeezer, Rutorina, and the other skunks in Dozema’s skaggle are traditionalists, so in spite of the fire they are stubbornly following their practice of silently mourning the deceased for two days. They are in immediate danger, and we are the only ones available to rescue them.
I clamored up onto Zornova’s shaggy back. Skunks! Wouldn’t you just know
