Guardians of Ga'Hoole 10 - The Coming of Hoole

decided to transcribe the bhags into books with pages written on the cured hides of the small animals. So now, before eating, they skinned whatever rabbit or rat or mouse they ate. It was an odd diet not having the fur and the skin, but the brothers were accustomed to making sacrifices.
    Theo thought of all this as he smothered the fires while carefully putting aside the live coals in small, specially forged iron boxes that would keep them hot.
    And for the first time in the months since Grank had been on the island, smoke did not curl up into the air above the tree and the hollow where he lived.
    “Inside, Hoole! Immediately!” Grank said.
    “But I just got out here!” Hoole was perched on the tipof a branch. “You promised, Uncle Grank, that today would be the day for branching. My first flight feathers, remember? At last I have budged them.”
    “Back in the hollow,” Theo said sharply.
    This stunned Hoole. They never spoke this way to him. What had he done wrong—already? All he ever thought about was flying and now it was to be his first time and they hadn’t even let him out on a branch! He must have messed up. But how? He poked his beak out a tiny bit.
    “In!” Grank hissed.
    Hoole had caught a glimpse of something flying overhead. He heard a stirring in the thinner branches high in the tree. Was some owl actually landing here? Incredible! Except for Grank and Theo, he hadn’t ever seen any other owls.
    Of course, the damping down of the fires had been in vain. Theo had smothered the fires only three days before, and now a brother was arriving at their campsite.

CHAPTER FOUR
The Encounter
    I t was useless trying to conceal Hoole in the hollow. The Glauxian Brother, a Boreal Owl who called himself Brother Berwyck, was a burly jolly bird. Not only had he spotted Grank and Theo, but he had seen Hoole peeking out of the hollow.
    “Now, that’s a fine young lad. And just got your flight feathers, eh? Try any branching yet?”
    “I was just about to.” Disappointment flooded Hoole’s eyes.
    “Oh, and then I came along and spoiled all the fun. Well, why don’t you give it a try, young’un.”
    It was hard not to like Berwyck and even harder to be suspicious of such a gregarious and glad-spirited owl. So after instructions from all three of them, Hoole began to branch. He stepped tentatively off the larger branch to a smaller one just below. Then another and another without the merest trace of hesitation. Soon, he was going forthe wider-spaced branches, feeling with delight that split second when there was nothing but air between him and the ground.
    “I say, you’ve got yourself a fine lad, there. Going to be a real flier, that son of yours.”
    Should I correct him? Grank thought. But before he could even think of a reply, Hoole said, “He’s my uncle. Right, Uncle Grank?” This startled Grank for he had never told Hoole what had become of his parents or that he was not exactly his real uncle. He had always told him “just call me Uncle Grank.” As far as Grank knew, Hoole had no real sense of what a mum or da was, or a son for that matter, as opposed to a nephew.
    “Yes, that’s right, Hoole. I am your uncle.” Then he gave a quick look to Brother Berwyck and whispered, “Sad story.”
    “Oh, yes,” Berwyck whispered back. “So many chicks have lost parents in this fool war.”
    Hoole was too busy trying the latest branching tricks to pay any attention to this grown-up talk.
    While Hoole continued his branching practice under Theo’s watchful eye, Grank and Berwyck talked. Berwyck told Grank that he had seen the smoke some days before but hadn’t had time to come explore its source until now.
    “Oh, yes…well, I keep some live coals about,” Grank was explaining. “Harvested them from a forest fire in the Southern Kingdoms some time back.”
    “You collect coals, eh?” Berwyck responded with a puzzled look.
    “Er…uh, yes, I do. Funny little habit I picked up. I find them amusing.”
    “Amusing?” Berwyck lifted the dark feather tufts above his eyes. “Curious.”
    “Yes, they are curious…or rather, I’m curious…er…uh…yes. I’m a bit…” Grank was no good in situations like this. And although it wasn’t outright lying, he wasn’t much of a fibber, either. He knew that this Boreal Owl was a fine and honest owl. He hated being devious with such a fellow.
    “Well,” Brother Berwyck said, “maybe someday you will visit us at our retreat at the other end