The following spring, as Karr was dashing through the forest one
morning, he heard some one behind him calling: "Karr! Karr!"
He turned and saw an old fox standing outside his lair.
"You must tell me if the humans are doing anything for the forest," said
the fox.
"Yes, you may be sure they are!" said Karr. "They are working as hard as
they can."
"They have killed off all my kinsfolk, and they'll be killing me next,"
protested the fox. "But they shall be pardoned for that if only they
save the forest."
That year Karr never ran into the woods without some animal's asking if
the humans could save the forest. It was not easy for the dog to answer;
the people themselves were not certain that they could conquer the
moths. But considering how feared and hated old Kolmården had always
been, it was remarkable that every day more than a hundred men went
there, to work. They cleared away the underbrush. They felled dead
trees, lopped off branches from the live ones so that the caterpillars
could not easily crawl from tree to tree; they also dug wide trenches
around the ravaged parts and put up lime-washed fences to keep them out
of new territory. Then they painted rings of lime around the trunks of
trees to prevent the caterpillars leaving those they had already
stripped. The idea was to force them to remain where they were until
they starved to death.
The people worked with the forest until far into the spring. They were
hopeful, and could hardly wait for the caterpillars to come out from
their eggs, feeling certain that they had shut them in so effectually
that most of them would die of starvation.
But in the early summer the caterpillars came out, more numerous than
ever.
They were everywhere! They crawled on the country roads, on fences, on
the walls of the cabins. They wandered outside the confines of Liberty
Forest to other parts of Kolmården.
"They won't stop till all our forests are destroyed!" sighed the people,
who were in great despair, and could not enter the forest without
weeping.
Karr was so sick of the sight of all these creeping, gnawing things that
he could hardly bear to step outside the door. But one day he felt that
he must go and find out how Grayskin was getting on. He took the
shortest cut to the elk's haunts, and hurried along--his nose close to
the earth. When he came to the tree stump where he had met Helpless the
year before, the snake was still there, and called to him:
"Have you told Grayskin what I said to you when last we met?" asked the
water-snake.
Karr only growled and tried to get at him.
"If you haven't told him, by all means do so!" insisted the snake. "You
must see that the humans know of no cure for this plague."
"Neither do you!" retorted the dog, and ran on.
Karr found Grayskin, but the elk was so low-spirited that he scarcely
greeted the dog. He began at once to talk of the forest.
"I don't know what I wouldn't give if this misery were only at an end!"
he said.
"Now I shall tell you that 'tis said you could save the forest." Then
Karr delivered the water-snake's message.
"If any one but Helpless had promised this, I should immediately go into
exile," declared the elk. "But how can a poor water-snake have the power
to work such a miracle?"
"Of course it's only a bluff," said Karr. "Water-snakes always like to
pretend that they know more than other creatures."
When Karr was ready to go home, Grayskin accompanied him part of the
way. Presently Karr heard a thrush, perched on a pine top, cry:
"There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest! There goes Grayskin,
who has destroyed the forest!"
Karr thought that he had not heard correctly, but the next moment a hare
came darting across the path. When the hare saw them, he stopped,
flapped his ears, and screamed:
"Here comes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest!" Then he ran as fast
as he could.
"What do they mean by that?" asked Karr.
"I really don't know," said Grayskin. "I think that the small forest
animals are displeased with me because I was the one who proposed that
we should ask help of human beings. When the underbrush was cut down,
all their lairs and hiding places were destroyed."
They walked on together a while longer, and Karr heard the same cry
coming from all directions:
"There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the forest!"
Grayskin pretended not to hear it; but Karr understood why the elk was
so downhearted.
"I say, Grayskin, what does the water-snake mean by saying you killed
the one he loved best?"
"How can I tell?" said Grayskin. "You know very well that I never kill
anything."
Shortly after that they met the four old elk--Crooked-Back,
Antler-Crown, Rough-Mane, and Big-and-Strong, who were coming along
slowly, one after the other.
"Well met in the forest!" called Grayskin.
"Well met in turn!" answered the elk.
"We were just looking for you, Grayskin, to consult with you about the
forest."
"The fact is," began Crooked-Back, "we have been informed that a crime
has been committed here, and that the whole forest is being destroyed
because the criminal has not been punished."
"What kind of a crime was it?"
"Some one killed a harmless creature that he couldn't eat. Such an act
is accounted a crime in Liberty Forest."
"Who could have done such a cowardly thing?" wondered Grayskin.
"They say that an elk did it, and we were just going to ask if you knew
who it was."
"No," said Grayskin, "I have never heard of an elk killing a harmless
creature."
Grayskin parted from the four old elk, and went on with Karr. He was
silent and walked with lowered head. They happened to pass Crawlie, the
adder, who lay on his shelf of rock.
"There goes Grayskin, who has destroyed the whole forest!" hissed
Crawlie, like all the rest.
By that time Grayskin's patience was exhausted. He walked up to the
snake, and raised a forefoot.
"Do you think of crushing me as you crushed the old water-snake?" hissed
Crawlie.
"Did I kill a water-snake?" asked Grayskin, astonished.
"The first day you were in the forest you killed the wife of poor old
Helpless," said Crawlie.
Grayskin turned quickly from the adder, and continued his walk with
Karr. Suddenly he stopped.
"Karr, it was I who committed that crime! I killed a harmless creature;
therefore it is on my account that the forest is being destroyed."
"What are you saying?" Karr interrupted.
"You may tell the water-snake, Helpless, that Grayskin goes into exile
to-night!"
"That I shall never tell him!" protested Karr. "The Far North is a
dangerous country for elk."
"Do you think that I wish to remain here, when I have caused a disaster
like this?" protested Grayskin.
"Don't be rash! Sleep over it before you do anything!"
"It was you who taught me that the elk are one with the forest," said
Grayskin, and so saying he parted from Karr.
The dog went home alone; but this talk with Grayskin troubled him, and
the next morning he returned to the forest to seek him, but Grayskin was
not to be found, and the dog did not search long for him. He realized
that the elk had taken the snake at his word, and had gone into exile.
On his walk home Karr was too unhappy for words! He could not understand
why Grayskin should allow that wretch of a water-snake to trick him
away. He had never heard of such folly! "What power can that old
Helpless have?"
As Karr walked along, his mind full of these thoughts, he happened to
see the game-keeper, who stood pointing up at a tree.
"What are you looking at?" asked a man who stood beside him.
"Sickness has come among the caterpillars," observed the game-keeper.
Karr was astonished, but he was even more angered at the snake's having
the power to keep his word. Grayskin would have to stay away a long long
time, for, of course, that water-snake would never die.
At the very height of his grief a thought came to Karr which comforted
him a little.
"Perhaps the water-snake won't live so long, after all!" he thought.
"Surely he cannot always lie protected under a tree root. As soon as he
has cleaned out the caterpillars, I know some one who is going to bite
his head off!"
It was true that an illness had made its appearance among the
caterpillars. The first summer it did not spread much. It had only just
broken out when it was time for the larvae to turn into pupae. From the
latter came millions of moths. They flew around in the trees like a
blinding snowstorm, and laid countless numbers of eggs. An even greater
destruction was prophesied for the following year.
The destruction came not only to the forest, but also to the
caterpillars. The sickness spread quickly from forest to forest. The
sick caterpillars stopped eating, crawled up to the branches of the
trees, and died there.
There was great rejoicing among the people when they saw them die, but
there was even greater rejoicing among the forest animals.
From day to day the dog Karr went about with savage glee, thinking of
the hour when he might venture to kill Helpless.
But the caterpillars, meanwhile, had spread over miles of pine woods.
Not in one summer did the disease reach them all. Many lived to become
pupas and moths.
Grayskin sent messages to his friend Karr by the birds of passage, to
say that he was alive and faring well. But the birds told Karr
confidentially that on several occasions Grayskin had been pursued by
poachers, and that only with the greatest difficulty had he escaped.
Karr lived in a state of continual grief, yearning, and anxiety. Yet he
had to wait two whole summers more before there was an end of the
caterpillars!
Karr no sooner heard the game-keeper say that the forest was out of
danger than he started on a hunt for Helpless. But when he was in the
thick of the forest he made a frightful discovery: He could not hunt any
more, he could not run, he could not track his enemy, and he could not
see at all!
During the long years of waiting, old age had overtaken Karr. He had
grown old without having noticed it. He had not the strength even to
kill a water-snake. He was not able to save his friend Grayskin from his
enemy.