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long strands. When the last hank lay upon the ground there stretched out behind them a trail of fur
sufficient to fill a couple of goodsized mattresses. Mudge was bare-ass bald again.
Yet new bristles were already starting to appear on his back. By nightfall his coat had grown back to
normal.
 Maybe we ll wake up in the mornin an I ll be meself again, he said hopefully as he wrapped himself
in a light bedroll.
 I m sure you will. Weegee patted him soothingly.  It s been a terrible couple of days for you but I bet
the infection s run its course. You ve lost it all, had it come back in multiples, lost that and regained it
again. Surely nothing else can happen. She lay down next to him.
The main problem with jungle trekking, Jon-Tom reflected, was that you sweated all the time. Not that it
mattered to anyone but him, since odor was an accepted bodily condition in this world. But he wasn t
used to smelling as strongly as Mudge, say, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore his own
intensifying aroma.
For a change he was the first one up. The camp was silent. Weegee slept comfortably on her side and
Cautious lay on his belly not far away. But where was Mudge? Had the otter wandered off in a fit of
depression and perhaps fallen into one? The cycle of too much fur-none at all had stressed his stubby
companion considerably. A quick inspection of the camp revealed no sign of the otter.
 Weegee. He shook her firmly.  Wake up, Weegee.
She sat up fast. Otters do not awaken gradually.  What s wrong, Jon-Tom?
 Mudge has disappeared.
She was on her feet fast and he moved to wake Cautious.
 Ain t here. The raccoon turned a slow circle.  Wonder what happened to him, you bet.
 He s always hungry, said a worried Weegee.  Maybe he s just gone berry hunting or something. Let s
shout his name simultaneously and see what happens.
 Right. Jon-Tom cupped his hands to his mouth.  All together now: one, two, three....
 MUDGE!
This provoked an immediate response, but not from a distant section of forest.  Will you lot kindly shut
up so a body can finish  is bleedin sleep?
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The voice seemed to come from close by, but though they searched carefully there was no sign of its
source.
 Mudge? Mudge, where are you? Weegee looked up at Jon-Tom.  Has he gone invisible?
 No, I ain t gone invisible, the otter groused.  You ve all gone blind is wot.
Jon-Tom nodded to his left.  I think he s sleeping under that flower bed over there. Sure enough, when
he walked over and parted the blossoms a pair of angry brown eyes glared back at him, blinking sleepily.
 Gone deaf, too. I said I were tryin to catch up on me sleep, mate. Do I boot you out o bed when
you re sleepin late?
Jon-Tom took a deep breath as he stepped back.  I think you d better take a good look at yourself,
Mudge.
 Cor, wot is it this time? The flower bed sat up slowly.  No fur? Too much fur? He glanced
downward and his voice became an outraged squeak.  Oh me god, now wot s  appened to me?
What had happened was as obvious as it was unprecedented. During the night Mudge s fur had returned
to its normal length and consistency but with one notable exception. The slight thickening they had
noticed at the tip of each bristle had blossomed into well, into blossoms. Each bristle was tipped with a
brightly hued flower. Other than being a bit thicker and tougher than most, the petals appeared perfectly
flower-like.
Weegee found more than a dozen different types.  Daisies, bluebells, yellowlips, murcockles, redbells,
twoclovers why Mudge, you re beautiful. And you smell nice, too.
 I don t want to be beautiful! I don t want to smell nice! The apoplectic otter was dancing in an angry
circle and waving his arms at the injustice of it all. Petals flew off him as he flailed at the air. He looked
like a piece of a Rose Parade float making a break for freedom. Eventually he ran out of steam and
settled down in a disconsolate lump a very pretty lump, Jon-Tom mused.
 Woe is me. Wot s to become o poor Mudge?
 Take it easy. Jon-Tom put an arm around a flowered shoulder. A happy bee buzzed busily atop one
ear.  I m sure this conditon will pass quickly just like all the others. And to think you re always calling me
a blooming idiot.
Mudge let out a shriek and charged his friend, but Jon-Tom had anticipated the attack and dodged out
of the way. Normally Mudge would have run him down, but he was so encumbered by his floral fur that
Jon-Tom was able to elude him.
 Vicious, he mumbled.  Vicious an evil an sarcastic, you grinnin ape. He looked down at himself,
spreading his arms.  Positively  umiliatin .
 Look at it this way, Jon-Tom told him from a safe distance,  if we have to hide from any pursuers
you re already perfectly camouflaged.
 Jokes.  Ere I m sufferin terrible an me best friend  as to make jokes.
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Jon-Tom put his chin in hand and studied the otter with exaggerated seriousness.  I don t know whether
we should have you mowed or fertilized.
Even Weegee was not immune.  Don t worry, dearest. I ll make sure to water you twice a week. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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