Priests of Ferris by Maurice Gee Page A

their turn.’
    ‘I couldn’t stop these bears if I wanted to,’ Jimmy said. ‘Look at ole Ben.’
    The other bears were used to priests, they stood waiting, patient, but the old bear was rolling his head in grief and rage. His body was swaying from side to side.
    ‘I never seen ’im like this. He’s going to charge,’ Jimmy said.
    ‘Don’t you go, Jimmy.’
    ‘Where he goes, I go. Wish me luck.’
    ‘They’ve got cross-bows.’
    Jimmy gripped his axe. ‘An’ I got this.’ He went into the bush, moving along the edge of the bluff, and a moment later Susan saw him in the trees at the edge of the sand. The five Varg spread out on either side. Then they waited. Waited for old Ben.
    Up on the bluff Dawn drew the others back into the bush. ‘Hide yourselves. When his rage bursts out he will kill whatever he sees.’
    They lay and watched Ben. And at last something broke in the old bear. The shock of it lifted him, propelled him forward over the bluff, roaring. The children ran to the edge and saw him ploughing down, braced on his legs, spraying stones and dust out on both sides. Jimmy and the Varg were charging across the beach, and the priests were scattering, some for the bush, others for the water. Two or three managed to load their cross-bows as they ran.
    Dawn and Susan did not stay to watch. They went back into the bush, and Nick joined them a moment later, his face pale. They stood in the trees listening to the fight – a roaring of bears, a shrieking of men, and now and then the twanging of a bow string – until at last it fell to isolated shouts and cries of pain. Limpy came running through the trees. He too was pale but his eyes were gleaming. ‘It’s over. They’re all dead.’
    ‘All of them?’
    ‘Every one. They never had a chance.’
    ‘Is Jimmy all right?’
    ‘Yes. One of the bears is dead.’
    ‘Not Ben?’
    ‘No. We’ll wait here a while. The bears are feasting.’
    They waited until they heard Jimmy calling, then followed Ben’s path, sliding down the bluff. The bears had dragged the remains of the priests into the bush. They were digging in the sand above the tide line, making a grave for their dead companion. He had taken a cross-bow bolt in his throat. When the grave was ready they rolled him in and laid the bear skins on him for burial too. The children picked up broken Ferris bones and took them to the grave.
    ‘They’re human bones, Jimmy. Can we put them in?’
    They filled the grave and stood by it for a moment, not knowing what to do. But Susan saw how peaceful the bay would be when they had gone – a good place for the final resting. She wished the priests could have been buried too.
    ‘I wouldn’t mind havin’ me own grave here,’ Jimmy said.
    They sat on the sand while the bears swam, washing blood from their fur.
    ‘Where do we go tomorrow, Jimmy?’
    ‘Up the coast.’
    ‘We’ve lost half a day coming here,’ Limpy said.
    ‘Not if you’re as good a sailor as you say.’ He nodded at the priests’ boat, anchored off the beach. ‘Do you reckon you could take ’er out?’
    Limpy looked at the boat, rising and falling on the gentle waves. ‘She’s got a triple hull. She’s built for speed.’
    ‘Well?’
    ‘I can sail her.’
    ‘Will she take all of us?’
    ‘She took twelve priests.’
    ‘O.K. You’re the captain. You’d better go and have a look at your ship.’
    Limpy and Nick and Susan swam out to the boat. Limpy checked the rigging and ropes and Nick and Susan the supplies. They dropped most of the priests’ belongings overboard. Susan found an image of her, with eagle wings outspread and a look of foolish holiness on her face. It made her shiver and she threw it overboard with the rest. But she kept a little book of her ‘sayings’. ‘Listen, Nick. “Those who believe in me shall fly in Earth, but the unbeliever shall fall and a breaking of bones shall be his punishment.” ’
    ‘When are you supposed to have said that?’
    She