"Jane Yolen - The White Babe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yolen Jane)

moment of pain. But at her death the child cried out, a high thin wailing. The cat, startled, dropped its
prey and looked about uneasily.
An arrow took it in the eye, its death more painful than the midwifeтАЩs. It whimpered and trembled for
several moments before one of the hunters cut its throat in pity.
The babe in the tree cried out again and the entire wood seemed to still at the sound.
тАЬWhat was that?тАЭ asked the heavier of the two hunters, the one who had cut the catтАЩs throat. They
were both kneeling over the dead woman seeking in vain for a pulse.
тАЬPerhaps the lion had cubs and they are hungry?тАЭ
тАЬDo not be foolish, Marjo, this early in spring?тАЭ
The thinner hunter shrugged her shoulders.
The child, uncomfortable in its makeshift cradle, cried out again.
The hunters stood.
тАЬThat is no lion cub,тАЭ said Marjo.
тАЬBut cub nonetheless,тАЭ said her companion.
They went to the tree as unerringly as woodsense could lead them and found the babe.
тАЬAltaтАЩs Hairs!тАЭ said the first hunter. She took the child from the tree, unwrapped it, and gazed at its
smooth, fair-skinned body.
Marjo nodded. тАЬA girl, Selna.тАЭ
тАЬBless you,тАЭ whispered Selna, but whether she spoke to Marjo or to the dead midwife or to the ears
of Alta, high and far away, was not clear.
They buried the midwife and it was a long and arduous task for the ground was still part frozen. Then
they skinned the cat and wrapped the babe in its warm skin. The child settled into her new wrapping and
fell asleep at once.
тАЬShe was meant for us,тАЭ said Selna. тАЬShe does not even wrinkle her nose at the cat smell.тАЭ
тАЬShe is too young to wrinkle her nose.тАЭ
 Selna ignored the remark and gazed at the child. тАЬIt is true, then, what the villagers say, When a dead
tree falls, it carries with it a live one.тАЭ
тАЬYou speak too often with anotherтАЩs mouth,тАЭ said Marjo. тАЬAnd a village mouth at that.тАЭ
тАЬAnd you speak with mine.тАЭ
They were silent after that, neither saying a word as they trotted along the familiar paths toward the
mountains and home.


They expected no grand reception at their return and got none, though their coming had been
remarked by many hidden watchers. They signaled their secret names with careful hand signs at every
appointed place, and the guardians of each of those turnings melted back into the forest or the seemingly
impenetrable rockface without a sound.
What messages, what bits of news were passed to them as they traveled through the night came to
them in the form of bird song or the howling fall of a wolfs call, where bird and wolf were not. It told
them they were welcome and recognized and one particular cry told them to bring their bundle at once to
the great hall. They understood, though no words, no human words, were exchanged.
But before they reached the hall, the moon slipped down behind the western mountains and Marjo
bade farewell to her companion and disappeared.
Hefting the child in its cat cloak, Selna whispered, тАЬTill evening, then.тАЭ But she said it so softly, the
child in her arms did not even stir.

The Song:

Lullabye to the Cat's Babe