| Three
A week later, and an epidemic was sweeping across Woogieville. The OggaBerry crop had been so low that many were left fighting for just a few. Already, some of the more unfortunate woogies had exploded into gaseous clouds. The Archbishop and the King were working day and night on a solution. That is, the Archbishop was working and the King was being annoying, but in that very innocent way where he didn’t actually realise. The boy was confused. He knew of the need for OggaBerries, but he hadn’t eaten any for nearly a year and felt absolutely fine. Maybe he really was a freak. He’d been teased at school because he only had fur on his head, but the King had always just said to ignore it because someday he would be able to fix their taxes someday. The boy loved his father, and was worried that he was having a lot of problem finding a solution. It seemed obvious to him that someone just needed to go to the Crag, and get the wizard to stop whatever it was that the Archbishop thought he was doing. But even he could see that most of his fellow woogies were too scared to venture even outside their own front doors most of the time. So an idea was growing in his mind. And he soon decided that it would be best if he were to just get on with it. Being an evil dark Lord, Hamish was, at that moment, having a nap, and so missed the last sighting of the boy in the MirrorMere before he disappeared into the undergrowth of the jungle which covered so much of the island. Of course, even if he had, he probably wouldn't have worried too much. In the jungle it was said that there lived strange things. For instance, there was the Lesser Spotted Broungary, which looked like a kangaroo crossed with a monkey, but liked to attempt to beat itself to death with a palm leaf. Whilst laughing hysterically. Or the Dickyboolah, the most intelligent tortoise known to man (or of course, woogie). There were many other possibly dangerous beasts as well, like the mythical Deemilar, which none had seen but many claimed to have heard roaring way off in the night. And then there was the dreaded Janibee, which was like a normal bee but twenty times the size, and for some reason was always very grumpy, and so not a good thing to cross. The boy knew of all these things, and many more which, for good reasons, I am not allowed to tell you about here. But he was not afraid. He knew of one other type of legendary creature that was said to live in the jungle, and these ones were the ones he was looking for. When the boy had been at school, he studied, like everybody does, the history of his people and the place in which they lived. These are of course very good things to study, because it’s always nice to know where you came from and what you are all about. Plus, knowing the right thing to say always makes teachers happy. The Woogies had a long and mostly boring history, but every now and again something fantastic had happened that teachers could write really good exam questions about. One such story was of a group of young woogies who, in the days before all woogies became very timid people, were actually quite brave. One day, some of them had decided it would be a brave thing to go and search the jungle around their village, to see what they could find to be brave around. So they said goodbye to their mothers and headed off into the jungle. But they were never heard of again. However, it was said that they had founded their own city, the Lost City of the Woogies, deep on the other side of the jungle, and every now and again someone would say that they had seen smoke rising out of the trees very far away, as if there was a fire out there. The boy knew all about these brave woogies, although he did not actually know if there really was a Lost City, or whether it was just a story made up to stop young woogies from running off into the jungle on their own. But he had a feeling – not a bad feeling like Hamish had, but a good feeling – that if he could find some of these woogies, they would be brave enough to help him get to the Crag and face down the wizard and his forces of darkness. Well not quite darkness, more of a greyish-blue – Hamish was scared of the dark. This was, all in all, actually quite a good plan. But as he got further and further into the jungle and a few days went by, and the food in the little sack he had brought with him started to get smaller and smaller, the boy felt his excitement starting to fade. Every now and again he would hear a very faint explosion far behind him, and this told him that the Woogies had not yet discovered a solution. Time was running out. Truth be told, the boy was starting to realise that he didn’t even really know what he was looking for. He had an idea that he should try and find something called the Lost Pyramid, which was supposed to be the last place these wild woogies were known to have been, all those years ago. But, as the name suggests, nobody knew where this actually was. So he pushed on through the dark undergrowth, as now he was so far on in he didn’t really have any choice other than to keep on going. Now, a feeling was starting to come over him, and this one was not a good one. He began to get the feeling he was not alone. He thought he could hear rustlings all around him, and every now and again, he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, but it always disappeared whenever he turned to see what it was. Feeling slightly less brave than usual, he began, and a strange sound like low thunder began to come from all around him. As he ran on it got closer and closer, and he was starting to panic. He was panicking so much he didn’t see something right in front of him, and so he tripped and fell violently forwards. The sound overtook him until it was right in front, and he slowly looked up, expecting the worst. Above him stood a broungary. As I told you earlier, broungaries are very strange animals. There were never that many of them around, and they did not live together, but as soon as they were old enough to bounce, were left to bounce around on their own. For you and I, this would not be a nice thing, but broungaries liked to be alone because it meant no one could see them as they made up silly things to do. This particular broungary was holding an Australian wibbleboard and grinning like a madman. A wibbleboard is a long piece of very flexible wood that made a funny noise if you wibble it the right way between your hands. If you aren’t sure, ask a grown up. Grown ups have many uses, but the best one is to explain things you’re not sure about, because they will tell you as much as they can so that they can feel clever. The broungary leered at the boy, who was struggling to his feet. “Tie me dickyboolah down, rugby!” he cackled. Broungaries very rarely make any sense. So he walloped the boy over the head with his wibbleboard, and bounded off into the trees, laughing like a maniac. Rubbing his head, the boy tried to work out what had just happened. Looking around, he realised he really did not have any idea what direction to go now. He looked around to see what he had tripped over – and gasped. There, behind him, was the Lost Pyramid. It was about as high as his knee. It was just then that the Wild Woogies (well most of them, some were on a toilet break) who had been watching the boy all this time, fell out of their tree. |
| ©2005 Peter Huey |